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“Stick close to me.” Tony whispered to his son as they made their way through the back entrance of large venue, both Starks clad in matching black suits. They had taken the back entrance to avoid the hundreds of reporters outside the main entrance, and Tony knew from experience that an onslaught like that was not good to experience as a child.
There were little people around in the foyer, most of the guests already inside. There were some security guards and a few others disappearing into bathrooms, but other than that it was rather empty. Happy trailed behind them, like he would be doing the entire night, more so because Peter was with them.
Tony looked down to his son, who looked a little unsure, nervous. Sympathetic, Tony rubbed the boy’s arm.
“I know you’re not feeling well, it’ll only be a few hours. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Dad.” Peter replied, sounding a little agitated at Tony’s apology. “I said I’m fine, I wanted to come.”
Just last night, his son had been on the brink of tears because he felt so sick. He had come to Tony’s room at almost three in the morning, gently calling for him in the way he had for years.
When Peter got sick, he got sick. It was always a tough ride for anyone unfortunate to be around the teen when he was feeling under the weather. Tony always hated when his baby got sick, because the sickness always seemed to do a number on him whether it be a simple cold or stomach flu. No matter how mild, it left Peter miserable every time.
Along with that, Peter’s fear of vomiting shook things up a bit as well.
In conclusion, Peter loathed being sick.
Tony had spent the rest of night cuddling with his son in his bed, who in turn had tried his hardest to keep his tears at bay. Eventually, he caved and told Tony that his stomach was hurting.
So, Tony felt horrible that he dragged his son here. He hadn’t wanted to, but Peter insisted. Tony knew it was most likely because he felt unwell that he wanted to stay around him, as he got clingier than usual when sick. That, and there was no one available to watch him, and even though Peter was a teenager Tony didn’t want him to be alone while he was sick.
So, here they were. Tony was already regretting it.
“Tell me if you feel any worse, yeah?” Tony stopped his son just in front of the male bathrooms, both hands on his shoulders. “Go to the bathroom before we go inside.”
“I don’t need to go.” Peter whined, just short of stomping his foot. “I’m not a baby.”
“No one said you were. Just go, please. I don’t know if they’ll be time to go inside.” Tony replied.
After a second, Peter rolled his eyes and disappeared into the bathroom with an audible huff. Tony decided not to scold his kid’s attitude for the moment, fully aware of the stressful situation at hand.
When Peter emerged a few minutes later, he looked considerably grouchier than before. That didn’t seem to stop him from slotting himself into his father’s side, allowing the billionaire’s arm to wrap around his shoulders in a side hug.
Then, he felt the teen’s forehead, wincing when it was warm. Peter whined and swatted his hand away with a quiet “I’m fine, Dad.”
“I know you are.” Tony kept his sigh at bay. “Come on, we’re going in now. You ready?”
“Yes.” Peter hissed angrily, then frowned when he saw Tony’s warning stare. “Yes, Dad. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, bud.” Tony kissed Peter’s temple to show he wasn’t angry before he straightened up.
Peter gave no protest as they began to make their way to the gala. Tony subconsciously tightened his hold around the boy as security nodded in greeting, Tony doing the same with a small quirk of the lips.
When they entered, Tony was hit in the face with a flurry of bright lights and loud chatter. Tony plastered his press-smile on his face as people swarmed around them the moment they entered. He felt Peter tense beside him and push closer, which led Tony to rub his arm in hopes of comfort. This was the kid’s first time being at one of these things, and Tony really wished it could have happened when he was older and not sick.
Various faces Tony recognised swarmed his vision, all fake smiles and obvious glances towards his son. Without drawing too much attention to it, he gently pushed himself in front of his kid and took the brunt of the chatter.
Many people introduced themselves to Peter, who would reach out to shake their hands and immediately retreat into the safety of Tony’s hold. The wives of the businessmen would smile gently and coo every time it happened, and Tony was pretty sure Peter didn’t even notice how many people were endeared by him.
