Chapter Text
There was not much that could shock Tony anymore. He had learned that almost nothing ever went according to plan, and that expecting the unexpected was a sound strategy when it came to children. Everyone was present and conscious, and no one was bleeding, so at least there was that. Yet tears and long faces only meant the situation was trickier—Happy plumping himself onto the armchair with a long suffering sigh instead of bolting also suggested it was serious.
Morgan looked fine, if a bit subdued, as she crawled onto the couch next to Tony after kicking off her shoes. Peter, on the other hand, was holding onto his backpack like a lifeline, perched on the edge of his seat on the sofa opposite Tony, avoiding his eyes.
“Not that this isn’t fun, but if anyone wants to start talking that would be great.” Tony raised his eyebrows pointedly at Happy, who groaned but straightened up, loosening his tie.
“There was an incident.”
“I gathered. Come on, the suspense is killing me.”
“Fair warning I only know what the security guard told me.”
Security guard? Tony looked from Morgan, who had picked up a cushion and was kneading it like a cat, to Peter, who winced at the word and started bouncing his knees.
Happy explained he had got a call that Peter had been detained for shoplifting—and resisting. “It was a whole mess. Guy said he thought Peter was giving him attitude, that he had broken some toy on purpose.” Pulling the pieces of a broken plastic tiara out of the pocket of his jacket, he passed them on to Tony. “Said he almost knocked over the salesperson too.”
Peter gave a sharp inhalation at that. Jumping to his feet, he looked a second from bolting before he sat back down, folded over his backpack.
“Well. He sounds like he had no idea what he was talking about,” Tony snapped, then turned to Peter. “Peter, kid, want to tell me what really happened?” he asked, gentling his tone.
It might have been more appropriate to ask if he could—Tony recognized when Peter was overwhelmed.
“He said he might have misread the situation, didn’t realize Peter’s…” Happy hesitated as he searched for the words, grimacing. “Not like that.” He cleared his throat, shooting Tony a meaningful look.
Meaning the security guard had ended up noticing Peter was neurodivergent or something of the sort, and that he had fucked up.
Not long after Peter had become a part of their lives, Happy had pestered Tony until he had shared his suspicions that Peter was probably on the spectrum. Since they had talked to Morgan a few months before, confirmation had naturally reached him.
“I’m going to have him fired,” Tony muttered.
“No, Mr Stark—” Peter said miserably. “He was just doing his job. And he didn’t lie. I-I wouldn’t let them check my b-backpack because I had the suit and the web shooters with m-me,” he stammered, his voice rising in pitch and thick with tears. “And the woman tried to take it and I pulled back too hard, but it was an accident. S-same as the tiara. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry—”
He broke off with a stuttering breath, and fell silent, chin trembling, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.
“Hey.” Tony made a soothing sound, relieved when Peter met his eyes briefly. “I believe you, Pete. It’s OK.”
“No one’s pressing charges for shoplifting less than 50 bucks in toys either,” Happy added. “So relax, kid.”
Eyes darting to Morgan, Peter opened his mouth, irresolute, but closed it without saying anything.
Tony turned the tiara in his hands. “Not that you couldn’t pull it off, Peter… But this doesn’t seem quite your style.”
Happy obliged with a snort, but it didn’t succeed in drawing even a shadow of a smile from Peter, who only eyed him warily.
Groping for her small foot in its cupcake sock, Tony gave it a light shake. “Morgan… you got anything to say?”
She wiggled her toes, but didn’t answer until he pinched these lightly.
“Morgan—”
“It wasn’t my fault,” she said finally, sullenly.
“Famous last words,” Happy muttered.
Tony removed the cushion from her hands and set it aside. “What wasn’t?”
Pouting, Morgan grabbed the broken tiara. “Peter broke it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“But he made the security man mad.”
“Morgan, did you put the toys in Peter’s backpack, yes or no?” Tony challenged—it was clear he was not going to get the truth from her unless he was firm. “Morgan.”
She nodded at last, mouth pulled to one side.
Tony scrubbed at his beard tiredly. “How’d you get it in his backpack without him noticing?”
“It was my fault. I… I left her my backpack when I went to the restroom,” Peter answered in a low voice. “They said—” He shook his head, shamefaced. “It was just for a minute. I didn’t think—”
Happy grimaced. “Kid, really?”
Peter’s face crumpled before he buried it against his backpack.
“Of course he didn’t think anything would happen,” Tony said, scowling at Happy. “The question is what were you thinking, Morgan?”
“I didn’t think he’d get in trouble!” she protested, glowering.
