Work Text:
Tony kisses Peter on the cheek and holds him closer, glaring at May. She doesn’t falter, raising her eyebrows at him, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.
He feels semi-desperate. He won’t use that word out loud, but he knows she can see it on his face. And in his movements. And all over him.
“Listen, I don’t need to be separated from him,” Tony says, rubbing Peter’s back like he’s doing him a great disservice, even though Peter has no idea what’s going on.
“You will have work trips.”
“I’ll cancel them.”
“You won’t.”
Tony sighs. He knows Pepper’s been shifting things around for him for a while now, and he’s aware that she won’t be able to do that forever. Peter leans his forehead against Tony’s chin and holds up the puffy book he’s holding.
“Pie, pie,” Peter says, pointing. “Cheese pie.”
“That’s not cheese pie, that’s pumpkin pie,” Tony says, still staring over at May.
“Kin,” Peter says. “Cheesekin.”
“No, munchkin,” Tony says, sighing again, watching as Peter shakes the book, giggling.
“C’mon, Tony,” May says. “We’ve gotta try and tackle this, we’ve got all the specific ways the books said were good ways to handle it—”
Tony sighs. Keeps sighing. Doesn’t stop sighing.
The idea of causing Peter any kind of distress makes Tony’s chest feel tight, but the kid shouldn’t be too upset if he can still see May. He loves her too—Peter has so much love in his heart for such a little thing, and he consistently shows the people he values most how much he appreciates them. Peter gives his little family constant kisses, big hugs, holds their hands and rambles on about God knows what. He’s such a little light, and it comes so natural to him, the amount of sweetness he exudes.
So why the hell would Tony ever want to separate from him? He’d gladly be attached at the hip with his son until he’s a hundred years old and barely able to stand. Maybe Peter would be done with him by then, but Tony knows he’s gonna be head over heels for his kid forever.
But he knows May isn’t gonna drop this. And he guesses it’ll be...better, once they get this done. Relatively. He guesses.
“Okay, monkey,” Tony says, putting him down on the carpet. “Your Aunt May is making me leave you forever.”
“That’s not helping,” May says. “And it’s also not the goodbye ritual we came up with.”
Tony remembers what the book said, and he tugs Peter’s blue blanket closer to him, and his current favorite toys. He sighs, shaking his head, and brushes Peter’s hair back, straightening back up. Peter talks to himself, flipping through the puffy book, trying to work through the word pumpkin.
“Bye bye, Petey pie,” Tony says, squeezing Peter’s free hand and kissing the top of his head. “I’ll be back. I love you.”
“Don’t draw it out,” May says. “Remember what it said.”
These goddamn books, dictating his life.
“Dada go to food,” Peter says, clearly thinking he’s gonna get lunch, even though he just got breakfast.
Is that the only place Tony goes without him? To the kitchen? To the bathroom? To bed? Sometimes Peter still sleeps in Tony’s room, despite how much he loves his crib.
Tony sighs, squeezing his little hand, and Peter grins up at him.
Why is he doing this again? He can keep his baby with him forever. He totally can. His brain isn’t working. This is like hell. Peter will surely go through a phase in middle school when he doesn’t want to be around him. Why can’t they just wait for that?
“Okay,” May says, patting his shoulder as he walks by her. “I’ll tell you if it gets too serious.”
“I’ll be able to hear if it gets too serious,” Tony says, still glaring as he starts into the hallway.
“You can’t judge that,” May says. “He’s gotta be allowed to cry, that’s the whole thing.”
Tony sighs. Again. He walks into the guest bedroom and closes the door quietly, hoping Peter doesn’t hear it. He sits on the bed and vaguely hears May talking to Peter, Peter’s little responses. Tony lays back on the unmade bed, which still smells like Rhodey’s cologne from the last time he stayed, and a couple minutes go by without incident.
Maybe Peter won’t miss him too much after all.
“Dada?”
Tony’s eyes dart towards the door. He can’t make out what May says in response, but then he hears it again. “Dada? Dada, where?”
Tony sits back up and his first inclination is to rush back out there with a HERE I AM, but he knows he’ll face May’s wrath if he does that. So he stays put.
Then he hears Peter start running. Little footsteps down the hall.
“Dada? Dada? Where, where?”
“Oh my God,” Tony says, standing up again. He starts to pace around the room, physically restraining himself from going after him, putting an end to this. He can hear Peter running back and forth, and May following.
“It’s okay, honey bunch,” she says, tapping on the door as she walks by. As if telling Tony not to come out.