Eventually, the continuous conversations with people ended up with them at the bar. Tony didn’t want Peter anywhere near any bar ever, but Tony was finding it difficult to escape. So, instead, he had Peter stand in front of him.
Tony’s hands looped over the teen’s shoulders and joined at his chest, so that way, Tony could see him at all times and keep him in close proximity. The only thing he couldn’t see was Peter’s face.
“How are you feeling?” Tony asked quietly when they were finally left alone for a short while, craning his neck to see Peter’s face.
“I’m okay.” Peter replied, almost too quietly to be heard over the loud chatter and music. He looked pale, paler than he had half an hour ago, and immediately Tony was worried. Well, more worried than he had been before. “How much longer?”
“Still a little bit longer.” Tony sighed and kissed the side of Peter’s head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you. You should have gone to Ned’s.”
“Dad, seriously, I’m fine.” Peter tried to reassure but didn’t sound very convincing. Tony looked at him again, and it was obvious the boy was uncomfortable.
“Bambi, be honest with me. On a scale one to ten, how bad do you feel?”
Peter hesitated before answering. “Seven.”
Tony nodded, then had Peter turn around so he was facing him. Now that he could see his son’s face properly, the dark bags were more obvious against the pale skin. Peter’s eyes looked a little teary, which made Tony feel even more horrible for bringing him. Bad parenting.
The damn puppy eyes. They got him every time.
“Do you want something to eat?” Tony asked, the food table visible a few feet from them. “Or to drink?”
“I’m not legal.”
Tony laughed and rolled his eyes fondly. “I didn’t mean alcohol, kiddo. Lemonade or something. I’m sure they’ll have some in here somewhere.”
“Water?” Peter had a sheepish smile on his face, though it faded pretty quickly. “I’m not hungry, though.”
“That’s okay, I’ll get you some water.”
Thankful that they were close to the bar, Tony made his way over and grabbed the attention of the bartender. She smiled kindly at him and Peter before she spoke.
“What can I get you, Mr. Stark?”
“Just a water, thanks.”
The bartender eyed him a moment before nodding. Soon enough, Tony was pushing a full cup of water into Peter’s hands. As he was doing so, someone called out to Tony, which made him curse quietly. He shouldn’t have thought they’d be alone and unbothered for too long; eyes had been watching them the entire time anyways.
Soon, Tony was engrossed in a boring conversation with some random old man. He was hardly paying attention, mostly watching Peter and making sure he drank the water. Every few minutes, Peter would take a tentative sip, as if drinking it was the last thing he wanted to be doing. Eventually the boy placed the still half full cup on the bar and held his head for a few moments.
“Are you even listening to me, Stark?” The man Tony had forgotten the name of snapped, which had him rolling his eyes.
“No, not really.”
Disgruntled, the man left with a huff. Tony shook his head in annoyance, eyes already back on Peter.
To his alarm, Peter looked worse.
“Dad?” Peter asked before Tony could speak, voice wobbling. Tony winced. “Can we sit down?”
“Of course, bubba.” Tony’s eyes scanned the room. “Hap?”
“Just over there.”
Tony followed Happy through the crowd, pointedly ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him as they headed to the tables up the back of the room. From what he could see, there was one chair left in the very back.
Before anyone could take it, Tony had Peter sit down. Except, Peter whined and tried to stand up again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t leave.” Peter mumbled; one hand firmly clenched around Tony’s sleeve. “Please.”
“I’m not leaving.” Tony smiled a little and pushed some hair out of Peter’s eyes. A group of women cooed from nearby, but Tony ignored them the way he ignored all the eyes on them. He wasn’t sure if Peter noticed that people watched their every move, but he hoped he didn’t. “Come on, sit.”
Tony found himself seated, then pulled Peter to sit down on his lap. The boy didn’t protest at all, and instead rested his head back on Tony’s shoulder with a quiet whimper that only Tony could hear. Happy watched on, the tiniest amount of concern appearing in his stony expression.
