Work Text:
There was a child in his office.
Tony was supposed to be at the Expo but there was a child . In his office.
Tony didn’t have a lot of experience with children.
Scratch that, Tony had no experience with children. Children were something out of a bad horror movie that came to warn you about your impending doom. Children were something that Tony tried very very hard not to have much contact with.
So why, exactly, was there one in his office?
“Uh,” Tony began and the kid looked up, sharply with big brown doe eyes that were the color of tree bark, and his bottom lip - because it was a boy, wasn’t it? Not just a female child with short cropped hair? Although, he supposed that was possible. - trembled. “JARVIS?” He pitched his voice louder so that the AI could catch it.
“Yes, sir?” JARVIS asked in his clipped, accented vowels.
The kid startled and brushed a fist under his eyes stubbornly, as though determined not to show any sort of weakness. Which was good, because Tony was determined not to show any weakness too. “Why is there a kid in my office?” He asked and pointed as he said it, as though JARVIS could also see the child if only Tony were to point him out.
“I lost my mommy and daddy.” The kid said pathetically which, Tony supposed, was an answer in itself.
“Uh.” Tony grunted.
“It would appear, sir,” JARVIS said dryly and entirely unhelpfully. “That he has lost his parents.”
The little boy nodded enthusiastically.
Tony rolled his eyes to the high heavens. “I got that, Jar, but why is he here ?”
“I was in the… the… the eleva… elevator,” the boy stumbled over the words and swiped at his eyes again. “And… and I was staring at the… the buttons and mommy and daddy got off without me and so did Harry and Mister Osborn and Uncle Ben and… and… I don’t know where they are…” And the little boy took one giant, deep breath and promptly started to sob and Tony did a triple take.
“Uh…” He glanced around him nervously. What did one do with a crying child? Usually if people started crying in Tony’s office he just had Pepper deal with them. But Pepper was down at the Expo and Tony was in the penthouse of Stark Industries still rapidly unsure how a child had managed to get up to the personal floors of the building. “Do you want some coffee?”
The little boy’s chin wobbled and he took deep, gasping breaths to try and calm himself down but seemed to fail at it the harder that he tried. “I can’t… I can’t… have coffee.” He whined pathetically.
Tony floundered. “A water then?” Water was good for kids, right?
Tony was pretty sure he had water.
He stumbled over the mini-fridge and cursed loudly when it was revealed to him that he, in fact, did not have water. “How about orange juice? There’s Pepper’s special orange juice in here.”
And she was going to have his head for giving some of it away. Granted, perhaps she would understand if it was for the sake of the crying kid lost in his office, or perhaps she would only be more frustrated with him for not handling the situation as well as she expected him to. In Tony’s defense, MIT didn’t exactly have a class on how to deal with lost children and Tony didn’t really have any excuse to be around one unless he absolutely had to. And usually those children came with adults attached. Which he supposed this one would too, if he hadn’t woefully lost them.
At the lack of an answer Tony found himself glancing over his shoulder at the child, who was still crying, pathetic little sniffles that made Tony’s nose wrinkle and looking anywhere but at him. “Kid,” Tony snapped and the boy looked back at him. “Do you want some orange juice?”
The little boy nodded slowly, contemplatively and bit at the elastic at the end of his shirt sleeve - an OSCORP shirt and, right, the boy had mentioned a Mister Osborn , hadn’t he - and shuffled forward only when Tony stood up, orange juice in hand. He poured some in one of the crystal glasses, jerked the boy over with his chin and had to kneel down once more to press it into tiny, shaking hands. He drank from it with small sips, and then greedily, and Tony had to admit, out of all the kids who got lost around him - which were thankfully, none until now - this one was rather cute. “What’s your name, kid?” Tony asked softly.
He was pretty sure protocol called for him getting the kid’s name for some sort of announcement to go out to the Expo. He was sure the kid’s parents were freaking out. The boy swallowed and blinked his big brown eyes at Tony again, rolling his top lip between his teeth. “I’m Peter.” He said after a moment of careful contemplation.
“Do you have a last name, Peter?”
“Do you have a first name, mister?” The kid said with ruffled eyebrows and then, as though realizing exactly what he had said, slapped a hand over his mouth, orange juice sloshing over the rim of the cup and landing in a splat on the toe of Tony’s shoes. “Sorry.” He said behind his hand, voice muffled and nervous.
