Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Marvel Studios, Disney, Warner Bros. Entertainment, and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: Aaaaand here we go! Here is the last chapter for this particular story! Feels weird to say for this one in particular, idk.

Chapter title comes from Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses. This chapter title was selected specifically for Tony's daughter (whose name is revealed in this chapter, although you've probably already known who she is haha), but I think it fits the overall vibe of the chapter too.

Okay, as for where we are going next after this: there's only one one-shot between this and the next multi-chap (not counting the companion pieces), so not much in-universe between them. Still, might be a bit until I get the multi-chap out. As I often say, we'll see.

I've also done some editing of one of the other chapters in this story to fix a small plot hole I noticed, and I might be doing that again in the future. Try as I might, I am not infallible lol. So if things look slightly different on future rereads, that's why.

As always, I hope you all enjoy. Until the next time,

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~the black and gold 'verse~

~black and gold~

~chapter 18: sweet child o' mine~

The rest of the year was...eventful, to say the least. Which made sense, considering how it had started in February, Tony supposed. He was glad that when he said "eventful," though, it was almost all in good ways. Most of the bad would come later.

(But he'd get into that.)

On October 2nd, in the very early hours of the morning and several days late, Tony and Bruce were woken up by an announcement from JARVIS. "Sirs, Master Grayson wishes for me to inform you that he believes that he is in labor," the AI said.

Predictably, as like when his water had broken with Edward and Gemma, Tony instantly went from groggy to wide awake. "Is – is he sure?" he asked, having to stop to yawn. Bruce, meanwhile, made himself productive by turning on the table lamp on his side of the bed. "What's the timing of his contractions?"

"They have been occurring at fifteen-to-twenty minute intervals and are lasting about thirty to fifty seconds each."

Tony grimaced. "Yep. He's in labor."

Dick's labor lasted for much, much longer than Tony's with either Lili or Harley had. Over twenty-three hours, to be precise, meaning that it wasn't until the 3rd that he gave birth. Tony felt awful about it. It was one thing when he'd been the one doing it and experiencing the pain (during and after) the five, soon to be six, times he'd given birth; it was another to watch one of his own children go through the same, without the benefit of an epidural or any other sort of hospital medication.

He'd elected to have a home birth, you see. Since he was over the age of eighteen and his pelvis was shaped well enough for it, Dr. Maxwell had decided that he could give birth at home if he wanted to. Tony and Bruce had talked about seeing if they could try to talk him out of this, but since they'd been unsuccessful in talking him out of not telling Zatanna, they'd decided they wouldn't have much luck with this, either. Dick was way too stubborn for that.

Tony was there in his bedroom with him for most of it, as his mamma had been with him during his labor with Harley. Not all, because he had to take breaks for naps, eating, and a shower due to his own pregnancy, but most. Bruce and Jason were there for him almost as much as Tony was, although Jason fled as soon as they were approaching the transitional phase. "Sorry, Dickie, but I'm not watching that," he said.

"Then fucking leave!" Dick snapped at him.

After Jason had left the room, the eighteen-year-old let out a sigh, burying his face into his arms. He was leaning into the birthing ball Tony had gotten him, his arms placed on its top. "Tony, why didn't you ever tell me – fuck! – it was thisbad?" he groaned.

His adoptive omither smiled bittersweetly. "If I had told you, would you have believed me?"

Dick considered his words. "...No, probably not," he acknowledged. Another groan slipped out of his mouth. "Why can't this be over already? I just want her to come out!"

A tale as old as time, Tony joked to himself. Out loud: "Just keep on thinking about how great it's going to be when she's here and it's all done. You'll have a cute new baby, no more pain, and you won't have to go through this ever again if you don't want to."

"Good," Dick muttered. "Because once is more than enough...shit!"

Before it was one o'clock in the morning on the 3rd, with the help of Dr. Maxwell and Tony, the only ones then allowed in the room, he finished the feat that so many before him had accomplished. Mari Antonia Grayson came into the world, crying and screaming. Dick had already been crying by that point, but he lost it entirely as soon as he got to hold her in his arms. "Oh, Mari, Mari," he sobbed.

Mari looked a lot like him: she had most of his facial features, his skin tone, and his particular shade of dark brown hair. The only major difference between the two of them, as would be proven later, was her eye color, because she'd inherited Zatanna's dark brown. But Dick, as any good omither would, wouldn't care about that: he clearly loved his daughter from first sight.

