Today marked their last day at the Malibu mansion. Tony's eyes lingered on every corner of his home, a silent farewell to the memories woven into its walls. His mansion used to be so bare before but now since Peter came under his wing, it brimmed with life and warmth.
He walked into the living room, where Peter's favourite toys were still laid out like a playground. Assorted board games and Lego sets were still on the table, and stuffed toys decked the couch.
"Ow. Ow. Ow... Arghh.. God! Shit." Tony whimpered in pain as he once again stepped on a Lego scattered around the floor. Stepping on Legos had plagued him ever since Peter had come under his care. The kid loved these tiny little pieces of death, and Tony had no choice but to concur.
"Peter!" He called out, "Your little death traps are still scattered here in the living room. Let's pack these up. Come on."
Within moments, Peter descended from upstairs.
"He— Hey, Hey, buddy. Don't run at the stairs," Tony sighed, observing as Peter sprinted towards him, "Okay. What did we talk about the Legos?"
Peter cheekily mumbled, "Oops."
Tony picked up an empty box and approached Peter, "Uh uh, not Oops."
"Pick up and clean up the toys after playing," Peter said, prompting a raised brow from Tony as he surveyed the mess of toys.
"Sorry, Dad," Peter mumbled, sheepishly smiling as he began picking up all his toys and placing them in the box.
Tony smiled and brushed Peter's hair. "Good kid, don't forget next time."
While Peter's forgetfulness regarding his toys persists, it doesn't deter the responsible kid from diligently handling his kiddie chores. From setting and cleaning the table to making his bed, picking up toys, and putting dirty clothes in the hamper, he demonstrates admirable commitment to his responsibilities.
Tony walked towards the kitchen and Peter's early drawings, from when he was four years old, were posted on the refrigerator held by magnets. Baby pictures of Peter, the first pictures of them together smiling happily, Peter's first perfect quiz, and his first Valentine's letter to Tony saying "I love you, Dad" in big letters decorated the space.
Tony smiled at all the happy memories posted there. He picked up Peter's baby picture from when he was just one year old. Sometimes, he wished he could have been there to see Peter when he was still a baby, to witness him start to crawl and walk, hear his first words, see his first smile, and experience his first laugh.
Tony started putting up all the stuff in a small box. All their personal important items were going to the Penthouse. In a week, after their trip abroad, they were going to stay in New York for good.
As he was about to place the box at the front door, he noticed the wall near the stairs where they used to track Peter's height every year on his birthday from when he was four years old. He looked at Peter now and smiled, realizing how fast a child grows.
"Tony Stark is many things, nostalgic is now one of them," Pepper uttered, hugging him from the side.
Tony laughed a little, "I am now, haven't I?"
Pepper laughed while Tony kissed her cheek, then they started helping the little boy pack up his stuff.
The scorching heat of the tropical sun in Bangkok welcomed Tony and Pepper as they embarked on their first day of business. They had multiple meetings scheduled with their subsidiary company, responsible for handling StarkTech in Thailand in preparation for the imminent release of the StarkPhone across the country and throughout Asia.
With two weeks remaining before Peter's first day of school, they decided to bring the young kid along and turn the trip into a mini-vacation after attending to their business agendas.
Tony, who was relaxing on the couch in their hotel room after a day of meetings, massaged his temples.
"Dad, when are we going out? It's boring in here," Peter scowled as he climbed onto his father's lap, resting his head on Dad's chest and wrapping his arms around him.
"Have you not had any fun with Happy?"
"Happy's rarely fun. He's the opposite of happy. He's Grumpy, Dad."
Tony laughed at the sentiment and brushed Peter's hair, "Silly boy. Did you talk to Ned earlier over the phone?"
"We had a video call. He's now in Paris with his Parents still on their European Tour. He said hi to you. We agreed to just meet on the first day of class."
"That's nice. Okay, we have one last meeting tomorrow morning, and then in the afternoon we're going to see the elephants at the Elephant Jungle Sanctuary, sounds good? I know you like that."
