Summary: Tony is no stranger to paternity claims from his female conquests, there's a system in place for them. But when one of the tests actually comes back positive, he makes a rash decision to not tell anyone about it, not even Pepper Potts. All Mary Parker wants is for Tony to spend a little time with their son, and she'll badger Tony Stark into showing up at least twice a month in any way that she can.
And then he goes missing for three months in Afghanistan. Tony has a lot to think about in his life now, how he wants to run his company, how his life is going to change with the arc reactor, and what he's going to do about his son, Peter. Then, the Avengers Initiative pops up, and in waltzes his childhood hero, and enemy, Captain America.
Follows IM1, IM2, Avengers, Cap2. Not canon-compliant, but follows the plots.
A/N: Iiiii may have been mistaken, I did not make it through the rest of Iron Man 1 in this chapter. Next chapter for sure, but Peter was demanding a lot of attention this chapter, and well, how can you say no to him? I'm having fun with this story, and apparently so is everyone else!
Also, if you go to my Tubmlr page (megaranoelle. tumblr. com) you can catch some behinds the scene stuff about the fic. No spoilers, promise. Maybe you can influence the story.
Anyway, enjoy more cuteness! Some of the lines were taken from the movie directly, (I'm watching it as I go), and that's all owned by Marvel, not by me.
None of the press that was camped outside of the mansion took two glances at Rhodey's pick-up when it left, and when it eventually came back. They knew Lt Col Rhodes, they knew that he wouldn't answer any questions that Tony Stark, or Obidiah Stane, hadn't already answered. No, they wanted to see the man himself.
But this worked to Tony's advantage when they went to go pick up Peter. That meant that as he sat it he backseat, the press wouldn't see him through the tinted windows, and they weren't followed. He of course had dark sunglasses, and a baseball hat, the most cliche of disguises, but it seemed to work.
Mary had said that she warned her parents that he would be stopping by, but she took no responsibility for how they looked at him. Yeah, parents didn't usually like Tony Stark, specially old Tony Stark, before the 'incident'. Tony didn't care about what Mary's parents thought though, not when the door opened and Peter went running for him.
"Daddy!" A little body launched itself at Tony, and he leaned down and caught him, hugging him to his chest. Rhodey stood behind Tony, little smile as he watched them, seeing his best friend in a way he never thought he'd see him.
He knew that Afghanistan changed Tony, not just physically, but mentally, too. But he could see bits of Tony still peeking out. Pepper had called him when Tony insisted on having a party at the Dubai house the other day. Rhodey would probably be more worried that maybe Tony had changed too much, but as he saw Peter hugging Tony, and Tony's truly genuine smile, he wasn't as worried. Maybe this kid would be good for Tony.
"Hey, Petey." Tony stood up, lifting Peter up in his arms with him. He suppressed a shiver when Peter's hands found his arc reactor.
"Is different now?" Peter asked, looking up into his face. "Feels different."
"Yeah, it's a different model, buddy," Tony nodded. From the corner of his eye he saw Peter's grandparents walk into the room with Peter's bag. They were eyeing him up, judging if he was good enough for their daughter, and their grandson. He shifted Peter to his hip and took a step forward, hat and sunglasses already off, and extended his hand to the two elderly people. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Tony St-"
"We know who you are," the woman spoke first. There was Mary's fiery spirit. "I think that everyone in the world knows who you are now."
"Ah yes, well, the cameras don't always get my good side," Tony pasted on his patented charming smile. "I keep telling them to get the left." He stopped when he felt Rhodey touch his back, reminding him that he wasn't dealing with the usual business sharks. These were Peter's grandparents. "This is my best friend, and general guardian for the moment, Lt Col James Rhodes, but I call him Rhodey."
"He's tall," Peter whispered to Tony, looking over at Rhodey, who gave him a kind smile.
"Taller than you, maybe," Tony said, tickling Peter's sides, making him squeal with laughter and wiggle in his arm. "Alright, Petey," he stopped and set Peter on his feet, "Tell Grandma and Grandpa bye." Peter nodded and ran over to his grandparents and Tony glanced back at Rhodey. "This is why I'm not married," Tony whispered to Rhodey, and the military man had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
Peter's grandfather had grabbed Peter's overnight bag, as his grandmother helped the little boy put his backpack on. He walked over to Tony and held out the bag, the genius taking it automatically. "I'm sure Mary already filled you in, but Peter takes a bath at 7, and he's usually in bed no later than 9," Mary's father told him. He seemed to be a little warmer towards him than Mary's mother was. "He usually likes a story before bedtime. He wasn't sleeping well while you were, gone," Tony tried not to wince and feel guilty about that, "but we're getting him back on a schedule. He may have a nightmare-"
"I know how to handle those," Tony said quietly. The man studied him, then nodded.