Tony was the third person to hold her, after Dick and the doctor. "Hi, baby girl," he whispered, ghosting his finger along her cheek. She hadn't even been cleaned off yet, but she'd settled down enough to stop her wails. "I'm your nonni."

"Nonni" was the Italian word for a grandomither, similar to Thonna for a grandthemither. He and Dick had decided that would be a good honorific for him, one that didn't make him sound too old.

Similarly, they'd decided that Bruce would be called Avo, which came from the Portuguese word for grandfather, "Avô."The circumflex had simply been taken off.

When he was allowed into the room, after everything was cleaned up a bit and Dick had been allowed to nurse Mari for the first time, the alpha turned into a blubbering mess – in a good way. He'd never really been that way for any of the kids' births, but Tony understood. This was their first grandchild, really; how could he not get choked up?

"She's perfect," he murmured once he was able to calm himself down. "Absolutely perfect."

...Yes, as you'd probably expected, it took quite a bit of cajoling on Tony's part to get him to give Mari back and leave the room. Just because Tony understood, it didn't mean that Dick didn't need his rest.

Thankfully, given the situation, he'd decided to take a gap year from Gotham University and getting his own apartment, so he didn't have any schoolwork or medical leave to worry about like Tony had at a similar age.

Life got hectic quickly, as it always did with a new baby in the house. The kids loved their new niece, taking quick affection to her even if she cried a lot. It hadn't been too long ago that Edward and Gemma had been the same way (they still cried a bit themselves, to be fair), and it wouldn't be too much longer until they had a new sibling doing the same exact thing.

At the end of the month that Mari had been born, Bruce and Tony mutually decided that it was time. Tony couldn't have told you why: it was Halloween, so earlier in the night they had gone out trick-or-treating with all the kids sans Dick, but with the additions of Selina's and Dinah's kids and the two women themselves, and that had been a huge affair. Tony had gone as a simple witch this year, with the hat, robes, and all, and Bruce a vampire. The kids had worn their various costumes.

But that wasn't the point. The point was, with eleven kids to watch out for, though two of them were toddlers and he spent most of the night pushing them around in their stroller...it was a lot. He should've been too exhausted for what came next.

But then, after they'd put the kids to bed, as they were getting out of their costumes in their bedroom, they looked at each other at the same time.

Just like that, they knew.

"Would you like to...?" Bruce started to ask, before he had to stop to wet his lips. Tony had never seen him this nervous about it before, not even when they'd been on their honeymoon.

Damn Talia for what she had done to him. He hoped, despite not being a religious person, that she would rot in hell.

"Of course I would," he said. Then, carefully, "But only if you do."

Bruce smiled. "I do."

They'd talked about this before, what to do versus what not when this day came, when they were both finally ready to have sex again for the first time since before Afghanistan. Mainly, Bruce wanted Tony to be underneath him at all times, at least for now, since from what he remembered, Talia had always been on top. Both of them additionally wanted the table lamps on their nightstands to be on during the entire time, albeit it was Tony who wanted it the most. The darkness of the cave with only dim light, electric or fire, had been more than enough for him.

Tony took off his bra, because besides his underwear and the flannel pajama pants he'd just put on, that was the only thing he'd been left wearing. Which maybe would've made their conversation seem a little strange to most, considering that Bruce wasn't much better, but oh well; "most" didn't need to know the details of their personal lives, no matter what they thought.

He climbed into his and Bruce's bed and got comfortable, making sure that the pillows were supporting him just right, that he wasn't in a position where his back would be hurting later, and etcetera. Bruce chuckled as he took off the flannels, although he left his boxers, before he got into bed as well. He hovered over him, a broad expanse. He placed a gentle kiss on Tony's forehead, then another on his lips that was chaste and sweet.

The others, he trailed down Tony's throat until he got to his mating gland, where he started to suckle.

Bruce had done this since Afghanistan without the sex, but it still felt magical with the added context. This only became more pronounced when he reached down into Tony's pants and underwear and cupped his cocklet in his hands.

"Alpha," Tony moaned breathlessly.

