Peter's eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sterile expanse of white hospital walls. The smell of disinfectant lingered all over. Different fruits, flowers, and cards are placed on a table.
He then saw Dad sleeping beside him in a chair holding his hand. He gently brushed Dad's hair, his face looked ash-fallen, and he looked tired.
What happened? He can only remember the gruelling headache and pain all over his body, his memories are grogged out like a blur.
He noticed there was an oxygen nasal cannula helping him breathe and he removed it. Dad suddenly moved, waking up now.
"Daddy..." Peter tried to say happily but his voice came out hoarse.
Dad stood by his side, gently pressing a kiss onto his forehead, his expression filled with affection, "Thank god you're okay now, love."
Peter softly smiled, it's the first time Dad called him love, "You look tired, Dad. What happened?"
A laugh escaped Tony's lips, "You're the one lying in the hospital bed, yet you're still worrying about your Dad. You silly. You had a dengue infection from the mosquito bites in Thailand. Your fever always reoccurred for the past two days and you're always asleep. The infection is fully gone now since last night. You're okay now, baby."
Tony grinned, a tear escaping his eye, which he swiftly brushed away.
"Dad, I'm sorry…" He shouldn't have been sick so Dad wouldn't have to worry as much or feel exhausted from taking care of him.
"Hey, don't. Why are you even saying sorry, buddy? If there's anything, it's my fault, we shouldn't have been there, and I should've put an insect repellent lotion on you."
A light-hearted chuckle bubbled up from him, "We didn't know that's gonna happen, Dad. It's okay now."
Their foreheads touched and a shared smile lit up their faces.
As the door swung open, a chorus of "Happy Birthday" spilled into the room. It was the final week of August, and August 29th had arrived. Pepper entered, bearing a cake, accompanied by Ned and his parents, alongside Happy, nurses, Dr. Palmer, and several other doctors. They all wore smiles, carrying balloons and gifts in hand. Peter's eyes lit up as they approached him.
"Happy 8th Birthday, Peter," they exclaimed in unison. Each one had been deeply concerned for him, visiting daily and offering prayers for his recovery.
Dad beamed with joy, wrapping his arms around him, "Happy Birthday, my son."
Peter closed his eyes, silently making a wish before blowing out the candle. Pepper, Ned, and Happy joined in, enveloping him in a hug as they celebrated Peter's recovery for the rest of the day.
As Tony drove Peter to school, just a few blocks away from both the Tower and the Penthouse, he glanced over, "You nervous?"
Although they could easily walk, Tony couldn't risk them being disturbed by fans and paparazzi.
Peter looked up at him, his expression betraying a hint of amusement. "Slight," he replied, a wry smile playing on his lips.
It's Peter's first day at Midtown School of Science and Technology. Despite having the chance to attend a more advanced private school, Tony had no choice but to opt for Midtown Tech at the insistence of his son because Peter's best friend, Ned, is already enrolled there. After careful thinking, Tony finally agreed, recognizing the school's sterling reputation for nurturing gifted students and fostering a passion for science. Additionally, the school's proximity, just a few blocks from their Tower, made it a convenient choice.
In just a matter of minutes, they arrived and stepped out of the car. Their presence drew the attention of several students, parents, and bystanders, who peeked on with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, both at them and at the impressive car they had arrived in.
They stepped out, and Tony held Peter's hand before letting him go, "You call me if there's anything wrong, okay? Anything, and don't forget to reapply your repellent spray during lunch."
Peter furrowed his brow, "Dad, it's sticky, and it's not even summer anymore. We're in New York."
"We can't be too careful, right?" he said as he gently stroked Peter's hair.
Tony felt concerned about Peter's significant weight loss due to the infection. Not only did Peter struggle with fatigue now, hindering his ability to run distances, but he also appeared noticeably thinner despite maintaining a nutritious diet. Tony's anxiety heightened as he worried about Peter's health. He can't let anything like that ever happen again,
"Come on, give your Dad a hug."
Peter's arms wrapped tightly around him, "I love you, Dad," a smile spreading across his face.
"I love you, kiddo. Take care not to overexert yourself, alright. I'll swing by to pick you up later." With a gentle kiss on his forehead, he hoped his child would be alright, watching until Peter disappeared through the school's entrance before heading out.
"Peter, I can't believe we're classmates already!" Ned exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement as he rushed forward to wrap Peter in an embrace the moment he saw him at the front door.
"Absolutely! About time!" Peter exclaimed with a wide grin, sealing their agreement with a bro fist handshake before heading off to their classroom.
Midtown Science and Technology boasts expansive facilities encompassing elementary, middle, and high school halls. Its student body primarily consists of intellectually gifted individuals who exhibit a keen interest in mathematics and science.
Peter felt a sense of upliftment as he settled into his new school—it was a significant improvement from his previous one. Here, he found himself among peers whose intellect matched his own. Being a Stark, he no longer endured the scrutiny or unwelcome attention that beset him in his former environment.
Despite being two years younger than most of his fourth-grade classmates, who are bigger and taller, they treat him just like any other person. Luckily, the majority, if not all, are nerds, which he finds cool and promising. Plus, he has his best friend whom he can always rely on.
The months flew by smoothly, until one particular day when Peter's keen grasp of basic chemistry outshone Eugene Thompson's faltering understanding with a correct answer.
Eugene scowled at him and there were a few times the same thing happened. Eugene always prioritizes speed over accuracy and quickly answers before even checking his solutions while Peter always answers correctly in his stead. Ever since then, Eugene got the nickname "Flash" from his classmates.
"Dude, don't push it," Ned whispered with a chuckle as Peter effortlessly answered yet another question Flash got wrong.