Peter looked up, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Really? Yay! Thanks, Dad!" He hugged his dad, who kissed his head.
"Anything for you, kid."
They arrived at the Elephant Jungle Sanctuary that afternoon. They chose to visit the sanctuary instead, rather than including activities involving elephants used for comedic and entertainment purposes. The Elephant Jungle Sanctuary is an ethical and sustainable ecotourism project across Thailand, dedicated to the well-being of Thai elephants. There's no elephant riding, no hooking, and no circus tricks. Elephants are either retired from performances or rescued from cruel owners.
Welcomed by the tribe, they adorned themselves in traditional and colourful Karon costumes.
Peter's eyes widened with glee as a baby elephant approached him. They were provided with bushes, fruit, and twigs to feed the gentle giants. Random elephants joined them, and they happily fed them, their eyes gleaming with joy throughout the new experience.
They all proceeded to the mud bath with the elephants, and Pepper couldn't contain her laughter at the sight of Tony, who used to be a germaphobe. He would avoid handshakes with strangers and always had Purell on hand.
"Oh my God, Tony!" Pepper laughed heartily as she witnessed Tony getting sprinkled with mud by one of the elephants, leaving him fully bathed in it.
Peter also joined in, laughing at his father. In the end, Tony laughed along with them, thoroughly enjoying the wonderful time.
The night after, Peter was flipping through channels in their hotel room when he noticed something strange. "Dad, look!" he exclaimed, prompting Tony to quickly emerge from the bathroom, still holding his toothbrush in his mouth.
"What? What's going on? Are you okay?" Tony asked in an incomprehensible tone. Peter laughed upon seeing his dad, and when Tony realized everything was fine, he returned to the sink to spit out and gargle. He then rejoined his son.
"Look, Dad. What's that?" Peter pointed at the TV screen, and together they watched footage of a green-skinned, giant, and muscular monster engaged in a fierce battle with another creature with an even uglier appearance. The headline referred to it as the "Harlem Terror."
"That's—Wow. That's a green rage monster," Tony said, his eyes widening as he comprehended what was happening. The footage replayed, and the green monster emerged victorious, roaring angrily.
"Good thing we're not in New York," Tony added.
"They're calling it the Hulk."
"Well, the shoe fits. It looks like his anger can't be contained." Tony turned off the TV and went to bed.
Peter hugged his dad's chest. "Looks like he's fighting the bad guy."
"If that's true, then that's good. If not..."
He looked up to see his father. "Then what?"
"Then I'll have to stop him."
He slumped back and rested his head on Dad's arm, hugging him, and closing his eyes, "I hope that never happens."
"I hope so too, kid." Tony kissed Peter's forehead before they snoozed off to sleep.
On their third day, they visited Bali for a day tour, exploring attractions such as Uluwatu Temple and the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary.
The sights proved majestic, but the intense heat of the sun made the trip less comfortable. Walking along the Monkey Forest, surrounded by trees and inhabited by approximately 700 monkeys, they experienced the captivating environment.
"Dad!" Peter shrieked as a monkey approached him, panic evident on his face.
Tony turned to find his son a little farther away. Although Peter adored giant, gentle species, he harboured a fear of smaller creatures like monkeys, spiders, and insects.
"Relax, Pete. Don't move," Tony instructed, walking closer to his son and immediately picking him up.
Peter hugged him tightly, unwilling to let go.
"It's okay now, bud. I'm here," Tony reassured, noticing Peter still looked scared.
"You didn't say you don't like monkeys."
"I thought I liked them until they stared at me like they're going to eat me."
Tony laughed. "They're not. Look... They don't harm humans unless they feel threatened."
Despite Tony's reassurance, Peter clung to him, uncomfortable with the numerous insects in the area.
"Tony, maybe we should go now," Pepper suggested, checking on Peter. "You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, rubbing his back.
"It's itchy." Peter scratched his arms, and concern filled their faces as they noticed red mosquito bites on his arms and legs. Red patches were also forming on his neck due to the heat and humidity.
