Work Text:
There was a dog in the backseat of Tony’s car and a soaking, sulking teenager riding shotgun.
Both smelled like saltwater and wet canine and Tony couldn’t even open a window for fresh air, unless he wanted to ruin his day even further by letting the Florida humidity into his car.
Tony should have said no to the beach. He should’ve said no when Peter suggested a trip to Disney World was the perfect way to heal old wounds after the mess at the airport and the Avengers’ narrow win against the Thanos and his plot to wipe away half the universe. He should’ve said no, although the Disney World portion of this team bonding fiasco had gone strangely well.
They ate gross food and rode rides and watched Thor throw up in a trash can after riding the teacup ride for the tenth time in a row.
“Mr. Stark,” Peter had said, in a quiet voice. “How’s the god of thunder get motion sickness? Doesn’t he whoosh around all the time?”
Thor lifted his hand and his hammer flew into his palm, flying from some unknown location. He pointed the hammer at Peter. “Those are the teacups of doom. They are not worthy. Not the same as whooshing, I assure you.”
Peter scrunched up his face in confusion as they both watched Thor get back in line for the teacups.
“The Avengers are a lot more… normal than I thought they’d be,” Peter had said, as they walked away from the teacups and went to search for something else to ride.
“You haven’t even met build-a-bear, yet, kid.”
“Who?”
Tony had laughed, he’d put his arm around the kid, and tried to explain to him about talking raccoons as they milled through the crowd, dodging people’s stares and the cameras on their phones.
“Like Tom Nook?”
“Who?”
Peter had tried to explain to him about Animal Crossing.
And so it went.
Their day at Disney World had been an exercise at closing the gap between them inches at a time. It was just Tony and Peter and the rides and other random Avengers they took turns hanging out with. It was almost like a nice, normal family vacation. Almost like Tony was somebody’s father, a regular guy taking his kid to Disney World, and sometimes, between screaming their lungs out on rides and laughing, Tony pretended it were true.
“You’re not really afraid of the coasters, are you, Mr. Stark?” asked Peter, something daring and amused lighting his eyes. “Cause you were screaming really loud.” He made a dramatic show about rubbing his arm. “And I think you gave me some bruises…”
“Those things are deathtraps,” said Tony. The idea of placing his life in the hands of technology that wasn’t engineered by him was insulting. Something he only did because he knew it would make Peter happy. “And you should be thanking me. I was stopping you from flying out of the cart.”
Peter laughed. “I’m sticky, ‘member? If anyone’s flying out of the cart it’s you, boss man.”
“Yeah, not making me feel better about these rides.”
“Don’t worry,” said Peter, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll catch you… unless you know, it gets stuck upside down or something, then you’re pretty much screwed.”
Tony grumbled under his breath and Peter laughed.
That day, they had left Disney early, before the fireworks started, because Tony didn’t want Peter to have sensory overload. They left the park with a cart full of merchandise from various shops, all things Peter had told Tony he didn’t really need, although the boy kept adding things to the cart anyway.
It’d been a perfect day, really, and that’s when Tony should’ve gotten the message that things were about to go south.
The next morning at breakfast, when Bucky and Steve had announced they were spending their last day in Florida at the beach instead of Disney world, Peter had convinced Tony they should tag along, too.
A day at the beach with the boy and the old-timers seemed so normal, Tony had agreed without much of an argument. Another mistake.
When they pulled into the parking lot, the sky was covered with storm clouds and wind blew the branches of nearby palm trees.
“Maybe we should go back to the hotel.”
“What? No way, this is just Florida,” said Peter. He took his seatbelt off. “It’ll rain a little bit, then the sun will come out.”
So, against his better judgment, Tony followed Peter out of the car, and together they joined the old-timers down on the beach, where Bucky watched helplessly as the umbrella he’d tried to stick in the sand blew away with the increasingly harsh wind and Steve threw a couple of towels down.
A flash of lightening, a rumble of thunder, and that was all it took for Tony to reach out his hand and grip the fabric of Peter’s shirt collar. His mouth was open, trying to shout over the wind that it was time to get back in the car, but Peter wasn’t paying attention.
His eyes were on the ocean, where the waves were raging, coming in with a crash as the hit the shore. Before Tony could stop him, Peter raced towards danger, as he was prone to doing.
“HEY! PETER BENJAMIN –“ yelled Tony, stopping at his last name, because Peter wasn’t listening to him. He was knee deep in a stormy ocean and leaping in further.
“Does he ever listen to you?” asked Steve.
Tony ignored him and watched as Peter swam against the waves. He got dunked a few times, which made Tony’s heart thump against his chest, but each time, he remerged and continued his mission, whatever it happened to be.
“What is he even doing?” asked Bucky, his hair flying around.
