Chapter Text
Tony’s hands were shaking when he heard FRIDAY telling him that Steve was looking for him.
He had no idea how long he’d been cowering in the laundry room, next to the washing machine, but it was long enough for Steve to finish his morning run – and he did not hold back on his runs.
Taking a few deep breaths, Tony stood up and shook himself out before grabbing the offending book, along with Peter’s backpack and heading out of the room towards the communal rooms. He found Steve there, cooking breakfast in an apron.
“Oh, hey Tony, I was wonder- are you alright?” Steve began, interrupting himself.
“I’m fine,” tony assured him, much too quickly.
Steve narrowed his eyes at Tony, before looking down to see what he was holding in his hands. “What’s that?” Steve asked.
“Peter’s bag,” Tony said, throwing the almost empty backpack on the couch, “and Fred Murray- Goggle-faced-freak’s research diary.”
Without any explanation to Steve, Tony crossed to the sink and tossed the book in haphazardly. He spun and ignored a stunned Steve as he retrieved a box of matches from the cupboard. Next, Tony struck a match and held the flame to the pages of the book. They took alight instantly, charring and burning in front of their eyes. The two of them watched in silence as the flames greedily ate up the paper, until nothing but ashes and the charred leather bindings remained.
Tony flicked the tap on and watched the water extinguish the flames and wash the ashes down the plug hole.
“Not a good read then I suppose,” Steve shrugged as Tony retrieved the soggy book bindings from the sink and chucked them unceremoniously in the bin.
“What Peter doesn’t know can’t hurt him,” Tony said to Steve with a quirked eyebrow.
Steve nodded, acknowledging Tony’s wish to keep this whole scenario from the boy. “But…” Steve began in a small voice. “You know, and it can hurt you.”
Slumping down in a chair at the kitchen island, Tony mentally cursed Steve and his finely tuned moral compass.
“When Peter went to the past last time, that fucker Fred gave him an option to change the future or keep it the same,” Tony began to explain, knowing Steve would not shut up about it until he told him. “The Tony we met last night was from the reality that ours would have switched to had Peter decided to change the future. I don’t know how the kid did it, but, obviously, Peter chose to keep the future the same, even though Fred tried everything to persuade him to change the future - he was trying to save his own family who died in the Battle of New York. But… in that book it explained that in the other reality, because Obadiah is put in prison in 2001, I never become Iron Man. And therefore, the Avengers were a man down in the battle of New York. Now, I don’t know how stupid Fred must be, but he never actually visited the Battle of New York in that reality; and he obviously did not realise how fucking stupid he was.”
Steve was silent. “The nuke,” he whispered. Tony nodded slowly, silently.
“I don’t know for sure… but I can make a fair guess that without Iron Man there at the Battle of New York, the whole fucking city got blown up by that nuke I put through a wormhole,” Tony ran both his hands through his hair manically. “Fred was trying to get his family back, who died in the invasion, but what he actually would have done was killed millions of people – including himself and his family.”
“And…” Steve stuttered. “And he decided to put the fate of the whole city on the shoulders of a teenager.”
“Not just the city, Steve,” Tony explained in strained voice. “He would have killed the whole of the avengers – Earth’s defenders. Everything we’ve faced, every invasion and terrorist we’ve stopped would have been able to go on their merry way.”
Steve stood with a vacant expression. “Shit…”
Tony had a similar reaction – but was mostly in awe of how Peter Parker’s selflessness and genius mind accidentally saved millions of people.
“He’s a hell of a good kid,” Steve breathed.
With a small laugh Tony smiled in pride. “I know. He’s a fucking genius.”
“So… if it turned out that Peter made the right decision, why don’t you want him to know? Why did you burn the book?” Steve asked.
“Oh, believe me I want him to know he made the right decision, now I know that that’s what’s been fucking him over all these months,” Tony said. “But that book had all sorts in it – diagrams and instructions on how to make and use the watches, information about all the other realities Fred visited, a creepy amount of information about Peter. I just don’t want Peter, or anyone else, finding it and getting any more ideas, you know.”
“Agreed,” Steve nodded.
It didn’t take long for Bruce, Bucky and Peter to wake, and soon they were all in the kitchen eating waffles. Peter still looked exhausted and haunted, but Tony figured he could take a nap once they’d watch the time travel watches get destroyed.
All of them gathered together in the training room to watch the show, and to make it more creative, they found other ways to fuck up the watches before they got properly destroyed.
Peter and Steve each threw a watch as hard as the could across the room and watched as Tony fired a repulsor blast at one, and Bucky pelted the other with bullets from his favourite gun.
They threw the watches at the walls and floor until the outer fixtures were broken beyond repair and the only parts left where the glowing green and purple gems.
“I never did figure out how Fred used them to manipulate time,” Tony mumbled to himself as Steve spectacularly sliced through the gems with the edge of his shield, causing each of them to shatter until they were nothing but dust and no longer glowing.
Since that was over, Bruce shepherded Peter back to the med bay to remove the stitches and the chest tube that had been annoying him since the previous night. Bruce did an ultra-sound on Peter’s chest and happily told them that his lung had re-inflated, and then easily removed the chest tube while Tony made exaggerated gagging sounds from the corner of the room.
Bruce discharged him as soon as he’d been cleaned up, and Peter began a sleepy march to his room.
“Not so fast kiddo,” Tony called after him. “Why don’t we head to sofa for a bit?”
Both of them new that was an obvious code for ‘we need to have that talk’, and so Peter gulped nervously before following Tony to his large, luxury apartment suite.
