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Steve and Tony trudged into the kitchen, dirty and exhausted. Tony made a beeline to the wine cabinet, popping open a bottle and downing half of it in one drink. Steve broke into the refrigerator and grabbed a chocolate bar, stuffing the entire bar into his mouth and letting it sit there as he rested his forehead against the refrigerator.
It was silent for a few minutes until someone spoke.
“That wasn’t fun at all,” Tony said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he popped open his second bottle.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Steve grumped, finally swallowing all of the chocolate bar.
It was silent again.
“You know, I would’ve gotten him if you hadn’t tackled me--”
“YOU WERE GOING TO BLOW YOURSELF UP, TONY!”
“For your information, I had the suit on--”
“YOU STILL WOULD HAVE GOTTEN HURT! UNLIKE YOU, I CARE ABOUT THOSE SORTS OF THINGS--”
“I wasn’t going to get hurt! I would have been fine-!”
“IT DOESN’T MATTER, YOU ALWAYS DO THIS SHIT TONY!” Steve spun around, tired eyes wide open and angry. “YOU ALWAYS SACRIFICE YOURSELF!”
Tony put down the wine bottle and turned around to Steve, none of the sarcasm leaving his face. “Hey, it’s better than sacrificing other people, right?”
Steve groaned, rubbing his temple with his fingertips. He closed his eyes, needing a few moments to get control over his anger. “Not if it’s you.”
“Oh, so you’ll let someone else sacrifice themselves?”
“No, Tony, I--”
“Point proven,” Tony said with no satisfaction, and he picked up the wine bottle and started to drink from it.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair and groaned, louder this time. He tried to think of what would get to Tony. What would get to an insincere, stubborn genius.
He opened the refrigerator again and looked inside, looking for more chocolate with Tony drinking his wine bottle when something caught his eye.
A water bottle with a “P” written in sharpie on it.
“Tony, what if Peter follows in your footsteps?”
Tony paused from his second swig of the wine bottle, taking it away from his mouth and not answering Steve’s question.
Then he froze, his face paling. Steve’s anger faded just a bit as he asked, “What is it?”
“JARVIS, is Peter home?”
“No sir.”
Tony and Steve stared at each other in horror for a few moments before freaking out.
“Oh god--it’s fucking five pm--he’s been waiting at school for an hour--shit--”
“We’ve been arguing while Peter’s been hanging out at school oh god we’re horrible parents--”
Tony shoved the wine bottles back in the cabinet and Steve stuffed the chocolate into the back of the refrigerator and they raced out of the kitchen, exhaustion and anger (most of it) gone as they jumped into the elevator and punched in the numbers to the bottom and into the garage.
They sprinted to the car and Steve slammed his door shut as Tony rammed the keys into the car and smashed his foot on the gas pedal. He whirled his way out of the garage and into the street while Steve opened his phone and found about 10 text messages and missed calls from Peter.
Peter: where are you guys??? it’s 4:20
Peter: it’s really cold
Peter: i’m freezing
Peter: guys it’s 4:35
Peter: are you guys on a mission??
Peter: i might call ned’s mom
Peter: no i won’t do that nvm
Peter: the security guard is giving me weird looks
Peter: my phone is on 5%
Peter: ok well my phone is on 1%. i’ll be on the swings
Peter: hope the mission goes well
Steve sighed in frustration and put his phone away before getting punched in the chest by a seatbelt.
“Fuck all of you!” Tony screamed at the drivers around him as the lights turned red. Steve was greatly thankful that the cars were too loud for the drivers to hear Tony’s frustrated screaming.
It took about 10 minutes for Tony and Steve to get to Midtown Middle School and Tony sped into the empty parking lot, both surveying the area for a small skinny boy named Peter.
When they couldn’t find him at the curb, they sped to the recess field, where the swings were. Steve squinted and panic starting sinking in when he didn’t see anyone.
He looked back at Tony and Tony’s eyes were filled with terror.
Tony parked the car and they ran out, racing towards the field. When they got to the swings area, they searched for a backpack or a sneaker or a hair or anything.
But they didn’t find anything.
“Oh god---someone kidnapped our son--someone took him--this is all my fault,” Tony whispered, standing next to Steve with his hands holding his own face. “If we hadn’t argued he wouldn’t be gone--oh god--”
“Hey hey hey calm down, Peter’s probably ok, maybe he just tried to walk home or he asked Ned’s mom to pick him up and he’s hanging out at Ned’s house, it’s ok--”
“I’m sending out my Iron Man suits to find him,” Tony said, fear shaking his voice as he took out his phone and sent the message to JARVIS. “Oh god, it’s all our fault he’s gone,” Tony groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Ohhh goodddd.”
Steve was just as freaked out as Tony, but Tony needed comfort more than him right now, so he wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him tighter to him. “We’ll find him, don’t worry,” he murmured to Tony.
“And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier--”
“Our son is missing, Steve--”
“I don’t know, I thought it would help--”
“Missing, Steve--”
“Ok, ok, let’s just get in the car then and notify the police--”
Steve ushered Tony to the car and when they sat down, he took Tony’s hand. Tony squeezed his hand as they drove the car around. The clock read 5:30, and it was getting dark. The headlights flipped on and the blinding rays illuminated the parking lot. Steve had goosebumps on his arms from the chill outside, and if Peter was still outside, Steve was very concerned for his health.
As Steve watched out for any sign of Peter, he caught a figure about 20 feet away. The figure was small, skinny, and seemed to be wearing a backpack. They were walking pretty slowly, and they seemed to turn to the car.
“TONY STOP THE CAR!”
Tony halted the car as quick as he could and spun to Steve, desperate hope in his eyes. “What?!”
“I think Peter’s over there!” Steve was already getting out of the car as he yelled to Tony and he started running to where the figure was. As he got closer, he recognized more and more features; curly brown hair, sweater over button-down, jeans, blue backpack, lanky--
“Peter, is that you?!” he yelled out to him, Tony racing after him.
“Steve!?” he yelled back, and Steve kept running. When he got to him he wrapped him in a hug that probably broke all of his ribcage, lifting him up and squeezing him. When he finally put him down Peter was heaving for breath but he looked greatly relieved.
His cheeks, nose, and ears were red, and his eyes were watery--all probably from the cold. His gray jacket was open but he was shivering, and his jeans were scuffed. His backpack also looked dirtier than usual.
Tony reached them and pulled Peter into another hug, kissing the top of his head and holding him to his chest for longer than he usually did. “Sorry we didn’t get you kid, we had a mission,” Tony murmured into his hair. Peter shrugged in his embrace. “It’s fine.”
When Tony finally let him go, Peter smiled up at them with a wide smile of happiness. “I’ve been so cold. Oh and I tried to walk home. And a car hit me. That’s why I came here--”
“You got hit by a car--”
“It just scuffed me! My calf hurts and I hit my elbow and backpack but it could’ve been worse--”
“And you gave me and Steve a heart attack when you weren’t here--”
“Dad--!”
“Alright, alright,” Steve said, and Tony and Peter looked at him, their fight immediately ending. “Let’s just go home, alright?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Tony and Peter said at the same time.
“Then let’s go,” Steve replied.
As they walked back to the car, Steve heard Tony pester Peter about his limp and Peter shake him off. He shook his head and looked back at them fondly.
Hopefully no one will fall off a building tomorrow.