4.
Being responsible is boring and lonely and Tony kind of hates it.
For years he'd blown off all SI business except for occasional R&D work, content to be a retired stay-at-home dad. He hadn't been able to handle the world after Thanos won. He'd never been much use to the company before that anyway so what was the use pretending when Pepper did such an exceptional job?
But Morgan's in middle school now, and Tony's starting to notice that all the years of international travel and video conferences in different time zones and being the most badass CEO on the Most Influential People of the Year list is starting to wear on Pep, just a bit.
So when the latest potential merger gets tripped up by some slightly suspicious data that Pepper doesn't understand anyway, Tony steps up and offers to go to Tokyo for a week to inspect the labs and interview some scientists.
Turns out they're incompetent, not shady, but a few of their projects have potential. But Tony's still got two more factories to inspect and a dinner to seal the deal, and all he wants is to fly home and see his family.
His younger self—who would have avoided this trip like the plague—would not have avoided the lead scientist's frequent attempts to drag him to a gentleman's club as soon as the work day is through. But Tony's not that man anymore. He's done with dolled up ladies and too much liquor. He doesn't want to sing karaoke either. He made it clear to Pepper from the get-go that he would not be doing any socializing after hours – aside from the unavoidable final dinner – and she'd been amenable. Scratch that—she'd been relieved.
Now it's day four in Japan and Tony's taken to sneaking back to the hotel before anyone can get too pushy. The first two nights he and Happy had gone out looking for the perfect souvenirs, but his Forehead of Security had caught some kind of bug and was trying to sleep it off, so Tony's left to his own devices tonight. He hates having nothing to do. It's too early for room service, too early for bed, and too early to call home, where it's only four in the morning. He wishes he had a lab, a proper holotable. Instead all he has is a tablet. How pedestrian.
He flops down on his bed. An hour and a half until Pepper gets up and he can report to her what a model Head of R&D he's being.
At least there's someone he can whine to in the same time zone. He slips on his StarkGlasses. "This country's a drag, doll. Is there anything I can do without leaving this room that won't set the Hapster off?"
"Activating Iron Dad Protocol," FRIDAY chirps.
That's unexpected. "And what uncomfortable parenting situation is this?"
"Mini-Boss created several videos for you to be played in periods of extreme boredom."
Tony chuckles, just the thought of Peter and his boundless thoughtfulness raising his spirits a little. "Carry on then."
The video projects across his glasses. He's expecting an endearing, rambling monolog from a baby-faced Peter that no longer exists outside this personalized time capsule he made for Tony.
Instead he gets Peter and Morgan in identical Elsa outfits, wearing her signature gown from the first Frozen movie. Morgan's hair is pulled to one side of her head and braided. Peter seems to have tied a whole skein of yellow yarn to his head.
As the first few notes play of one of Elsa's ballads from Frozen 2—the pop version from the credits, not the original—Tony both hates and loves that he knows that the costuming isn't right. Then his kids start belting out the lyrics and running around the yard, and Tony laughs so hard that tears run down his face. Peter loses his faux wig somewhere in the theatrics. At one point he holds Morgan up and spins her like they're ice dancers, and it's as graceful and impressive as it is absolutely ludicrous.
Morgan ends the performance by staring directly at the camera and saying, "Bet you're not bored now! Love you three thousand, Daddy."
Peter kisses her forehead with an adorable little giggle. "Love you, Dad. Hang in there."
The glasses go dark. Tony's heart is so full of love for his ridiculous children that he can feel it pulsing in his chest.
He grabs his phone, considering. Pete should be asleep deeply enough that he won't notice a text until he wakes up in a few hours. Or seven, because as a college senior working on his undergraduate thesis he doesn't have class until three on a Wednesday.
Tony opens their latest text exchange, smirking at the last meme his kid had sent, which was so technical that most of his near genius classmates wouldn't even understand.
Screw it. A video like that deserves a reaction. Why not give the kid something to laugh about when he wakes up.
Your talents are wasted at MIT.