“Oh,” said Tony. His eyes narrowed in on Peter, who was finally swimming back in their direction, with a dog locked under one of his arms. “Of course it’s a damn animal.”
“Aww,” said Steve.
Tony gave him a glare, then kicked some sand in his direction.
As Peter made his way back to them, Tony tried to loosen his shoulders, to get his breathing steady, but a scene kept playing in his mind over and over again. Not Peter in the stormy, raging ocean. It was Peter, in his arms, dying and begging to stay.
Peter dying in space, dying and there was nothing Tony could do about it. It was purely fictional, he knew, it was something the darkest corners of his mind thought up, but that didn’t make the terror he felt any less real.
The sinking panic was still rolling off Tony when Peter sunk down in the sand, standing on his knees over the whimpering dog he’d just set down. He watched as Steve helped Peter dry the mutt off and listened as they talked about how to help it, until he couldn’t hold back his distress any longer.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Peter looked away from the dog, up at Tony, and blinked. “What?”
“You could’ve drowned.”
“Mr. Stark,” said Peter, standing up. “I’m S – “
“Don’t even say it,” said Tony, knowing he should stop, but also unable to keep the words pouring from his mouth. “You always do this. You never stop to think about what might happen to you.”
“This is the first time – “
“This is just like that time with the ferry, yeah, remember that?” asked Tony, trying to ignore Steve scratching his head in confusion and Bucky kicking around sand, being he wasn’t there. “Or when you stowed away and followed me and the wizard into space.”
Peter stuttered out a sting protests before motioning towards the ocean. “I had to save the dog!”
“Just…” said Tony, gritting his teeth. “Just get in the car.”
Peter looked pathetic now that he was angry, all frowny and with his arms crossed, but sopping wet, with water dripping from his hair and his clothes.
“We’re going back to the hotel.”
The boy continued glaring at him, but after a few beats, he bent over and reached down gathering the dog in his arms.
“It’s not being put in my car,” said Tony.
Peter hadn’t listened to him, and put the dog in the backseat anyway, which was how Tony found himself driving down a Florida road, with a dog and a teenager and an increasingly bad mood.
To make matters worse, Peter had the audacity to reach how his hand and brush his fingers against the knob that controlled the radio.
“Do not,” said Tony. “Touch my radio.”
Peter huffed and let his back hit the seat. He grumbled something about old man music and stretched out his legs, digging his back further into the leather seat. Tony had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to point out he had no problem listening to his old man music when they worked together in the workshop. That many times Tony had caught him humming along.
Tony slowed the car and stopped at a stoplight, wondering how differently their day might have gone if they’d spent it at Disney with the other Avengers. He certainly wouldn’t have a mutt in his backseat, one that was currently standing and shaking all the ocean water off itself.
From the corner of his eyes, Tony saw the faintest of smiles on Peter’s face.
“Don’t you dare laugh.”
The smile vanished in an instant. “Of course not, I’m not allowed to do anything.”
Tony gripped the steering wheel and repeated the wise advice May had once given him about dealing with teenagers. Pick your battles. Pick your battles. He played it on repeat, but unfortunately, Peter had no intention of letting things go.
“It wasn’t even that big of a deal,” said Peter. “I don’t understand why you’re flipping out.”
“Oh, thanks, next time you almost die I’ll remember it’s no big deal. I’ll make sure to tell Aunt May at your funeral.”
“That’s not fair,” said Peter, quietly, before getting a little louder. “And I didn’t almost die, but if I hadn’t gone out there, Sandy would have!”
“Sandy?”
“That’s his name.”
A couple of honks from the cars behind him let Tony know that the light had changed, but he only had his foot down on the accelerator before Peter yelled out to stop and he breaked again, the seatbelt holding them before into place and causing Sandy to whine.
“Whoa!” said Peter. He took off his seatbelt. “Look Mr. Stark!”
Out in the intersection was the most ungodly thing, a giant alligator standing in the middle of the road, directly in front of Tony’s car.
His reflexes were sharp. He hit the specialized child lock on the passenger’s side door, invented with Peter in mind. Peter tugged on the handle, then turned and glared at Tony when the door wouldn’t open.
“Child safety locks, spider-proof,” said Tony, with a smug smile. “Gotta love them, and gotta be prepared for the next time you senselessly fling yourself into danger.”
“Funny, Mr. Stark, open the door.”
“Uh, nope.”
“I have to go out there and save the gator,” said Peter. “He’ll get hit by a car if I don’t.”
“Yeah,” said Tony. “He’s gonna get hit by this car if he doesn’t back the hell up.”
The gator might have been slow, but it didn’t escape Tony’s attention that the beast was approaching the car. Sandy noticed too. He sat up in the backseat, and began to bark, repeatedly.