Tony’s lips twitched, though, once the shock of being sassed at by a baby disappeared. “You’re right, I should have told you that. Stranger danger and all of that.” The boy, Peter, nodded eagerly. “My name’s Tony Stark.”
Peter’s eyes widened, which was shocking as Tony hadn’t expected them to be able to grow any wider than they already were, and he squeaked in the back of his throat. Tony smirked. He knew it was coming, he knew it. “You’re Tony Stark!” Peter said excitedly and, feeling a bit smug, Tony nodded in confirmation. “Mister Osborn says you’re full of shit!” He said it so cheerfully too, as though the words weren’t something that weren’t meant to come out of a - how old even was this kid - baby’s mouth.
Tony’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Yeah, well,” Tony grunted. “Norman Osborn isn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, either.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “Uncle Ben says… he says he’s a meanie and he took away Harry’s colored pencils and it made him cry.” He looked so immensely sad about the colored pencils, even, that Tony felt some odd urge to go out to a store and buy some replacements for his friend. Just to get him to cheer up.
Which was weird.
The whole thing was… weird.
“Okay,” Tony clapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. “Peter,” he pointed at the little boy. “Do you have a last name, Pete, or do I just do an all points bulletin to anyone missing a Peter ?”
Peter giggled. “Parker, silly.”
“Who’s silly?”
“ You’re silly.”
Tony blinked. “ I’m silly?” He pointed at himself. “You’re saying that I’m silly?”
Peter nodded brightly, all previous traces of tears forgotten in the appearance of a name and a glass of Pepper’s special orange juice. Tony shook his head with a scoff, “Silly,” he muttered. “Who even says that?” His mumbles only made Peter giggle more. “Do you want to sit in the big chair?” He asked because, well, what else was Tony supposed to do. Peter tilted his head and then nodded eagerly, all but sprinting over until he stopped abruptly in front of Tony’s legs, nearly colliding with them. Tony steadied him with a hand on his shoulder and deftly grabbed the orange juice from his hands to avoid him spilling it again. On his shoes was one thing, but on his suit and Tony would never hear the end of it from the cleaners. “Okay, up you go.”
He watched the boy scramble, reaching out only to keep the chair from spinning on him, and pushed it in closer to the desk so that the boy could see the computer screens - Stark Industries logo floating over it - and placing the glass in easy reach of him. “JARVIS?” Tony called once more.
“Yes, sir?”
Peter’s big, curious eyes floated around the room, looking for the source of JARVIS’ voice and smiling despite the fact that he hadn’t found one. “Put out a call to the security at the Expo, will you? And Miss Potts. Tell them we have a Mister Peter Parker up here, looking for his lost parents.”
Peter bounced on his knees and reached out to touch Tony’s paperclip statue. “Very good, sir.” JARVIS replied.
Tony sighed and brushed a hand down his face. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted to be doing with his time but, really, Tony had to admit, what else was it that he would be doing? Wooing investors for Obediah? Drinking his night away with Rhodey? Trying to decide which model to take home that night? At least this was a change in pace. “How do you know Norman Osborn?” He asked because Tony wasn’t sure what else to do to fill the silence until Jarvis located Peter’s parents and security escorted them upstairs.
“He’s Harry’s dad.” Peter said like it was obvious and something Tony should have figured out.
Tony didn’t even know Norman Osborn had a kid. “Okay, let’s try that again.”
“Okay!”
“
Why
do you know Norman Osborn?”
“Oh!” Peter giggled. “He works with my daddy.”
Ah.
That didn’t really answer any of Tony’s questions.
“Mister Tony?” Peter asked with an inquisitive tilt to his head.
Mister Tony. Why was that so cute ? “What?”
“Why aren’t you down at your party?”
Well, he couldn’t very well go telling the kid the truth could he? “Well, why are you up here instead of down at my party?”
“Because I lost my mommy and daddy and Uncle Ben.” Peter said simply enough and with a shrug to boot. “Uncle Ben’s really cool, Mister Tony! He said you’re a… you’re a… a…” He wrinkled his nose as he tried to think of the word.
“Genius?” Tony filled in with a wave of his hand. “Well, your uncle would be right. I am a genius -.”
“No,” Peter giggled. “He says I’m a genius cuz I can already do multiplications. He said you’re a… a big head.”
“A big head?”
“Yeah,” Peter nodded and then laughed again, a bright and happy sound that Tony was getting the feeling the kid did a lot. “I don’t get it either. Your head looks normal to me.”
