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“Use the wings of the flying Universe,
Dream with open eyes;
See in darkness.”
―
Some people might be inclined to call Tony a helicopter-sort-of-parent.
Honestly, he knows that they’re right, but that doesn’t mean he’s ashamed of it. Far from it. It was another rough night, one where Peter had come home to the tower from patrol, shaken and soaking wet with a 4-inch knife embedded in the soft skin of his torso.
“We were extremely lucky,” Dr. Cho had said a few hours later, leading a panic-stricken Tony down the hallway toward where they’d moved Peter. Tony had swallowed, his throat dry from crying. “A few inches to the left, well --”
Tony didn’t respond, just nodded and followed the doctor as she stopped in-front of a closed med-bay door. Through the little glass window, the billionaire had just been able to see his son’s feet along the edge of his hospital bed and that was the final straw for Tony.
“I’m just gonna --” He starts, cutting himself off as he finally steps fully into the room and comes around the bend, stopping at the foot of Peter’s cot. “Oh, Peter .”
Peter lays, propped up against his pillows, looking so small and pale in the bed that Tony feels like he could start crying again. Breathing out a shaky sigh, the genius forces himself to step forward, reaching out and gently brushes a few stray curls from his kid’s slack face.
With his other hand, he grabs Peter’s own, spilling down into the chair offered to him by a somber Helen.
“I know it doesn’t look great, Tony,” Dr. Cho says, resting a supportive hand against the billionaire’s shoulder. Tony, however, doesn’t tear his eyes away from Peter, watching as the spiderling’s chest rises and falls. “But he’s going to be okay. The knife, it didn’t hit anything vital and he’s stable, already healing in-fact.”
“That’s good, yeah, that’s --.” Tony swallows, bringing the hand cradled in his own up to his cheek, pressing until he can feel Peter’s pulse. Tony’s eyes flutter closed, his throat tightening. “How long, do you think? For him to heal?”
“I’d say a few days, at most.”
Tony nods. “Thanks, Helen.”
The soft hand against his shoulder gives a squeeze and Tony swallows again. Dr. Cho leaves after a few minutes, leaving Tony alone with both his thoughts and his still unconscious kid.
Heaving a silent sigh, Tony makes himself as comfortable as possible against the side of Peter’s cot, the boy’s hand still clutched in both of Tony’s own.
It’s been almost a full day since Peter had been given the okay to be transferred back up to his own room in the penthouse. He’d woken up a few times since the night before, slow, heavy blinks causing his doe eyes to droop, before he’s out cold again, nuzzled back against Tony or May.
After discussing it with May, both parents had decided to wait the rest of the day out, just in case Peter’s injured side decided to flare up. Now, however, everything looks to be heading in the right direction.
“The painkillers that we gave him,” Dr. Cho says, glancing between Tony and May from where the duo sits, Peter still sleeping in-between them. “-- should keep making him pretty drowsy for the next few hours, but he’s free to leave the med-bay at any time now. If you want, we can move his cot up there--?”
“No,” Tony shakes his head. “I’ll carry him.”
“Oh,” May speaks up, glancing over at Tony from over Peter’s nest of messy curls. “Oh, Tony, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” Tony swallows, throat clicking. “He practically weighs nothing thanks to that wonderful spider bite, I can carry him.”
“But your back--?”
“--will be fine.” Reaching over, Tony covers May’s hand with his own, knowing that the elder Parker can feel how much it trembles. “I need to keep him close. Last night, it - he - I need --”
“Alright,” May nods now, an understanding lighting up her eyes. She gently squeezes Tony’s hand, both of them carefully sliding off of the bed. “Do you wanna go now, or--?”
“Yeah, if you’re ready. Alright, up we go, bubba.” Tony says, carefully pulling the now-dozing Peter back into his arms. May’s on the other side, gently grabbing Peter’s hand when the boy reaches out toward her. “You okay?”
“Hmm.” Peter mumbles incoherently, nuzzling his face against Tony’s shoulder as the billionaire gently shifts him in his arms. “Tired.”
“Yeah, yeah, you just rest there now, huh, bubba? Put those sticky spidey powers to good use and hold on.” Tony presses a kiss against his kid’s curls, meeting May’s sparkling eyes over Peter’s head. “They’re finally good for something other than getting you into trouble, mister.”
Peter lets out a weak laugh, the sound nothing more than a puff of air against Tony’s neck but the man grins at it just the same. Pausing to let May brush Peter’s curls from his eyes, Tony waits for the woman to nod, all three of them carefully making their way out of the med-bay and down the hall toward the elevator.
“Should we stop and get some snacks?” May asks once they all pile in, leaning in closer to press a gentle kiss against Peter’s baby-soft cheek. “You hungry at all, sweetheart? Want some jello? A pudding cup?”
