Once again, I can't thank you guys enough for all of your kind reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. :)
As promised, this chapter is a bit fluffier. I hope you enjoy!
As his body and mind slowly drifted back towards consciousness, Tony breathed in, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the strong scent of the scratchy hospital linens and sharp disinfectant that flooded his senses. Tightening his fingers in Peter's hair, Tony shifted slightly, trying to keep most of the boy's weight off his sore abdomen and rib cage while still keeping Peter's ear resting over his chest piece. Even with the sedatives flowing into his little body along with the warming IV fluids, Peter's hands were fisted tightly into Tony's shirt, and his expression was still one of anguished fear, with his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. His was not a peaceful sleep.
After a thorough examination, or at least as thorough it could be while he was practically glued to Tony's chest, the doctors were able to determine that Peter had no broken bones or other serious injuries. Peter's wrists were rubbed raw from the ropes Killian had used to tie his hands, and his bottom lip was bruised and nearly bitten through in a couple of places, but besides that and his dehydration and lingering lung issues, he was going to be fine. Eventually.
At least physically. Mentally was a whole other question. And one that Tony knew he was going to have to deal with, his personal distrust of shrinks notwithstanding. Peter had been through more trauma than any one person should ever have to deal with in his only nine years of life, and Tony finally had to admit that he was not equipped to help Peter the way he needed. Tony's method of dealing with trauma in the past had always been to bury himself in work, women, and alcohol, which, if he was completely honest with himself, he hadn't really improved on all that much. While he no longer considered himself a womanizer, he'd still chosen to bury himself in work following the Battle of New York, ignoring both his own need for rest and recuperation and Peter's need for stability.
Stability. Something a nine-year old kid should be able to take for granted.
Shifting slightly on the narrow hospital bed, Tony buried his nose into Peter's hair, searching for the familiar green apple scent of his shampoo but instead only finding the smells of the surrounding hospital room combined with stale sweat. The nurses had cleaned Peter up as best as they could the previous night after he'd been stabilized, but since Tony had refused to let go of him, he supposed the boy could do with a bath once he was able to stay awake longer than a few minutes.
As the light shifted along the pale beige wall of the hospital room, Tony looked out towards the window, where he could see the beginnings of what appeared to be a brilliant, almost tropical-looking sunrise. Fitting, he supposed, for a Christmas morning in Miami.
Christmas. Yet another occasion that Tony had conveniently ignored for years before Peter came into his life. This was supposed to have been a happy time for them, celebrating the one-year anniversary of Peter's adoption. Not recuperating in some faraway hospital after a madman tried to turn Pepper and Peter into his own version of fire monsters.
"Daddy?" Peter's small, still-raspy voice suddenly said, breaking the silence. The sedatives must have worn off a little, and Tony knew that meant it was nearly time for another breathing treatment, which Peter hated with a passion. Poor kid.
"Yeah, bud, I'm here."
Peter tightened his arms around Tony's chest. "Do you remember the first time you called me 'buddy'?"
"Um…" Tony said, wracking his exhausted brain. "At the hotel in New York? When I was trying to get you dressed so we could leave?"
"No," mumbled Peter, rubbing his nose on Tony's shirt. Hopefully he'd be able to get rid of the oxygen tubes today too. "It was before then."
"Really? When was it?"
"Opening night of the Expo. After you left the stage."
Tony's eyebrows knitted together. "Are you sure?"
"Uh huh," Peter said. "You signed a picture for me, an Iron Man picture, and you patted my head. I was wearing my Iron Man helmet. You said, 'here you go, buddy'. Do you remember?"
"Yeah," Tony said a second later, a soft smile gracing his lips as he kissed the top of Peter's head. "Yeah, I do remember. I also remember being pretty impressed by your helmet, it was a damn good replica."
"I made it myself," Peter whispered. "But now it's too small. I need to make a new one."
"Well, that's what happens when you insist on growing up," Tony said, ruffling Peter's hair. "But when we get home I'll help you make a new one, if you want."
"Yeah, that sounds good. And I'll need some new boots too, since mine got blown up."
Tony stiffened at Peter's words. Oh, God, I didn't even think… "Pete," he said in a low voice. "Did you see—?"
"I saw all of it!" Peter spat out. He lifted his head, tears spilling down his pale cheeks as he glared at Tony. "Steve had the news on the television, and I saw the whole thing! Bruce tried to pull me away, but I wouldn't let him. I had to make sure that you made it out of there. I had to, Daddy!"
"And I did, Peter," Tony said firmly. He cupped Peter's face, brushing the boy's tears away with his thumbs. "I did. See? I'm right here."
But Peter only shook his head, his little chest heaving as he tried to suppress his sobs. "But… are you gonna stay here? Or are you gonna leave me again? Because… I can't—, I can't—, you see, it was my fault that they died, and I can't—, I can't, Daddy. I can't let that happen again, and—"
"Peter!" Tony said loudly, wincing when the boy jumped. "What are you saying? None of this was your fault." Tony wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back down against his chest. Crying was not going to help Peter's lungs heal at all. "Buddy, how can you possibly think that any of this was your fault?"