"I served in Desert Storm," the man said suddenly and Tony raised an eyebrow. "I recognize someone healing, and coming to terms with PTSD," he held up a hand when Tony opened his mouth to protest. "My wife just cares very much for our daughter and grandson, and if she ever corners you, you're never going to hear the end of not marrying Mary right away, taking care of both her and Peter."
"I'm not marriage material," Tony said quietly.
"No, I expect you weren't." He smiled at Tony. Peter ran over to Tony, lifting his arms to be picked up again, the brunette obliging to pick him up in his arms. "Be a good boy, Peter," his grandpa kissed her forehead. "And if your Daddy needs help-"
"555-1719," Peter recited carefully, and clearly.
"That's right, you have him call us," the man chuckled and ruffled Peter's hair.
Peter had already had lunch, before they picked him up, so nap time came just after Tony showed him to his room. Rhodey understood now why Tony had changed the sheets to blue now; Peter had been overjoyed. "You remembered my favorite color, Daddy!"
Rhodey was in the kitchen when Tony shuffled in, making them a pizza, but looking to see what they could make for dinner that would be toddler friendly. "Is he asleep?"
"Yeah, didn't take long, I think the excitement of coming here, and the car ride tuckered him out," Tony said, taking a seat on the island stool. He was about to reach for a tumbler of scotch, but stopped when, a) the crystal decanter wasn't sitting there, and b) he remembered that Peter was actually in his house. "It took a little longer to get away though, because he had his little arms around my waist. I think the arc reactor is a nightlight for him."
"Yeah?" Rhodey put down a glass of sparkling apple juice for Tony, who wrinkled his nose a little, but accepted it. It was about as close to alcohol as he was going to get until Mary picked him up the next day. "How do you feel about that?" It had only been four days since Tony had come back home, and while he had had the arc reactor for longer than that, it had only been four days that he had had any time to come to terms with what happened over in the desert.
"It feels weird," Tony admitted, feeling a bit better as he smelled the pizza int he oven. It had probably been nearly two days since he had eaten actual food, and since he couldn't have any alcohol he would actually need food sustenance. "When he first saw it, he wanted to know if that was a light in my chest, and then he says, 'I like blue.' Rhodey, I like blue," Tony let out a little laugh. "In a fashion only kids can pull off. Sometimes his little finger will tap it, lightly, but he just puts his hand over it, like he's feeling it."
"Could be good for you," Rhodey said, pulling out some frozen chicken. "Might help you come to terms with it?" Tony leveled an irritated gaze at him, one that he reserved for people who thoguht he should go to therapy, or rehab. "You can't tell me that everything is normal, now, Tony."
"Of course not, I've got a son that needs attention, so obviously nothing is normal right now," Tony said, trying to make light of the subject. Something that was not unlike Tony Stark, at all. "I have to Watch my alcoholic intake now, Rhodey!" Rhodey couldn't help but roll his eyes a little.
"I don't think that's going to be very difficult for you," Rhodey said, closing the fridge doors to face Tony, a little smile on his face. "Seeing the way that kid is in love with you?" Tony preened a little at the compliment, and the fact. "And how you didn't flinch at the word, Daddy."
"It's a better honorarium than my PhD's," Tony said easily. "What exactly are you making there, pooh bear?"
"Not sure yet, something with chicken, but it'll be for dinner," Rhodey said looking back at the chicken, then moving to go for the pantry. "I have to take stock of what you actually have in your kitchen."
"Huh, I wasn't aware that there was actually food in my kitchen," Tony commented. "Pepper must have had groceries delivered when she heard I was coming back."
"Let's be sure to send her a fruit basket, because actually humans like Peter,a nd myself, need to eat food." Rhodey rolled his eyes a little at Tony's snort. "Did Mary give you a list of things that Peter's allergic too, or foods that he doesn't like right now?" After a few moments of silence, Rhodey looked back to see Tony's slightly panicked expression. "You don't remember do you?"