He felt Bruce's smile against his skin as he started to jerk him off. After more than eleven years of marriage, he knew all the tricks, the things that Tony liked. He was able to get him over the edge in hardly no time at all.

"Bruce," Tony admonished him lightly afterwards, even with his brain being a little high and floaty. He would've preferred a little bit more time and action before having that orgasm.

But thank God that, unlike alphas and male betas, he didn't have a refractory period. Bruce grinned at him and reminded him of that: "Don't worry," he said. "You don't have to be patient tonight."

The alpha took his pants and underwear off for him. Tony was already wet now, so the two fingers that he used to start preparing him were hardly a burn at all. Bruce left it at only those two fingers, as per usual with them. Tony always liked the burn that came afterwards.

When they were ready, Bruce lined himself up and slowly started to enter him. It was amazing. Tony's eyes fluttered as he filled him up. It had been too long since he'd felt this. In some ways, it felt like his final homecoming since Afghanistan. Now that almost everything had been completed, that he'd stopped his weapons from being sold without his knowledge or consent to people he'd never have agreed to sell them to and the men that had come after him and his family, he could finally stop and breathe. Get some rest. Enjoy the simple pleasures in life.

Once Bruce was fully seated, he paused and nipped at Tony's ear. "Just tell me when," he whispered. It was a first for them, but not unwelcome.

Tony closed his eyes and inhaled softly. "Okay," he said.

Bruce knew the right pace. He knew all of the right spots to give Tony everything that he needed. As he had said, Tony didn't need to be patient. His second orgasm came just before Bruce's, the feeling of his knot swelling at the rim of his hole enough to do the trick. The alpha groaned as he came inside of him. "Tony...Omega..."

They basked in each other's presence afterwards, side-by-side, waiting for Bruce's knot to come down. When it did, Tony pulled himself out and then crawled further down the mattress, which wasn't exactly easy because of his change in weight. His struggling caused Bruce to let out a tired laugh. "Tony, what are you doing?"

"You got me off earlier," the omega explained. "It's only fair that I do the same."

That made Bruce's demeanor shift very quickly. His smile fell. "You know you don't have to, if you don't want to."

The omega stared up at him through his lashes, propping his cheek on his hand. "I know."

Bruce nevertheless elaborated further. "You never have to do something for me if you don't want to, Tony. I don't – I don't ever want to make you feel that way."

"I know," Tony reiterated. "But I want to, if you do."

The mood had abruptly changed enough, it could honestly go either way and he wouldn't mind. It was all Bruce's choice.

His husband seemed to weigh his options, then made his decision. "I want to," he said. Quietly, but with no doubt of his consent.

Tony beamed. "I'm going to make you feel loved, 'make you feel cherished."

Bruce snorted. "Believe me, you already do that."

The omega took him into his mouth, using his tongue for all the right moves like Bruce had with his hand earlier. Despite his consent, the alpha was hesitant about giving in to his pleasure completely at first. He'd been hesitant during their sex, too.

But as Tony worked him, he became more and more relaxed. He thrusted gently into his mouth, not hard enough to make Tony choke, yet enough to get what he wanted. His fingers threaded into Tony's hair, in that way that Tony loved when he was giving head. Besides knowing that he was pleasuring his alpha, giving him satisfaction and what he needed, it was honestly the best thing about it.

And Bruce said lowly to him sweet nothings, words of praise, his name. It was the latter that he repeated towards the end as he let go of Tony's hair to cup his face in his hands, as his knot was swelling again: "Tony...Tony..."

Without needing any further words, Tony knew what he was trying to say. Before, there had never been a problem with him staying on Bruce's knot during oral. Now, though, while Bruce wasn't concerned about having a panic attack or anything like that, he wasn't willing to take the risk, either.

Popping his mouth off, Tony sat up. He jerked Bruce off the rest of the way, a feral grin spreading across his lips when the cum spurted out onto his hands. Keeping his eyes locked with Bruce's, he lifted his hand up to his mouth and lapped up the liquid.

Bruce's eyes darkened upon the sight. "Why, you – "

They didn't actually have another round of sex after that, just a heavy making-out session that was interrupted by Tony's need to pee and their mutual exhaustion from the day. He went to the bathroom, and when he came back into bed, they went straight to cuddling, ready for sleep. JARVIS turned out the lights for them.

"Thank you," Bruce told him hoarsely. "For everything that you do."