“We got the blue kind just for you, kiddo.” Tony says, rocking them slightly from side-to-side, Peter’s socked feet bumping against his legs. “The one that makes you look like you ate a smurf.”
“That’s the--'' Peter pauses his sentence to yawn, button nose wrinkling. Finally, it ends and the boy settles back down, swallowing a little before speaking. “-- the best kind.”
“Whatever you say, bug.”
When the trio finally makes it to the communal area of the upper floors, Tony’s surprised to see Steve and Bucky already there, making what looks to be around twenty turkey sandwiches. Scooting around Bucky when the brunette raises a hand in greeting, both Tony and May come to a stop near the gigantic, walk-in pantry.
“I’ll go check.” May says, hesitating slightly to cup Peter’s cheek in one hand. “I’ll be right back, honey, be good for your dad.”
Tony nods at that, shifting the now sleeping Peter to his other hip. The spiderling grumbles for a second, face pinched, before he sighs, curling his free hand lightly against Tony’s shirt collar. Leaning down, the genius brushes a sweet kiss against his son’s temple, relishing in the steady thump of Peter’s heartbeat underneath.
“Oh, il mio prezioso bambino ,” Tony mumbles, running his free hand through his kid’s soft curls. “You’re a mess, you know that?”
If Peter were awake, Tony knows for a fact that he would’ve gotten an ear-full for that one, that Peter would’ve quipped back something and Tony would try his hardest to keep a straight-face against his kid’s overwhelming sass and adorableness.
Right now, however, Peter’s asleep and Tony doesn’t have to keep his smile hidden.
“Hey, uh--” One of Steve’s large hands suddenly comes to rest against Tony’s unoccupied shoulder and the billionaire can barely keep from flinching, turning to face the blonde as Steve shifts on his heels. “Hey, Tony, I can take him, I mean, Peter, if you want?”
“No, no,” Tony shakes his head, tightening his grip on his son as the spiderling grumbles something, nuzzling closer. “I’m good here, Capcicle, thanks.”
“Are you sure?” Steve takes a step even closer, reaching out as if to take Peter and Tony feels a low rumble of fury start to build in his chest. Rogers, however, doesn’t seem to notice anything. “This can’t be good for your back--”
“I don’t give a shit about my back!” Tony growls, wrapping both arms now around his kid and positions him as far from the Captain’s still-reaching hands as possible. Tony’s eyes are narrowed in rage, practically snarling around the words. “No, Rogers, you can’t take my kid. My back is fine. Now back the fuck up before I have to make you.”
Steve’s own blue eyes are wide and he’s shuffling away just as May finally emerges from the pantry, a few cups of raspberry jello and butterscotch pudding cradled in her arms. She frowns at the scene, reaching over to grip Peter’s free hand, a silent question in her flickering gaze.
“Come on, Stevie,” Bucky suddenly jumps in, reaching over to tug harshly at his friend’s arm. His eyes shimmer in apology and Tony nods, loosening up slightly. “Let’s head back down to the gym, finish those last reps.”
Rogers hesitates for a second before nodding with a harsh sigh. Giving one last polite smile in May’s direction, both super soldiers walk off, taking their tray of sandwiches with them. Hitching Peter further up, Tony leads all three of them to the personal Stark elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse once inside.
“What the hell was that about?” May asks after a few seconds, her voice an angry hiss. “Because if anyone said anything, I’ll--”
“Rogers wanted to hold Peter.” Tony responds, rubbing soothing circles against his son’s back when the teen squirms. “I said no and he tried to, uh, he sort of tried to take Peter, I guess? He might not have though, honestly it just freaked me out, May.”
“And you panicked.” May sighs in understanding, crossing her arms.
By this time, the elevator has finally made it all the way up to the penthouse and both parents exit, quickly making their way past the living room. Peter sighs against Tony’s chest, waking up enough to wrap his arms around his father-figure’s neck before dozing off again, small kitten snores ruffling through his stuffy nose.
Tony presses a sweet kiss against his kid’s forehead before speaking. “Yeah, I just-- I dunno, honestly, I’ve never felt like that before.”
“You love him.”
“Of course.” Tony frowns, shifting over to the side once they come to a stop near Peter’s closed bedroom door, allowing May to open it before both of them step through the threshold. “More than I ever thought possible.”
“And you want to protect him.” May flips on the light, both her and Tony illuminated by the soft yellow glow. Her smile is golden.
“Duh, May is that even a question?” Tony smiles too, however, watching as the elder Parker carefully pulls back Peter’s navy comforter, fluffing the boy’s pillows. “Did I not make it clear enough or something? Should I spell it out maybe? Do it in morse code?”
“Oh no, no, that’s quite okay,” May laughs, stepping aside so Tony can carefully lower their kid into his bed, both of them sitting along the edge with Peter curled up against their backs. “I was the same way, you know. Protective.”
