Chapter Text
In the months that separated finding out that he was going to be a father and him actually becoming one, Peter had done a lot of Googling. Like, a lot. Probably an unhealthy amount of Googling, to be perfectly honest, although he wasn’t even sure if that was a quantifiable thing.
Quantifiable or not, whenever he wasn’t in school, Spider-Manning or having an existential crisis about the reality of becoming a walking teen-parent statistic, he was Googling.
How do you hold a baby?
What is swaddling?
What temperature should the baby formula be?
Shockingly, there hadn’t been much in his almost eighteen years that had prepared him for fatherhood – he’d never even held a baby until the nurse had placed Abigail into his unsure arms. His mother had been an only child, meaning he didn’t have any aunts or uncles on her side to give him cousins, and May and Ben had never had children, so Peter had always been the baby of the family. And sure, there had been a few teen pregnancies at Midtown; despite it being a school for students gifted with talents in science and technology, the student population wasn’t immune to the common pitfalls of kids being excited to lose their virginity and all the usually unlikely, albeit possible, repercussions.
Peter supposed he and MJ were a part of that infamous group now too.
But it wasn’t like the teen moms at his school brought their babies to class, passing them around so that the next potential teen parent could get a feel for holding a baby. Most of the girls who became pregnant at Midtown either moved schools or dropped out altogether, and most of the teen dads did the same, or stayed in school and pretended like nothing ever happened.
The crux of the matter was that there had been very few opportunities during Peter’s life for him to interact with children, especially babies.
Therefore, the excessive Googling before Abigail was born had felt more than necessary.
But, somehow, in those first few hours of having his daughter home with him and Tony at the Tower, everything he had learnt from the world wide web basically went completely out of the metaphorical window.
There were some things no parenting forum could tell you, and you just had to figure out for yourself. And Peter realised that fact real quick.
Like how being a parent to a newborn was terrifying.
As he put Abigail down in her crib during their first night at the Tower as a family of three, he was frightened to take his eyes off of her, even for a second; irrationally terrified at what might happen if he did. At the hospital, he’d had the support of all the doctors and nurses that knew this shit like the back of their hand, but at home, he was all alone. Abby’s life was literally in his hands, and that was fucking terrifying.
What if she stopped breathing? What if the doctors had missed something and she was sick? All of the parenting forums said that he needed to sleep whenever she slept, but how could he leave her undefended like that? Sure, F.R.I.D.A.Y. was always keeping an eye on things – no need for baby monitors with an integrated AI – but technology wasn’t perfect, she could miss something.
Or, how terrifying feeding a newborn could be. When he fed Abigail, he couldn't look away; constantly aware of making sure she was suckling, but not too fast, and that she wasn’t taking in any air. And when he winded her, was he patting her back too firmly? Was that a normal amount of spit up or was something wrong? Had he done something wrong?
Tony caught on to Peter’s anxieties straight away, of course. The elder man had an uncanny ability – almost a Peter-Tingle of his own – to know exactly how Peter was feeling at any given time.
“You’re doing great, Pete,” Tony said softly, leaning against the doorframe of Peter’s room as Peter stood and watched Abby breathe, her tiny chest rising and falling perfectly as she slept in the crib they had set up beside Peter’s own bed.
Up. Down. In. Out.
Up. Down. In. Out.
Peter let out a long sigh, allowing himself to flop down until he was sitting on his bed. After a few moments, he felt the bed dip next to him as Tony joined him, but still didn’t look away from Abby’s peaceful face.
“How do people do it?” Peter asked after a while, “ever take their eyes off of them?”
Tony gave a small chuckle as he wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Well, I can't speak for parents of newborns… But I think it’s just about trusting your instincts; you’d know if something was wrong, Pete,” Tony said, as though reading Peter’s thoughts. “And then, when they get older, you have to trust them too,” he continued, giving Peter’s shoulders an extra squeeze.