"Damn it. Let's get out of here." They hurriedly returned to the car, went back to the hotel, and gave Peter a bath with some ointment for the bites.
Tony appeared calm, but he was terrified by the incident. It's his first time seeing patches and bites on Peter. Their homes were typically insect-free, and Peter's school rarely posed such issues.
Tony's mind raced with worries about potential diseases, prompting him to request the jet, and the next morning, they flew back to New York.
"Is he going to be okay?" Tony asked as he gently brushed his son's hair, looking at him while he slept on his chest.
"He's okay, Tony. The bite marks have already faded, and his temperature is normal," Pepper reassured him, clasping his hand and trying to comfort him. "Hey, it's going to be okay."
The sound of the phone ringing interrupted her, and she looked up at her phone, but there was no one calling, "It's not mine."
She glanced over at Tony's phone in the corner and raised a brow, signalling him to pick it up, but he showed no interest.
"Answer it. I've got a kid."
She glared at him but then smiled when she saw the caller ID, "Oh, it's Phil."
Tony's forehead creased, "Who's Phil?"
Pepper answered the call, and Tony looked over at her, frowning. "We're still on the jet, on the way to New York. Okay, Tony will meet you there. Bye." She hung up.
"It's Agent Coulson. He'll meet you tomorrow when we land."
He gave her a scrutinizing look. "Since when is he Phil?"
She chuckled, "It's about Harlem."
His expression dulled, "Hey, I thought I'm off with their Avengers Initiative."
"He never said it's about the Avengers Initiative. Maybe they just need you."
"They can't afford me."
"Oh no, they can't." She smiled knowingly.
She knew how stubborn Tony could be, but when it came to doing good for others, he would never hesitate.
Ever since the kidnapping, a lot of things have changed. Tony might be arrogant, but he's never self-centred. He would always do what is right, he would save people, and especially his loved ones, no matter how impossible it might be. She knows this, and Peter knows this.
Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark is not the selfish and egotistical person many thought him to be. He might not be your typical self-sacrificing hero, but he can be the hero that everyone needs.
Tony turned his chair towards Agent Coulson in his office at the Penthouse.
"We need you, Mr. Stark. The council wants Blonsky to be released and added to the Avengers Initiative. They see him as a war hero. We can't let that happen. We need you to convince General Ross to refuse to release the Abomination into our custody."
Tony read the report laid out on his screens moments, raising a brow, "And why me?"
"Your skill set is specifically what's needed for this to be a success."
Phil knew how Tony Stark was well known for his disdain for authority and how successfully he managed to offend and annoy anyone who wanted to undermine him.
"Well, I thought I'm not part of the initiative."
"You're not. You're our Consultant."
His expression hardened. He was still hung up on not being part of the Avengers. He continued to read the file on Bruce Banner and was amazed. The amount of gamma exposure should've killed him. And the Abomination is clearly a devilish, out-of-control monster. More than he'd like to admit, Coulson is right. The Abomination shouldn't be a part of the initiative.
"Okay, but I'm gonna need you to babysit for a while."
"No problem."
"To be honest, I enjoyed today. It felt more like a day-cation. I haven't had one in over a year," Phil said as he took a spoonful of ice cream, looking out over The Pond in Central Park, with a view of the trees and skyscrapers.
When he was asked to babysit, Phil envisioned movies or board games, much like what Natasha usually did. However, he hadn't expected to be strolling around the park, enjoying the sights. Earlier, Peter had biked, and they even visited the park zoo. It was a gorgeous afternoon, the skies blue, temperature just right as summer was drawing to a close.
"Why? Don't you take a leave?" Peter asked, sitting beside him on a bench as families and couples strolled around, most of them being kids and tourists.
"We're pretty much preoccupied with missions. Doesn't really leave much time for that."
"Where would you like to go if you had the time?"
"Relax at the beach. Maybe Tahiti."
"It's a paradise there. We have a villa in Tahiti. Just let us know. Dad will fly you out there."
Phil glanced over at Peter and smiled. What a thoughtful kid. Natasha had often praised Stark's child, and he knew this even before his Tony Stark's revelation as Iron Man.