“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?” Tony asked as he wrapped his arms around Peter’s stomach to begin gently massaging.
“No. Not yet.” Peter replied, then turned his head. “My head hurts, Dad.”
“We’re going home.” Tony looked at Happy as he said it, who nodded and started talking into his radio. “How’s a movie night sound?”
“Not yet, Dad.” Peter mumbled. “You can’t leave.”
“Yes, I can.” Tony continued to rub Peter’s stomach, not sure if it was making Peter feel worse or better. He hoped Peter would speak up if it was worse. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do. I hate these things. I can’t believe you talked me into letting you come.”
Before Peter could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them.
“Tony!” Dread filled his stomach as he realised exactly who’s voice that was, and immediately sat up straighter and held Peter tighter. Peter shifted to look at who was calling for his father, then placed his hands over Tony’s and squeezed. Tony stopped his movements immediately. “It’s so nice to see you!”
“Stone.” Tony replied just as enthusiastically, aware of Happy’s presence beside them. Peter shifted again, his foot knocking against Tony’s shin. “Oh, how great it is to see you too.”
Sarcasm dripped off his tone as he also shifted in the hopes that he could make Peter more comfortable.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Tiberius smirked and tilted his head. The look alone made Tony feel sick. “I am yet to meet Mini Stark. What was your name again? Pietro, Pedro?”
Tiberius’s sick eyes zoned in on Peter, and Tony hugged his boy tighter.
“Peter, sir.” Peter replied, quiet and timid.
“Ah, Peter!” Tiberius bellowed and offered a hand. Peter rose his own, but Tony stopped him before he could. Stone didn’t seem fazed as he retracted his hand and began to talk. “You’re looking a little pale there. Not feeling so well are we, Stark? I’m surprised your Daddy brought you here, this isn’t the place for a kid, you know. You shouldn’t have him on your lap like that, that just screams unprofess-”
“That’s enough from you.” Tony snapped and glanced down to Peter. He looked even paler than before, if not, greener than before. That was not a good sign, and from the way Peter continued to shift, he was feeling worse. “Come on, bub, up we get. We’re leaving.”
“Oh, how cute.” Stone drawled, then rolled his eyes. “You’re so cold towards me.”
“I wonder why that is.” Tony growled, voice low and deep.
“You seem to forget all those nights we had together, when you would scream my n-”
Tony’s eyes bulged in horror at what he was hearing. “Excuse me? Not in front of my child.”
“Why not? He should know how much of a slut you are.” Stone cackled and stepped closer. Tony felt Peter shrink away, which lit up the anger in him almost immediately. “He’s going to find out eventually. That is how he was born, isn’t it?”
In a flash, Tony stood, positioning his son behind him so he was out of sight. Peter whined in protest; Tony just able to see a hand go to his stomach before he turned around. He was dying to comfort his child, but first, Stone had to be dealt with.
Onlookers began to gather around them as Tony got up in Stone’s face, one of Peter’s hands gripping onto the back of his blazer.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you son of a bitch.” Tony growled, practically nose to nose with Stone. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time he’d been so close to the other man. He’d been closer, despite how much he regretted it. God, he was disgusting. “You don’t know anything about me. You do not talk about my child like that. If I hear my son’s name come out of your mouth one more time, you’ll regret ever turning up to this shit show.”
“What a great example for your kid, hm?” Stone laughed; Tony already able to see security heading their way. “Stark men, always so high and mighty. Using anger and threats to get what they want. You’re exactly like your father; I won’t be surprised if Peter turns out exactly like the both of you. That kind of attitude will give you enemies, and I’d assume you have a few?”
Before Tony could even refute the statement, Stone continued.
“Afghanistan, hm? You left your own son behind to go show off some missile. Does that sound like Howard Stark to y-”
“You’re going to regret saying that.” Tony scowled, then shoved the man back as hard as he could. Satisfied when Stone stumbled, Happy along with some other security guards advanced towards the man when he was caught off guard.