Peter shifted until his head was resting against Tony’s shoulder, trying to push away his anxiety to allow himself to relish in his first evening home with his daughter.
“It’s scary,” Peter whispered. “Amazing,” he rushed to add, “but scary.”
“I know, Pete,” Tony replied, rubbing his hand up and down the kid’s arm soothingly, “I know. But, you’ve got this, kiddo. There’s no other person better suited to this job than you because you’re Abby’s dad, and you’re going to be amazing. You already are,” he finished softly.
Peter closed his eyes, allowing Tony’s words to wash over him and soothe his worries.
“Okay,” Tony said after a moment, giving Peter one final squeeze before pulling away, allowing his hand to remain on the kid’s shoulder, “it's late. Your kid’s asleep and mine should be too,” he winked, giving Peter’s shoulder a playful shove.
“Look who’s talking,” Peter said back playfully.
“Do as I say not as I do, kiddo,” Tony quipped as he stood, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on top of Peter’s head before leaning into the crib to give the same gentle treatment to Abby. “Sleep tight, Pete. And wake me if you need me, okay? I’ve got you, and I take my grandpa duties very seriously,” Tony joked, but Peter could hear the hidden message behind the words. I’m here for you. You’re not doing this alone. Lean on me when you need to.
“I will,” Peter smiled, “thanks, Tony.”
After Tony had left – closing the door to Peter’s room most of the way, but leaving a small gap, just as teen preferred – Peter got ready for bed quickly and settled himself under the covers, positioning himself so that he was facing Abby’s crib.
He closed his eyes, willing the sleep that he so desperately needed to come; it had been a long day, and he knew Abby would likely wake up in need of a feed in a couple of hours or so. Plus, after Tony had put them off today, Peter was pretty sure that Pepper and Rhodey would be over in the morning as early as was socially acceptable, likely followed close behind by the slightly more morning-phobic Happy and Bruce. Peter was also pretty sure his phone held a couple of unread messages from Ned, too, who like everybody else was desperate to meet #BabyStark.
Despite his anxieties, the thoughts of his family and the sound of his baby breathing steadily beside him lulled Peter to sleep within a few minutes. And when he woke an hour and a half later to Abigail’s hungry cries, he found he didn’t mind at all.
Peter woke slowly the next morning, the natural light of the rising sun rousing him from sleep gently. He wanted to roll over, cover his eyes with his pillow, and go back to sleep. He’d never been a morning person – every school day had begun with an internal battle; get up with his alarm and make it to the subway on time or hit snooze and sprint. Spider-Man needs the cardio, Peter would justify to himself as he fell into the seat of his first period just in time for the first bell.
Although to be fair, what teenager was a morning person?
The ones with kids, Peter thought to himself sarcastically as he heard Abby start to rouse in the crib next to him.
Stifling a groan, Peter dragged himself out of bed and towards the en suite bathroom, getting himself ready for the day and dressing in comfortable sweats whilst listening for sounds of Abby slowly waking up in the next room.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., time, please?” Peter mumbled before splashing some cold water on his face.
“Good morning, Peter. The time is currently six thirty-four a.m. Would you like me to start the coffee machine?” the AI replied quietly.
“Ugh, yes please, F.R.I.D.A.Y. Thank you.”
After attempting and failing to get his bedhead under control, Peter made his way back into his bedroom, a smile lighting up his face at the sight of his daughter that greeted him as he leaned over Abby’s crib.
“Good morning, baby girl,” Peter whispered, using his hand to rub gentle circles on his daughter’s belly as she began to fuss. “You see these bags?” Peter asked, referencing the dark circles under his eyes, “those are your fault,” he teased, surprising himself with how easily chattering to his baby daughter came. “Lucky daddy loves you more than sleep, huh? Hard to believe, I know, but it’s true,” Peter smiled. Abby, seemingly unimpressed with Peter’s chatter, began to cry in earnest. “Okay, okay, message received loud and clear, little bug,” Peter conceded, the nickname coming naturally as he gathered the girl in his arms and made his way over to the changing table on the far side of the room.