“What did—” Tony stopped himself and forced himself to take a deep breath. “What did you think would happen, Miss?” he asked with measured calm.
Arms crossed over her chest, Morgan remained obstinately silent even as her eyes filled with tears.
“You didn’t just lie to Peter, you stayed quiet when you saw him get in trouble.” The shoplifting in itself did not faze Tony—what was hard to confront was the manner she had gone about it. As much as he knew all kids fucked up at one point or another, he had not been expecting something like this. He had to have gone wrong somewhere… and the pressure was on now to handle it right.
“It’s not my fault he’s… weird!” Morgan burst out. “He got in trouble because there’s something wrong with him—the security man said so. And Elena thinks so too.”
“Morgan!” Tony shouted— furious, horrified, and ashamed all at once. He turned to Peter, whose face had drained of color and gone alarmingly blank.
They had sat her down to explain what autism meant, Pepper and him together—watched a couple of videos and read a story book. At the time she had seemed to understand—some people were wired a little different than most which meant their own peculiar difficulties and strengths—and her behaviour toward Peter had been normal in the months since. Where had this come from?
“It wasn’t my fault!” she continued, screaming back. “I want Mommy.” Flinging the tiara on the floor, she slipped past him, wailing, to run upstairs to her bedroom.
Peter flinched at the door slam that followed. He sat still for a long moment, face ashen.
“Peter—”
His movements leaden, he rose to his feet. “Sorry. I’m… I’m so sorry,” he choked out before rushing out of the room.
“Well shit,” Happy said when Peter’s footsteps had reached his own bedroom.
Tony rubbed both palms down his face, feeling hollowed out. “What are you talking about? That went spectacularly. A screaming match and two kids in tears locked up in their rooms. I’m officially father of the year,” he said, deadpan.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Kids are insane.”
“What was it you used to say… that you had to be insane to have kids?” Tony replied wryly.
“I stand by it.” Happy gave a quiet chuckle. “You used to say the same.”
“I did.” He pushed the tiara closer with his foot to pick it up with a sigh. “And I think I do too.” A person had to be insane to subject themselves to this… yet it was the best thing he had ever done, without question. Still— “Christ, I need Pepper.”
He stared at Happy as the sound of footsteps and then the key in the lock at the front door reached them: Pepper, just arriving.
“I called her,” Happy confirmed. “Thought you’d need the help.”
Tony clucked his tongue. “Such little faith.” But he could not quite hold back his smile. It would never do to tell him, but Happy was a marvel.
Pepper’s eyebrows rose and fell in amazement as Happy and Tony filled her in on what had happened.
“Welcome home!” Tony deadpanned when they were done.
Leaning back against the kitchen counter, Pepper took a long sip of her glass of water before straightening with a determined expression on her face—something so familiar and so Pepper, Tony instantly felt better.
“I’ll talk to Morgan,” she said, adjusting her ponytail. “You go to Peter.”
Tony gave a quiet knock before going ahead and pushing the door open. He found Peter cocooned in a summer quilt from head to toe, despite the house being at a comfortable temperature. He had let go of the backpack at least, which now sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“Hey, kiddo. Brought you some juice.”
A quavery thank you reached him even as Peter only curled up tighter under the comforter.
“You may need to come out from under there to drink it,” Tony teased lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
While he was hoping to coax him out from under the bedclothes, he also knew sugar would help—and Peter wasn’t quite on top of his metabolic needs on a good day, let alone when he was upset and overwhelmed.
“I brought some cookies too—just don’t tell Morgan, she doesn’t get you have a crazy metabolism and won’t spoil your dinner, unlike her.”
Tony winced the moment the words were out of his mouth—yet it got Peter to poke his head out—revealing a telltale pink nose and wet lashes—and it was an opener to a conversation they needed to have, as difficult as it may be.
“Mr Stark, I’m… I’m so sorry—” he croaked.
Setting the glass down on the bedside table, Tony reached out to brush his curls back from his forehead. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said firmly, thumbing at his wild eyebrow.
Peter leaned into the touch, though his frown did not smooth out.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tony repeated, gentle but emphatic.
Peter’s expression tightened as though in pain, and he mumbled something Tony didn’t catch.
“What was that, Spider-baby?”
“I’m wrong,” he said again, without opening his eyes, voice hollow. “Morgan said.”
“Peter, Morgan is a seven year old who got caught out and is now in trouble.” It was never easy to hear Peter talking himself down, but it was worse when his own daughter had contributed to the problem.