"But it was!" Peter cried, fresh tears spilling from his eyes, wetting through Tony's shirt. "We weren't supposed to be at the Expo again, the night of the drone attack. But I had so much fun on the opening night that I begged Uncle Ben and Auntie May to take me again. They didn't want to. Uncle Ben got home late, and Auntie May was tired, she'd had a rough day at work. But I begged and begged them to take me, and they finally gave in… and now—"
"Shh, Peter," Tony murmured, his throat tight as he tried to hold back his own tears. All this time, and he'd never even thought to ask about the circumstances surrounding Ben and May Parker's deaths. If Peter had been with them and had just gotten lucky, or if he'd managed to sneak away for a closer look at something, like he'd been known to do. He'd been alone when that drone targeted him, but Tony had no way of knowing if Ben and May were already dead by that point, or if they had simply been separated from him.
"It wasn't your fault, Pete," said Tony, stroking Peter's hair. "If anything, it was mine." Vanko and Hammer were both just more demons that I created.
"No, it wasn't," Peter argued. "You tried to stop the drones from killing people. You tried to stop that dumb guy, Justin Hammer. And you saved me!"
"Yeah, I did," Tony said. "But you were so brave, buddy. So, so brave that night. And it wasn't your fault. None of it, okay? It was tragic, yes. But none of if was your fault. Do you understand?"
"Uh huh," Peter replied, unconvincingly. He closed his eyes, tucking his head down under Tony's chin as he let out a loud, shaky exhale. "I'm tired again, Daddy."
"Then go back to sleep, bud," whispered Tony, patting his back. "It's okay. You're safe."
"You'll be here?"
"I'm not leaving you, Pete," Tony said firmly. "I promise."
They were discharged two days later, once Peter was weaned off of his breathing treatments and sufficiently rehydrated. As they made their way to the chopper waiting on the hospital roof, Steve carried Peter while Pepper supported Tony, still too sore to carry Peter and walk at the same time. Pepper had suggested perhaps staying in Miami for a few more days and trying to relax a bit before returning to New York, but Tony had vetoed the idea. While Tony had to admit the weather in Miami was decent enough, he had a feeling that Peter really wanted to get home. Away from this place where he'd been taken to be used as a human lab rat by a deranged man.
Plus, Tony still needed to get Pepper sorted out. And work on upgrading the security systems at the Tower. And repair his damaged suits, and oversee the cleanup at the Malibu house, and so on and so on.
As soon as they were seated on the plush leather seats in the Stark Industries chopper, Tony reached for Peter, grimacing in discomfort as he positioned the boy on his lap. Steve nodded in Tony's direction, his blue eyes still full of guilt and shame and repeated, unspoken apologies. Tony gave him a brief nod in reply but then shifted his gaze away, concentrating on studying the healing rope burns circling Peter's wrists. Deep down Tony knew that he shouldn't blame Steve for what happened. After all, he'd seen what those Extremis soldiers could do up close and personal, and he knew without a doubt that Steve cared for Peter a great deal and had to have given his attackers absolute hell before they were able to overpower him.
But even so, it was still too soon for Tony to want to talk about it. Maybe in a few more days, after he was able to get Peter settled back into the apartment and figure out what went wrong.
Besides. Bruce had mentioned in one of his phone calls that there was something he'd discovered during his research into Aldrich Killian that he needed to talk about with Tony. Something that he hadn't wanted Tony to allow Peter to overhear.
Not surprisingly, Peter slept for almost the entire flight, only waking as the chopper started its descent onto the landing platform at the Tower. As soon as they landed Steve held his arms out for Peter, and Tony released him reluctantly, envious of both the older man's strength and his ability to heal so quickly.
"Thanks, Cap," Tony said softly, leaning on Pepper for support as he got to his feet. Why did broken ribs have to hurt so damn much?
"It's no problem, Tony," Steve replied, a little too quickly. "I'm happy to help."
Bruce was waiting for them as they entered the apartment, embracing Tony in a careful hug as he rattled off apologies left and right for not joining Steve for the fight down at the platform.
"Fury was insistent that it would be a PR nightmare if the Hulk suddenly showed up in the middle of a fight that we'd been forbidden to get involved in," Bruce said, barely pausing for breath. "He said he could justify Steve going because of Peter, but—"
"And I suppose the fact that it was Rhodey who saved Ellis's ass instead of Captain America only proved Ellis's point," Tony grumbled. Goddamn politicians.
"Yeah, well… President Ellis did tell Fury he'd be sure to acknowledge both yours and Steve's involvement in rooting out the political traitor in the White House," said Bruce with a shrug. "I mean, that was a pretty big red flag that he totally missed."
"Somehow I don't think that'll make one bit of difference in the long run," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Politicians are only interested in their own agendas. They don't give a damn about anyone else."
"Well, yeah," Bruce said. "But still—"
"It's okay, Bruce," Pepper said, squeezing her hands around Tony's arm. "We appreciate you holding down the fort here."
"And I've already started on those upgrades we discussed, Tony," Bruce continued. "The residential floors are already done, and I should have the rest of the Tower finished by New Year's."
"I appreciate it, big guy," Tony said, groaning as he sank down onto the squashy couch in the living room next to Peter. "I'll take a look at everything tomorrow, yeah?"
"Oh, of course!" Bruce said, looking chagrined. "I'm so sorry, you guys probably need to rest. I'll… just, um, head back down to my lab and keep working."