I should have sent you to Juilliard, Idina.
Three dots pop up almost immediately, followed by a pair of messages.
Not 2 late for Morgs
And hey! She'd get 2 stay in NYC
Tony sighs but can't help himself. If his kid's up anyway…
"What are you doing awake, Mister Stereotypical College Student?" Tony asks as soon as Pete answers the video call.
Peter yawns with such force that Tony's not sure if he's being a little shit or just has excellent timing. "Don't worry, Old Man. Your texts didn't wake me. FRI told me the ID protocol had activated."
"I was not aware you got notifications about that."
Peter chuckles. "Kinda invasive, yeah? I learned from the best."
Tony rolls his eyes, but just seeing Pete after these last lonely days makes him feel better. "Aren't you gonna wake up Mini Potts?"
"Nah. Em left early for a protest. Don't sleep good without her anyway. Might as well talk to you."
Sometimes it's still hard for Tony to process that Peter's basically an adult now, cohabitating with a girl he loves and just a few months from getting his first degree. When Tony was his age, he'd never stayed with the same woman for more than four days. Peter and Michelle have been together for four years.
Sometimes he misses the Peter he still sometimes sees on the Iron Dad videos. He'd needed Tony more when he'd had less of his own life. But the life that he's built for himself is truly spectacular, and it's even more impressive when Tony remembers how shattered he'd been after the spell. He's doing groundbreaking research and impressing all his professors while lowering crime rates in his new city and holding down a stable relationship. Tony can't imagine being any prouder.
And in just a couple months he's coming back to New York. Michelle's got a job lined up, and Peter's going to put his thesis research into active production at SI.
The kid makes the world better each and every day. In the suit and out of it.
Proud is such an inadequate word for the way Tony feels.
"Glad to see where I rank, kiddo," he says, but he's just teasing, and Peter knows it. Michelle might have edged Tony out just a bit, but that's okay. That's the way it's supposed to be. Tony ranks high enough that Pete wrote a program to make sure he felt supported and affirmed and loved. It's a real special club, being one of Peter Parker-Stark's favorite people.
"Why don't you tell me about Japan? I'm sure you can lull me back to sleep."
But they're both still awake when Pep calls two hours later to check in. They'd discussed the merger in great detail, and Peter had thoughts about how one of the products was an excellent fit, and another might be a bit of a PR disaster. He's going to be an excellent CEO one day, if he wants the role that is. But the latest updates on his research are so impressive that Tony knows he'd be just as excellent heading R&D. The kid's got options, and once Morgan's old enough to join him, well—their little video certainly proves they're an unstoppable team.
"Say hi to Pepper for me," Pete says, after Tony indicates that he better take a call from the missus. "You can tell her I think you're doing a wonderful job on the merger. Five stars."
Stupid as it may be—he's the adult here, thank you very much—something flutters in his chest at the praise. Maybe being responsible isn't so bad.
5.
"I'm going to kill him."
"You can't kill him. Or her. Whoever Mo's into. No judgement. Though it's probably a him if you're freaking out this bad."
Tony's not expecting an Iron Dad video today. Almost eight years after the protocol was enacted, he thought he'd run through them all. Yet here's baby Peter, just a few years older than Morgan is now, lecturing him for panicking about her very first date.
It is a him. Daxton Donovan. Tony's usually a big fan of alliteration, but something about this grates. What kind of name is Daxton? Clearly his parents had been going through a Blip crisis.
"Look, I know you've already had FRIDAY run a full background check on the guy. And his parents. And his grandparents and great grandparents. So you know they're not Hydra or something," baby Peter lectures.
Tony had not actually considered that. He was just run of the mill dad spiraling, not I'm a superhero and a billionaire and that makes everyone I love a target spiraling. Damn it. Now he needs FRI to run three more checks, but it's not like she knows who's in Hydra. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s whole problem was they didn't know.
What if Daxton is a Skrull?
"FRI, run this guy's whole family – immediate and extended – against every government watchlist. Every S.W.O.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D. database too."