"Sir, Ms Parker left a list, and I scanned it for you," Jarvis spoke up and Tony visibly relaxed, only slightly. "Young Peter currently does not like to eat anything green, but he does like foods with a sauce in the in preparation."
"Sauces?" Tony tilted his head a little.
"For instance, macaroni and cheese, spaghetti or most pasta dishes-"
"Gotcha, gotcha," Tony nodded, cutting off his AI. "Alright, so let's bring up some recipes with chicken, and sauce. Any allergies?"
"None that have been reported, or discovered, Sir," Jarvis informed him.
"How about some chicken and penne?" Rhodey said from inside the pantry, holding up a box of pasta. "Feels kind of Italian?"
"Are you trying to appease to the Italian side of my family, Rhodey?" Tony asked as he walked over to grab the box.
"What? Pander to Tony Stark?" Rhodey grinned as he grabbed some other ingredients. "Should probably make a little snack, too, for when Peter wakes up."
"Uhhhh," Tony blinked. He was quickly finding out that he didn't actually know much about the day to day care of a child. He had to give Mary so much more credit than before. Tony stepped into the pantry, blinking a little at all the different foods; cans lined one shelf, with fresh fruit and vegetables on the other side. He found a unopened jar of peanut butter, a bag of raisins, and turned to find celery. "J used to make this for me, I think he called it, ants on a log?"
Rhodey glanced over and nodded. "It's kind of a classic, easy, snack. Surprised you actually know what it is."
"Ouch, right in the gut, Rhodey." Tony feigned stumbling out of the pantry, taking a direct hit from the older mans words. "I'm pretty sure I can get this right."
Rhodey had thought that he could leave the simple snack task to Tony, the brunette diving in after he easily decimated three pieces of pizza. But after an hour and a half, and Jarvis announced that Peter was showing signs of starting to wake up, he looked over and saw that Tony's hands were coated in peanut butter, a few raisins stuck to his fingers. There were about 6 completed pieces of celery snacks, though.
"Peanut butter comes off with soap, right?" Tony asked as he walked over to the sink, touching his wrist to the faucet to start the water.
"How did you get it all over both hands?" Rhodey asked. he was making a fresh sauce for the pasta, tomatoes and garlic sitting out, and some milk, thinking he might make a kind of alfredo sauce. "Did you not use a knife?"
"Of course I used a knife!" Tony frowned, scrubbing his hands of the sticky food substance. Sitting on the cutting board was a knife, completely covered in peanut butter. "I'm gonna go get Peter." Rhodey smiled a little as he watched Tony job up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Tony gently pushed open the door to Peter's room, seeing the little boy start to turn, waking up slowly. He walked in, sitting on the side of the bed, hand reaching over to gently rub his back. peter yawned, rolling onto his back, Tony biting his lip seeing the little face scrunched up in sleep. Sleepy eyes opened and saw Tony, then Peter smiled. Tony felt something nearly explode with warmth in his chest and he reached over to pick up Peter.
"Have a good nap?" Tony asked, leaning back against the pillows, letting Peter rest on his chest, still looking kind of sleepy.
"Uh huh," he nodded, rubbing his eyes, and putting his head on Tony's chest. "This bed it big."
"Yeah, it is, huh?" Tony let his fingers run through Peter's soft hair. The motion seemed to calm Tony, as he found himself doing it more and more when he was with the boy. "Is it too big for you?" Peter shook his head a little. "That's good."
"Is your bed big?" Peter asked, innocent brown eyes looking up at him.
"Yeah, my bed is bigger than this one though." Peter's eyes widened a little more, and Tony chuckled a little. "I'm an adult, though, I need a bigger bed!"
Peter giggled a little and pushed himself up to wrap his arms around Tony's neck. Tony smiled and wrapped his arm around Peter's waist, sitting up. "I've got a snack downstairs for you, and Rhodey is making dinner. How about we eat something, then I'll show you around the house?" Peter nodded, just content to being held for the moment.
Tony carried Peter to the Kitchen, sitting back down at the stool, but the snacks, looking over at Rhodey and his progress. Peter leaned over in Tony's arms, using his finger to wipe some peanut butter off the chopping board and putting it right into his mouth.