Tony snuggled against him sleepily. "'Same goes for you, Alpha."

In November and December, there were some more changes for the family.

Ever since the press had connected the dots that the timing of his pregnancy meant that Bruce could not be the biological sire, there'd been a lot of backlash. There had been outright theorizing that Tony had been raped in Afghanistan, and even after that theory had been denied with a public statement, there was still a lot of racism and sexism galore. Some of the tabloids were putting out articles that Bruce was planning on divorcing him and taking custody of all of the kids, again even after they'd squashed those rumors as well for once (part of being famous was deciding which rumors to let go and which ones to address, after all), that Tony was planning on divorcing him, that Tony was lying about the due date to hide his affair with Iron Man (ha, ha, ha), and etcetera.

Granted, not all of the tabloids were that way. Tony had had JARVIS save to his hard drive quite a few articles praising Bruce for remaining with Tony and wanting to raise their youngest together in spite of how she'd been conceived (all they'd said to the public was that it had not been rape, nothing more), how utterly devoted of a spouse and father he was, and more. One of the articles, which Tony had laughed and laughed at, had even been titled Omegas' Pick for the 2008 Sexiest Alpha Alive: Bruce Wayne! The writers had apparently been very offended he hadn't won the title, regardless of how he hadn't even been a contender for it. Bruce didn't care enough about things like that to waste money on them.

Still, they needed a distraction. Something that would take away from all of the articles about his baby when she hadn't yet been born, and the continuing and growing insistence that he was, in fact, Iron Man. Not everyone believed it, as shown by the rumors that he was cheating on Bruce with himself, but it was becoming a headache that he didn't want to deal with.

His solution was something that he had been thinking about while he'd thought he'd been close to dying, just a little bit. It was unorthodox, yet that was the reason why he knew that it would work. He just had to get Pepper on the same page first.

"You want me to what?" she screeched when he told her the news, practically shattering his eardrums.

Tony winced from the loud noise, not because he wasn't going to stand his ground. He would. "I want you to run the company."

"Are you insane?" she demanded, placing a hand on her hip. "Have you finally lost it?"

"...I don't think so?" he said. He wondered why this was the breaking point for her and not, y'know, everything that had come before it. Whatever. "You've told me before how you've basically been running the company for all these years."

She spluttered. "As a joke!"

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, sure. But jokes just don't come from anywhere. You're right, you have been running the company, or at least helping me run it. I think you can physically do it, too. You can be the CEO. And...I was thinking back when I was dying that you would be the good choice for who would come after me, until either Harley or Peter are old enough. I didn't say it to anybody else, not even Bruce. Didn't want to scare anybody. But, now that I'm not dying, I've been thinking...maybe I still don't want to carry on the torch until one of them is old enough. Maybe it's not the best thing for me or the company."

Bruce didn't run his company either, after all. He had Lucius do that for him. Maybe it was time that Tony also did that.

"Then choose somebody else!" Pepper cried.

"Who?" Tony asked softly. "Who else would I choose? You know I don't trust easily, Pepper: Obadiah showed me why I shouldn't. The only person that I trust to do this is you. I know you won't fuck it up."

Pepper stared at him. He watched as her shock turned into something else. "You do?"

"Yep," he said. "And I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. I mean, I will if you absolutely don't want to, but – " he cut off, sighing amusedly. "Oh, who am I kidding? You're going to want this. You deserve it, and just like how I'm Tony fucking Stark, you're Pepper fucking Potts. The business world has thought that I'm bad enough ever since Howard died and I became CEO, but you're going to prove them wrong."

"Tony..."

He didn't let her try to finish whatever was the next denial that she was going to say. Going over to his desk in his office in Stark Industries, he opened the door to the mini-fridge underneath it. "I've got some non-alcoholic champagne here to celebrate. Let me get some glasses, and then you can relish in this soon-to-be-yours office."

They worked out the kinks of her taking over before they announced it. Her first official day as CEO wouldn't be until the new year, to help her get cemented in the role. Tony was going to become the co-head of the R&D Department: his hours would be very flexible, to let him spend time with the kids and do whatever, but he'd still have things to do with and for his company.