"It's going to be okay, Dad."
"How do you know that?" Tony snaps. He knows damn well how gross boys can be at that age. At most ages, honestly. And the thought of his little girl alone with someone who could hurt her, break her heart, steal her innocence… He won't feel better until he blasts this Daxton punk with a repulsor. Not on full blast. Stun. Probably.
"Morgan's got a real good head on her shoulders. She's smart, and she won't take shit from anybody. You and Pepper both taught her that."
Fair. And back in his womanizing days, Tony had never exactly been subtle. All the women he'd slept with had known pretty quickly what he was after, and they hadn't complained. The thought still makes his stomach roll. Clearly this is his punishment for every wrong he's ever done. Reformed Playboy Becomes Responsible Father, Loses His Mind When Daughter Starts to Date.
"It's not a good look, Iron Man blasting some innocent teen. You'll regret it. Morgan will be mad. Pepper will be even madder."
Fair point. When Tony had told Pepper about Morgan's upcoming date, she'd looked at him with her sternest stare and forbid him from getting involved.
"I survived dating, didn't I? I mean, presumably. And you didn't have to blast anyone for me. I hope you didn't have to blast anyone for me."
He would have. No hesitation. Except Tony had been playing dead when Peter and Michelle got together, and by the time he emerged from hiding the pair had already exchanged I love you's and survived Peter's public outing as Spider-Man, a catastrophic memory spell, and the fact Peter waited six months to restore her memory from said catastrophic spell. Basically, that ship had already sailed.
Truth be told, he's not sure he could take Michelle—then or now—without a gauntlet and a suit. And he'd practiced hand to hand combat with Captain America.
But they're good for each other and that's different and what use is Tony if he can't protect his kids from everything, and that includes stalkers and rapists and hormones and heartbreak.
"Morgan's growing up, and that's probably scary. But Morgan's growing up. Isn't that exciting? It's so much better than if she didn't. Things might change but that's just part of life and she'll still love you even when she's in a relationship. Unless you kill someone she really cares about and then she'll probably be mad. So don't do that."
A tear slips down Tony's cheek. Isn't that the crux of it, though? Morgan's growing up. She isn't his little girl anymore. She's more and more her own person every day.
Pete had never been his little boy. He'd been fourteen when Tony met him. Fifteen when they started getting closer. Seventeen when Tony became his father. Even at fourteen he'd had the weight of the world on his shoulders, with a past full of loss and responsibility he'd chosen to carry.
Tony had gone to MIT at fifteen, abandoning the shards of his childhood too early, picking up adult vices one by one until he became that man that disgusts him now, the one he needs to shield Morgan from.
But he'd held Morgan in his arms when she was only minutes old. Witnessed so many firsts. Watched her personality emerge.
He'll never do any of that again. Morgan was his first and last shot.
He doesn't want to let that go.
"Look, you can't kill Morgan's date or threaten him or anything scary. But if you're really worried I could probably keep an eye on them. First date only—not all of them! Cause Spidey's got way better things to do than stalk his sister. But let's face it, Spider-Man is way more subtle than Iron Man. And if it lowers your blood pressure and keeps you out of jail I could probably help you out. For the family. So, uh, call me I guess?"
The video closes. Tony scrubs a hand across his face and then reaches for his phone.
Peter picks up the video call on the second ring.
"Does the offer still stand?" Tony asks.
Peter blinks once. Then his face settles into a disapproving frown. "I was joking. Please tell me you understand that I was joking." Peter looks tired and sounds exasperated. What he isn't is confused.
"Protocol rat me out again?"
"Yeah. But Morgan texted me this morning and asked me to run interference. She knew you'd freak out."
His kids have been in collusion since the day they met. Normally he loves it. But this is ridiculous. As if he needs his son to intervene in his parenting. "Did you tell her you planned to run interference eight years ago?"
"Nah. I left that part out. I just told her I wouldn't let you do anything crazy."
"This boy is probably not a psychopath. But what if he's a psychopath?"
