Sorry I took so long to update! Enjoy!
Tony wanted to move, or at least wiggle a little to be able to breath, but he did not want to give up the crushing hug his super powered teenage son had him locked in mg, . He's been standing at this awkward angle, trying to return the embrace, for at least five minutes. "Er- Pete?" He ventured finally, and Peter loosened up and stepped back.
"Sorry." Peter said sheepishly, embarrassed. Tony laughed.
"Don't be sorry, son. Just started to crack a couple ribs is all." He said, rubbing his sore sides.
"Sometimes I forget I'm this much stronger." the younger boy laughed quietly. He, however couldn't help but feel bad for hurting his father, who had a busted lip and bruising on his cheek. He had, after all, be on a mission that involved combat. There was no telling what other injuries he had under his clothes that were bothering him.
"I missed you, too, buddy." Tony said, getting a grin from his son. He leaned on his arm slightly heavily on Peter as they walked out of the jet hanger and back down into the compound. "Do anything fun while we were gone?"
"Vision taught me how to always win at chess, which is kinda fun." Peter said, "And Nat took me to the shooting range a few times. I have decent aim, turns out."
Tony paused for a moment. "I'm sorry- She took you where?" He questioned.
"She asked Pepper! And Happy came with us!" Peter reported. "It wasn't the range here. Like a public one." He added. Tony seemed to look relieved.
"Sounds like you kept busy. That's good." Tony said, sighing as he flopped gracelessly onto the large, plushy couch in the Avenger common area, swinging his feet up off the floor and stretching out. He took a long, over-exaggerated breath and blew it out his nose. He waved his arm at the floor next to the couch and tossed one of the throw pillows onto the spot he'd indicated, so Peter sat down.
Tony laid in silence for a while, hand over his face, deep in thought. He stayed this way for so long, Peter actually wondered if he'd fallen asleep. Finally, he took another over dramatic breath, and rolled over on the couch, propping up slightly. "Uh, you good, dad?" Peter ask, an eyebrow raised in concern. Tony shook his head and look Peter over.
"Your grandfather was a bastard." Tony started. Peter blinked back at him, confused. Tony looked sad, but smiled. "I just mean, I am trying but this isn't something I know how to do because I don't have anyone's example to follow..." He paused and shook his head. "Kid, I swear I'm trying, here..." He said.
"It's okay..." Peter offered his comfort.
"It isn't though." Tony snapped, not at Peter, who seemed to know this. He sat still, waiting. "I owe you so much that I can't make up. I should know how you looked when you were born. Or where your first steps took you. Or what your first words where. But I don't." Tony covered his face again, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes. Peter knew he was trying his hardest not to let tears fall. He, however, simply sat in silence, listening to him speak, tears drifting slowly down his own cheeks.
"I can't make these things up to you, Peter. I would if it were possible. I'd been in every moment." He said.
"I know." Peter said quietly. He did not speak up for fear of his voice shaking.
"And then, because doesn't it always... Duty calls. So I go, off on this assignment, not even talking to you before I do. Because I am a damned coward." Tony shook his head at his own confession. He sat up and swung his legs around to be sitting up properly on the couch. He looked at Peter, who he imagined was very much mirroring himself at the moment, and swallowed thickly.
"You aren't a coward. You're the bravest man I know." Peter told him, staying motionless on his pillow perch.
"Peter." He seemed unable to speak. So Peter waited again. His guts in knots. "I left, and I remembered how that felt. Every single time I would watch Howard Stark board a plane, or get into his car, and he didn't say a word. And I did the same thing. I can't continue that particular Stark tradition, however." Peter looked confused, and Tony sat forward, bringing himself near eye-level with the young boy in the floor. "I love you, son. I didn't know how to say that, or even if you really- I just know you need to know that. I have been a shit father, absentee, but- Given this chance I hope to never let you down. Because, kid, I do. I look at you and my chest physically hurts I love you so much. I'd lay down my life for you in the blink of an eye. I want you to know that your father loves you. I don't want to be another Howard Stark."
After his confession, he no longer tried to hold anything back, and he allowed his tears to slide down his jaw, shrugging a shoulder to wipe them off. Peter sat frozen on his pillow his own emotions flowing in the same manor. He recognized the feeling on the boy's face. He'd seen the same face on himself in the mirror over and over. The inner turmoil and confusion. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then clinched his jaw shut several times. Tony gave him a watery smile. "I just word vomited all over you. I apologize."
For a second, Peter looked at his father as if he'd grown two heads. Then he started to laugh. A hard, genuine, laugh. Watching him, Tony cracked up too. They laughed so hard that Tony had to gasp a bit and Peter fell backward off his pillow, holding his sides. After a few moments, they both started to settle, and Peter picked himself up off the ground and moved over to the couch, sitting down beside Tony. He leaned his shoulder slightly into Tony's. "I'll save you the favor of a returned vomit. But- I love you, too, dad. And I don't want you to make those things up to me. They were stolen from both of us. We will have to make new memories. Because you're doing a great job, and we have each other, now."
"You're really damn smart for a fifteen year old." Tony said.
"You know my dad started MIT at fifteen? I get it from him." Peter replied proudly.
"So- What exactly is your deal, then, man?" Sam Wilson ask his friend before taking a pull from his beer. He leaned back against the booth and let his eyes wander around the mostly empty restaurant, then back to Steve Rogers, his friend. Steve shook his head.
"I don't know." Steve confessed, pushing what was left of his fries around with a fork. "It doesn't strike you as odd that Tony suddenly has a kid, who has super powers?"
Sam shrugged, eyes flickering to the door as it opened and someone walked in. "Kid looks just freaking like him, man. DNA says Stark's a match. So he had himself an accident, he's a little different. But hey! It's a small world. Stark's dad helped make you into Captain America. You ended up on a team with his son decades later. Natasha is a Russian ex-spy who joined a team who was attacked by one of her trainers from the KGB and its your best friend from childhood in the nineteen freaking thirtie's. Tony's kid was kept a secret from him for years. He got super powers, and that's how Tony found him. World is a weird freaking place."
"Yeah, I guess you have some points. But he also built the kid a suit. He's let him go out to a couple domestic call-ins. That riot, and the bank hostage situation. The bank literally only sent in the kid and Nat." He reminded him.
"They're stealthy. Spider team." Sam said, finishing off his own fries, a bit of ketchup catching on his chin. He grabbed a napkin to dab it off before throwing the used cloth over his plate. "I think your problem is father-centric."
"Oh, don't go all psychologist on me." Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"I'm always a psychologist, man. But I'm your friend, too, and I know you. You were orphaned, but in the time you had your father he had his issues with you. It's why you joined the army. You wanted to prove him wrong... That, along with being frozen and brought into this new world with all the changes, and you've taken in so much. You have never taken time to sort yourself out. Its why you'd pick the fights, by the way, as a kid. That's a dad-thing, too." He watched Steve as he furrowed his brow and thought.
"I guess you're right." Steve sighed.
"He's a good kid. I like him." Sam said. "Bit of a dork, but that's okay."
"Thank you, Sam. I'm sorry your victory lunch turned into therapy." He laughed. "It's still on me."
"Good!" Sam laughed. "Because I didn't bring my wallet."
So, this is a touch shorter than I would have liked, but it is setting something up, and of course, the build up to my version of Civil War is coming as well. I hope you're all enjoying this still! Be sure to review so I know :)
Thank you all for reading and following and fav-ing. You're all amazing!