And his plan to use this as a distraction for the press worked. They lost their minds when it was announced, allowing him to have a much better maternity leave than he would've otherwise when he started it in December. He was still there for Pepper in her acting role as CEO as much as she needed him to be, but he was allowed to kick back and relax, which was a good thing.

On December 23rd, a full month earlier than for a typical, human pregnancy, his and Bruce's youngest daughter was born at full-term. She came after only six – six! – hours of labor. The birth was attended by a midwife that was technically a SHIELD agent: she knew that the baby had some non-extraterrestrial origins, but she reassured him that she wouldn't tell anybody about that and even if she did, SHIELD would make sure that she paid for it severely. She said it so nonchalantly, like Natasha had, that it had struck him with a sense of fear. Just how powerful was this alphabet-soup organization?

But anyways, Dr. Maxwell and Dr. Thompkins, though the latter was still in Malibu, both were on-call for the birth in case their help was needed. Tony was technically having an MBAC, or Median Birth After Caesarian, and that could be dangerous. The danger was only amplified when he was having a home birth, like Dick had had. In his case, though, the only other alternative he'd had was to give birth in a SHIELD facility, in the event that the baby came out with powers. Anahita had told him that that wouldn't happen, yet he'd still wanted to err on the side of caution. And there was no way that he would've given birth in a SHIELD facility. Not in hell.

Tony ended up liking the midwife. She was patient throughout the entire process, more feeling in her actions and temperament than any doctor had been with him before, even Dr. Maxwell. Nor did she question his knowledge and expertise after he'd done this so many times before like even perhaps Dr. Maxwell or Dr. Thompkins, albeit unintentionally, would've.

But the greatest part about her care was how she let Bruce be the one to catch the baby when Tony pushed her out. They'd talked about it before, as she'd asked if it was something that they would want. "I don't think that there needs to be some metaphysical or biological attachment to bond with a child," she'd explained. "But, if this is what you two want to do, I do think that it would be a good way for you, Mr. Wayne, to be more involved than you may feel you have been and would be."

Tony and Bruce had shared a glance. His alpha had squeezed his hand, then looked back at the midwife. "Yes, that's something we want to do," he'd said.

There were no words to describe the look on Bruce's face when Tony did his last push and she came all of the way out. As she already started to cry, he looked up at Tony in awe, adoration, joy, pure love, and so much more. But those words all fell short in incapsulating his expression properly. His eyes were bright with tears, like this was Mari's birth all over again.

"She's perfect," he unknowingly (to himself, Tony would remind him of it later) repeated.

Tony was too tired to make grabby motions with his arms. Like Dick, he'd been up for most of the night delivering. It was only four-something in the morning. "Give – give her to me."

Bruce got up as easily as he could from a slightly crouched position with a literal newborn baby in his arms and brought her over to Tony. He smiled weepingly as he held her in his arms: she looked a lot like Anahita. Some of her facial features were his, as was the slight curl to her black hair, but everything else definitely came from the Iranian goddess'. This included the color of her skin, which was surprisingly darker than her themither's. Tony didn't care. Genetics could be like that.

The kids, Dick and Jason included, weren't allowed into the room until later that morning, after breakfast. When they were, there was only one question on their minds:

"What's her name?" Peter cried. He was the one he would take the most shining to their youngest sister out of all of them.

"Her name is Kamala Aredvi Khan Stark," Tony told him and the others.

Peter's mouth formed a small "o." "That's so pretty!"

"It is, isn't it?"

Aredvi and Khan were to honor Anahita, as well as give Kamala her biological sire's "surname" so there would be less questions about it in the media. Kamala came from a word that was present in many of the Indo-Iranian languages in various forms with different pronunciations: in Persian, کامل could mean "perfect," although he knew in some other languages the word could mean "wonder" or "marvel." Which had been fine with him and Bruce.

Kamala was perfect, and she was a wonder and a marvel. Nobody would ever be able to make him not think that.

Christmas came two days after Kamala's birth, and like almost every other Christmas since he and Bruce had gotten married, it was filled with fun, joy, and good cheer. So were the days after that.

...But then, this brought him in to having to explain why the beginning of the next year was not so good.

On the 9th of January, a letter came in the mail for Bruce.

They were both at home and in the living room when it came. Jason, Lili, Harley, and Peter were all at school when it did, so they were fortunate enough in that regard. Bea, Edward, and Gemma were all down for a nap, and so were Dick and Mari in his bedroom – he'd decided during his pregnancy that he'd be more comfortable with her crib being in his room. Tony was nursing Kamala, but she was still a newborn. It was different with her.