"You like chicken, right, Petey?" Tony asked, looking at the little boy, finger still in his mouth. He tutted with a smile when Peter smiled, sucking the last of the peanut butter from his finger. "You little sneak," he chuckled. "Alright, how about the grand tour? I have a big house, and if you're going to visit more often, you should know where everything is." Tony stood up, then stopped, eyes widened a little. "Oh! I am so bad, I didn't introduce you to Jarvis!"
"Jarbis?" Peter asked, trying to get some of the peanut butter from the roof of his mouth.
"He's my AI, well, he's the voice in my house," Tony explained. "He helps run the house. J, say hi."
"Hello, young Master Peter," Jarvis said as jovially as an AI could. "It is a distinct pleasure to meet you." Peter's eyes widened when Jarvis spoke, and he turned his head around quickly, looking for the person who was talking. "I'm afraid that you won't actually find me, I have no body." Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes.
"He's cool," Tony told the little boy with a smile. "I made him." That seemed to make little Peter's eyes wider. He was still smiling, watching Peter, then tilted his head a little. Peter's wide eyes were starting to look a little red, the skin getting a little puffier? The toddler then let out a couple coughs. He wrinkled up his little face, and coughed again, turning his face into Tony's shoulder, letting out a little whine. "J?" Tony couldn't help but ask. He was hoping that he was being overly paranoid.
"Sir, I believe that young Master is having a reaction to the peanut butter." Tony's blinked and Rhodey looked up from his pot. "His heart rate is becoming elevated, and I'm detecting swelling around his eyes, and his tongue."
"Daddy?" Peter said in a quiet voice. "Not feel goob." He coughed again, but kept coughing for several seconds after.
Tony froze. Peter was having an allergic reaction, it was looking to be a bad one with the swelling happening. It had happened so quickly. Mary hadn't said he was allergic, but neither had Jarvis. They must not have known. Panic raced through Tony's brain, watching his son have trouble breathing, in his arms. He couldn't take care of a child, he wasn't meant to be a father, he couldn't take care of his own son-
Wait. Allergies. Pepper was allergic to something... Some fruit, right? Pepper had asked Jarvis to keep an emergency supply of Epipens in the house, just in case. Where were they?
"-ny?" Tony turned his head and saw Rhodey in front of him, trying to get his attention, Peter still coughing, now trying to catch his breath.
Tony moved instantly, racing to the couch, putting Peter down on the couch, rubbing his back. "Jarvis, where are Pepper's pens?"
"Colonel Rhodes, if you could please hurry to the front room." Jarvis took over, and Tony would later be forever grateful, when his brain had recovered from shock.
"Get me vitals, Jarvis," Tony demanded, staying close to Peter, not letting him go. He could see tears welling up in his eyes, brown eyes meeting Tony's. "I'm right here, bud, right here, not going anywhere."
"I'm afraid I can't right now, Sir," Jarvis told his creator. "I'm afraid that the calculations for the new scanners have not been completed."
Rhodey hurried back into the room, uncapping something. "Peter," Tony got the little boys attention back from Rhodey. "You're gonna feel a little poke, but you're going to feel better, alright?" Peter tried to nod as he wheezed in a breath. Tony held onto his hands, rubbing his knuckles. "You're doing just great, Daddy's so proud of you." The pen was pressed to Peter's leg, and the little boy winced at the feeling of the needle.
Tony watched him closely, letting out a breath when he stopped coughing, pulling him into his chest, arms around him. His own heart was beating so fast that he was sure it would override the arc reactor, and bring the shrapnel into his his heart from the fear and adrenaline alone. Peter sniffed and Tony felt some of his tears on his neck. His heart broke a little at the sound and the tears.
"Chest hurts," Peter murmured after a moment, voice thick with unshed tears and a bit of fear. Tony rubbed his back, holding him close, willing him to feel better.
"I know, buddy, but that'll stop soon," Tony said quietly. The rest of the house dissolved, and it was just Tony and his son, safe in his arms. Safe this time. He promised he would keep Peter safe, decided that not telling the press, not making him, or Mary, a face to any of his enemies, business or otherwise. But this had happened in his own home. He had been holding onto Peter, and he had frozen, he couldn't do anything. Tony vowed that would never happen again, he would never freeze, never be the reason he couldn't help Peter. If he had too, he would put Peter in a suit of-
Armor. It was time to revisit the armor that had saved his life. He had other lives to save, to protect.