Peter gave a slight shake of his head, eyes downcast. “She’s right, though. It was my fault.”
Tony fought back a sigh. “How? How was it your fault?”
“I should have realized what was going on with the girls,” he explained, gripping the quilt so that his hands were tucked under his chin. “And then, I… I freaked out. None of it would have happened if I wasn’t—”
“The security guard was out of line,” Tony cut in. “Whatever else, you’re just a kid.”
Peter pouted. “I’m not a kid.”
“Sorry to tell you this, Petey-pie, but you are,” he replied, chucking him under his beardless chin. “He was the adult and authority figure and he was in the wrong here, no ifs or buts.”
“But I should be able to take care of Morgan,” Peter burst out, thrusting back the coverlet and scrambling to sit up.
The BB-8 plush Tony had gifted him a few months before rolled out into the light.
“Pete.”
“But I’m useless,” he continued savagely. “And Miss Potts will be mad at me, and Morgan hates me now. Mr Stark, I don’t want her to hate me, she’s your daughter, and I’m—”
“You’re my kid.”
Peter drew in a loud, tremulous breath—then burst into tears.
“And she loves you, kiddo. I promise you. She’s going to make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. It’s a process, yeah? Kids are little savages, it takes time to whip them into shape—not literally.”
That managed to draw a weak, watery smile out of Peter, before his face crumpled again.
By this point Tony had developed a decent technique for wrangling crying children into his arms, and Peter went easily.
“I messed up.” he insisted.
“You didn’t. Things got a little… out of hand, it happens.” Tony held him in a tight embrace like he knew calmed him best. “But everyone is safe, right?”
Peter gave a small nod against Tony’s stomach.
“And Morgan’s going to learn some important lessons today—which is a good thing. Necessary.”
Shaking his head, Peter twisted free, groping for a corner of his sheets to wipe his face, sniffling. “I’m still sorry.”
Tony shushed him, and pressed the glass of juice into his hands. “Don’t make me repeat myself: it wasn’t your fault.”
Though Peter obediently gulped down some juice, he shrank back afterwards, drawing his knees up and curling his shoulders. “Sorry I make your life more complicated,” he said dully. “If I could just be…”
“You don’t have to be any way than how you are, Peter. The things you struggle with are not your fault, alright? And it’s never going to make me want you or love you less, OK?” Finding his bare ankle, Tony gave it a squeeze. “And you’re more than that, you know?”
Drawing the robot plush to his lap, Peter gave a small shrug, keeping his head down. “I know. Because I’m Spider-man…” he agreed lifelessly.
“Not because you’re Spider-man. Because you’re you, Peter.”
Peter looked up at him, eyes wet and unsure.
“Understood?” Tony asked, squeezing his ankle again.
It took a long moment, but he finally nodded. “Understood,” he answered in a small voice.
“Good. Now—” Tony spread his arms in invitation. “You want to get back in here?”
Although he still looked tearful, Peter’s lips quirked, and he nestled in Tony’s embrace with a contented sound.
Keeping up a relaxing narration about his latest nanotech project, Tony rubbed his back in long, regular strokes—it didn’t take long before he felt Peter’s body growing heavier.
“Getting sleepy?” he whispered.
“A little bit,” Peter slurred.
“Why don’t you take a little nap, while I have a chat with Morgan.” Tony ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing the curls around his ears. “Anything you want me to say to her? Besides sorry, which you don’t need to be,” he added quickly.
Peter clutched at Tony’s shirt, burrowing closer. “Just that… I try?”
“Spider-baby. Peter.” Tony sighed. Out of words, he simply gathered him into a tight hug again, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Tony mentally prepared himself as he made his way to Morgan’s room, crushing a few mints between his teeth.
While he was no stranger to delivering the occasional talking-to, he had never had to address anything that required such careful handling as this.
“Daddy, I’m sorry!” Morgan launched herself at him as soon as he stepped into the room.
Next to Pepper on the bed sat Morgan’s tablet, which they had agreed to confiscate for the weekend. “We had a little talk, about stealing,” Pepper informed him. “And how it’s not acceptable behaviour.”
Morgan nodded emphatically, reaching for Tony’s hand. “I know it’s wrong, and I won’t do it again. Never ever.”
“I know you won’t, Maguna,” Tony said, giving her hand a squeeze. He had faith in that aspect, especially since he did not believe the shoplifting had been about the toys themselves. She did not lack for them—even as Pepper and him had done their best to teach her moderation—and Morgan had never been a demanding child. “But we need to talk about the things you said about Peter.”
