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A breeze blows through Tony’s open window, as he cruises his favorite car down a bunch of boring, suburban streets. He’s in the kind of neighborhood where all the houses had sprawling yards, with the grass too kept by landscaping companies and automatic sprinklers to be littered with toys like Tony’s usually was.
“Are you sure people actually live here, Pep?”
Tony doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s rolling her eyes.
“Of course they do, some people just have the luxury of not having a demented Alpaca eating all the grass,” she tells him. “And scrap metal and spare parts all over the place.”
“You love Gerald,” says Tony, a mock hurt in his tone. “And that’s their loss. Those people also don’t have husbands who build them cars and superhero suits.”
Pepper laughs. “I suppose that’s a good point. You’re just lucky I love you and all your junk.”
“Oh, and all this time I was thinking you loved me just for my junk,” he quips.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Rude,” says Tony, as he pulls the car into the driveway of Morgan’s friend’s house. She’s already on the front porch waiting for them, and when she sees they’ve arrived, she hugs Alice goodbye and darts towards the car. “Oh, look at that, at least one of my children are happy to come home.”
“Can’t expect him to stop by every weekend, Tony, Pete’s in college now. Doing college kid things with his college friends.”
“I hope that’s what he’s doing.”
Tony worries.
That’s what he does best, even more so now that he’s a retired superhero but a full-time dad. He worries most of all that Peter’s taken up the mantle of full-time superhero in his place, when all Tony wants for his kid is to get the full experience of college, including partying, doing stupid things, and visiting your poor mentor/father figure even if it’s just to do laundry or for a home cooked meal.
“I would settle for just a weekend.”
Morgan flings open the back door and hops inside, throwing her overnight bag on the floor before buckling herself into the booster seat. Every morning Morgan insists on weighing herself to see if she’s over the weight requirement for her booster seat. Every morning Tony’s afraid of blinking forward to the day it’s Morgan not coming home to visit on weekends.
“Have fun, little monster?” asks Tony, locking eyes with her in the rearview mirror.
She giggles at the nickname and nods her head. “We played rescue mission! It was so awesome!” Her face turns sad, and she frowns. “Well it was kind of sad too, cause the dog we were helping didn’t just need pretend help.”
“What do you mean?” asks Pepper.
“Alice’s neighbors are witches with a b.”
“Morgan.”
“What, mom, it’s true, everyone says so” she says, then them gives them the run down about why.
Alice’s neighbors bought home a Rottweiler puppy a month ago, and they bought her home with the sole purpose of being a guard dog. Except this dog is too friendly and needs to be toughen up, so they stop feeding her and keep her on a short chain in the backyard and tease her with steaks, keeping them just out of her reach.
“They say it’s to make her meaner,” says Morgan. “So if someone tries and robs them, she’ll rip their faces off.”
Tony doesn’t realize he’s gripping the steering wheel to tight until Pepper touches his shoulder and reminds him to breath. He doesn’t remember when he developed such a soft spot for animals. He blames Peter. It’s his influence, and his remarkable likeness to a golden retriever.
It’s Peter’s fault he’s getting out of the car.
“Tony,” says Pepper. “What are you even going to do?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. He slams the car door shut. “But I didn’t sacrifice my right arm just for people to abuse their damn pets.”
“Go dad!” Morgan chants, and she’s still chanting it as Tony follows the concrete path to the backyard.
He has to hop a fence, but as soon as he lands, he sees the Rottweiler pup, laying on the ground with a chain around her neck, just like Morgan had described. She doesn’t seem to care as Tony approaches, doesn’t even lift her head from the ground, though she looks at him in fear and acceptance, like she’s ready to accept whatever abuse is coming her way.
Once Tony gets closer enough to crouch down next to her, he sees her ribs sticking out.
“Hey there,” says Tony. He reaches out his head and pats her head. She whines and Tony stops. “How ‘bout we get those chains off you?”
The Rottweiler watches him as Tony snaps the chains in half with his super-arm. “There, now you’re free.”
She doesn’t move, but her tail wags, just once and Tony makes the decision he knew he was going to make when he first left his car. Slowly he picks her up. She’s still small enough for him to use one hand, but she doesn’t go without a fight. She bites Tony’s finger, and since it’s made from metal, he lets her chew on it while he stalks across the backyard and kicks a whole in the fence so he doesn’t have to climb over it a second time.
Pepper isn’t surprised when Tony appears by the passenger side door with the puppy in hand.
“Can you drive?”
She sighs. “Sure.”
“Dad, are we keeping her?” asks Morgan, once Tony gets the puppy settled down on his lap.