"Hey, I can't help it. They always ask me after him."
Peter glanced over and sighed when he noticed Flash, who was silently mouthing the threatening words "You're dead, Stark" in his direction.
When Gym class began, it was time for a Basketball lesson, which meant the students had drills to complete. Coach Murch initiated a roll call before kicking off the session.
"Parker?" Flash asked Ned curious that Coach went for "Peter Parker Stark" earlier.
Ned responded, "It's his middle name taken from his mom's married name."
Flash smirked, his eyes fixed on Peter.
As the drills commenced, Peter pushed himself through the first few laps of their running warm-up around the gym. Yet, just three laps in, he found himself stopping, panting heavily as he struggled to catch his breath. Memories of his former agility and strength flooded his mind, he used to breeze through runs and bike rides effortlessly. Now, he couldn't even complete a single lap without succumbing to exhaustion.
Coach insisted on limiting his physical activity to half of the usual workload, with a focus on lighter exercises, due to concerns about his health. Dad has already communicated this prior with both Coach and the Principal, requesting that strenuous exercises, which could potentially affect his lungs, be avoided.
"Come on, little Parker!" He noticed Flash smirking, effortlessly sprinting ahead, leaving him panting in his trail.
His brows furrowed in confusion. What? No one calls me Parker. Parker is my middle name. Stark is my last name.
After completing his final drill, Peter Stark declared, "I'm Peter Stark, Flash."
"You're not when you're like that." Flash ceased tossing the basketball to his partner and approached him, "I'll call you a Stark when you're as strong as your Dad. Oh wait, you got zero chances of that ever happening, so," Flash nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips as he casually tapped his shoulder, "I'll see you around little Parker."
The Starks settled into their new residence within the newly completed Stark Tower just a month before the final installation of the Stark-Energy Reactor.
Spanning the uppermost three floors, Tony and Peter's sky-high penthouse encompasses an opulent fusion of modernity and futurism, housing their personal living quarters and cutting-edge laboratories.
Following suit, the subsequent ten floors are dedicated to Research and Development, bustling with innovation and scientific exploration. The remainder of the tower is devoted to housing the company's offices, ensuring seamless integration of work and creativity within the architectural marvel.
As they dined in the Tower's Penthouse, with a panoramic view showcasing the glistening Empire State Building and the surrounding Manhattan skyline, Tony turned to his son with concern,
"Pete, are you okay?"
Peter glanced at his father, "Yeah?" but his mind was elsewhere, the taunts from Flash replaying relentlessly in his thoughts despite his attempts to brush them off.
"You're spacing out. I asked how's school?"
"Oh, it was pretty solid. We dove into Thermodynamics, and Ned and I aced the quiz. The cafeteria served mac and cheese for lunch, which wasn't great. Oh, and Gym was... okay," Peter muttered while picking at his veggies, not looking at his Father.
Tony raised an eyebrow, a flicker of instinct came to him signalling that something was wrong,
"Alright. Who is it?"
"What?"
Tony's blood boiled with anger, "Who even has the nerve to bully you?" his voice tinged with disbelief.
"No one, it's nothing, Dad."
"It's that Flash, is it? The one who's jealous of you. Ned mentioned."
Peter's eyes widened, "What? Since when did Ned? Never mind, it's nothing, Dad."
"It's nothing? It's not nothing. What did that kid say to you?"
Peter nervously bit his lower lip, the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. He knew Dad wouldn't take it well. A tense silence hung in the air.
"Alright, that's settled. I'll contact your principal now to discuss—" Tony's hand moved towards his phone, ready to make the call.
"Wait, Dad," Peter interrupted, shaking his head, "Please. It's okay. I can handle it."
Tony sighed, knowing full well that Peter would likely brush it off, as he often did. He understood his son better than anyone. Despite being heir to the Stark fortune, with all its vast riches and a multi-billion dollar company, Peter remained remarkably humble. His capacity for forgiveness and understanding never ceased to amaze Tony. Peter's kindness, thoughtfulness, and humility were qualities Tony deeply admired in his son, and they were the reasons he felt immense pride in him.
"I hate seeing you like that, Pete. You're troubled and worried. If you're not gonna tell me, then I need to have a proper conversation with that kid."
Peter glanced downward, exhaling softly before responding, "He called me little Parker. Because he said I'm not strong enough to be a Stark like you."
Tony's expression hardened. Peter is a Stark, through and through. His son even proved to be stronger than he ever was. Starks were known for their intellect and resilience, and Peter was no exception. And how dare that kid insult the Parkers?
"Hey baby, look at me." He locked eyes with Peter, gently caressing his face, "You know, I've known some remarkable women. Your Grandma, Pepper, and guess who else? Your mother, Mary Parker. Back when she was a Fitzpatrick, I saw her as this brilliant, strong-willed woman. A scientist and a SHIELD agent, no less. Pretty impressive, right? But let me tell you, Peter, strength is one thing, but intelligence, now that's something else entirely. And you've got it all, kid. You're a Stark, after all, it's in your blood. So, no matter what life throws your way, remember this: Peter Stark. You rise above it all, alright? You're a blend of brains and brawn, my son. You'll always be more than what anyone else says."
Tony smiled warmly at Peter, whose eyes glistened with emotion.
As a tear escaped, Peter brushed it away, enveloping his dad in a tight embrace. At that moment, he felt overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you, Dad," he whispered, knowing that his father always had the perfect words to comfort him.
"I love you, kid. Remember what I said. And you cannot let Flash treat you that way, okay? If that happens again I'm really gonna have to stick up a missile on his butt, capiche?"
Peter chuckled as Dad ran a hand through his hair. "Capiche," he said with a grin.