He noticed some people taking side glances at them, probably realizing that the kid was Peter Stark.
Moments later, they spotted Tony's figure in a suit, and Peter stood up, running directly to his father.
Tony grinned, opened his arms, and lifted his son.
Phil attentively noted the subtle shift in The Consultant's expression when Tony's eyes landed on his son, a reserved softness that seemed to be shown exclusively for Peter.
He approached them with a smile. "Looks like the plan worked, Mr. Stark."
Tony smirked, "Surely did, Agent Coulson. I annoyed the hell out of Ross, although had to buy the bar. Blonsky will remain in his cage."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. We owe you."
"No, that's okay. I guess I'm already paid by Natasha for her babysitting. Thank you for keeping an eye on my son again."
"Always a pleasure. I have to go now."
They exchanged a firm handshake, sealing their agreement with mutual respect.
"Bye, Agent Coulson." Peter gave Phil a quick hug.
"I'll see you soon, Peter. I had fun. Thank you."
He glanced at Tony, "Mr. Stark." and walked to the waiting car.
Tony began updating the Mark VI the next day in his lab at the Penthouse. The size of the lab remained consistent with the one he had in Malibu, though it seemed slightly larger now without the presence of parked cars.
Working on enhancing the water and electricity resistance of the suit, along with fine-tuning the Unibeam of the arc reactor, Tony noticed an unusual quietness in the lab.
Puzzled by the silence, he remarked to himself, "That's odd. Peter's usually perky and excited about my new tech."
Casting a worried look, he spotted his son on the couch not facing him, and with concern edging his voice, he asked, "You alright in there, Pete?"
While projecting blue holograms and anticipating a response, Tony was surprised by the absence of any reply.
Curiosity led him to stand up and approach Peter. "Hey, buddy. Are you okay?"
"Dad, why is it so cold in here?" Peter asked, his brows furrowing. Tony, however, noted that the room was at its normal temperature.
Peter sat up from the couch and added, "I feel weird, Dad."
Tony felt his son's neck and forehead, realizing they were unusually warm.
Alarmed, he instructed, "Jarvis, read Peter's vitals."
"Temperature at 39 degrees Celsius, Sir. It appears Peter has a fever," JARVIS promptly reported.
"Come on, bud," Tony carried his son out of the lab to his room and laid him on the bed.
He gently caressed his hair, looking at him with concern, "Why didn't you tell Dad you're not feeling well, Pete?"
Peter simply closed his eyes and started pulling the comforter over himself.
Tony kissed his forehead before heading out to cook a porridge soup. It wasn't the first time he had to take care of Peter when he had a fever. He knew what to do already, but he couldn't help feeling anxious about Peter suddenly falling ill. Why now? They had been at the lab all day, and he seemed fine.
Perhaps he should've started paying more attention. Tony couldn't help but blame himself again.
When Peter first had a fever a few years ago, Tony didn't know what to do. Pepper and Rhodes weren't even there to help him, so he had no choice but to ask JARVIS for the steps to take care of a sick child. The cooking lessons also proved helpful, as he could now cook porridge without it tasting like garbage.
"Peter, baby, you need to eat before you take some medicine," Tony gently assisted Peter's head as he sat up, leaning it against the headboard.
"I don't want to. I want to sleep, Dad. My head hurts," Peter grimaced as if he were about to cry.
"I know, Pete. But you need to drink your medicine so your head won't hurt anymore, please?" Tony kissed his son's temples, then started feeding Peter small bites of porridge. He drank the medicine syrup afterward.
Tony lay beside Peter, curled up in the cold, securing the comforter to keep him warm. He hugged his son, caressing his hair as he monitored the fever to go down.
After an hour, he noticed Peter starting to sweat, so he immediately changed his clothes. Tony felt Peter burning hot again two hours later, and he vomited all he ate, including the medicine. Fortunately, Tony managed to pull the basin near him before Peter could vomit onto the sheets.