Tony lay with Peter for a few hours after he went to sleep, wanting to keep the boy close, reassuring himself that he was still alright. He had thrown out the peanut butter snack, and then the peanut butter itself. He almost threw out the knife he had used, but Rhodey had taken that and thrown it in the dishwasher.
When he slipped out of Peter's room, leaving the door open a little, nightlights in the hall and the bedroom, he saw Rhodey there, leaning against the wall. They headed down the hall, towards the living room. "He okay?" Rhodey asked his friend. He had seen him shaken up, probably more shaken than Peter had been.
"Yeah, he'll be good," Tony nodded, grabbing his tablet from the coffee table. "He's a resilient little guy."
"Well, he's your kid," Rhodey stated. "And from what I've heard of his Mom, there's no reason why he shouldn't be tough. It's genetic." Tony nodded a little absentmindedly, opening a new file. "Are you going to get some sleep tonight?"
"I'm going to try," Tony told him, then sat down next to Rhodey.
"Before or after you go down to the workshop?"
"Before," Tony told him, looking up at him. "I don't want to risk sleeping in, and not getting up before Peter." He didn't mention that if he tried to sleep, the nightmares would come, and at least after he woke up, he could decompress downstairs. "You should get some sleep, too. It's late."
"You going to bed?" Tony looked at Rhodey with narrowing eyes.
"What are you? My Den Mother?" Tony was getting up, even as he threw his words at Rhodey.
"Well, since Pepper is gone, I have to be." The Airman smiled and headed upstairs to his own room, Tony following behind not long after.
"Daddy!"
"No!" Tony tried to run, tried to get to him, but he was pulled down to the ground, crashing into the dirt floor of the cave. Peter was being pulled away, he could see the water basin behind him. He had to stop them! "Peter!"
"Daddy! Hurts!" Peter cried for him, little arms reaching out for him. Tony pushed himself back up and tried to run again, until something pulled at his chest, and he gasped. The power cables from the battery snapped, the arc reactor powering down. He looked down and saw the blue glow dying in his chest. When he looked up he saw the amber eyes of his son dying, going dim, before being pushed under the water.
"Peter!" Tony cried out, stumbling to the ground, chest burning. He could feel the shrapnel, crawling towards his heart, shredding the arteries, destroying what wasn't breaking as he watched his son die. Watched what he could not stop.
Tony sat up, gasping for air, chest heaving, eyes wide. He pulled his legs from the tangled sheets and sat over the edge of the bed. Hands gripped the edge of the bed, trying to get rid of the shaking in his limbs. "J?" Tony said quietly, not trusting his voice.
"The time is One Twelve in the morning," Jarvis spoke at the small command. "Colonel Rhodes is still asleep, and Young Master Peter still sleeps soundly. There has been no change, no nightmares, and no further, visible, reactions."
Tony nodded and pushed himself up, grabbing his shoes by the door. He wiped his forehead from the sweat that had gathered from the nightmare before pulling his shoes on and tying them. Peter would probably be up by eight at the latest, and it was going to be Saturday. Tony remembered that Saturdays were pancake days.
Only a few moments later, Tony was going down the stairs to the workshop, punching in his code, and pushing the door open. "Jarvis, you up down here?"
"For you, Sir, always." His Ai's easy reply brought a little smile to his lips.
"Open the new project file, the Mark II," Tony said as he moved to the multiple monitors on his desk.
"Shall I store this on the Stark Industries Central Database?" Jarvis asked, the default place to save most projects.
"Actually," Tony breathed, trusting his gut feeling, "I don't know to trust right now. Till further notice, why don't we just keep everything on my private server?"
"Working on a secret project, are we, Sir?" Tony raised an eyebrow, thinking that the AI sounded a little sassy.
"Don't want this winding up in the wrong hands," Tony murmured, trying to forget his dream, trying to forget the enemies he was gaining, that might possibly hurt his baby boy. "Maybe in mine, it can actually do some good."