"Don't they screen for that kind of thing at her fancy school?"
"Midtown let Flash in."
Peter rolls his eyes. "Flash wasn't a psychopath."
That's why his kid is too good for this world. Eugene Thompson had bullied him for years, and Peter doesn't hold any of it against him.
Tony would have made that little sociopath pay, but by the time he understood the extent of it, Flash had forgotten all the rotten stuff he'd ever done, and Peter forbade Tony from getting involved.
"Well I don't want Morgan dating a bully. Or a jock. Or some entitled rich kid." Tony thinks on it and comes up with the only palatable solution. "Basically she can only date someone like you."
"Thanks, I guess. But also, eww."
Tony chuckles at Peter's look of disgust. "So, I believe you offered to spy on exactly one date. If you can provide an accurate character assessment and a detailed summary of every topic of conversation, maybe I can relax. Also, make sure he doesn't get handsy. And he better not go in for a kiss. They're fourteen."
"I'd say that I can't believe you're serious, except I can totally believe that you're serious."
"What do you say, champ? Help your old man out? So Iron Man doesn't blast a teenager, end up in jail, and tank the stock prices on the company you'll inherit half of one day?"
Peter reaches back and rubs at the base of his neck. "I would, even though you're ridiculous and that's one of the most extra things I've ever heard you say, which is saying a lot—"
"Hey there Spidey, you offered. Maybe you think you're all wise now, but your younger self totally got me!"
"But I'm guessing Morgan's date isn't within five blocks of my apartment? I'm not really allowed to go any further than that at the moment. Though maybe I could send Droney."
Tony raises an eyebrow. "Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise? What's got you grounded?"
"I'm not grounded. Em just wants me close in case the baby comes."
Oh. Oh. That's why his kid looks so rough. "Isn't the due date in like two weeks?"
"Thirteen days. But she thinks it'll be sooner. She has a – MJ tingle."
"Ah, yes. Mother's intuition."
"Did Pepper know when Morgan was coming?"
Tony hasn't thought much of those crazy months since he survived them, although he knows Pep has given Michelle pointers. Tony thought it more helpful if Peter didn't know he'd been an absolute basket case. But the world had been literally devolving into chaos because half of everyone was gone, Tony had been grieving the loss of the son he hadn't quite figured out he'd even had, and he was still fairly certain he was going to ruin his child's life. Today's world certainly had problems, but in comparison, everything was peachy. "No. Little Miss came six days early, but Pep was convinced she'd keep us waiting. Like her father, she said. Rude. Pregnant Potts was a bit salty, I've gotta say."
"Because she never puts you in your place when she's not carrying your child."
"Adult Underoos is pretty salty himself," Tony quips back, though truthfully he loves it. Pete was tentative with him for so long. Even when they joked around, Tony could tell Peter was afraid that Tony's affection could be withdrawn if he crossed a line. But it's been years since those fears were vanquished forever. His kid knows now there's nothing he could say that would make Tony turn on him. Especially when they're just teasing each other.
"Just telling it like it is, Dad."
"Sure, sure, sure, Junior. But what's up with you? You look tired. You're supposed to be sleeping extra now, before the baby comes, not getting a jump on the sleep deprivation."
"I know," Peter groans. "That's what all the videos say."
"So what's the problem?"
Peter gnaws at his lip, and Tony realizes his kid doesn't just look tired. He looked exhausted, practically shaking with something Tony should have realized immediately if he wasn't so wrapped up in his own problems.
Morgan's problems. But still.
"What if something happens?" Peter whispers. "With Em, and the baby? The delivery, and afterwards … what if it's my fault?"
How Tony wishes he and Pete were in the same room right now, so he could hug those fears away. New parent nerves are normal, but Pete has a tragic history of losing people he loves and a particular reason to worry about passing on his genes.
Tony's a bit worried too, honestly, but he won't let Pete see that when what he needs is steady reassurance.
