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The madness started, like it always seemed to, with Peter Parker.
Tony didn’t have to open his eyes or wander down to the kitchen to know the ominous clanging sound, the noises brought about by mishandling pots and pans and the following string of curse words were created by none other than the sticky boy himself.
He opened them, anyway, though, and carefully and gently pulled his arm away from Pepper, eventually crawling out from under the covers and putting his feet on the floor. Tony shoved his feet into his kitten slippers and his slipped his robe over his black t-shirt and his flannel pajamas.
Both had been Christmas presents from Rhodey. Joke was on him. Tony actually liked the cat pattern that repeated on the robe.
Joke was on Tony, too, though and that was made clear when he stepped into his kitchen and saw a piglet sniffing around on his floor. Peter was sat up on the countertop sipping on one of the yogurt tubes that was supposed to be for Morgan, swinging his legs and working way too hard to appear innocent.
“Oh, hey Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “What’re you doing up?”
“Kid…” said Tony. He wandered further into the kitchen, his robe hanging lose off his shoulders and billowing behind him like a cap. He pinched his temple. “Why is there a pig in my kitchen?”
“What? A pig…?” asked Peter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Stark.”
The pig snorted as it sniffed around some more. Tony looked at Peter as if to say I-told-you-so.
“Oh, her? That’s Charlotte,” said Peter. “She’s not a pig. She’s a dog.”
Tony crossed his arms and titled his head. “I have eyes, Peter.”
“Well Charlie thinks she’s a dog.”
“I don’t see how that would matter seeing how I already told you and Morgan both no dogs,” said Tony. “She can’t stay here.”
“Aww, Mr. Stark. Why?” asked Peter, with the doe eyes. He jumped off the counter, leaving the empty yogurt tube behind, and bent down to scoop up the piglet. He cradled her in his arms, then looked up at Tony. “It’s pretty ideal if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you, and how exactly is this ideal?”
Peter scratched the pig’s head and she snorted again, wiggling her nose and spiking Tony’s annoyance levels. So the baby pig was cute. She still couldn’t stay at the lake house. Tony was putting his foot down. He was very determined.
“You guys have a big yard and a house away from the city,” said Peter. “And Gerald needs a buddy, right? Plus Morgan – “
As if on cue, there was a shriek as tiny feet pitter-pattered into the kitchen. Tony closed his eyes and shook his head and wished he could use the infinity stones to go back in time just once more, to that moment he told the kids no dog. Maybe then Peter wouldn’t have thought it was necessary to bring home a pig.
“Is she ours?” asked Morgan, petting the Charlotte. “We’re keeping her?”
Tony released a heavy, long breath, wondering what Pepper was going to think. “Sure.”
“YES!” Morgan did a little hop and dance. “This is so cool! Peter, what’s her name?”
“Charlotte,” said Peter. “Like from Charlotte’s Web.”
“I love that book!” shouted Morgan, as she dropped to the floor to play with their new pet.
“I know,” said Peter. He put Charlotte back down on the floor, then straightened up and looked at Tony. “I did, too. It was my favorite… god, I must’ve made May read it to me about a thousand times growing up.”
Tony smiled, in spite of himself, as he watched Peter drop to the floor and sit next to Morgan. He remembered a time that was worse than having a pig run around on his kitchen floor. He’d never quite forget it, the ache of losing a child, and even though Peter was back and in front of him, petting a pig and laughing, that pain never truly went away.
He didn’t feel it fully, not anymore, but it echoed. It rebounded in his nightmares, those nights he woke up, convinced he was still in the past, or worse, a future where Thanos snapped both his children away.
Tony supposed a pet pig named Charlie wasn’t so bad, especially when she lit up both their faces and it was evident that they were real and laughing and solid, not blowing into the horizon on a horrid, windy day.
“Pepper,” said Tony, the next morning, when they both woke up. “We have a pet pig named Charlotte now.”
“Of course we do,” she said, not surprised in the slightest.
There really wasn’t anything that could surprise her anymore.
“Guess that means you’re building her a pen outside today,” Pepper told him, as she slipped out of bed.
Tony sighed and pulled the comforter a little closer. He guessed that meant he was waking up Peter early and having him do a majority of the work while he sat in his favorite outdoor chair and watched.
Retirement treated him well.
*
As it turned out, Gerald didn’t want a new farm animal buddy.
Gerald wanted to be the only farm animal, and when Peter tried to introduce Charlotte as his new sibling, he snorted and growled and stomped his feet. Peter quickly retreated, holding Charlotte close to his chest, protecting her with both arms.
“Gerald’s not very friendly,” he told him. Charlotte stuck her head up in the air and oinked in agreement, while Tony took a moment to appreciate that was real life and not one of Peter’s strange dreams that he insisted telling Tony about. “Maybe you should get Morgan to sing him the getting along song.”
“Please don’t,” said Tony. “So help me god if you get her singing that song again, I will push you in the lake. I just got it out of my head.”
“Sounds like you need it more than Gerald, Mr. Stark.”
Tony pointed his finger at Peter. “Don’t.”
Peter broke into a grin, and, before Tony could stop him, started humming the infamous song under his breath. Tony gave him a gentle shove, cursing his luck that the lake was too far away, and Charlotte snorted at him.