He tried to streamline the suit, the first set of armor being much too bulky, and too vulnerable. He was onto something, but he had been very limited working in that cave. Now he had Jarvis to help him imagine it, to help with the specs and the math. (Even though his math was always right.) And on the side, there was a tab constantly open, looking for the best pancake recipe. He had Jarvis immediately purge all the recipes that used any kind of nuts, in any ingredient. He was going to ask Jarvis to get him a list of all the food in the house as well, and be sure to let Pepper know that no nuts, peanuts, or peanut butter were ever to be allowed in the house again.
"Sir, the time is currently Seven am," Jarvis said several hours later, jolting Tony from his reading for a pancake recipe. "I believe that if you are to make breakfast before young Master Peter awakens, you should head up now to prepare."
Tony grunted and nodded, then pushed himself up. He looked at the progress bar as Jarvis was machining the parts for the new boots. It would take several hours anyway, and Mary would pick up Peter by then. Tony thought that he should at least grab a quick shower, change his clothes, and then make breakfast.
And hour and a half later, Tony was staring at his counter, wondering how most of the pancake batter ended up on him, the floor, and the counter, than in the bowl, and the pan to cook. The doorbell sounded and Tony jumped.
"Sir, Ms Mary Parker has arrived," Jarvis said calmly.
"Let her in, for the love of science!" Tony exclaimed, trying to push all the batter from the counter into the bowl.
"Hello?" Tony heard her voice echo from the entry hall. "Tony?"
"In the kitchen!" Tony called out. "Uh, head straight, then hang a left."
"Greeting, Ms Parker," Jarvis greeted as Mary walked into the kitchen, then stopped, looking at Tony, and the mess.
"Jarvis,... Tony what happened?" She put her purse and jacket down on the counter.
"I tried to make pancakes?" He looked a little lost, putting the bowl in the sink. Mary took a breath and nodded, pushing the sleeves of her shirt up.
"Come along, little duckling, I shall teach you how to use a kitchen." Tony's expression deadpanned, grabbing some paper towels as a floor bot started to scrub the mess on the floor. "Pancakes aren't that hard."
"I was searching for the perfect recipe," Tony admitted quietly. "Saturdays are pancakes days."
"Tony, you're so sweet," Mary said with a little smile. "It's a very simple recipe, I don't do anything special. All I do is add some vanilla extract, and some oils from orange peels."
"I have that!" Tony said hurrying into his pantry. He came back out with a little bottle, and an orange.
"How did everything go last night?" Mary asked as she pulled together all the ingredients that Tony already had sitting out. Tony helped her find some more mixing bowls, and Mary washed out ones he had already used.
Tony slowed his movements a little. He hadn't thought of a way to tell her about what happened yesterday. He was still a little shaken just thinking about it. "Uh, well, it went well." Mary looked at him, eyebrow raised. "We haven't even spent that much time together for you to know if I'm full of shit or not."
"We've spent about two years together, Tony," Mary countered. "I think that's plenty of time to get to know you." Tony snorted a little. "Did something happen?"
Tony knew he had to tell her now, before she went full on mother mode. ... Who was he kissing, it was going to happen after he told her, but better it be that way, than letting her mind come up with every horror imaginable.
"We found out that Peter has an allergy to peanut butter," Tony said simply, and watched Mary freeze in her movements. "Jarvis thinks that it's probably a nut and peanut allergy, but I wasn't about to find out..."
"Is he okay?" She turned and got closer to Tony, her voice a little higher, her head swiveling around to look for Peter. Tony put his hands on her forearms, trying to still her.
"He is now," Tony told her. "But you should probably get him to a doctor, to get diagnosed."
"Sir did some quick thinking to remember that Miss Potts keeps extra Epipens around the mansion," Jarvis informed Mary, and Tony almost wanted to facepalm as Mary's eyes widened a little.
"Epipens? You need to use an Epipen?" Her voice hitched a little and Tony held onto her a little tighter.
"He's okay, Mary," Tony said, trying to keep his voice even.
"I should have guessed, though," she pressed, closing her eyes briefly. "I've never given it to him before, I have my own nut allergy. I should have gotten him tested for that when he was-"
"Mary," Tony said sternly, and she turned her head to look at him. "He's going to be Fine. And probably in ten minutes he's going to run down here, see you, and expecting pancakes." She blinked then nodded at him. "You work on the pancakes, and I will go get him."
Mary took a couple of deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth, centering herself. "You're right, of course." She paused. "Wow, I never thought I would be saying that to you."