"Hey now. None of that. That's why we had Helen do a full genetic workup on baby Parker-Stark. Kid's probably gonna be a little spidery, but she didn't see anything that suggests it won't be healthy or could cause any danger to Michelle. But we've got the doc on a leash not much longer than yours, just in case. Soon as Michelle goes into labor, Helen will be there in case anything gets weird."
"I know, but—"
"Hate to break it to you, Roo, but this overwhelming panic—it's kinda a parenting staple. You gotta get used to the idea that despite your worries, everything is gonna be okay."
"Like with Morgan's date?"
"Touché, young padawan."
"I mean, Morgan probably isn't gonna fall in love with this guy and run off to a state where minors can get married."
"I see what you're doing here."
"Daxton's probably not a jock and a bully and rich. It's not a very athletic school, you know."
"Seriously, Parker."
"Still think everything's going to be all right? With your kid and with mine?"
"Yes, fine! Everything's going to be all right. I don't have to freak out about Morgan's date. You don't have to freak out about Michelle's delivery. Are you happy now?"
"Maybe."
"It's going to be okay, Peter," Tony says, dropping all the sass. He tries to infuse the words with as much sincerity as he can muster. "And whatever happens – I'm here for you. You're gonna be an excellent father. And I can't wait to see it."
Turns out Tony isn't done with milestones and little kiddos after all. The thought sparks an idea. He's already thinking about production value and pithy advice when he says, "Until then, you said something about your drone?"
+1
Peter has a problem: he can't get Benji to stop crying.
Forty-five minutes into the first afternoon left alone with his child, and it's already an unmitigated disaster.
Michelle's been an absolute champ, handling seven hours of labor, frequent late-night feedings, and seventeen days of constant attention from a (sometimes literally) clingy newborn. For someone who doesn't even like people that much, it's been a lot. All she'd asked today was for a few hours to herself to go to Central Park to sketch some people in crisis whose last name didn't include the word Parker. Of course Peter told her to go, even though his anxiety spiked the second Em suggested leaving, and intensified the moment she stepped out the door.
As soon as her footsteps faded down the hallway, Benji started wailing. He hasn't stopped since.
"Come on buddy," he coos down at his son, trying to rock him as he paces the apartment. "It's just you and me. We can do this. We can prove to Mommy that we can be left alone together. I can totally do this."
Benji lets out a cry so piercing Peter's afraid he's going to have a full-on sensory migraine by the time Em gets back. His son's little chubby face is as red as a tomato, and when he flails his fist into Peter's chest it actually hurts. He's a bit spidery already, and that's going to be … interesting.
Or, you know, a flat-out nightmare.
"I can't do this," Peter groans.
"Activating the Spider-Dad Protocol," Karen chirps from his souped-up watch/tracker/web shooter that both Em and Tony insist he wears constantly.
"What?" Karen's words should make sense, probably, but he's so tired they just seem like gibberish.
"Mister Dad has inserted this protocol into my programming to assist you with difficult parenting moments. Your current distress has initiated the protocol. Playing orientation message now."
Then a message projects from his wrist and Tony is there, looking perfectly polished and well rested down in his workshop. There's an Iron Man helmet from an old Mach on the work bench, next to a spare spider suit. There's no reason Tony would have been working on either recently. Peter knows it's staged. Tony is a master at controlling a narrative, when he cares enough to bother – or Pepper makes him. But damn if it doesn't calm Peter down anyway. He's always loved a good Iron Man/Spider-Man team up.
"Hey Daddy-o," video Tony says. "First off, take a breath. In and out. You got this. You can do this. If I can do this, you can definitely do this."
"How would you know?" Peter mutters. But the deep breathing helps a little.
"How do I know? Because you've got the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. And so much strength. Physical. Mental. Emotional. You can lift a warehouse off yourself and keep on doing good when you think you're utterly alone in the world. I'm confident you can handle something the majority of the population—including me—has managed since the dawn of time."
Peter feels tears prick in his eyes. Is he never going to sleep again? Even if he can do this, he's not doing it well. All he wants to do is make his son happy and safe, but right now Benji's miserable, and Peter doesn't know why. What if everything's too loud and too bright and that's Peter's fault, because he passed on his out-of-control genes to a defenseless little baby who can't even tell them what's wrong?