"Boss, Master Wayne," JARVIS said. "The mail has arrived. There is an envelope that, based on my scans, I believe is of most importance for you to see."

Bruce immediately stiffened. Tony wasn't much better. They both knew what the letter had to be, who it had to be from for JARVIS to remark on it.

"Do you want me to – ?" Tony started to ask.

"No," Bruce said gruffly. "I've got it."

He walked out the door like a dead man walking.

Bruce apparently decided to walk all of the way to their mailbox, too, so it was about ten minutes until he came back into the house. Tony spent that time keeping his nerves cool, because if he got too upset, then he wouldn't be able to nurse Kamala anymore and he didn't want to get a bottle of formula ready when he knew she wouldn't drink all of it based off of how much she'd consumed already.

When his husband came back, some of the falling snow outside stuck in his hair, his face was grim. The envelope that JARVIS had told them about was in one hand, the rest of the mail in the other.

"Let me finish nursing Kamala and put her down," Tony requested, before Bruce could say anything. "Then...we can open it."

Bruce was more than happy to oblige him, if only to put off the inevitable a little longer. Once Kamala had finished eating and he'd burped her and put her in the baby bouncer next to the couch (he didn't feel like putting in the effort to take her upstairs and to her room), he sat down next to Bruce, who was fiddling with one of the corners of the envelope. It was an action most unlike him.

"You don't have to open it, if you don't want to," Tony whispered. "I can – "

The alpha denied him once more, shaking his head. He inhaled deeply, then said, "I can do this."

But his actual meaning was clear: "I have to do this myself."

Tony waited.

Bruce carefully, painstakingly opened the envelope so that the tearing of its flap was as even as possible. He took out its contents, which amounted to three things: two of them were photos, the other...a letter.

Both of the photos were of an infant: the first of them by themself, the other of them and...Talia. Bruce was barely able to look at the latter before he looked like he was going to be sick, so Tony took it from him. He barely looked at it himself, only enough to see what the woman who had raped his husband looked like.

She was clearly from the Middle East, with perfectly arched eyebrows, a unique nose, and eyes that were a startling shade of green. Her hair was short, about shoulder-length, and it looked like it had been straightened from a naturally curly form; there were also two silver streaks running through her hair, the exact shade as Bruce's. She was smiling at the camera coyly, but it was not a smile that reached her eyes. As if her sending a picture of herself wasn't bad enough on its own.

Tony abruptly had the desire to tear the photo to shreds.

He didn't.

Barely.

The baby in the pictures...they looked a lot like Bruce. The only differences were their skin color, hair color, and eyes. Their eyes were the same color as Talia's. A side effect of the Lazarus Pits, Bruce had said, after what he assumed were multiple dips into it, presumably genetic.

Tony's gut twisted. He knew what the baby, the innocent baby, was going to go through. It was a life that they didn't deserve. They deserved to be here with them, a family that would love them and cherish them with no strings attached, not being raised as a child soldier.

Setting the picture of Talia and the baby face-down on the coffee table, he looked over at Bruce, who was already reading the letter. He felt his face scrunch up with worry. "What...what does it say?"

He didn't get an immediate response.

"Bruce?"

Before he could begin to get really scared at Bruce's silence, his blank expression, the way his eyes were watering, his husband blinked and let out a wry chortle. "It's a boy," he said. "That's the important part. His name is Damian Hafid al Ghul Wayne. He was born on December 29th. Eight pounds, one ounce. Twenty inches long. I guess I was wrong about when her due date was. She says he was full-term."

That was all important, don't get Tony wrong. He knew that it was.

He also knew that it was not what was upsetting Bruce the most.

"What else did she say?" he pressed.

Wordlessly, Bruce held the letter out to him.

Tony took it with slightly trembling hands, then read through it carefully. He wouldn't – he couldn't – repeat all of its contents. A lot of it would simply be too enraging for him to.

The part that stuck out to him the most and had him seething was Talia's comment about how she would ensure that Damian would be raised "well." As Bruce had told him and he had just said, but he would reiterate once more, he knewwhat that meant.