Tony's expression deadpanned once more. "You have to make pancakes for Rhodey, too. He's here, and he eats a lot!" He called as he headed for the stairs.
Tony stopped at the doorway to Peter's room and looked in. He pushed down the images from his nightmare, and watched the boy sleep. The reassuring rise and fall of his chest was mesmerizing to him right now. Peter was there, in his, His, bedroom, safe, asleep, Alive.
Walking inside silently, Tony carefully crept in the bed, and wrapped an around the little boy. "I will always keep you safe," he whispered, gently resting his forehead against Peter's. "No matter what. I will do anything."
November 2006
Tony rolled his neck before heading up the stairs to the living room where Obie was. That last crash in his workshop set off some forgotten aches from not sleeping, and playing with Peter. It had been nearly three weeks now since the press conference, and Mary was able to sneak into Tony's drive with Peter now, and Tony was able to sneak out to go see Peter at night.
When he couldn't sleep at night, he found himself down in his workshop, working on the the new prototype for the armor. He had the boots figured out, and he was working on a flight stabilizer now.
He heard the piano playing as he came up the stairs, and knew that Obie had been there for a little while. Tony almost froze when he saw one of Peter's stuffed animals underneath the couch, but it was hidden, mostly; nothing was peeking out.
"How'd it go?" He glanced at Obie, then saw the pizza sitting on the table. "It went that bad, huh?"
"Just because I brought pizza back from New York, doesn't mean it went bad," Obie said, still playing the piano. Tony snorted a little, grabbing a piece of pizza, as Obie decided now was the time to get up. "It would have gone better if you were there."
"You told me to low," Tony pointed at him. It counted as laying low by not taking Peter outside, right? "That's what I've been doing. I lay low and you take care of all-"
"Hey, come on," Obie interrupted him. "In public, the press. This was a board of directors meeting."
"This was a board of directors meeting?" Tony feigned shock, looking between Pepper and and Obie.
"The board is claiming you have post-traumatic stress," Obie said carefully, and Tony watched him. "They're filing an injunction."
"A what?" Tony frowned. They were doing what to him?
"They want to lock you out," Obie continued.
"Why?" Tony looked at him, tilting his head. "'Cause the stocks dipped forty points? We knew that was going to happen." They had predicted it right after the press conference.
"Fifty six and a half," Pepper corrected from her spot on the couch.
"It doesn't Matter." Tony turned to look at her, then at Obie, his voice riding in volume. "We own the controlling interest in the company!" He could afford to have the stocks dip, and he could bring it right back up if they had, too.
"Tony, the board has rights, too," Obie tried to argue. "They's making the case, that you and your new direction, isn't in the company's best interest."
Tony's eyes almost widened in disbelief, but he really shouldn't have been surprised. They were used to making weapons, to make their fortunes on others deaths and power. "I'm being responsible!" He looked between the two people again. He was trying to turn his life around, trying to make the world a better place for his son, trying to be a better person for his son. "That's a new direction for me," he paused for a second, "for the company. I mean, me on the company's behalf, being for the way that,..." He could see that they weren't buying it, just looking at him. He sighed and threw the rest of his pizza down, then grabbed the box. "This is great."
"Oh come on, Tony. Tony," Obie got up, following him, calling for him to stop.
"I'll be in the shop," Tony said without turning around.
"Hey, hey!" Tony stopped and turned to see Obie. "Hey, Tony, listen." Obie stepped up to him. "I'm trying to turn this think around, but you gotta give me something. Something to pitch to them." He saw Obie's eyes slide down the arc reactor, and he felt something shiver down his spine. "Let me have the engineers analyze that. You know, draw up some specs-"
Tony started shaking his head, taking a step back. "No. No, absolutely not." No one could touch his arc reactor, except for Peter, and himself. And maybe Pepper and Rhodey, sometimes.
"It'll give me a bone to throw the boys in New York!" Obie continued.
"This one stays with me!" Tony tried not to growl audibly. "That's it, Obie. Forget about it."
"Alright, well," Obie grabbed the pizza box. "This stays with me then." Tony shrugged and let him have it, heading back for the stairs. "You mind if I come there and see what you're doing?"
"Good night, Obie," Tony called, dismissing himself from the conversation, and dismissing Obie. He completely forgot about the stuffed animal, and how it would have been visible if you were heading towards the couch.