"I should go too, Tony, let you guys settle back in," Steve said quietly. He leaned down, handing Peter his beloved stuffed polar bear. "I'll see you soon, Peter. Okay? I'd love it if we could play another chess game when you're feeling up to it."
"Uh huh," Peter said, his face partially buried in Tony's side. Pepper offered to walk Steve out, telling Tony she would get them something to eat when she returned. As soon as he heard the elevator doors slide closed, Tony turned slightly so he could wrap his arms around his son and Peter scooted closer, leaning his head against Tony's chest piece.
"Daddy," Peter whispered a few minutes later. "You're gonna stay with me?"
"Yeah, buddy," Tony whispered back, burying his nose in Peter's hair. It still didn't smell like green apples, but at least it didn't smell like a hospital anymore. "I'm gonna stay right here."
"Don't leave," mumbled Peter as his eyelids fluttered closed. "Please?"
"I won't, Peter. Go ahead and sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"I promise, bud."
"'Kay."
Peter was out cold three seconds later.
The next couple of days were spent doing a whole lot of nothing. Pepper insisted on waiting on them, saying it had been her plan to do so during the Christmas break anyway, before all hell had broken loose. They watched a ton of movies, ate all sorts of junk food, drank eggnog and hot chocolate, and in general spent most of their time lounging around in the living room. Pepper even forbade Tony to work on neutralizing the Extremis in her system, saying she could wait until he was fully healed and Peter was sleeping through the night again before Tony tackled that particular problem.
Two days before New Year's they got even more good news. Happy had regained consciousness back in California, and barring any possible neurological complications, was going to be released from the hospital on New Year's Eve. Tony immediately got on the phone to Rhodey, asking him to pick Happy up from the hospital and escort him out to New York. Stark Industries was closed until the second week of January, and Pepper was planning a small belated Christmas party for New Year's Day. They were inviting Bruce and Steve of course, and Tony wanted Rhodey and Happy there as well.
And so, on the evening of New Year's Day, the seven of them gathered around the Christmas tree in the living room of the Tower penthouse apartment and celebrated together. They opened gifts, ate way too many Christmas cookies, drank champagne and bubbly grape juice, and just enjoyed each other's company. Tony was even able to give Steve a genuine smile after Peter fell asleep on his lap, wearing the brand-new nerdy t-shirt Bruce had given him that read QTPi. Peter was even able to sleep in his own bed that night for a stretch, giving Tony some much-needed relief from having to sleep on the couch.
"So," Tony said to Bruce the next morning, pacing slowly back and forth in his lab while Steve shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Pepper had volunteered to take Peter out shopping for some new clothes after breakfast, and Tony had agreed as long as Happy accompanied them, so for the time being they had the apartment to themselves. "What's this news you're so eager to share with me?"
Bruce shot Steve an anxious look, fiddling with his glasses. "Well… you see, we were researching, trying to find out more about Aldrich Killian and Extremis, and I sorta stumbled upon this old database from SHIELD, buried under about three tons of other crap—"
"Peter doesn't know about this, Tony," Steve interrupted. "Bruce and I weren't sure about what you'd told him about his birth father, so we didn't feel it was our place to say anything. I hope that's okay."
Tony felt his blood run cold and he swallowed hard, sitting heavily down onto one of the tall chairs in the lab. Damn slow-healing ribs! "Um, I haven't told Peter anything about his birth father," he said. "Kid told me he didn't hardly remember him, only that scary people used to come and yell at him during the night. I mean, I did some digging on my own when Pete first came to live with me, but I wasn't able to find all that much. And what little I did find wasn't good at all."
"What is it you were able to find?" asked Bruce, his eyes wide behind his glasses.
"Some old, mostly redacted SHIELD file," answered Tony. "I mean, I'd read in my dad's stuff that Parker was a geneticist and a part-time consultant for SHIELD. The stuff that Fury gave me stated it. But the file I found said he'd been caught trying to sell a weaponised… something-or-other to a foreign government and had been labeled a traitor."
"And that's all the file said?" asked Bruce.
"Most of it was gibberish, Bruce. Nearly ninety percent of it was redacted," Tony said impatiently. "But what was readable said 'traitor' at least three times." He shrugged, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just assumed someone went after him, resulting in his so-called accidental plane crash. Or at least, I did until Killian brought him up."
"Killian?" said Steve, looking alarmed. "What did Killian say about it? And why would he know about Richard Parker?"
"I have no fucking idea, Rogers!" Tony said sharply, squeezing his eyes closed as he pressed his fist to his chest, trying to keep his breathing steady. I am so goddamn sick of dealing with this! "JARVIS, where is Peter right now?"
"Master Peter is currently trying on jeans in the Broadway Old Navy location," JARVIS replied. "Miss Potts is planning to take him for a haircut once they have completed their shopping, and then out for ice cream. Specifically, peppermint ice cream, per Master Peter's request."
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll love that," Tony muttered, relieved when his heart rate started to even out. "Okay, good. Thanks, J."
"It is my pleasure, sir."
"Are you all right, Tony?" Steve asked, concern clouding his blue eyes. "What was that?"
"Just like to know what's going on," Tony answered, trying and failing to sound casual about the fact that he was able to track his son's every movement. He leaned back in his chair, trying to avoid Steve's piercing stare. "You know, it's the first time he's been away from me since… since Cap got him back for me, and I just wanna know what he's up to."