“What the fuck?” Stone yelled in shock as his limbs were grabbed. “Get the fuck off me!”
When he was sure Stone was restrained, Tony turned away and tended to his son, who to his horror, had started crying somewhere between now and Stone’s arrival. He bent down a little to wipe away his baby’s tears, trying to figure out what was going on in the fifteen-year old’s mind.
“I want to go home.” Peter whimpered and clutched onto him. “Dad, I want to go.”
“We’re going, Bambi, we’re going.” Tony shushed him gently, before he wrapped his arm around Peter and turned. Stone was gone, as were the other security guards, Happy waiting patiently for his signal. When Tony gave it, the man began clearing a path for the two distressed Starks. “It’s okay, Underoos, it’s okay. We’re going home now.”
As they walked, Tony continued to whisper reassurances as eyes followed them on their way out. Tears had welled up in his own eyes at some point, but he ignored them and continued to project his full attention onto his crying son.
Some people had the decency to look sympathetic, but most looked disgusted. Anger pooled in his stomach as they weaved through the crowd, knocking into multiple people who refused to get out of the way. Finally, they were back in the foyer, which was as empty as it had been before.
“Do you need the bathroom before we go?” Tony asked, and got a shake of the head in return. He had asked mostly because of the colour of Peter’s face. “Okay, let’s go.”
Happy escorted them outside, both adults surveying the area as they did so. There was no one but the security guards around that they could see, which did little to calm Tony’s nerves. He let Happy open the door for them and gently nudged his sick son in first, then got in himself. Peter sat in the middle and curled up by his father’s side the moment Tony was seated, his face still that dangerous shade of green.
“Are you sure you’re not going to be sick?” Tony asked as he wiped some tears away, then did Peter’s buckle for him. The crying was probably making Peter’s stomach feel worse.
“I’m o-okay.” Peter whined and clutched tighter. “I just w-want to g-go home.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Tony shushed him gently and gave Happy the okay to drive. He was sure the man wouldn’t appreciate Peter vomiting in his car, since that was something that looked dangerously likely by the colour of the teen’s face, and if Tony was honest, he didn’t want to deal with it either. But it wasn’t Peter’s fault. “Come here, bud. It’s gonna be fine.”
“My head.” Peter’s voice rose in pitch as he buried his face in Tony’s chest. “It h-hurts so bad!”
“How long?” Tony asked, a little afraid of the answer.
“A-all night.”
“You should have told me.” He rubbed his son’s back as Happy pulled out onto the main road, a few bumps in the tarmac making Peter’s distressed sobs rise. The amount of guilt Tony was feeling right now was consuming him. He should never have taken Peter there. God, he’d heard everything Stone said. “I’ll give you some medicine once we get home. Then bedtime, yeah?”
“Mmm.” Peter moaned and cuddled tighter. It seemed his condition was quickly getting worse.
Tony just hugged his kid as time passed, hand having moved to gently massage Peter’s temples in the hopes of easing the pressure. Every few moments, Peter would wince and whine, with what Tony assumed was another bout of pain passing through his head or his stomach.
About ten minutes out from the Compound, Peter began to really let them know he was feeling worse.
He pulled away from Tony, suit crinkled and messed up. Tony couldn’t care less as he took in the even greener look on the boy’s face, and honestly, he could pass for the Hulk.
“Dad…” He whined, hands reaching for the door. “’M gonna be sick.”
“Happy, pull over!” Tony yelled in alarm as Peter groaned. God, they were stuck in the middle of the freeway and there were cars all around them. It was Friday night, one of the busiest nights of the week, and everyone seemed to be out and about. “Hurry up!”
“I’m trying- shit!” A car beeped at them, and Happy violently swerved back into the lane they had previously been in. This didn’t seem to do much for Peter’s state, Tony already searching the car for a substitute sick bag. When he found nothing, he just looked at Peter as Happy tried to get them to the side of the road.