"That – that – " he hissed, struggling for the proper words. He knew what he wanted to say: he was so angry, he was having a hard time getting them out.

All things considered, it was good that he was.

"Daddy? Omi?" the voice of Bea suddenly asked. "What's wrong?"

Tony's head snapped up. Their now five-year-old daughter was standing in the main archway to the living room, rubbing at her eyes. She, clearly, had woken up earlier from her nap than usual. And it was Taryn's day off and Alfred was currently tending to the downstairs, so there had been no one to lead her away from the living room, to tell her that now wasn't a good time to intrude on her parents because they were having an adult conversation.

Instantly, Tony folded the letter and shoved it back into the envelope, along with the two photos. Bruce made a noise of protest, though he said nothing more. "Nothing, little Miss," Tony said. "But what are you doing up?"

Bea gave a little shrug. "'Woke up early," she said as she came over to them, climbing up on the couch, apparently in want of cuddles.

Tony and Bruce...hadn't told the kids about Talia – and now, Damian – yet. They knew it wasn't wise for them not to, but they were still trying to process it all themselves. And this letter and the photos...

He didn't need Bruce to tell him to know that it had set that processing time back. The time until he would be ready to discuss how to break the news to their kids back.

On its own, maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing. A little more time before they would tell the kids about their half-sibling was not necessarily a bad thing: it wasn't like the situation was likely to change anytime soon.

But then...

A week after the letter from Talia had arrived, Tony had to have a phone call meeting with the Board. He was technically on maternity leave until March, after which he would only "work" in his new role for two weeks before he would have his surgery to remove the arc reactor. The transference of the CEO title from him to Pepper, however, was set to happen at the end of January.

The Board did not mind that she was going to be their new, official boss/leader. If anything, Tony thought that they were happy to see him go after the craziness of the past year, Stane's death, and how he operated as CEO before that. He'd always known that they didn't like an omega being in charge of them. Of course, Pepper was a beta, which might've not been all that much better to them, but she was much more predictable than he was.

And even if they had minded, it wasn't like they could do anything. It was his right to declare his successor, and it was one that they couldn't deny.

While the Board did not mind, though, that could not be said for the media. His distraction had come with its own bigoted follow-ups, with people saying that Pepper wouldn't be a good CEO because she was a beta, a mother, and previously a model before Howard had hired her for that one summer, because she didn't have the history or experience for it – you name it, they said it.

So, the Board wanted Tony to make one last statement as CEO before he stepped down, to give Pepper his full-blessing so that the stock wouldn't crash again, and yada, yada, yada. You know the drill.

Which Tony did, on January 30th. He'd prepared some cards containing his statement, and he flipped through them as he stood in the ready room for the press conference room, making sure that he knew what to say. For some reason, he felt more jittery than he should've.

(Like something was about to go wrong.)

Rhodey, who was there to support both him (Bruce had been called last-minute in for a meeting at his own company, the bastards) and Pepper, who would be giving a speech after him, noticed his antsy demeanor. "Tones? Everything alright?"

Tony gave him a lackluster smile. "Just making sure that I'm ready," he partially lied through his teeth.

The beta man's eyes narrowed. "You sure?"

"Yep."

Everything's going to be fine, he told himself. All he had to do was follow his cards, give his statement. The press had already been told he wasn't going to answer any questions: that was Pepper's job now.

Once they were ready, he walked out of the ready room and onto the stage. He stared out at all of the journalists and reporters that were there in the room: it was absolutely packed. Standing front and center, he saw right away, was Christine Everhart, formerly of Brown University and Vanity Fair, now of MSNBC. The "spread" she had done of Justin Hammer this past summer had elevated her to a higher status in the journalist world after he'd been arrested, as she had revealed all of the non-Vanko-related sordid details about his life. It was a promotion that Tony could agree she deserved: he had read the article himself.

But he did not like seeing her again. She didn't seem to like seeing him, either. Undoubtedly because he had never given her that interview that he had promised: she'd had to make do with Pepper's, and though the article was good, he knew it was nothing close to what she had wanted from him.

Oh, well. Tony wasn't going to think about that.