“Just let me out! I’ll move him out of our way!”
Tony ignored Peter. He tapped the button that slid his window down, stuck his head outside the car, and began yelling at the alligator. “Back it up, leather-face!”
When that didn’t work, he slammed on the horn, but the gator still wasn’t fazed. It was staring at him, crawling slowly towards the car, while the dog continued to lose his mind in the backseat. Tony turned to shush him, but instead had Peter’s knee in his face.
The boy had the top half of his body out of the car, via the sunroof, and was in the process of trying to lift his bottom half out as well.
Tony couldn’t let it happen. He hugged Peter’s legs, gripping them as tight as he could, and wishing he had his Iron Man armor on. Peter kicked. Hard.
“Mr. Stark! Let me go!”
“No way kid!”
The dog kept howling. The alligator kept creeping closer. Peter kept kicking as struggled to lift himself up, managing to get Tony good in the face, before a knock on the driver’s side of the car stopped all the chaos.
Tony turned, still hanging onto to Peter, who had gone still, and saw Steve standing outside.
“Uh, Tony,” he said. “Are you guys okay?”
“Oh, yeah, us,” said Tony. “We’re fine, right Pete?”
“Yeah, just dandy.” The kid didn’t even try keeping the venom from his voice.
“Your nose is bleeding,” Steve pointed out.
Tony let go of the kid’s legs and touched his nose, bringing back blood on his fingers. Peter ducked back into the car and plopped down in the passenger’s side seat, looking crushed and concerned. All of Tony’s panic and fear melted away.
“Kid, it was an accident – not your fault.”
Peter opened his mouth, but words never made it out. He stared at Bucky, who stood outside the car, cradling the alligator and allowing it to chew on his metal arm as if it were a chew toy.
“Steve, she’s kind of cute,” said Bucky. “We should keep her. We can call her Sandy.”
“Uhhhh…”
Tony slid his window back up. He didn’t need another argument in his life, even if it didn’t belong to him. He waited for the light to turn green again, and once it did, took his foot off the break and wiped the blood off his nose with his sleeve.
“I’m sorry about your nose, Mr. Stark,” said Peter.
“Not your fault,” he told him.
Peter sighed and threw his head back against the wall. “I gotta think of a new name for the dog, now that Bucky’s stolen Sandy.”
Tony kept his eyes on the road. He must have lost the part where he agreed to let Peter keep Not-Sandy, but he didn’t mention it.
He felt too guilty.
*
It only took a couple of hours for Tony to decide to suck it up and apologize.
He found Peter sitting up, with his back against the headboard of the hotel room’s bed, and with his legs sprawled out, the dog asleep by his feet. His eyes were trained on his Nintendo, and his hair was wet, that time from the shower instead of the ocean.
Tony took a breath, then sat down next to him on the bed. “Out of debt yet?”
“Still need tons more bells,” said Peter, looking up from his game.
“Look kid, I’m sorry I lost my mind back there.”
Peter switched his game off, and looked at him, listening.
“Ever since we got back from space,” he started. “I can’t get the image out of my head. That we might have lost, and I might have lost you.”
“That was never gonna happen, Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “And I know I worry you and May, but most of the time, I know what I’m doing. I’m a pretty good swimmer. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me fix it.”
Tony supposed he should take that as a compliment. That the kid had so much faith in him, he didn’t need to worry so much about what might happen.
“I’m gonna learn to get better, and not freak out so much, let you do your thing… I know you know what you’re doing.”
“Good,” said Peter. He looked at Not-Sandy, fast asleep after a big meal Tony had been guilt-tripped into ordering from room service. “At least something good came of today. Bucky got Sandy, and I finally got a dog.”
“What?”
“Steve said Bucky can keep her,” said Peter. He pulled out his phone and showed Tony a picture of the beast with a bow on its head. “See? Steve’s arranging for an environment to be set up at the Tower.”
“Oh great, that’s all we need. An alligator roaming around Avenger’s Tower.” Tony gave Not-Sandy some scratches on his head. “We can’t keep calling this mutt dog, Pete, give him a name already.”
“Okay,” said Peter. “Gator.”
“The dog can’t be named Gator.”
“Why not? He’s my dog.”
“Really?” said Tony. “Let me just tell May you’re bringing a dog back to her apartment…”
“Mr. Stark, that’s his name,” Peter elaborated. “See, watch. Gator!”
The dog looked up and stared at Peter expectantly.
Tony laughed. “Fine. Gator it is.”
They spent the rest of their evening in the hotel room, playing with Gator and trying to figure out how they were going to tell Pepper they had a new family member. Tony decided Peter should be the one to do it, since it was his fault they had Gator in the first place and since he didn’t know how she’d be able to say no to him.
Tony knew he sure couldn’t.