“Dad…” Peter turned away from Tony and coughed, which turned into a burp then a gag. A moment passed where nothing happened, and before he knew it, Peter’s dinner was reappearing all over Happy’s leather seats in a wet splat. He cringed at the sight and sound, hands already rubbing his son’s back as he violently retched. “’M sorry, so sorry.”
“Shh, Underoos.” Tony hushed, finding it incredibly hard to not wrinkle his nose at the smell. He didn’t want to make Peter more upset than he already was. “It’s not your fault.”
Peter gagged again and another wave came, this time on the car’s carpet. Tony reached over to open the window beside him, which led Happy to do the same with the rest as he continued to drive. Tony caught his friend’s eyes in the review mirror, and thankfully, he looked more sympathetic than angry.
When Peter was finished, he collapsed against Tony with a heavy, choked sob. Tony fished the cloth out of his blazer pocket at wiped his son’s mouth, gently manoeuvring the tired boy away from his vomit and closer to him instead. There was puke down his front, but Tony ignored it.
At this rate, they were only a few minutes away from the Compound.
“’M sorry, Uncle H-Happy.” Peter whined brokenly into Tony’s shoulder. “Didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay, Pete.” Happy said from the front. “Don’t worry about it.”
Not even five minutes later, Happy pulled into Compound’s main garage. Tony helped Peter get out of the car, a few late-night maintenance workers watching on with confused, then pitiful stares. Tony didn’t pay them any mind as he helped Peter into the lift, Happy staying behind to survey the damage to the inside of his car.
When they reached their floor, Tony directed Peter to the bathroom connected onto his own bedroom rather than Peter’s for the moment. “Think you can have a shower?”
“Mhm.” Peter hummed; hands braced on the sink. “I’m sorry for r-ruining the car and the suit.”
“Stop apologising. Both can be cleaned, it’s okay.” Tony laughed a little in the hopes of bringing a smile to Peter’s face. It didn’t. “I’ll get you some pyjamas and medicine. Call me if you need anything.”
When Peter nodded, Tony slowly left the room and let the door click shut behind him. He headed to Peter’s room next and grabbed a pair of his favourite pyjamas, then to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. Finally, he filled up a cup of water. Once he had everything he needed, Tony made his way back to the bedroom and laid out Peter’s clothes out on the bed.
Then, he sat down and waited.
Peter came stumbling out of the bathroom around twenty minutes later as Tony was frowning down at his phone, pictures upon pictures of himself and Peter spread all over the internet. Usually, he wouldn’t give a shit if it was just himself. Most had horrible titles beneath them, since someone had leaked pictures of Tony’s argument with Stone. In most of them, Peter was crying.
Before he could let himself get too angry, he offered a smile to Peter. However, the kid wasn’t even looking as he grabbed his clothes and disappeared back into the bathroom, his movements slow and sluggish.
Tony sighed and switched off his phone, waiting patiently for his son to remerge. When he did, Tony opened his arms, pleased when Peter accepted the comfort.
“How’s your stomach?”
“It hurts.” Was Peter’s quiet response, head pressed into the crook of Tony’s neck. “And my head.”
“I brought you some medicine. Think you can keep it down?”
Peter nodded and peeled himself away, taking small enough sips to swallow the two tablets. The teen groaned when he did so, immediately handing the cup back to Tony who put it on the nightstand. Peter had his hand rested on his stomach as he leaned on Tony, eyes drooping.
“Want to try and sleep?” At Peter’s nod, he let his kid lie down and pulled the blankets to his shoulders. Peter groaned and rolled over; body curled up in a tight ball beneath the covers. Tony carded his hand through Peter’s curls as he spoke. “I’ll go get you a bucket just in case.”
“Mhm.”
Tony left and returned within three minutes with a bucket from the laundry cupboard and placed it beside Peter’s head on the floor. The boy was still awake, laid in the same position.