Exhaling noisily, Morgan dropped his hand. “But I didn’t say anything wrong. He is weird,” she argued, throwing herself on the bed dramatically.
“So am I,” Tony countered, nudging her in order to seat himself next to her. “Budge up.”
She pulled a face as she sat up, folding her legs underneath her. “Not like Peter.”
Tony exchanged a look with Pepper. This conversation was making his acid reflux act up.
“Does Peter being weird cancel out how nice he was, taking you and Elena to the mall? Buying you that necklace?” Pepper asked, taking over. “Hm?”
Slipping a necklace from under her tee shirt, Morgan traced the outline of the puzzle piece pendant, thinking it over. “No. But…”
“Didn’t you have fun with him?”
“Yes. But—I don’t know,” she demurred, twisting her fingers in her lap.
“Yes you do. What is it?” Tony pushed. “You usually love playing with Peter.”
Morgan wavered for a minute before heaving a big sigh. “I don’t want other kids to think I’m weird like him,” she confessed finally in hushed tones. “I don’t want them to laugh at me.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, holding in the string of expletives that threatened to burst free. Pepper reached for him, her touch on his wrist calming.
“Did something happen, sweetheart?” she asked Morgan.
“Someone laughed at Peter? At you?”
“Mm. Some kids did! Because Peter was talking and talking about some dinosaur, and Elena had to tell him to stop, because we couldn’t understand.” Morgan explained as she shifted to sit cross legged, resting her elbows heavily on her knees. “And then later he was doing that thing… you know. It was so embarrassing.”
“So, what, you thought to play a trick on him to impress your friend?” Tony asked wearily.
“No!” Morgan whined, but wouldn’t elaborate. “Elena said no one would find out…” she mumbled eventually.
“That wouldn’t have made it OK, Morgan.”
Tony shook his head, still not quite able to wrap his head around this entire mess. “What were you thinking…”
“I said I was sorry,” she snivelled.
Pulling out a tissue, Pepper wiped her face and combed her hair back from her face. “Don’t cry now. Remember how we talked about how everyone is different, and some people are a special sort of different?”
Morgan pointed to her bookshelf. “Yeah… Because of autism. But we should always be nice to everyone,” she answered dutifully.
“Those kids weren’t being very nice, making fun of Peter, were they?”
Expression solemn, Morgan shook her head.
“You and Elena weren’t very nice playing a trick on him either, were you?”
“You lied to him, didn’t you?” Tony interrupted flatly when she opened her mouth to argue.
“Yes…” she admitted, the corners of her mouth downturned.
“And you really hurt his feelings, Maguna, saying there’s something wrong with him,” he continued in a low, urgent voice. This was something he needed to get through to her.
“But why can’t he be like everyone else?” she demanded, whining.
Pepper gave a slight shake of her head—it was clear they would have to sit down and watch some more videos, find some more stories to read.
“Peter is Peter. We wouldn’t want him to be any other way, anyone else, would we?” Tony replied, encouraging Morgan to look him in the eye.
“No…”
“Peter tries really hard to be a good brother to you, you know.” He called attention to the necklace around her neck, and her hands automatically came up to grip the pendant. “Will you try to be a good sister to him?”
She looked up at him, expression contrite. “I’ll be the best sister.”
“That means not playing tricks on him like that, are we clear?” Tony insisted.
“I won’t! I promise. Cross my heart.”
After throwing her arms around his neck and some tears when they told her she had to apologize to Peter, Morgan proposed making him a card so that he wouldn’t be sad anymore.
Alone in the kitchen while Morgan worked on her card in her room, Pepper stopped Tony before he could get started on dinner. Interlacing her fingers on the nape of his neck, she gave him a tired smile.
“Breathe, sweetheart. It’s going to be OK.”
With a sigh, Tony leaned forward to rest his forehead on Pepper’s shoulder. “Are you sure?” he asked in spite of himself.
“Yes,” she said vehemently. “This kind of thing happens. But Morgan loves Peter. She’ll understand more when she’s older—it’ll get easier.”
“Peter’s so hard on himself,” Tony continued after a minute, pulling the chicken out of the refrigerator. “He won’t let this go easily.”
Pepper fetched the honey from the cupboard without a word—honey and garlic was Peter’s favorite sauce for chicken. “We’ll do our best to help things along. This was a learning experience, for all of us.”
Tony drew her into another quick kiss, appreciative of her concern and fondness for Peter, whose increasing presence and importance in Tony’s life over the years she had always taken in stride.
“With the amount of parenting books I’ve read, feel like I should have been better prepared,” he said ruefully.