“My, Dada?” Peter asks, back in the hallway.
“He’ll be back, baby, let’s go play, huh? Let’s go look at your book!”
Tony approaches the door, and then he hears the first gasp, the first hiccup, and his heart splits. He stands there, frozen, as Peter starts sobbing, and Tony hears gentle knocks against the wall. Like Peter doesn’t know where he is but he hopes it’s somewhere nearby, still in the apartment somewhere.
“Dada, please!”
Like a jolt of lightning. Tony reaches for the door knob.
“Tony, do not come out,” May says. “It’s fine, he’s gonna cry it out—do not answer me—”
Tony turns around, gripping his hair. He doesn’t want Peter to be upset, he hates it, he hates this—
“They call it separation anxiety for a reason,” May says, as Peter’s crying travels back towards Tony’s room. “You want him to have anxiety? What if you have an emergency and you can’t bring him? What about school, huh? How will he ever do anything kids do if he can’t be on his own?”
Peter is still yelling and Tony takes deep breaths. He wants to be able to solve all of his problems, but he doesn’t want to be a source of some of them. How the hell long is he gonna have to stay in here, though? Until Peter stops crying? Because that might kill him.
“Dada! Dada!”
“It’s okay, honey,” May says, clearly following him around. “It’s okay.”
Peter is starting to get absolutely hysterical, and Tony tries to trace back and no, no, he hasn’t left him—he always takes him to work, he brings him everywhere, and he leaves the goddamn door open when he goes to the bathroom and takes a shower. He did do this, he made this happen, and the goodbye ritual isn’t a ritual for them because they never say goodbye. Bedtime is bedtime and Peter gets that, but Tony never really goes away from him for any extended period of time. At all.
“Shit,” Tony whispers, eyes burning.
Peter wails his name amongst all the horrific crying, and Tony can’t take it anymore. He grabs the knob and rushes out into the hall, and May rolls her eyes as soon as she sees him.
“Okay, you lasted a little longer than I thought you would—”
Peter is sitting in the living room, face red and streaked with tears, clutching at his blue blanket. Tony rushes over and kneels in front of him, and he immediately opens his eyes. “Hi, hi, Pete, I’m here,” Tony says, taking his little hands. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
Peter’s eyes light up and he smiles sadly, quickly crawling over. He grabs onto Tony’s knee, reaching up with one arm and sniffling. “Dada,” he says. “Petey monkey, please.”
“Stop with the please, you’re killing me,” Tony says, picking him up and wrapping his arms around him. He sighs, sitting back as Peter holds on tight, burying his face in Tony’s neck. Tony looks at May and, surprisingly, she doesn’t look too angry.
“I’m sorry,” he says, patting Peter’s side. “But that’s just—the crying? That’s like carving at my heart, like someone is just—repeatedly stabbing me—”
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to totally do it on the first try,” May says. “But that’s the whole point, we can—work up to it. Work through it, make it a routine, you know? Then he’ll realize you’re always gonna come back and he’s safe to be left alone with one of us. Because I know he trusts us—”
“He does,” Tony says. “You know how he acts with people he doesn’t trust.”
“So it’s just something we’ll have to work on,” May says. “He’s smart, he knew it wasn’t hide and seek, he knew you weren’t playing a game.”
Tony blows out a breath, running his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stand by when he’s crying like that,” he says, shaking his head and holding him closer. “Like, knowing he’s crying because I’m not there? And I’m just standing in the other room like an ass—like a piece of—”
“I know what you mean,” May says, cutting him off when he falters. “But Tony, in the long run, it’ll make your relationship stronger. Right now he’s so afraid when you’re gone, he doesn’t think you’re gonna come back. You haven’t established that with him yet, despite him knowing how much you love him. When we get through this, he’s gonna know that you’re gonna come back, every single time. And how much he misses you will pale in comparison to how happy he is when you’re back.”
“Yeah,” Tony says, with a sigh. Sigh sigh sigh. “Just gotta, uh. Become a stronger human being, that’s all.”
“Dada, here,” Peter mumbles, little hands clutching at him. “Right here.”
Tony gets it. He definitely gets it. But he knows this is gonna take longer than most other things with Peter, because they’re both involved. Tony values him more than anything else and it’s hard as shit to put things in perspective. But they’re gonna work on this. For a bit. For a while. They’ll both probably cry a lot. Maybe Tony more than Peter.
“Right here, monkey,” Tony says. “Right here.”
May shakes her head at them, but she’s smiling, anyway.