“Anything else I can do?” Tony asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, the nights events really beginning to set in. What Stone had said in front of Peter made him so incredibly angry he wanted to go into the lab and smash something.
“Stay.”
“I can do that.” Tony smiled and resumed carding his hand through Peter’s hair. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there as Peter fell asleep, relieved when the kid finally did. Then, Tony sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Shit.”
Eventually Tony got up and changed out of his suit and into some sweats and an old t-shirt, slowly climbing into bed beside Peter. Peter rolled over, still asleep, and nuzzled his face into Tony’s shirt almost immediately. His son was warm, really warm, though he wrapped his arm around the boy without hesitation.
Eventually, he too drifted into the clutches of sleep.
-
Tony awoke to someone yanking themselves away from him, the whole bed moving as they shifted. He was confused for a few seconds before he hurt the wet gag, which caused his eyes to fly open as he shot into a seated position.
Peter was bent over the bed, violently expelling whatever food he had left into the bucket. Immediately he fell into the routine of rubbing Peter’s back and whispering soft reassurances, and after a painful few minutes, the bout of throwing up ended and Peter was groaning.
“That everything?” Tony asked gently, pleased with Peter’s nod. He leant over his kid and grabbed the cup of water, which Peter took. “Don’t drink too fast.”
He watched Peter take slow sips and took the cup away when Peter decided he was finished.
“You stay here while I clean up, okay?” Tony said as Peter laid back down, pulling the blankets back over his kid at the same time. Thankfully, everything had made it to the bucket and not on the bedsheets. “Aw, buddy. It doesn’t feel nice, does it?”
Peter shook his head and closed his eyes. Tony cupped his cheek for a moment before he got up and grabbed the bucket, ignoring the sight as he cleaned it out in the laundry. He then ventured into the kitchen and grabbed a few light crackers and a drink bottle so they wouldn’t need refills as often.
When he returned, Peter had drifted back into dreamland. Tony placed the bucket back on the floor and replaced the cup with the drink bottle.
Once everything was in order, Tony laid back down and pulled Peter to his chest.
He didn’t fall back asleep, so instead, he grabbed his phone and started to aimlessly flick through emails. There were various texts from Pepper and Rhodey from hours ago, but he didn’t have nearly enough energy to answer them. It was four in the morning; they wouldn’t be awake yet anyways.
Not even half an hour later Peter stirred awake with a violent stomach gurgle. Tony heard it and winced, fully prepared to haul his kid up and direct him to the bucket. However, Peter sat up himself and tossed the blankets off before Tony could even switch his phone off.
“I need the bathroom.” Peter barely managed to say before he darted into the said room and slammed the door behind him. Tony understood immediately, though vaguely wondered how much Peter even had left in him. He hadn’t even had time to give him the crackers because he’d fallen asleep.
Peter emerged a long time later, holding his stomach with an uncomfortable look on his face.
“You can have more medicine.” Tony said as the boy sat back down, offering Peter the pills and drink bottle. Peter took both and proceeded with the process quickly. Then, Tony offered the small packet of crackers. “Here, try these.”
“I’m not hungry.” Peter groaned.
“Just try eat half for me. Please?”
Peter looked at the crackers in Tony’s hand before he nodded. Peter did exactly that, and even managed to eat a full one and another half of the other. Tony was pleased when he was handed back the packet, a soft smile on his face.
“Good job, bud.” Tony placed the crackers on the bedside table with the rest of the things he’d grabbed. “Think you want to go back to sleep?”
“No.” Peter shook his head. “Movie?”
At four in the morning? “Sure. Fri?”
FRIDAY turned on the TV, a selection of movies appearing. Tony slung his arm around Peter’s shoulders.
“What do you want to watch?”
“Um. The Aristocats?”
“Sure thing.” Tony smiled at the choice. FRIDAY must have heard, because the movie was already starting. Peter threw an arm over Tony’s stomach with a heavy sigh, which led Tony to rest his head on top of his son’s.