She breathed a laugh. “Kids aren’t robots, Tony, there’s no instruction manual.”
“Well that’s outrageous.”
It didn’t take long for Morgan to bound down the stairs to show them the card she had made, still sticky with glue and trailing glitter. It read SORRY PETER in big letters, and she had signed her name in purple, her current favorite color.
“It’s very nice, honey,” Pepper said, handing the card to Tony.
“Can I give it to him now?” Morgan asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Tony hesitated. “I’m gonna go check if he’s up for visitors first, alright?”
In case Peter was still sleeping, Tony toed the door open rather than knock, and peeked inside. Peter was awake—but the fact that he jumped when Tony rapped his knuckles on the door frame showed he was still a little out of it.
Still, he had changed into more comfortable clothes and splashed water on his face, and though he was still in bed, he was sat up and tinkering with his web shooters.
“Making chicken for dinner, sound good?” Tony asked.
“Mhm. With the—”
“With the honey garlic sauce, yes. What else?” he teased, gratified when Peter broke into a grin in response, even if it wasn’t as bright as usual.
“I can always use some help. If you’re up for it.” The last thing Tony wanted was to put pressure on him.
“Just you and me?” Peter asked in a small voice after a moment’s pause.
Tony reached out to ruffle his hair, and let his hand rest on top of his head. “Just me and you, Spider-baby.”
Peter smiled up at him. “OK.”
“Perfect.” Letting his hand drop to Peter’s shoulder, Tony gave it a reassuring squeeze. “So. Morgan wanted to give you a card she made you, if that’s OK.”
“A card?”
“To apologize.”
“Oh.” Peter ducked his head, twirling the screwdriver in his hand. “You didn’t have to do that, Mr Stark.”
“It was her idea. Spoiler alert: it involves a lot of glitter.”
Despite still looking uncertain, Peter’s lips twitched. “That’s serious.”
Peter walked out of his room glued to Tony, shoulders rounded, twisting his hands in front of him.
Even so, his smile when Morgan rushed over to him, card in hand, was sincere and unrestrained. She stopped short in front of him, suddenly timid as she offered the card.
“Wow, this is so pretty,” Peter said, examining it reverently. “And you used the special pens just for me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Thank you, Mo.”
“Are you happy now?” There was no doubt it was innocently said, but the way the words could sound sardonic made Tony want to face palm.
“Do you accept Morgan’s apology, sweetheart?” Pepper asked Peter quickly.
“Yes, of course.”
Morgan released her breath like she had been underwater, and flung herself into his arms when he knelt down for a hug.
“I’m sorry.” Tony heard her mumble, heartfelt. “Love you, Pete.”
“Love you too,” Peter whispered sounding a bit weepy.
“You can choose the movie tonight, if you want,” Morgan said as they separated.
“Wow, really?”
Eyes widened meaningfully, Morgan turned to Tony. “I’m a good sister.”
Tony bit back a laugh. “That is a nice thing to do,” he confirmed. “Morgan isn’t getting any TV time tonight, though. As discussed.”
Morgan deflated. “Oh, right.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Tony cut in—firm but gentle—when Peter opened his mouth. Kids had to be disciplined, and that involved consequences too.
“Let’s finish cleaning up your room, darling. There’s glitter all over the place,” Pepper called to her.
“And we’ll finish up dinner.”
At the top of the stairs, Tony wrapped an arm around Peter, who leaned into his side without hesitation.
“Better?” he asked in an undertone.
“Yeah… Hungry.”
Peter grinned when Tony gave his shoulder a light shake, chuckling.
“Let’s get you fed then.”
“Mr Stark… Tony?” Peter piped up a few minutes later, while mashing potatoes.
“Hm?”
He cleared his throat nervously without looking up from the bowl. “Just—Thanks? Thanks for letting me be a part of your family,” he continued in a rush.
Tony didn’t have to imagine it—he knew what it was like not to have Peter in his life. Half the universe gone, and he had been one of the lucky ones having his best friend and the woman he loved at his side, welcoming a child… yet for all he had kept and gained, there was a gaping hole in the shape of one Peter Parker, impossible to fill. He had learned to live with the pain, but known he would never be free from it. And then he got him back.
Emotion rose in his chest and he moved the pan from the stove to pull Peter close, kissing the side of his head. “You’re my kid,” he said simply in the end. “And don’t you ever forget it, OK?”
Peter breathed a quiet laugh, abandoning the potatoes to better hug him.
There were going to be ups and downs, Tony knew, it was inevitable. But no matter what, they would work through them.