He looks at Pepper, because her answer is the only one that matters.
“We already have a demented alpaca, what’s one more animal?” she asks.
Morgan cheers, and the Rottweiler’s tail wags a few more times, as if she heard and understood that she was coming home.
*
“Dad, there’s something wrong with her.”
The Rottweiler is laying on the living room floor, staring at the ball Morgan had just thrown as well as the treats Tony had laid down earlier. Her bowl of cooked chicken, that Tony had made for her as per the vet’s recommendation, to fatten her up, still went untouched in the kitchen.
“She’s just a little sad, that’s all,” says Tony. “We’ll have to cheer her up. Let’s think, what helps us when we’re sad.”
Morgan sighs and sits on the couch. “When Petey comes over to visit and tells us spidey stories.”
“Morgan you’re a genius.” Tony fishes his phone from his pocket, and Morgan rolls her eyes.
“Duh.”
Tony snaps a picture of the puppy and sends it to Peter, explaining in the message that they have a new family member. He walks outside and sits on the porch and waits for his phone to ring. He doesn’t wait for very long.
“That’s a dirty trick, Mr. Stark,” comes Peter’s voice on the other end.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re trying to bribe me into coming down to the lake house by sending me pictures of an adorable puppy.”
“Is it working?” asks Tony, and continues, before Peter could answer. “We could really use your help. She’s a little depressed, and we just figured, you have a superpower when it comes to dogs – “
“-I do not.”
“Please Parker, you’re like a damn Disney princess, animals flock to you.”
“I just have good energy.”
“That’s correct,” says Tony. “And your new sister desperately needs that good energy.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do it, Mr. Stark. I’m too busy.”
“Ahh, don’t sweat it, Pete,” says Tony. “I understand.”
They both hang up, and Tony continues to wait on his front porch. Peter shows up two hours later, just Tony suspected he would.
*
Tony knows it will happen, but it still hurts, that the puppy he saved immediately takes to Peter. All the kid has to do is walk in the room and the dog’s head perks up. She looks at Peter, lifting her head off the floor expectantly, and wagging her tail.
Peter grows somber when he sees the pup’s ribs poking out, but the sour look is soon replaced by a smile as he gets down on the floor and pets the dog, dissolving into a round of, “who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?”
The puppy barks a happy little yap that brings a smile to both Tony and Morgan’s faces.
“What’s her name?” asks Peter.
“Uh…”
“You didn’t even give her a name,” says Peter, scratching the Rottweiler behind her ears. “No wonder she’s depressed.”
“You name her then, kid, since you both are already best friends.”
“How about Wiley? Wiley the Rottweiler.”
“Yeah!” Morgan shouts.
Tony likes the name, but he doesn’t think it would matter even if he didn’t. Both his kids were already sold on it, and both his kids were all the floor, playing with new family pet. Better than that, both his kids were home, and Tony supposed Wiley helped him more than he saved her.
*
It’s late when Morgan finally decides she’ll let Tony put her to bed, and he’s convinced she only gives in to sleep because Wiley has finally given in as well, shortly after Peter had magically gotten her to eat her chicken and even a couple of dog treats.
After Tony leaves her room, he sees the light on in the kitchen and walks in to find Peter sitting at the table with his laptop and textbooks.
“Eww. Gross. Responsibility.”
Peter laughs, and god, how Tony’s missed that sound. Hearing it over the phone just isn’t the same.
“I told you, I have homework.”
“Put it off,” says Tony. “Let’s hang out in the garage. I’ll let you build anything you want. Even that Star Wars nonsense you tried to build when you were in high school… remember how you – “
“-almost blew myself up, yeah,” Peter cuts in, a hint of a smile of his face. He closes his laptop and looks up at Tony. “I was thinking, maybe we could do something else tonight.”
“Like what?”
“Something really immature,” says Peter. “Still remember the yard you stole Wiley from?”
“Rescued, and yes.”
“Got plenty of eggs?”
“Peter…”
“And toilet paper?”
Tony laughs. Peter was right, it is immature, and relief swells inside Tony’s chest at knowing Peter is still this way. Still young and dumb and ready to throw toilet paper at animal abusers.
“It’ll be fun,” says Peter. “Maybe even reverse the greying of your hair.”
“I like my grey hairs,” snaps Tony. “You know, though, it wouldn’t hurt to stop by the grocery on the way there… get extra supplies.”
“Oh yeah, for sure.”
Peter’s getting out of his chair, and Tony reaching for his keys. He knows, without a doubt, it’s going to be a really great night.