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“Okay, don’t panic,” Tony breathes, grabbing his jacket off the hooks and balancing his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he talks on the phone. “But I need your help.”
“Tones, you know I just left for Philly, right? I’m not back for two weeks,” Rhodey says, uncertainty coloring his voice. “Is everything okay?”
Tony curses under his breath, pulling the jacket on quickly. “I can’t get a babysitter. Nobody’s available to watch Peter and he’s got a nasty fever and I need to run and grab him some meds.”
There’s a long sigh from the other end of the phone.
“Daddy?” Peter calls out from the living room. “I don’t feel so good.”
His voice is thick and phlegmy from the sickness, but his voice wavers like he might cry. Tony quickly says goodbye to Rhodey, hangs up the phone, and shoves his shoes on.
“I’m so sorry, baby, but you’re going to have to come to the store with me, okay? I’ll make it super quick, but I can’t get you a babysitter on such short notice,” Tony says, walking over to the couch where Peter’s tucked under a soft blanket, looking even smaller and younger.
His baby face is flushed and his eyes are misty, staring up at Tony in sadness.
He’s only four years old, there’s no way Tony can leave him home alone especially not when his baby is so sick. As sucky as it is, Tony’s going to have to drag his sick kid out to the store to get him some medicine and foods for sickness like crackers and soup.
“Sorry, bubba, we’ve gotta get you some medicine,” Tony murmurs, gently pushing Peter’s hair back.
Peter’s face scrunches up, eyes blinking tiredly. “Doctors?”
“No doctors, just to the corner store, okay?”
Tony doesn’t bother changing Peter out of his little Thor pajamas or even bother arguing about taking the old, soft blanket out of the house, he just swaddles his baby and lifts him into his arms, making sure his coat is secure.
Peter tucks his head against the crook of Tony’s neck, and sniffles sadly, hot skin clammy to the touch.
Unfortunately, Tony doesn’t have a car either, so they have to walk the few miles to the nearest corner store. Or, well, Tony walks. Peter stays cradled against his chest.
By the time they make it to the store, Tony’s arms are numb and his own skin is hot and sweaty despite the cold winter wind biting at their skin.
Unsurprisingly, the campus corner store is busy for a Friday night, filled with dozens of other university students trying to get all the things they needs before the stores are closed for a few days for the holidays.
Despite wanting to put Peter down and only hold his hand because his arms are numb and his shoulders ache, he wouldn’t subject his poor sick baby to having to walk on the floor unless he absolutely has to.
So, he walks around the corner store, searching the aisles for what he needs and putting them in the basket he struggles to balance.
Once he’s collected everything they need, including some extra Gatorade for himself just in case he manages to catch Peter’s cold.
“That’ll be forty dollars,” the cashier says, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Got my own little ones at home, colds suck, huh?”
Tony smiles back at him, awkwardly shifting Peter to the side to grab his wallet. Except his wallet isn’t in his pocket.
“Oh shit,” he mutters, shifting his kid again to check his other pockets. “Shit, I must’ve dropped my wallet somewhere.”
Setting Peter down on the floor with a gentle kiss to the temple, Tony turns to the cashier, still patting his pockets. “I’m so sorry, I swear I had it just a minute ago, I-”
“Yeah, go ahead, man. I’ve got time,” the cashier says easily, shrugging.
Tony kneels on the ground by Peter. “You stay right here, okay? I just have to find my wallet. You know the rules, right?”
Peter nods, red-rimmed eyes wide as he looks up at his dad with a fever-hazy glaze.
Hurrying off through the store again, Tony searches the floor for his wallet. Between all of the shifting of Peter and the basket, and all of the walking and movements trying to get everything they needed, it’s not surprising it slipped out somewhere.
As he passes through aisle after aisle, pushing past all the other college students, Tony starts losing hope. He can’t find his wallet anywhere. And if he doesn’t have his wallet, he can’t pay for the things Peter needs to get better.
“Goddammit,” he mutters, shoving past another group of students who are looking over the beers in the fridge. But it’s hard to find his wallet and with everybody here, he wouldn’t be surprised if somebody stole it.
He gives up. Maybe he can take Peter home and then run back here with cash if he can find any at home. Either way, it’s pointless to search the store.
“I couldn’t-” he starts telling the cashier when he gets back. But Peter’s not waiting at the cash anymore. “Where’d he go? I thought you were keeping an eye on him?”
The cashier turns with wide eyes. “He was there a second ago, man. I turned around for less than a minute, I swear. He was just there.”
The panic hits him like a tsunami.
Peter’s gone, peter’s gone, peter’s gone, peter’s gone, peter’s gone-
“Peter!” he shouts, spinning in a circle but he can’t see the mop of unruly brown curls through the thicket of people. Peter’s small, just a little kid. “Peter!”
The cashier, obviously trying his best, grabs his phone and speaks over the speakers. “If anybody sees a child with brown hair, brown eyes, wearing pajamas and a blanket, take him to the front of the store. If Peter’s listening, your dad’s looking for you.”
Thankfully, plenty of the people around the store start looking around as Tony panics.
“Peter, baby, where are you?” he calls out, heart seizing and hands shaking. His baby’s gone. “Peter!”