Once he had Abby changed and into a fresh onesie – grey with little white elephants, one that Tony had picked out – Peter made his way to the kitchen. Being awkwardly manhandled into a fresh diaper and onesie by her inexperienced father had done nothing for Abby’s mood, and the girl continued to cry as Peter attempted to make her a bottle one-handed.
“Need a hand there, kiddo?”
Tony stood in the doorway to the kitchen, smiling at the scene before him. He was still in his pyjamas; the plaid bottoms and long-sleeved t-shirt making the man look almost laughably domestic.
“Shit,” Peter sighed, leaning against the counter as he waited for the bottle to cool to the correct temperature. “Sorry, Tony, we didn’t mean to wake you.”
Tony chuckled good-naturedly as he walked over, taking over bottle prepping duty so that Peter could concentrate on soothing Abigail. “I’m pretty sure she meant to wake up anyone in a thirty-mile radius that could make her a bottle as quickly as possible.”
After a few more minutes, the bottle was finally to the correct temperature – thank you Google – and the penthouse was once again bathed in quiet as Abby enjoyed her breakfast in Peter’s arms. Peter looked on longingly as Tony poured himself a coffee, desperate for the caffeine F.R.I.D.A.Y. had mentioned earlier, but not confident enough to feed Abigail one-handed yet. His caffeine needs would have to wait until his baby had been fed and winded.
“I’ll save you some, don’t worry,” Tony teased, noticing Peter’s gaze on his cup.
“You can go back to bed if you like, you know. We’ll be okay. I’m sorry we had you up so early,” Peter said sincerely, shooting Tony an apologetic look.
“Don’t sweat it, kid, I’m pretty sure it’s par for the course as far as babies are concerned. You don’t have to be sorry,” Tony reassured. “Besides, Pepper has already text me this morning letting me know that her and Rhodey will be over at some time before nine. This way, I get to spend an hour cuddling my granddaughter before those leeches come over and hog her all for themselves.”
Peter chuckled at the man’s theatrics, a warm feeling flooding through him as he relished in how much Tony loved Abby already.
It was a couple of hours later, as the pair relaxed in the living room with a dosing Abby in Tony’s arms and the morning news on low volume in the background, that F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced the arrival of their first visitors.
“Boss, Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes have just entered the building and are on their way up now,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said quietly, so as not to disturb the settled baby – part of the Spider-Baby’s Baby protocol that Tony had installed.
Tony gasped dramatically as he gazed down at Abby, his finger held in her tiny fist. “Did you hear that, Abby? Your mean aunt and uncle are coming to steal you away from me and your daddy, can you believe that?”
Peter chuckled at the man’s antics as he heard the elevator doors open down the hall, listening as two sets of footsteps stepped out onto the floor.
“I’ll buy you a super fluffy blanket if you throw up on Rhodey,” Peter heard Tony whisper conspiratorially to Abby, too low for anyone else to hear.
“Tony, stop trying to bribe the baby,” Peter laughed as the elder man looked up, eyes filled with mirth.
Tony shrugged unapologetically. “Worth a shot,” he winked.
Rolling his eyes, Peter stood as Pepper and Rhodey entered the living room.
“Peter,” Pepper breathed as she moved to pull him into a tight hug. She stepped back, holding Peter’s head in her hands as if to get a good look at him. “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart. How are you?”
“Tired,” Peter laughed, “but good, thanks.”
Pepper chuckled in return, leaning in to kiss his cheek before stepping away to make room for Rhodey.
“Yeah, I hear sleep is to babies what three square meals a day is to Tony: a foreign concept,” Rhodey teased as he stepped forward to shake Peter’s hand, earning him an incredulous “I heard that Platypus!” from Tony. “Congratulations, Peter.”
“Thanks, Rhodey.”
“Oh my goodness,” Pepper whispered as she made her way over to the sofa that Tony was sitting on, seating herself next to him carefully to avoid jostling the baby in his arms unnecessarily. “Hello, Abigail,” the woman whispered, stroking the head of the dosing girl.