Tony nods. “Overprotective, sometimes.”
“After what Rogers did to you, I wouldn’t have let him hold our kid, either.”
“It’s not just Cap, though. The thought of letting Peter go, of letting him out of my sight?” Tony scoffs. “It’s hard when he isn’t recovering from a fucking stab wound, May, but now --”
“It’s even worse.” May says, giving a small nod herself. “I get it.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of hard not to be.” Tony’s eyes soften and he glances down at Peter, reaching out to brush a few stray curls back from his son’s forehead. Peter sighs at the touch, cuddling closer. “He’s amazing.”
“When --” May’s voice cracks and Tony snaps his gaze back over to her, grabbing her free hand in his and giving it a squeeze. She’s not looking at him, however, her misty eyes still flickering over Peter’s slack face, palm cupping his jaw. “When Ben, when he -- afterwards, it was hard. I felt alone.”
“You aren’t alone--”
“Back then. I mean. I wasn’t, though, Tony, I never was, because I had him .” Finally, May meets Tony’s eyes and they’re sparkling in emotions that Tony’s just figuring out the names for, a million miles deep. “He’s growing up. Becoming his own person and Tony, he’s so wonderful that I want to share him with everyone I meet--”
“But you also want to keep him safe, away from harm,” Tony finishes, feeling the truth seep deep into his own bones, so sharp that it nearly takes his breath away. “We can’t coddle him forever.”
“That’s the hardest part, I think.” May sniffs, smoothing her thumb gently over Peter’s cheek. Tony pretends to not notice the way they shake. “We can’t protect him from everything, today kind of proves that, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tony swallows, glancing from May’s face to their son behind them. Peter’s still sleeping, his own face youthful and the billionaire feels his heart clench. “Yeah, I guess it does. I’m not used to-to not being able to guess things, to plan, the variables are always different and I’m so scared I’m gonna not get it in time.”
“Planning when you’re a parent is like trying to guess the amount of stars in the sky.” May shuffles closer toward Peter, leaning back slightly. “It’s a little easier when there’s two of us.”
“And one has been to space.” Tony jokes, both him and May letting out tiny huffs of laughter before falling silent again. “But hey? We can do this, right? Two heads are better than one and all that.”
“I think so.” May smiles.
“You know, I don’t normally ask for help?” Tony fidgets slightly, reaching over to carefully rest a warm hand against Peter’s, breathing out a sigh at the steady pulse underneath his fingers. “With him, though, it’s different. I’d do anything to keep him safe and happy, May.”
“I know, Tony.” May’s own hand is warm against Tony’s shoulder and the billionaire blinks. “Trust me, I know.”
“Mr. Sta’? May?” Peter says from behind them, both adults immediately turning around to face their kid. Tony bites his lip to stifle a coo, watching as Peter blinks up at them, his doe eyes clouded in exhaustion. “Where--?”
“Hi, baby.” May says, Tony echoing the statement. “You alright? Do you want a jello now?”
Peter nods, allowing Tony to sit him up, leaning against his mentor’s side as the man wraps an arm around his shoulders. Grabbing the now open cup of jello from his aunt, Peter carefully scoops a spoonful into his mouth, his cheeks red-tinged and drooping in a medication-fueled exhaustion.
“Hey, honey,” May suddenly leans forward, catching the spoon just as Peter’s about to dip it into the blue mush again, almost missing the cup completely. “Why don’t we let Dad feed you some, hmm? You look like you’re about to paint your face blue and that’s not a good look for anyone.”
“Come on, Pete,” Tony says, watching with a full heart as his son’s eyes light up slightly at the sound of his voice, taking the offered spoon from May when she holds it out. He carefully scoops some jello up, holding it in-front of Peter. “Open up, bubba.”
Peter’s cheeks heat in a blush but he seems to be too tired to complain about being ‘treated like a baby’ and allows Tony to feed him a few bites of the jello. It’s on the 4th bite that he turns away with a grimace, however, smearing a small streak of blue against his cheek.
Tony wipes it away without hesitation, handing the empty cup to May. Once their spiderling gets settled back down against his pillows, both May and Tony follow suit, allowing Peter to curl up against both of them.
He’s asleep within seconds, his head rolling to rest against Tony’s shoulder, one hand reaching across to grip May’s, his breath evening out.
“I think we’ll be okay.” Tony whispers, glancing from Peter’s slack, adorable baby-face to where May’s leaned up against his other side.
“Yeah,” May says after a second, meeting Tony’s eyes through the muted golden light. “I think we got this.”
And Tony decides, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Peter’s forehead, feeling his son’s other hand subconsciously reach up to grab at the billionaire’s shirt again, that he doesn’t mind being labeled as a helicopter-parent.
Not when he has May Parker as his co-pilot, not one bit.