"I know it's scary, Roo. I was so out of my depth with Morgan, you should have seen me. I was out of my mind. I was out of my depth and out of my mind with you too, in the beginning. But the love that causes the fear—that's how you know it's going to be okay. Because you love your kid. And at the end of the day that's what matters. If they know that—if you tell them, and show them, and let that drive all your actions—then you and your kid are going to be okay. You're gonna be exceptional. Because even when you make mistakes—and you will, we all do—your kid will forgive you. And you'll forgive yourself. So just focus on that a second. The love. Not the fear."
Peter looks down at Benji, who has finally stopped wailing. He's reaching a grabby hand toward his grandpa, who isn't there, and Peter manages a broken laugh that only mostly sounds like a sob.
He does love this kid. This wailing red-faced monster that does nothing but eat, poop, and scream is absolutely the best thing he's ever seen. Peter loves him so much he feels like he could burst. Peter just wants to give his son everything he wants and needs, but he doesn't know how.
"You got this, champ. I know you do. It gets easier. Then it gets harder again. Parenting's quite the roller coaster. But I've seen you swing through the skies. You've got the stomach for it. So take a few more breaths, and I should be there in five, four, three, two, one—"
Peter's blinking at the recording when someone knocks on the front door. He jumps, one arm reaching up to the ceiling to catch himself with his sticky fingers. Benji wails at the sudden jolt.
"Great," Peter mutters as he drops back to the floor. "It's okay, buddy. One day you won't think heights are so scary. One day far in the future, or your mom will kill me."
Benji's fussing has lessened to DEFCON 2 by the time Peter opens the door.
Tony's shit-eating grin is entirely out of place. Peter still feels better the second he lays eyes on his dad.
"Don't tell me you timed that message just so you could make an entrance."
"Don't you know it," Tony says. "I had FRI run the calculations on how long it would take me to get from my place to yours. Did a test run and everything."
Peter eyes Tony's watch. "You flew here, didn't you? You're supposed to be retired."
Tony shrugs. "I can unretire for a family emergency." He scratches at the back of his neck. "Maybe don't tell Pepper."
Tony finally seems to get a good look at Peter's pathetic state, because his eyes widen. "Awww, kid," he says, before pulling Peter into a hug.
Peter shifts Benji so he won't be smushed, and then absolutely melts into his dad. The tears fall without his consent. They burn down his cheeks as he swallows a sob. "Not a kid anymore," he mumbles into Tony's chest, enveloped by strong arms and a familiar scent. "I have my own kid."
Tony reaches up and cradles Peter's head. His hair's shorter than it used to be, though he hasn't had time for a trim since Benji was born. Tony's fingers comb through it anyway, making Peter feel young and treasured and safe. "You'll always be my kid, bambino. Even when your kid's having kids. Even when their kids are having kids. This doesn't change."
Peter lets himself just live in that for a moment. Then another. That security he'd lost so many times, that Tony had given back to him. But that's not really the issue here. "I'm so bad at this," Peter sniffles.
"Nah. Kiddo's quiet now, isn't he?"
Peter had been so busy having his own meltdown he hadn't even noticed. Benji's staring at his grandpa with wide-eyed wonder. The same wonder Peter felt for so many years. Still does, deep down, beneath all the hard-earned, blissful familiarity. "Cause he likes you."
"What can I say? I am dazzling. Can't turn that off."
Peter pulls back enough to thrust Benji in Tony's direction. "You should take him."
"Nah. You got this."
"But I don't!"
Benji sniffles, and Peter's come to recognize that scrunch in his features. It'll be just a few seconds until the waterworks start.
Tony leans over and tickles his tummy. "Hey, spider-bite. You been giving your dad a hard time? Maybe lay off him a little. I'm very fond of him, you know?"