Steve's head snapped up at Tony's words, and Tony watched from the corner of his eye as the old man's shoulders visibly relaxed and a relieved smile spread across his face. It was a start, at least. Tony knew they would still need to talk at some point, but at least now they could hopefully stop tiptoeing around each other.
"So Tony, can you tell us what Killian said to you?" Bruce asked, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened. "I don't mean to sound cryptic, that's not at all my intention. But I am starting to get suspicious about something, and I'd rather keep those suspicions to myself until I know if they're valid or not."
Tony huffed out a sharp breath, wishing for the conversation to be over already. "Killian's exact words were 'Richard Parker wasn't a traitor, he was a visionary, like me. His only mistake was failing to acquire the appropriate political support that would have ensured his protection if things went badly'."
"Appropriate political support," Bruce muttered, crossing his arms. "I wonder who—"
"Well, we know Killian had political support," Steve interrupted. "Don't we? He had the Vice-President."
"Yeah, and maybe some others that we just haven't found yet," Bruce said with a grimace. "But that still doesn't explain… never mind. Here's—"
"Will you just fucking tell me what you found?" demanded Tony. "Before I kick both your asses out of my lab and find it myself?"
"I was getting to it!" Bruce retorted. "Now, from what we discovered, Parker's research—which appears to have been funded by some obscure branch of some government think tank that's never officially named in the file—initially involved developing ways to make human DNA impervious to certain forms of chemical warfare."
"Which means that they were trying to make soldiers immune to things like mustard gas?" asked Steve. "I can understand why that would be helpful."
"Which also sounds a lot like what you used to do, big guy," Tony pointed out. "And, it's also supposed to be what Extremis does. Or at least when it's not causing people to spontaneously explode."
"Yes, and that's exactly what I thought too," Bruce said. "But then I dug a little deeper, and I found another file which stated that when his initial experiments failed to show the desired results, Parker began working on some new experiments that involved combining human DNA with that of certain animals."
Tony's eyebrows knitted together. "Animals? Which ones?"
"The file doesn't say," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Or if it does, it's probably buried a hundred layers deep in the redacted text. But what the file does say, is that after years of failure, some of which was quite gruesome and catastrophic, I might add, Parker was eventually successful. And that success seems to exactly coincide with the time that he was labeled as a traitor."
"So…" Tony muttered, tapping his chin. "SHIELD got wind of the threat against him and was trying to get him out of the country, but someone got to him first?"
"Maybe," said Bruce, unconvincingly. "Or… "
"Or what?" piped up Steve. "You don't think SHIELD had anything to do with Parker's death. Do you?"
"Nah," Bruce said, but Tony didn't miss the doubt that flitted across Bruce's face. "I mean, that wouldn't make any sense, would it?"
"No, it wouldn't," Steve said. "I can't imagine Nick Fury condoning anything that would involve threatening a scientist who was working for him."
But Tony barely heard him, his mind spinning with what Bruce just said. It was almost easier when he had accepted that Richard Parker had been a traitor, and decided he would leave the few memories that Peter had of his birth father untarnished. But now… even if he hadn't in fact been a traitor and instead was hunted down and murdered for what he'd managed to accomplish, what really did it all mean? Was his research still out there somewhere, in the hands of some less-than-scrupulous people? Were his experiments still being run? And if so, by whom?
And what did Killian's jab about Peter having a certain component to his DNA that would've made him a good candidate for Extremis refer to, exactly? Tony's jaw clenched and his hands curled into tight fists. Was Richard Parker actually experimenting on his own son?
If so, that alone would've been enough justification in Tony's mind to wish the man dead.
"I think," Tony said, clearing his throat. "I think I should talk to Fury. Since Parker's name was in the stuff that he gave me, he probably knows something about him."
"And you think that Fury will just… tell you?" Bruce asked, incredulous. "Why?"
Tony shrugged. "Can't hurt to ask. I won't tell him you were poking around, if you're worried that he'll yank your privileges away or something—"
"Good God, Tony," Bruce exclaimed. "I'm not worried about me! I'm concerned for Peter! And for you! If his father was—"
"We don't know that," Steve said firmly. "I don't think we should jump to any conclusions here, based on only one file—"
"Which is all the more reason for me to talk to Fury," Tony interrupted. "I'll get in touch with him tomorrow and ask. Worst he can do is tell me to leave it alone, and then nothing changes." He looked pointedly at the two men standing near him. "And I mean, nothing. Not a word about this even gets breathed around Peter unless I do it myself. Is that understood?"
"Understood," Bruce and Steve said simultaneously.
Peter returned from his shopping trip with Pepper loaded down with shopping bags and high on ice cream, talking a mile a minute about how all of the streets were still littered with candy and streamers left over from New Year's Day.
"And I wanted to pick some of it up, 'cause I saw a lot of the things that I like," Peter said excitedly. "But Pepper said it was dirty and probably wouldn't taste very good, so we didn't."
"Well," Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peter's shorter hair. "Pepper is a smart lady, so you should listen to her."
"Dad, I did!" Peter said, plopping down onto the couch so hard that Tony bounced. "That's what I was telling you! Now, what're we gonna watch?"