About twenty minutes in, Peter was throwing up again. Tony had it cleaned up quickly, and helped Peter settle enough to continue the movie, right up until the kid made another mad dash to the bathroom. Tony frowned in sympathy and had FRIDAY pause the movie as he waited.
When Peter returned, they settled back into the same position and continued the movie.
The third interruption that came wasn’t sick related.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” Tony hummed, attention moving down to his son.
“Who was that man who made you mad last night?”
Tony’s heart stopped for a few seconds as he tried to figure out how to answer the question.
“He’s someone I knew a while back.” Tony began, having no idea how he could possibly explain his… relationship with Stone. “It was a long time ago.”
“Did you date?” Peter was blunt about it; which Tony wasn’t so sure if he was happy with that or not.
“No.” Tony said with a quick shake of his head. “Definitely not. God, Pete, I’m so sorry you had to hear all that. I didn’t know he was going to be there.”
“It’s okay.” His son whispered, eyes still on the TV. “Why did he say that about… grandpa?”
Tony cringed at the title. Peter knew who Howard was, but he didn’t know how he was. It was unrealistic that he’d never find out, but Tony had hoped it would be when he was older. Or never, never was good too. Howard wasn’t and never would have been good enough to be Peter’s grandparent.
“Dad?” Peter prodded after a moment, which jolted Tony out of his thoughts.
“Sorry.” Tony rubbed Peter’s arm. “Howard wasn’t… he wasn’t… he wasn’t a good guy, Pete.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t really like to talk about it, Underoos.” Tony sighed a little and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. “I don’t really want you to know about him either. Stone shouldn’t have brought it up, he knew what he was doing.”
Peter didn’t reply for a while, which lead Tony to glance down at the expression on his face. He looked incredibly troubled, as if he were trying to figure something out. He still looked incredibly pale and ready to throw up again, but it was a different look from the uncomfortable one Tony had seen on his face all night. He could almost see the gears working in his son’s head.
“He didn’t really like me.” Tony said after a moment, incredibly vague. Peter finally looked up at him.
“Why? You’re… you’re Dad!” Tony smiled at Peter’s words.
“I don’t know why, Petey. He was a dull man, and I’m glad you never met him.” As bad as it sounded, it was true. If Howard were still alive, he would have dragged Peter around and crafted him into the next heir of Stark Industries. He would have treated him just like he treated Tony. “How’s about we get back to the Baristacats?”
“It’s Aristocats, Dad.” Peter giggled, which made Tony beam. After the last few hours they had, Peter smiling and laughing was a pleasant change.
“Same difference.” Tony smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Peter’s head.
When the movie was almost finished, the good mood began to fade when Peter began to feel the brunt of his sickness again. He was back curled up against Tony, Tony’s hand rubbing at his forehead since the headache had returned. Peter managed to get some medicine at around six in the morning, only to disappear into the bathroom twenty minutes later.
When Peter returned, Tony was standing. “Do you want to move to the living room?”
“Okay.”
Together, they grabbed some blankets and moved into the living area. When they were all set, Peter tugged on the hem of Tony’s shirt.
“Yes?”
“You’re not like grandpa or what that man called you.” Peter mumbled, Tony’s heart skipping a beat. “Love you, Dad.”
Tony accepted Peter’s offered hug and exhaled shakily. “Love you too, baby. So much.”
After basking in each other’s embrace for a little while longer, Peter turned his head so he could see the TV.
“Can we watch Cars?”
“Loving the Disney movies this morning, are we?” Tony smiled fondly and let FRIDAY turn on the movie at Peter’s request. Peter grumbled something illegible before he nuzzled into Tony’s chest some more. Tony just laughed and brought his attention to the TV.
Here, with his son in his arms, he found he didn’t care about Tiberius or Howard.
All he cared about was his son in his arms, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way.
“Love you.” Tony mumbled, not really expecting Peter to say it again after their heart to heart a just few minutes ago.
“Love you too, Dad. So much.”