Benji goes still, his wide eyes locked on his grandpa. Peter's relieved and jealous all at once. He hates the jealousy, he's glad Benji calmed down, but he wants to be the one to make that happen and he can't do it and he doesn't know why-
"Let's move this to the couch, champ. You look ready to drop."
Peter lets himself be guided to the nearest sofa. He does feel better once he's off his feet. That feeling's magnified when his dad tugs him close so his head falls on his shoulder.
"So here's the thing about babies. They're great at picking up on other people's emotions. When you freak out, they freak out."
The words buzz through him. May. He narrows his eyes, wondering if Tony meant to mirror part of their first conversation. He must. His words are too exact not to be intentional. Peter wishes she was here. He's pretty sure she had no experience with babies. Maybe he'd feel better if someone else was clueless. But mostly he wishes she could meet Ben's namesake. Could see that Peter was trying to live the life she wanted for him. To not lose Peter Parker to the rigors of Spider-Man. He just wishes that she was alive, living the life she deserved. Helping others and calling him baby and making the worst baked goods known to man.
"It's hard when they can't tell you what they need," Tony continues. "But they'll grow out of that. And then one day they'll become a teenager and start deliberately keeping quiet. It's a bit of a maddening cycle."
And okay, so yes, maybe Peter is on edge, and has been since the moment MJ told him she was pregnant. It's not that he doesn't want to be a dad. He absolutely does. And he wasn't even particularly worried about being bad at it until Em walked out the door this morning and he realized his ineptitude. But he's so fucking terrified about what his spider genes will do to this kid, and any others he might have in the future. Peter had been fourteen when he got his powers. Everything had hurt so much right after the bite that he'd thought he was dying. Then suddenly he was better than fine, and he'd embraced his spidery side with all the enthusiasm of the dumb kid he'd been. He hadn't really known what was going on, but he'd grown up hearing stories about Captain America and the Avengers. It had been easy to be thrilled instead of terrified. But Benji would never know what it was like to be normal. He'd have to keep what he was a secret his entire life, or risk fear, prejudice, maybe even persecution. Even once he could talk, how was he supposed to tell anyone when something was wrong when things would always be too much? And things could go horribly wrong. Doctor Cho was trying to be proactive but they didn't actually know what half-enhanced genes would do. And that broken half was Peter's. If anything went wrong, it would be Peter's fault. How was he supposed to live with that?
"Hey, kid, what's going on in that overthinking head of yours?" Peter feels a tap on his forehead and focuses up. Tony had flicked him between the eyes.
"I never should have become a father."
The words burst forth, honest and awful, and Tony laughs, one quick harsh burst.
"Is that funny?" Peter snaps, hurt bleeding through.
Tony goes still and serious. He reaches out and wipes away a tear Peter didn't even realize had fallen. "No, Roo. Just familiar."
"It's not the same."
"Not exactly."
"Not at all. My genes. They're – unpredictable! Benji could be screaming because everything is too loud and we wouldn't know. We can't know until he can talk. He could go through years of agony and it will be my fault."
Peter closes his eyes and gives into the misery tearing through him. Hot tears fall, and he lets out a very unmanly sob. He's too old to act like this, but he can't help it.
But then Tony's pulling him tighter into his side, rubbing up and down his back. "Hey now. First off, we can run some sensory tests if you're really that worried. I'll work up some spider-bite sized solutions this afternoon if I have to. We're not gonna let your little man suffer, I promise. But let's table that for a second. Can you look at me, kiddo? Please."
The look on Tony's face makes Peter want to start crying again. He's fierce and soft and utterly fixated on Peter with an intensity that makes Peter want to hold on to him and never let go.
"Life is unpredictable. I was so sure that I'd be a shitty father, just like my old man. There were days that I definitely felt like I was. But on most of those days, I had an adoring, wise beyond his years spider-kid to set me straight and tell me to stop being dramatic. So, it's time for me to return the favor. I love you, kid. So damn much. But stop being so dramatic."