Tony had lost count of how many movies they'd watched since they'd been home. Peter enjoyed all sorts of movies, as long as they were science-fiction, time-travel, alien invasion, or something similar. The one time they'd tried to watch a romantic comedy—at Pepper's request—Peter had fallen asleep about twenty minutes in. And to be honest, Tony hadn't lasted much longer.
"Um… how about one of the Trek ones? Star Trek?" Tony asked. "Didn't you say you liked those movies too?"
"Only the newer ones," Peter said. He scooted closer, cuddling up on Tony's non-sore side. "But yeah, okay. That sounds good. Let's watch the first one."
Queuing up the movie, Tony buried his nose in Peter's hair and let out a contented sigh, sending a silent thanks to Pepper for remembering to restock the boy's shampoo. The soft green apple scent was always going to be something he'd associate with Peter, and with family and home and safety, and it was finally back.
They had barely gotten halfway through the opening sequence of the movie when Peter leaned up, whispering in Tony's ear. "Hey, Daddy, don't you think Captain Kirk's dad looks a lot like Thor? I mean, if Thor had short hair and talked like a guy from Earth instead of that Hamlet dude?"
Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I guess he kinda does," he said, squinting at the television.
"Did you know that Ned asked Thor for his autograph when he was here?" Peter asked with a chuckle. "Ned even got it framed. He carries it around with him at school."
"No, I didn't," said Tony. "But listen, bud, speaking of… that. There's something I gotta talk to you about." Pausing the movie, Tony pushed himself up to a sitting position, facing Peter on the couch.
"What is it?" asked Peter in a shaky voice. "Am I in trouble?"
"Absolutely not, Peter," Tony said firmly. "You are in no way in trouble. It's just, Pepper and I have been talking, and we've decided that we're gonna get you some help."
"What kind of help?"
"Well… " stammered Tony. He took both of Peter's hands in his, wincing as he glanced down at the still-healing rope marks on Peter's wrists. "Pepper's done some research. Actually, she's done some exhaustive research, and she's found a nice, well-qualified lady who's gonna come here to the Tower starting tomorrow and spend some time talking with you. She's gonna come three times a week for the first couple of weeks, for a couple hours at a time. After that, well, we'll just see how it goes."
Peter's lower lip started to tremble. "Why?"
"Because," Tony said, pulling him into a hug. "Because, as much as I'd like to be able to help you the way you need, buddy, I just can't. And you're too young, and have been through way too much for me to expect you to just get over it. It's unbelievable that you're as normal as you are after everything that's happened."
"But… are you gonna be there with me?" Peter asked, sniffing against Tony's chest. "I don't wanna be alone, Daddy."
"Not right away, buddy," Tony admitted. "Maybe after a while, but not right away. But if you want, I can ask Pepper to sit in with you at first, to help you get comfortable with the doctor. Pepper's a lot more… objective than I am." And a hell of a lot less likely than I would be to object to some of the questions this lady is surely going to have for him.
"Uh huh," Peter mumbled. "If you say it's a good idea, then I guess it is. But what about school?"
"I've arranged with Principal Morita for you to start school back up in February," Tony said. "He agreed that you could use a bit of a break. We'll get your assignments sent over everyday, so you won't be getting out of doing your work, but this way you can concentrate on getting better first before we put you back in school. All right?"
"B—, but, can I still see Ned?" Peter asked, his huge brown eyes shimmering with tears behind his glasses. "He told me he got a bunch of new Lego sets for Christmas, and I wanted to help him build them, but—"
"You can see Ned whenever his mom says it's okay," Tony assured him. "And you can even have a sleepover if you want, as long as it's here at the Tower. Okay? I'm… not ready to have you away from me at night quite yet."
"Oh! We've never had a sleepover here before," Peter said, swiping at his eyes as he cuddled back into Tony's side. "I bet he'd like it. Okay, Daddy. Can we watch the movie now?"
Tony smiled as he planted a kiss on the top of Peter's head. "Absolutely."
"What's going on, Stark?" asked Nick Fury, his bald, pirate-like face filling the entirety of the large viewscreen in Tony's lab. Tony had sent Fury a message over a week ago asking to speak privately with him, but was told that he was out of the country and would respond after his return. It was a testament to how much Tony's patience level had improved that he didn't offer to go out searching for the man himself.
"I have some important questions I need to ask you," said Tony, quickly glancing at the clock. He had exactly one hour before Peter was done with his therapy session for the day. "Are you on a secure line?"
Fury raised an eyebrow. "Please tell me you don't actually think that's a necessary question."
"Yeah, well, you never know," Tony muttered. "Look, I'll cut right to the chase. That box of stuff you gave me that belonged to my father—"
"That ended up saving your life," Fury interrupted. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Yeah, yeah," Tony said impatiently. "Look. One of my dad's journals mentioned the name Richard Parker. He was—"
"Your kid's birth father," said Fury. "Yeah, I'm familiar with Richard Parker. What about him?"
Tony pursed his lips. "Well, I did a little digging, and what I've been able to find hasn't been very… favorable. I just wanted to get your take on things."
Fury shrugged. "Parker was a scientist, a genetics expert. One of many we had listed as official SHIELD consultants—"
"Quit with the bullshit, Fury!" Tony snapped, clenching his fists. "You know damn well I'm a lot smarter than that! That Killian fucker knew things about Parker and about my own kid that I didn't know, and that is completely unacceptable to me! So if you know something about it, I think I've earned the right to know whatever that something is. If not for my own sake than for Peter's! Kid's been through enough, don't you think?"