Peter continued to shiver while Dad carried him. He felt as if his eyes were burning, and his head seemed on the verge of splitting open. Every movement felt like he was being crushed with pain—something unlike anything he had ever experienced.
"Dad, it hurts," tears already forming in his eyes. "Dad, please. It hurts all over."
"Jarvis, temperature?"
"40 degrees Celsius, Sir." That wasn't good. Fear slowly crept up on him. He stopped the panic from seeping in and tried to calm down. Remembering a method that had worked before. He lay Peter on the bed and immediately went to the bathroom to prepare warm water, soaking a face towel in it. Squeezing it, he placed it on Peter's forehead.
He then applied, soothing another warm towel to Peter's body, changing his clothes once again.
After another two hours, the temperature was down to 37.5, and Tony felt relieved as his son nodded off to sleep. He didn't notice that he had slipped into unconsciousness as well.
"Dad…" Tony was slowly awakened by the sound of Peter's low voice.
Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of Peter shivering more intensely, a delirious state consuming him. A sudden wave of terror gripped Tony as he checked Peter's eyes, now tinged with red. Instantly, his entire being snapped into alertness, his heart pounding nervously. Rashes were forming on Peter's arm, and his breathing became ragged. This couldn't be happening. Peter had seemed better a while ago, and Tony had tried everything that had worked before to break his fever. Why was it recurring?
"JARVIS?"
"40 degrees Celsius, Sir."
"Shit."
He had forgotten to remind JARVIS to wake him up if the temperature went higher, "Call 911."
He had no choice, he had to seek professional help now. All the symptoms pointed to something going horribly wrong. It was no longer just an ordinary fever.
"Emergency Services are on their way now, Sir."
Tony cradled Peter in his arms, covered in a blanket, as they waited.
"It's going to be alright, baby," Tony whispered to his son, planting a kiss on his son's head. Closing his eyes, he silently wished and prayed for everything to be alright.
Within five minutes, the ambulance arrived, and another five passed before they reached New York-Presbyterian Hospital.
Doctors and nurses rushed to them, and Tony watched as Peter whimpered in pain while the IV went through his veins. The nurses asked him to wait as the doctors continued to check.
There had been numerous times when Tony had feared for his son's life. However, seeing his son now scared him the most. Tony couldn't help but cover his mouth, closing his eyes, overwhelmed with fear for Peter's life.
"Mr. Stark?" A kind voice from a female doctor came to him an hour later. "I'm Doctor Palmer. I'm one of the doctors taking care of Peter Stark." Tony stood up, and they shook hands.
Doctor Christine Palmer was the Chief Resident Doctor of the ER that night, in her final year of residency at New York-Pres, and she had already been recruited by Metro-General for her fellowship next year.
The ER buzzed to life when the famous Starks rushed in via ambulance. Although her main specialization was in Neurosurgery, there was no Pediatrician on deck, and with training in Emergency Medicine, she had to step in immediately while they waited for the Pediatrician on call.
"How's my son?" Tony asked anxiously.
"We managed to bring his fever down now, but it already compromised his immune system. His symptoms all point to the flu, but we found antibodies linking this to a Dengue infection. Has your family been to a tropical country lately?"
The mosquito bites, goddammit.
Mentally noting never to fly Peter to a tropical country again, Tony replied, "We've been to Thailand."
"He has developed respiratory distress in his lungs, but we've helped him breathe better now. We're keeping the infection from spreading to the rest of his internal organs. Dengue fever symptoms usually occur four to seven days after exposure. It's good that you called and brought him here before the symptoms worsened. Without medical help, symptoms can be life-threatening. But you don't have to worry anymore. We'll monitor his temperature and prevent any further complications."
Tony felt his knees going weak. He brushed his hair and covered his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were lucky that Peter was rushed to the hospital before it was too late, but if not, his kid might be fighting for his life right now, and he couldn't bear that. He couldn't live with that. He couldn't live without his son.
Dr. Palmer tried to reassure him with a smile, "Your son's going to be alright now, Mr. Stark. We'll make sure of that. He's already in his room. I'll walk you in."