"Thank you all for coming today. It's been a while since I was in front of you, hasn't it? Ah, well, you all know how that goes with me," he joked. He heard some laughter: so his attempt at humor had gone over well. That was good. "I know that myself and my company have been talked about a lot in the media over the past year. I don't want to get into it too much: that's not why we're here today. We're here because, as has been previously announced, and as of tomorrow, I will no longer be the CEO of Stark Industries. Vera Potts will be taking my place.

"I know this decision has come as a shock to many, but it is one that I have been thinking about for some time. When I was being held captive by the Ten Rings last year, I had a lot of time to think about things, and – "

"I'm sorry, Dr. Stark, but do you honestly expect us to believe that?"

Tony blinked.

. . .

. . .

...What?

Christine Everhart was gazing up at him, a frown set into her features. She was the one who had interrupted him. His hatred for being interrupted was one that was not only privately-known, as it was public knowledge too, and she had done it anyways.

Her doing so caught him so off-guard, too, all he could get himself to say was, "Excuse me?"

"You were going to say that you are resigning because of your family, I presume?" she returned. The other occupants of the room were deadly silent after she spoke. Like before when he and Bruce had been walking out of the Apogee Awards, it was like they couldn't believe she had the audacity to do this, that he was allowing it. That was fair. He couldn't, either. "But if that's the case, why now? Why not before, after the birth of your twins?"

Tony steered himself to a proper response. It wasn't easy to do. "You all were briefed that I would not be taking questions at this press conference, Ms. Everhart."

"You haven't given us any other opportunity to ask you the questions that need to be answered," she retorted coolly. Damn, she was doubling-down. She was definitely going to be fired from MSNBC after this, and she didn't seem to care. "Ever since the fight between Iron Man and the Iron Monger last May in Brooklyn, there has been speculation that you are Iron Man."

"Speculation that is not true," he interjected. "I am not."

"But with the identities of Iron Man and War Machine being classified, we have no other way to know this, do we? And Iron Man has not been seen for some time now, not like War Machine." With SHIELD acting as a third party for negotiation, Tony had been able to work out a deal with the military for Rhodey to use the suit. The higher-ups of the Pentagon hadn't been surprised as they should've at him being War Machine, but they'd agreed to keep his identity a secret, that he wouldn't be prosecuted for acting as a combatant outside of military capacity, and the suit could only be used with Tony's consent. It was a win-win situation all around. "Coincidentally, we haven't seen him since August 2nd, two weeks before your pregnancy was revealed."

"That is not a coincidence," Tony said, scowling. "As we have said before, it is Iron Man's choice for when he wants to wear the suit again, and he has decided not to so far. I know that might seem too convenient for you. But it is one thing to question my decision for stepping down as CEO, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a superhero."

Everhart smirked coyly. "I never said that you were a superhero?"

"You didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and fantastic," he spat. "Clearly, I'm not the type. I'm an omither, and I would never do something so reckless while pregnant."

That's a lie.

He was getting flustered.

Too flustered.

Everhart had been able to rile him up too easily.

Tony looked down at his cards to get himself back on track. Then, he glanced over at the open doorway to the ready room, where Rhodey and Pepper were watching him. "Just stick to the cards, man!" Rhodey mouthed.

As for Pepper...

She was shaking her head, making it obvious what she didn't want him to do. Her eyes told a different story: she knew what he was going to do. She'd worked for him too long not to. She was one of the few people in the world who knew him better than he knew himself.

That other story also told him that she thought it was okay. There was no blame in her opinion. She wasn't going to fault him.

His own eyes flicked back down to the cards. "The truth is," he urged himself to say. "The truth is..."

He knew what he needed to say: for the safety of himself, his children, Bruce, and their family. He knew what was the right thing to say. SHIELD had been right about wanting to keep his identity a secret, even going so far as to make it classified material: the public wasn't ready for a "superhero." Furthermore, Bruce would most assuredly kill him if he said anything else.

What he needed to say wasn't what came out of his mouth, however.

"The truth is, I am Iron Man," Tony said. At once, the reporters and journalists broke out into an uproar. They were shouting out their questions, demanding them. Into the microphone, he said over them, "And as I said, I will not be taking any questions at this time. Thank you."

He left the stage before he could make things any worse.

Word Count: 7,344

Total Word Count: 108,983

Companion Pieces: like omither, like son; pump it; the devil's daughter

Sequel Title(s): my favorite things (immediate one-shot sequel); break the rules (next multi-chap sequel)