Sighing, Fury shook his head, his one good eye glancing fervently around the room. "Secure office," he said, and Tony watched with increasing frustration as Fury's office windows darkened.
"I thought you said this line was secure!"
"And now it's even more secure," barked Fury. "Look, I was planning on telling you this stuff eventually. Or, at least most of it. I just wanted to give you and the kid some time first."
"Time?" demanded Tony. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm the one who told that Queens DSS woman to contact you when the kid's aunt and uncle were killed, Tony," said Fury. "We had to work quickly, because we didn't know who else would try and claim the boy if word got out. And you weren't our first choice either, by the way. Not by a long shot. But we took a chance. I took a chance. And, turns out I was right."
Tony inhaled a shaky breath, willing himself to try and stay calm. He hated when the old man talked in riddles, which seemed to be Nick Fury's main manner of speaking. "Nick, I swear. If you don't fucking start explaining yourself right now, I'm gonna—"
"Richard Parker was killed by a renegade group of people," Nick stated. "A group of people who are still in operation today, under absolute secrecy and anonymity. And I've been trying for years to root them out, but every time I seem to get close, they up and disappear. They're like ghosts. They flit in, stir up some trouble. A rebellion here, a big internet hack there, stuff like that. And then as soon as we're able to close in, as soon as we so much as get a whiff of their scent, they flit away again, leaving behind no traces of any kind. Richard Parker was one such casualty, but he wasn't the first. And I highly doubt that he'll be the last."
"And you didn't feel it necessary to pass this information on to me?" Tony asked evenly, his jaw clenched in anger.
"No, I didn't," Nick said. "You were on a need-to-know basis, Tony. At that point, I didn't yet know if I could even trust you."
"You still should've told me! If not back then, then at least when I adopted him! Goddamnit, Nick, this is my son we're talking about! And there is no reasonable explanation that you can give me for some lunatic to know more about my own kid than I do!"
"A shadow organization bent on creating chaos is a very reasonable explanation, Stark!" barked Nick. "And it seems as though that included this Killian fellow."
"Killian said Peter's DNA was… different in some way!" Tony cried. "He fucking taunted me with it, Nick! Why would he say such a thing? Was Parker experimenting on him? On his own son?"
"Not as far as I know, Tony," Nick said, far too calmly. "We have no evidence that Parker involved either his wife or his child in his research."
"But you also don't know that he wasn't! Am I correct?"
Nick dropped his gaze, shaking his bald head. "Look, Tony. Richard Parker was targeted and eliminated by someone whom we have yet to catch. And since Peter was his son, I had every reason to suspect that whoever killed Richard Parker would try and go after Peter as well. That is why I had him placed in your care after the Expo tragedy. The fact that you then chose to adopt the boy was an unexpected but not unwelcome surprise."
"Kid has a tendency to grow on you," Tony mumbled. "I'd bet he could charm even you, Fury. But that still doesn't explain why you were so eager to protect a small kid. If you say his father wasn't experimenting on him, then why was he so worthy of your protection? And why would've Killian said what he said?"
"Tony, I honestly don't know," said Nick. "Some have suspected that yes, Parker was running unorthodox experiments that may have involved Peter. But like I said, if he was, we've found no evidence."
"But you were still suspicious enough to want to make sure that Peter survived," Tony snapped. "And survived for what, Nick? What if I hadn't adopted him, then what? We're you gonna take him from me when he turned eighteen and start experimenting on him yourself?"
"Absolutely not!" Nick roared. "And I resent your implications, Stark! I'm not one of the bad guys, dammit! I'm one of the good guys who're trying to find them!"
"Well pardon me if I don't completely buy your story!" Tony shot back. "You seem to have a history of only divulging what you think is necessary!"
"Did it ever occur to you that Killian may have just been playing with you, Tony?" asked Nick. "Bluffing?"
Tony took a step back, his chest heaving and his mind racing. To be honest, that thought hadn't occurred to him. Killian's threat had seemed so oddly specific that Tony had just accepted it at face value.
"No. It seemed too damned specific for someone who'd supposedly never set eyes on Peter before then."
"If Killian had as good of contacts as we think he had, it's not surprising that he would've been aware of both Richard Parker and Peter," Nick said. "And since part of his bargain with the VP was to cure the man's daughter, it's also not surprising that he'd want to have a test subject first."
"That 'test subject' you're referring to is my son, Fury," Tony said through clenched teeth. "Do not speak of him in such a callous way again, or I'll kick your one-eyed ass. Understood?"
Nick raised his hands, and Tony could actually see a hint of an apology in the man's eye. "Look, Tony. I've told you all that I know."
"All right," Tony said a few seconds later. "Just tell me one more thing. Is Peter in danger?"
"Not as far as I can tell, Tony," Nick replied. "I will of course let you know if that changes for some reason."
"You damn well better," Tony muttered. "JARVIS, end call."
Tony let out a heavy sigh as the screen clicked off, leaning back against the counter. Peter was supposed to start school again in only two weeks. Tony knew he could delay Peter's return even further if he felt the need, but just yesterday Peter had mentioned to him that he was looking forward to going back. And Tony really couldn't blame him. As much fun as it might be hanging out with Bruce in his lab or helping Steve learn how to use the internet, Peter was still just a kid, and he missed being around other kids.