Rhodey made his way over to Tony’s other side, crouching down beside the arm of the sofa so that he was on Abigail’s level, the whirring of his leg braces only audible to Peter’s sensitive hearing. “Well, consider one of the world’s great mysteries solved, Pep,” the man began, “Tony Stark can get out of bed before noon and all it takes is the screaming of a newborn.”
“Har har, hilarious. Abby is something worth getting up for, boring SI meetings are not,” Tony argued. “Only my human babies are worth that kind of effort, isn’t that right Pete?”
Peter simply rolled his eyes and smirked at the elder man, his chest flooding with warmth at the comment.
The rest of the morning was spent with the group settling in the living room. Peter made coffee whilst Abigail was passed between Pepper and Rhodey and showered with cuddles and attention from each of them.
The girl was in Peter’s arms, being rocked gently as she grizzled, when Happy and Bruce – who had been living in his own quarters at the Tower since their final battle with Thanos – joined their party around noon, the former carrying two take-out bags full of Delmar’s finest in his hands having made the pit-stop as he passed through the city.
It was a couple of hours later, as the group sat spread out of the sofas with their stomachs full and Abby down for a nap in Peter’s room – the teen easily keeping a close eye on her with a live-feed streamed straight to his phone through F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s cameras – that the topic of MJ was brought up.
“I don’t really know what happened,” Peter said, nursing his third coffee of the day in his hands as he filled the others in on what had gone down at the hospital. “She just… left. Like, I knew she wouldn’t be sticking around, obviously, she’d said that all along, but… I don’t know… I just wasn’t expecting it to be so abrupt I guess.” He shrugged. “Silly me,” he smiled sadly, sipping his drink and taking the opportunity to gather himself.
“You’re not silly for hoping for the best, Peter,” Pepper said sadly.
“It would have been the best for me, probably,” Peter conceded, “but not for MJ, I don’t think. Some people just don’t want to be parents, and I get that, I totally do, but…”
“It doesn’t make her leaving like that any easier,” Rhodey supplied.
“Yeah. Exactly,” Pete sniffed. “It’s still sad, you know? Even though you know it’s coming… it’s still sad.”
“We know, buddy,” Tony agreed sadly, pulling the teen into his side with one hand and ruffling his hair with the other. “But you’ve still got us. You and Abby will always have us.”
“Exactly, kid,” Rhodey added, “Tony’s been trying and failing to get rid of us for years. And from what I can see, Abby’s already much better behaved than he ever was.”
“She definitely seems to throw up and piss herself a lot less than Tony did in the early two-thousands,” Happy added, earning him a laugh from everyone but Tony, who was too busy trying to fake indignation.
“You’re fired, Happy,” Tony said, though Peter didn’t miss the twitch of his lips.
“You’re hired, Happy,” Pepper smirked.
“Thanks, boss,” Happy replied, ignoring Tony completely.
“You see what I’ve had to put up with all these years, Underoos?” Tony nudged Peter, a bright sparkle in his eyes.
And Peter did see it. He saw love and laughter and loyalty. Unbreakable bonds between the people in the room – a group he had been welcomed into with open arms, and that had now welcomed his daughter, too. He saw family. His family. And in that moment, as he sipped his lukewarm coffee, as they all laughed at Tony’s pseudo anger, as Abby slept soundly a few doors down… Peter knew that no matter what happened, he and Abby would be okay. They had people on their team, looking out for them, always.
He had heard other parents say that it takes a village to raise a child, and Peter had spent months resigning himself to that fact that that would never be him – with MJ leaving, he would be doing this alone.
Oh, how wrong he’d been.
His village might not be conventional; made up of a billionaire and his ex, a Downton Abbey super-fan, a big but sometimes not so friendly green giant and a honey bear, but it was his. And as unconventional as they were, he wouldn’t change them for the world.