Tony led Peter to a large sofa and turned on some nature documentary on a low volume to take the edge off the silence, before turning to face Peter, who seemed to be trying to diffuse into the sofa by squishing himself into the furthest corner.
Sighing, Tony shuffled closer to the boy and put a firm hand on his knee.
“The first thing I want to say is a good thing, okay?” Tony said in a calm and reassuring voice. Peter nodded shyly. “I want to congratulate you for being mature and selfless and ingenious.”
“What for?” Peter asked quietly.
Smiling sadly, Tony began to explain what he’d read in Fred’s book that morning, and what he’d predicted from that about the Battle of New York. Peter’s eyes grew wider with each sentence, until Tony finished with the news that he burned the book.
“So… I did make the right decision?” Peter questioned disbelievingly.
“Of course you did, kiddo,” Tony smiled. “You saved millions of people, you know.” Uncharacteristically, Peter stayed deathly silent and still, and Tony decided to move the conversation forward himself. “So, now you know that, do you think you can talk to me about what’s been bugging you all this time?”
Peter hesitated, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down to cover his hands ad bundled them up near his mouth, as though physically stopping the words forming. Gently and slowly, Tony pulled the boy’s hands down and looked deep into his chocolate brown eyes.
“I… I just felt – felt like I had… I don-don’t know… It sounds stupid…” Peter stammered, not looking at Tony.
“Hey, nothing you say is stupid, Pete,” Tony reassured softly, rubbing soothing circles on the boy’s knees. “Take your time.”
Taking a deep breath, Peter started again. “Don’t… just don’t say anything until I explain – please?” Tony nodded. “Okay, so… so- you know when I came back last time, and I told you about how Goggle-man told me I could change the past – I mean the future…or reality? You know what I mean… well, he kind of implied that in the other reality, my parents didn’t die, and neither did my uncle Ben, since he wasn’t technically my uncle. And so, even though I guessed that the other reality would not turn out well in the end, with you not being Iron Man and stuff, it still kind of felt like it was my fault even more that they died this time, kind of like because I chose for them to die.”
Tony processed what had been said for a minute. “But, you realise that you didn’t choose for them to die, you just chose for millions of other people not to die?”
“Yes, I know that, but I don’t know know that… like – like when you know you locked the front door when you left but there’s still that voice in your head that tells you you didn’t.” Tony smirked, but nodded anyway. “Well, it’s like that. And it’s like that voice gets louder sometimes until I’m totally convinced that it’s my fault they’re dead.” Peter didn’t realise he’d started to cry until he felt tears running down his face and clinging to the bottom of his chin.
“Peter,” Tony began quietly. “I understand what you’re saying, and why you thought what you thought, but do you understand how none of their deaths were your fault?” he implored. “You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t crash the plane. It’s not on you.” He moved forward to pull Peter towards him, hugging the boy to his chest and stroking his hair comfortingly. “So that’s why you’ve been hiding from me for all this time? Why you haven’t been sleeping and why you’re working yourself to the bone?” Tony asked.
“Basically yeah,” Peter agreed, as he steadied his breathing out again. “It’s just, I thought… th-that in the other reality you were so happy – you had a little baby and Mary and you loved them and you just seemed happy. And then I know that the real you - this Tony,” he said, pressing his hand to Tony’s chest. “He isn’t always happy, and he used to drink and he was sad and depressed and anxious, and I thought you would prefer it in the other reality.”
Tony was lost for words. Why was this kid so fucking selfless?
“Kid….” Tony began, but trailed off, not knowing where he was going. “Peter, listen to me now,” he instructed, positioning himself so that was looking directly into Peter’s eyes. “I fucking love you so much for thinking of me even at a time like this – but you really don’t need to worry about me. All the drinking and anxiety and stuff is what made me who I am today, and I don’t want to be anyone else. Of course, I regret not being able to spend your childhood with you, and I know that some aspects of your childhood were shit, but some of it must have also been amazing, because you are the most amazing and strongest person I know – and everything that has happened to you has shaped who you are. And you are fucking amazing.”
“You’re not half bad either,” Peter mumbled.
Smirking, Tony pulled Peter towards himself again and smothered him in hugs. “Never, ever think that I’d ever want to change this relationship we have now Peter, because you’re my son and I think you’re the best person ever and I don’t care if I’m sad and stressed – you always make me feel better, even if you’re the one who caused the stress, like when you got thrown against a dumpster at four in the morning on Friday.”
“Sorry,” Peter muttered into his father’s chest.
“What are you apologising for, Pete? There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Tony assured him. “You may be reckless and you may think it is a good idea to jump into other realities as you please, but I never want you to feel that anything that has gone wrong in my life, or even your life, is your fault. As cheesy as it sounds, everything happens for a reason – and me being here right now with you, my son, watching nature documentaries on the TV, is exactly where I want to be, where I’ll always want to be. So never apologise for causing me to worry, Pete, okay? Because the good times make up for the bad times tenfold.”
Peter’s face scrunched up cutely as he let tears drop from his eyelashes and onto Tony’s shirt. Tony sat there, working out the knots in Peter’s back muscles with one hand and encircling his son’s whole body with the other and mindlessly watched a female badger tend to her cubs on the screen.
And, if Steve, Bucky and Bruce came to check on the pair an hour later and found the two fast asleep on the sofa, bundled together in a beautiful bubble of paternal love, then they never mentioned it, but they may have taken a couple of photos to show the rest of the team later; the real proof that Tony Stark has a heart.