A knock on the doorway startled Tony from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Pepper, holding a large folder in her hand. "Got a minute? I'm between conference calls, so…"
"For you, always," Tony replied, holding open his arms. Pepper had been telecommuting for the past week, choosing to stay in New York until Peter went back to school rather than return to California. She and Tony had been discussing moving the main Stark Industries Headquarters out to New York permanently, but hadn't yet made a final decision. Nor had they made a decision on whether or not to rebuild the Malibu house.
"Peter seems to be doing well with his therapy," Pepper said once Tony released her. "I'm thinking we should continue it once he starts school."
"Yeah, maybe," Tony mumbled. He still wasn't quite convinced. Peter always seemed to be sad and exhausted at the end of his therapy sessions, and Tony had yet to see what he considered concrete proof that they were doing Peter any permanent good. "I suppose we can ask him."
"Yes, I am not opposed to asking him his opinion on the matter. But there are some things that you're gonna just need to decide for him, Tony," Pepper said. "You're the adult, and his dad, and that gives you veto power over his wishes if necessary."
"I am aware of that, thank you," Tony retorted. "Is that the only reason you came in here? To gloat?"
Pepper looked hurt. "No! I actually came in here to talk about you. But if you're gonna be a jerk about it, then I can come back later—"
"I'm sorry, Pep," Tony said. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her temple. "I just had an… unsettling conversation and I'm a bit—"
"Grumpy?"
"Yeah, I guess. What did you need to talk to me about?"
"Well," Pepper said slowly. "I've been doing some more research—"
"Pep, I'm not gonna have the kid try out another shrink. One is enough—"
"It's not for Peter, it's for you," Pepper interrupted. She pushed the folder into Tony's hand. "These are surgeons, Tony. Specifically, the credentials for the top three cardiothoracic surgeons in the world."
"Cardiothoracic?" Tony mumbled. His eyes widened as he realized what Pepper was insinuating, and his hand reflexively shot up to cover the arc reactor in his chest. "No! Absolutely not. You can't possibly—!"
"Yes, I can possibly," Pepper said firmly. "I have personally spoken with each one of these doctors, Tony, and they all feel that they could successfully remove—"
"They 'feel' like they can remove it?" Tony pressed his palm even harder against the reactor, feeling the low hum reverberate through his hand and up his arm. "No! No way, Pepper. I can't risk it!"
"Oh, but you can risk your life by flying up through a wormhole carrying a missile, or trying to take on a terrorist single-handedly?" Pepper cried. "C'mon, Tony! Do you even hear yourself?"
"That was different! I was trying—"
"You were trying to, what? Save the world? Save Peter? Save me?" Pepper asked.
"Well, yeah!" Tony exclaimed. "Why do you think—?"
"But Peter and I don't need this," Pepper said, her finger landing softly on the chest piece. "All we need is what's hiding behind it. Tony, I didn't fall in love with you because you're Iron Man, and Peter doesn't love you because you're Iron Man. You have to know that."
Tony's throat tightened and he turned away, focusing on the lab counter cluttered with several of Peter's school books. Hadn't someone else said something similar to him recently?
Maybe someone really was trying to tell him something.
"I don't know, Pep," he said softly. "The last time someone else went digging around in my chest, I felt nearly every damn bit of it." He squeezed his eyes closed at the horrible memories of nearly unimaginable pain and overwhelming fear that still haunted his dreams. "And I don't… I don't know if I'm strong enough—"
He was cut off by the appearance of Peter, standing in the doorway with tears streaming down his round cheeks. Tony was on his feet in an instant, the folder of surgeon credentials forgotten as he rushed towards him.
"Pete? What's wrong, buddy?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him against his chest. "Did Dr. Cyler say something to make you cry?" Because if she did, then—
"No. Well, not really," Peter sputtered. "It wasn't her fault, Daddy. I just… I need to ask you something."
"What is it?"
Peter lifted his head, sniffing as he swiped at his eyes. "Do you think w—, we could we v—, visit Uncle Ben and Auntie May's g—, graves sometime? I j—, just need to tell them s—, something, and I think it'd be easier if—"
"Good grief, Peter, don't scare me like that. Yeah, buddy, we can go tomorrow," Tony murmured as he kissed Peter's head. He looked over at Pepper, who nodded. "Pepper and I will both take you. Okay?"
"Y—, yeah, okay," Peter said, nodding as he took a deep breath. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me, Pete," Tony said, ruffling his hair. He felt a sharp twinge of guilt, thinking he should've offered to bring the boy there a long time ago. "We'll go after breakfast in the morning, yeah?"
"Uh huh," Peter sniffed again, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I should probably do my schoolwork now."
"Yeah, yeah, come on over," said Tony, jerking his head towards Peter's books littering the counter. Pepper pursed her lips as she checked her watch.
"We're not done talking about this, Tony," she whispered. Her eyes flicked towards the folder Tony had discarded onto the counter. "I meant what I said."