Tony's words are so unexpected it's like he threw water in Peter's face. Peter snorts and sputters but then somehow he's laughing, the weight lifted off his chest. Benji gurgles in his arms, all warm and soft and oblivious to his father's existential crisis. Peter twists to press a kiss to his dark, wispy hair. He breathes in his sweet baby scent and something settles. Love swells up inside him, making everything better. For Benji, who's perfect even with those lungs. For Tony, his constant savior. For Em, for putting up with him.
"There we are," Tony says, his hand skittering up Pete's side. "Look, parenting is hard. Half of this spiral is probably the sleep deprivation talking. But you don't have to do it solo, even when Michelle needs some alone time. I'll be here in a heartbeat, whenever you need me. Pep too. And Morgan owes you unlimited babysitting for how much time you spent with her when she was growing up. There's no shame in needing help. Hell, when Maguna was born Happy basically moved in with us for the first three years. It's not readily apparent, but he's kinda a baby whisperer, so add him to your speed dial too. I made Rhodey take breaks from Avenging for weeks at a time just to stay over and try to keep me sane. It takes a village, or whatever. And you have quite a village who adores you." Tony presses a kiss to the crown of Peter's head. "Though I'm the mayor, and I will fight anyone who wants to come for my title."
Peter laughs at his tone and his words and the insane impossibility that has somehow become his life.
"Benji might give you the run around now. But once he learns to communicate. God that kid is going to love you to death. And that is one of the best feelings in the entire world. You and your sister taught me that."
Peter's chest does that funny thing it does every time Tony gets vulnerable—his feelings so big he doesn't know how to describe them, but it's like his heart actually grows like the Grinch's and he's light enough to fly. He loves Tony so much. The thought of the tiny little person in his arms ever feeling that strongly about him—the same awe and pride and reverence—it's inconceivable.
He's been trying for so many years to tell Tony what he means to him. That was the point behind every Iron Dad video – the silly ones and the serious ones and the ones that were mostly rambling or just goofing around. Because Peter's not always good at saying things in the moment, but he needed his dad to know. And now, staring down at his son, he realizes the best gift Tony ever gave him, and the words just come tumbling out.
"Benji wouldn't be here without you. I owe you everything, Dad."
The words linger, sacred in a way Peter doesn't understand. Tony's eyes drift from Peter to Benji and back again before he answers softly, "That's not true."
"It is! Without you I'd never have made up with MJ. But I also—I wouldn't have—I wasn't going to make it, living the way I was. Not for much longer. Not to mention the fact that I was bleeding out. I literally wasn't going to make it."
"Hey." Tony reaches out and palms the back of his neck, anchoring him. "Sure, I created a magic-proof AI and listened when it hassled me. But other than that, all I did was love you. And loving you was easy. I couldn't even help it. Think of the spider-bite." Tony gazes down at Benji, soft as a feather pillow. "Benji's here because of you. You did the hard work. Talking to Sam. Admitting to me how you were feeling. Getting up every morning even when you were on your own. Telling Michelle you'd let her forget about you for six months. I think that was actually your biggest feat."
Peter snorts, and the tension breaks. That had been its own level of terror.
"I'm so proud of you, kid."
"You always say that."
"I always mean it."
"You really are the best dad." Peter reaches out and grabs Tony's hand, refusing to let go. "Have I convinced you yet?"
"Well." Tony squeezes his hand. He seems lost for words. Peter counts that as a win. "Maybe. But soon I'll have competition."
"We can share the title."
Tony smirks. "Pepper would say I'm not good with sharing. But I wouldn't mind sharing this. Especially since I'm gonna hand over all my trade secrets. Just you wait until the Iron Dad advice starts flying at you. The only thing this protocol needs is a better name. Spider-Dad just doesn't roll off the tongue. I've been workshopping some alternatives. Peter Papa. Aracni-daddy. Spidey-Pops."
"Please don't," Peter groans. "I take back every nice thing I ever said about you. You're an evil genius, and you're mean."
Tony's laughter, rich and deep and endless, chases away the last of Peter's worries. "Love you too, kiddo."
