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“PETER PARKER STARK GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW,” Tony shouts at the top of his lungs from where he’s standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Fuck I sound like Howard,” He then whispers to himself, unfurrowing his brows and stopping his foot from tapping impatiently.
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“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK GET YOUR FUCKING ASS IN HERE”
Tony runs into the kitchen, his eyes wide in fear and his heart almost beating out of his chest. He stops at the doorway as far from his father as possible. Howards glares at him and points his finger at the space directly in front of him. Tony wordlessly obeys, his head lowered and his shoulders slumped. He trembles, his fingers coiled in his shirt.
“Mind explaining this shit?” Howards growls.
Tony keeps his head down and focuses on the ground. He can hear the piece of paper waving in the air furiously. Tony’s head is suddenly ripped upwards by his hair and he scrambles to grab the hand tangled in his hair. He’s forced to his tiptoes and he is now face to face with his fuming father.
“You will look at me when I speak to you. Do you understand?” Howard snarls yanking Tony’s hair eliciting a cry from the boy.
“Yes,” Tony whispers, both hands coiled around Howard’s wrist.
“What did you just say to me?” Howard barks, his face growing murderous.
“Yes sir,” Tony cries out as his hair is yanked again.
Howard rips his hands from Tony’s hair and the boy falls to the ground, his legs jelly. Tony looks up from the ground, a single tear slipping down his face. His father looks at him blankly before dropping the paper and leaving the room. Tony takes a deep breath as he glances at the report card. The single B is stark in comparison to the A’s covering the rest of the sheet.
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Tony slowly uncoils his hands and takes a deep breath. He shakes himself from the thoughts trying to weave themselves into his head. He looks up the stairs to where his son is now standing with a smile plastered on his face. Some of his front teeth are missing and yet his smile has never been wider.
“What is it, daddy?” Peter asks, his voice slurring.
Tony almost melts and momentarily forgets why he even yelled for Peter in the first place. The boy’s wide eyes and toothless smile have Tony’s lips forming a small smile of their own.
“Come down here please,” Tony says, his tone now light and devoid of anger.
Peter’s face is suddenly transforming into one not unlike a dog. His lips lower into a pout, his bottom lip covering his top. His golden eyes droop as does his posture. He shifts from foot to foot as he stares down at Tony.
“Right, right, sorry bud,” Tony whispers, quickly climbing the stairs.
As soon as he reaches the top, Peter is smiling again innocently. He hugs Tony around the leg as his father ruffles his hair.
“What was that for?” Tony questions with a smile.
“You seem upset,” Peter answers, his smile gone and his face drawn into seriousness.
Tony is stunned. He never could have dreamed of a better child. Of course Peter would be trying to comfort him even as he’s upset with him.
“Let’s go to your room Peter,” Tony mumbles, grabbing Peter’s small and fragile hand in his own.
Peter wordlessly follows his father down the hall and into his room. There are clothes and toys strewn everywhere.
“Didn’t Miss Potts help you clean your room yesterday?” Tony asks, moving various things out of the way so that he and Peter could sit on the bed.
“Yeah…” Peter replies, grinning at his father as he hops up on the bed.
Tony follows his lead and sits at the edge of the bed next to Peter.
“There’s something we need to talk about Peter,” Tony begins as his hands rub his jeans.
“Okay,” Peter hummed.
From the look on his son’s face, it was obvious he didn’t know that his teacher had ratted him out only moments before.
“When were you planning on telling me that you’re being bullied again?” Tony rasped.
No matter what Peter did, Tony could never find the strength to aim his anger at him. The boy was too loving for Tony to admonish him.
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“Are you kidding me with this Anthony? You’re being bullied?” His father huffs, agitation marking his face.
“God, look at what a pansy I’ve raised for a son,” He says under his breath, pacing the floor.
Tony is standing in the center of the kitchen, holding himself. His face is already bruised, eye swollen shut.
“You do well to listen to this: Stark men are made of iron,” He says, pointing at Tony.
Howard stops his pacing and stands before his son, bending down to his height.
“I don’t know how much of a man you are, but as far as I’m concerned, you're a Stark. Which means you do not cry and you do not let bullies make an embarrassment of you and me,” Howards spits, his face pinched in annoyance.
At Tony’s lack of response, he continues with, “You hear me?”
Tony takes that as his cue and pushes his bully right then and there. Howard almost falls flat on his back, his mouth open in shock.
Tony hears the slap reverberates off the walls before he feels it.
He almost blacks out on the kitchen floor.
But, he doesn’t cry.
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“Daddy?” Peter asks, breaking Tony from his thoughts.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…” Peter says, hair falling into his face.
“Hey, you have no reason to be sorry. Okay? None of this is your fault. I just want you to know that you can come to me for this stuff, okay?” Tony insists to his son who seems to already be a secretive seven-year-old.
“I know, Daddy,” Peter replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Peter, why are they bullying you?” Tony softly asks.
“Because you’re my Daddy.” He says, looking away from Tony.
“What do you mean?”
“They say you’re bad and I...I try to tell them you’re not, but they say all this bad stuff and I try to ignore them but I can’t!” Peter yells, tears sliding down his face.
Tony is shell-shocked. He didn’t think children Peter’s age even knew about his work, much less that they would bully his son over it. The weapons trading business is an ugly one, but he surely didn’t expect seven-year-olds to know anything about it.
“Hey, hey it’s okay I promise. You know I’m not bad, right? That’s all that matters to me Petey,” Tony urges, using his shirt to wipe the tears from Peter’s face.
“Kids will say all kinds of things, Peter. They’re just jealous they don’t have as cool of a dad as you do.”
Instead of eliciting a laugh, Peter just nods. To him, that’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Peter, just remember that just because these kids say something doesn’t mean it's true. Just stick with Ned, and ignore the rest. I will always love you and I will never sit by while someone tries to hurt you. Your teacher will be keeping a close eye on you from now on and she’s gonna keep these kids from bothering you. The moment something happens again though, you let me know. Okay?”
“Okay,” Peter smiles and sideways hugs his dad.
“Pinky promise?” Tony asks, holding his pinky out.
“Pinky promise,” Peter affirms, linking his pinky with his dad’s.