“Have you told Charlie about bacon yet?”
Peter gasped and covered her ears with his left hand. “Don’t you dare.”
Tony laughed, and shook his head. “We’ll build her a pen on the other side of the yard. Away from Gerald and his foot stomping.”
Peter nodded, giving Gerald a solid glare before turning his back and marching off towards the other side of the house.
They spent the rest of the day outside, both of them working together on constructing a pen for Charlotte. It was a good day for it. The kind of day just at the end of winter, where it isn’t exactly warm, but the sun still shined and occasionally a breeze brought with it the promise of spring.
Charlotte wandered around while they worked, eating the grass and snorting at nothing but the air.
They adjusted the hedges on the gate, then both took a step back to admire their work.
“We did good, kid,” said Tony, resting his metal hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he said. “You know, Mr. Stark, you could have a whole farm yard out here… we could get some chickens and cows and –“
“Nope.”
“Aww why not?”
“Do you wanna quit school and Spider-Man to take care of chickens?”
Peter paused, and Tony couldn’t believe the boy was actually thinking about it. That didn’t last long, though. He sighed, and admitted that no, he guessed not.
“Still need more animals, though,” muttered Peter, as they walked towards the front door of the house, with Charlie following from behind.
*
“MR. STARK!”
He smiled, and listened to the thumping, the feet pounding on the floor up above, as he sat in the basement and relaxed on the couch. He had no idea what was happening up in the living room, but he figured it was probably Charlotte related.
He took his time climbing the stairs and going to the living room, where Morgan was lying belly down on the couch, laughing uncontrollably, and Peter was chasing Charlotte around the living room. She had a piece of paper in her mouth and, for the muttered words coming out of Peter’s mouth, Tony figured it was probably an important one.
Charlotte went under the table and Peter collapsed on the floor. “Come on, Charlie, just please give it back.”
Charlotte grunted and retreated further under the table, leaving Peter no choice but to extend his hand and try to get the paper from her mouth. When he finally managed it, it was only because it ripped in half.
Peter groaned as he stood up, waving the half piece of paper around, and giving Tony a pitiful look.
“Mr. Stark,” he said. “Charlie eats everything!”
“She’s a pig, Pete,” said Tony.
“But this was my homework.”
Tony laughed and ignored the indignant look Peter gave him. Couldn’t help it. Never thought he’d see the day he was happy he’d caved in and let them have the pig and Peter was the one who had to pay for it, in one way or another.
“Can you please have Ned record it when you tell your teacher a pig ate your homework?”
*
A rumble of thunder woke Tony up from his nightmare.
He took a breath, then released and opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of Morgan standing at his bedside, holding a book.
“Daddy,” she whispered. “Charlie’s afraid of the storm… can you read us a story?”
Tony tried to control his breathing, tried his best to keep his nightmares and his anxieties and his warped way of viewing the world from effecting Morgan, who should have to carry none of that around with her.
He used his prosthetic arm to prop himself up. “Are you sure it’s Charlie that’s afraid of the storm?”
“Yeah.”
“Mo it’s okay to be afraid –“
“-Dad,” whisper Morgan, with a roll of her eyes, giving Tony a terrible flash forward to the future when Morgan would inevitably become a teenager. “Charlie’s under my bed, squealing and she won’t come out.”
“Right,” said Tony, getting out of bed, and going through his routine of putting on his cat slippers and his robe. “Let’s go read a book to a pig.”
Morgan slipped her hand into his and they walked down the hallway, into Morgan’s bedroom, where Charlie was under the bed and Peter was lying on top of it.
Tony looked down at Morgan. “Pete’s here? He couldn’t just read the book?”
“No,” said Morgan. “Books are only soothing if grownups read them, besides, Peter’s afraid too.”
Peter’s face was pretty pale, but Tony knew it didn’t have so much to do with the storm as it did the noise the storm created. Thunderstorms made the kid’s senses go haywire. Tony took the book from Morgan’s hands and got settled on her bed next to Peter.
They situated themselves so Tony was the icing in the cookie sandwich. He wrapped an arm around Peter, hoping to help ground him when he was sure his head filled with noise. With his free hand, he opened the book. He opened his mouth to read the first line, but was interrupted by a loud squeal from under the bed.
“You have to read, dad,” said Morgan. “It will calm her down.”
“And you’re sure Charlotte’s Web would call her down? You know what this book is about, right?”
“It has a happy ending.”
“It would calm me down,” said Peter. He dropped his head against Tony’s shoulder, and held him a bit tighter and mentally kicked himself for not having the forethought to spidey-proof the apartment before now.
“Okay,” said Tony. “Alright.”
So, he read them Charlotte’s Web as the storm rolled through, and eventually, quieted down. Charlie eventually wandered out from under the bed, and Morgan, the child who was still awake, lifted her up on the bed before snuggling up to Tony and falling asleep herself.
Since he was the icing, he stuck for the night, but he had no problems with that. He shut the book, sat it on his lap, and let himself doze off to the steady sound of raining hitting the house.
When the nightmares woke him up again, it was Charlie that pulled him away from his rapid beating heart, from his fears.
He blinked at her. The pig sitting at the end of his daughter’s bed. She oinked at him and Tony went back to sleep, having been brought back to reality.
Only real life would be strange enough to grant him a pig.