“I saw him by the front entrance,” a young lady says. She’s holding two twenties in her hand with a soft smile. “I saw you lost your wallet. I’ll cover it for you.”
The cashier passes the bags over to Tony who’s never been in shock before, but he wonders if this is what it feels like.
“Go, find your kid. If anybody sees him, I’ll let you know,” the cashier says, shooing him off.
Tony takes off towards the front entrance, grocery bag swinging in his grip. Fuck, he just wants to find his kid. His poor sick kid who probably wandered off and is scared and alone and sick and it’s cold outside-
He’s gone he’s gone he’s gone he’s gone he’s gone-
“Peter!” he shouts, voice cracking as tears fill his eyes. This is a parent’s worst nightmare. He was only gone for minutes, mere minutes, and his kid knows better than to walk off. So, so-
Peter also knows, very clearly, that if a stranger tries anything, to scream as loud as he can. If somebody tried to take his kid, everyone in that store would’ve been alerted.
It’s cold outside as he pushes open the door and takes off at a jog down the street, back the way they came. Maybe Peter wanted to go home. Maybe he thought that’s where Tony had gone. Maybe he was tired and thought he could make it back to their apartment on his own.
“Peter!” A sob escapes his throat, harshly battling the freezing wind that threatens to choke him as he pushes forward down the street.
But there’s no sign of his baby anywhere. No sign of the old blanket or Peter’s messy curls or his little Thor pajamas. Nothing.
He pushes his numb legs to carry him faster down the street. Peter was tired and sick, there’s no way he could’ve made it so far in such a short amount of time, but he has to be sure. He’d beat himself up if he turned back.
But campus is big and there’s so many streets and Peter could’ve gone anywhere.
“Are you okay?” somebody calls out. He slows down, knowing he must look like a wreck as another sob bubbles up in his throat.
“My kid- I lost my kid and I-”
The woman offers a kind smile. “Little kid, curly hair, terrible cold?”
Tony could’ve thrown up with relief. “You’ve seen him? Where’d he go? Please, I’m his dad, I swear I only turned around for a second. He was- He was right there and I-”
“Yeah, he’s in here, c’mon,” the woman says, tipping her head towards the building behind her.
She leads him into the building, a public library, and Peter’s right there. Right fucking there.
“Holy fuck,” Tony breathes when he sees his kid. The poor boy is sleeping away on a beanbag chair, sucking on his thumb.
“He was outside the building crying. I took him inside because I was worried about him getting a cold, but I guess it’s a little late for that,” she says, laughing quietly. “He wanted to go find you again, but I didn’t want him going out by himself, and I have a job, you know?”
Tony doesn’t respond for a long moment, focusing on breathing and trying not to keel over and die.
“Thank you for getting him. I don’t- I didn’t think he would just leave like that. I thought- I thought he was gone. I just- I-”
Peter sneezes, cutting off Tony’s rambling, and he blinks his bambi eyes open at them. He smiles tiredly. “Daddy?”
Tony kneels down in front of the beanbag chair, gently brushing back Peter’s curls. “You shouldn’t have ran away like that. I was worried sick about you.”
His baby, the innocent little kid he is, smiles through his fever-glazed expression. He digs into his coat pocket and pulls out Tony’s worn wallet.
“I found it,” he says, holding it up like it’s made of diamonds.
“Thank you, bambi, but please, for the sake of my health, tell me before you run off like that. You can’t just leave without telling me where you’re going.”
Peter flushes, whether it’s bashfulness or because of the fever, Tony doesn’t know. “’m sorry.”
Tony just sighs and presses a kiss to Peter’s forehead, just beyond grateful that his baby’s safe and okay.
“Thank you,” he tells the woman again. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped him. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”
“Just be easy on Peter. Both of you need to go home and get some rest,” she says, smiling at them. “I’m May, by the way, if you need anything else, I’m always around.”
Tony says thank you at least a dozen more times before he lifts Peter into his arms again and starts the trek back to the corner store.
The cashier’s shoulders immediately slump in relief. “Thank god you found him.”
“Thank you for all your help. I just wanted to let you know he was safe.”
“Now, get him home, get some rest. Both of you. Get out of the cold.”
*
“Medicine, check. Chicken noodle soup, check. Lots of water, check. What am I missing?” Tony says.
“Movie?” Peter says, looking up with a dopey smile. “Wanna watch ‘aw ‘atrol.”
“Paw Patrol?”
Peter nods, tugging his blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Mmhm.”
Tony finally lets himself rest on the couch as well and almost instantly, Peter’s crawled up to him and cuddled up against his chest.
“I love you, baby, but if you ever scare me like that again, I’m going to send you to Philly to live with Rhodey.”
“Unc’e Rho’ey?”
“Of course you’re not even angry about that, but I swear you’d hate living in Philly.”
“’kay, be quiet, ‘aw ‘atrol is starting.”
Tony rolls his eyes in amusement before pressing a kiss to his baby’s warm but cooling down forehead.
“Daddy?” Peter says, looking up at him. “Love you too.”
Tony smiles, blinking back tears. It’s been an emotional day.
“I love you more.”