January in New York City was usually overcast and cold, and this day was no exception. A chilly breeze rustled through the branches of the tall trees surrounding the cemetery, combining eerily with the sound of dead leaves crunching beneath their footsteps as they walked from the car towards the stones marking the graves of Ben and May Parker. Peter, clinging tightly to Tony's arm with one hand, carried a large bouquet of orange and yellow tulips in his other hand, which he said were Aunt May's favorite flowers.
"It's okay, buddy," Tony whispered as Peter's steps noticeably slowed as they approached the large marble grave markers, shining brightly even in the spotty sunlight. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."
"No, it's okay," Peter replied in a shaky voice. "I just… I should've gotten something for Uncle Ben too."
"Well, we can come back again, Pete," Tony said quietly. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing."
Peter nodded, his lower lip quivering. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."
They stood quietly for a few moments until Peter stepped forward, gingerly placing the flowers down at the base of May's gravestone. Then he stepped back again, grabbing Tony's hand as he cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come and visit," Peter began, his voice so thick and self-deprecating that Tony winced. I should've asked him if he wanted to come here a long time ago.
"I don't know why it did," Peter continued. "I guess maybe I was afraid you guys would still be mad at me for sneaking away. But I should've known better, 'cause Auntie May always said you could never stay mad at me for very long."
Kid seems to have that effect on everyone, Tony thought. "It's okay, Pete," he said softly as Pepper wrapped her hands around Tony's arm. "You're doing just fine."
"I'm so sorry that I snuck away from you at the Expo. I just—, I just wanted to get a better look at everything, and then after the glass roof shattered and the guns started firing, I could hear Auntie May yelling for me but I couldn't find either of you, and I—, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Peter sniffed loudly, prompting Pepper to slip a tissue into his hand.
"But I also wanted to tell you that you don't have to be worried about me. You probably know all this already, but after all of it stopped and the police found me in my hiding place, Mr. Stark came in a big, fancy car to pick me up. He took me to his house, and my whole room was Star Wars! We even got to go to Disneyland! And then, after we came back here for school, he decided he wanted to be my new dad! And so… you don't have to worry about me anymore, Auntie May, because even though you always said that you didn't much like Tony Stark, he takes good care of me. He loves me, he even says so! So… I'm okay, and I'm happy. And I hope—, I hope you are too."
As soon as he finished speaking, Peter ducked under Tony's arm, burying his face into Tony's side. Tony hugged him close, patting his shoulder.
"I'm getting cold, Daddy," Peter said a moment later. "We can go now."
"Yeah, okay, buddy," Tony whispered. He kept a tight hold on Peter as they returned to the car, his head swirling with conflicting emotions. Of all the mad turn of events that had to occur for Peter to wind up in Tony's life, it still somehow felt wrong in that moment for Tony to be thankful that he had.
But what Peter had told his Aunt May about Tony was absolutely correct. Tony absolutely loved Peter, more than his own life. And for that, no matter what had happened or what could happen, he would never, ever be sorry.
Later that night, as Tony was cuddling Peter to sleep, he thought about what he and Pepper had been discussing the previous day. He knew the main reason why he hadn't pursed the idea of having the shrapnel removed from his heart was because he was afraid. Afraid of the loss of control of going under. Afraid the surgeons would screw up somehow and he'd just be back where he started. And also, afraid that he wouldn't wake up again.
"Hey, Pete?" Tony murmured. Peter was relaxed, but Tony could tell he hadn't fallen asleep quite yet.
"Hmm?"
"I got a question for you."
"Mmmhmm?"
Tony pursed his lips, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. "Um… how comfortable is it, lying over my chest piece like you are?"
Peter breathed in, tilting his head up. "It's not really all that comfy," he said. "But I like the sound that it makes. It means you're alive, and here with me."
"Okay," Tony said. He ran his fingers through Peter's hair, kissing the top of his head. "So… what would you think if I said I was considering having it taken out?"
The boy's curly head snapped up, his brown eyes wide in the dim light of his bedroom. "But won't you die if it's taken out?"
"Not if they take the shrapnel out at the same time," said Tony. "Pepper's found a surgeon who thinks he can get it out, so—"
"So, then you wouldn't need this anymore?" Peter asked, tapping the blue circle of light.
"Yeah. That's the theory."
Laying his head back down, Peter tightened his arms around Tony's chest. "I think it'd be okay," he said after a few moments of silence.
"You do?" Tony asked. "Even if it meant the hum would be gone?"
"Uh huh," murmured Peter. "'Cause then I'd be able to hear your real heartbeat. Right now, it's like it's hiding. The hum covers it up."
Peter's simple words hit Tony like a repulsor blast to the chest. He was absolutely right. Tony had been hiding behind his armor ever since he created the Mark I back in the Afghani cave. But, like he'd told the audience at that press conference all those months ago, and then repeated again to that kid down in Tennessee. The suits weren't Iron Man.
He was.
"So, you think I should do it then, bud?" he asked.
"If Pepper says it's okay, then it must be okay," Peter answered.
Well, he's not wrong.
Tony let out a sigh, squeezing Peter so hard that he grunted. "Will you be there with me, Pete? To help me to not be scared?"
"Of course, Daddy," Peter answered, like Tony had just asked the dumbest question he'd ever heard.
"Well, then, I think it's settled," Tony whispered. "Thanks, buddy,"
"You're welcome," Peter mumbled. "G'night, Daddy. I love you."
"I love you too, Peter. Goodnight."
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