This must be some sort of fever dream because Tony felt as though he understood only, maybe, every other word coming out of this kid’s mouth. “How old are you?”
“How old are you ?”
“Is this like the name thing?” Tony narrowed his eyes but Peter only blinked at him innocently. “I’m thirty five.”
“I have a five too!” Peter exclaimed and held up five, tiny fingers.
“You’re five and you can do multiplication?”
“Mhm!” Peter nodded eagerly. “And I can make slime!”
“I don’t believe you.” Tony declared and crossed his arms. “What’s five times two?”
“Ten.” Peter said without thinking. “Mister Tony, where is JARVIS?”
“He’s an AI.” Tony scratched his chin. “What’s eight times seven?”
Peter hummed. “Fifty-sixy.” He giggled. “Sorry, fifty-six.”
Tony’s eyebrows were surly sky rocketing now. Perhaps whatever this kid’s uncle had said about him was right. Perhaps he was a genius. “Are you in school yet?”
Peter shook his head. “No, but I’m going to kindergarten with Ned once summer’s over!”
“I’m guessing Ned’s a friend?”
“Yeah!” Peter agreed enthusiastically. “Ned and Harry are my best friends but Harry’s still too little for school. He’s a year younger than me and Ned.”
The kid talked remarkably fast, as though he was worried that if he didn’t get the words out quick enough he would lose them forever. “Interesting. What’s nine times six?”
“Fifty-four.” Peter said with a nod. “What’s an AI?”
“It stands for artificial intelligence. Do you know what that is?”
“Is that like a robot?”
“Kind of.” Tony conceded. “It’s more like a computer program.”
“ Cool ,” Peter whispered.
“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted, as though the AI had heard them talking about him. “Mister Hogan has located Mister and Mrs. Parker. He’s escorting them up to the penthouse now.”
Tony nodded decisively and pushed away from his desk. “Sounds good, thanks JARVIS.”
“Thank you, JARVIS!” Peter shouted eagerly.
JARVIS was silent, but he almost never answered the thank yous that Tony tossed up at him needlessly. “You’re very welcome, Mister Parker.”
Tony startled and made a face that he was very glad Pepper or Rhodey weren’t around to see and tease him about. “Alright, Mister Parker.” Tony declared. “Are you ready to see your parents again?”
Peter nodded happily and wiggled so that his toes hovered just over the ground, his back all but flattened against Tony’s chair. The elevator dinged and in rushed two frazzled looking parents, “Peter!” Who Tony assumed was Mrs. Parker exclaimed, Happy Hogan stepping to the side to allow them to embrace without getting in the way. She flattened the boy against her chest, her husband kneeling down beside them to brush his hand in the boy’s matching brown locks. He looked like his mother, Tony thought, the same slender nose, dark hair, and long eyelashes. She cuddled him close, mumbled something against the skin of his ear and pressed a kiss to his hairline.
“Thank you, Mister Stark,” Peter’s father said, standing up to shake his hand in both greeting and acknowledgement.
Tony felt odd accepting the thanks - Peter had, after all, been oddly good company, and he was rather intrigued by the boy and his intellect. “Nonsense,” Tony shook his hand, though, the strong grip familiar and yet different to all of the others Tony had had over the years. “Bye, Peter.”
Peter pulled quickly away from his mother’s embrace and bit at his lip, rocking on his heels before sprinting back to Tony, colliding bodily with his legs and almost taking him down with his tiny body to the floor. Tony stumbled and caught himself with a startled hand on the wall for support. The boy’s parents laughed, even as the mother wiped at her reddened, tear stained cheeks. “Come on, Peter,” his father called. “I’m sure Mister Stark has more important things to do than hang out with you all day.”
Which Tony wanted to argue on but he wasn’t sure what argument he even had.
“Uncle Ben and Harry are really worried, baby.” His mother cajoled.
Tony rested a hand on the boy’s hair and something tugged at his stomach when the boy looked up, all big brown eyes and beaming smile. “Thank you for keeping me safe, Mister Tony!”
He licked his lips. “Thanks for hanging out with me, Peter.”
Peter beamed and clumsily saluted. “Anytime!” He jogged back to his parents, hand easily fitting in one of each of them, settling comfortably in between their legs. “Bye, Mister Tony!”
“Bye,” the elevator doors shut and Tony dropped his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples with frustrated fingers.
Well, that certainly wasn’t how he had expected to spend his last hours of peace before he was expected to make a speech at the Expo.
Oh well, he decided, he had just made that kid’s day and added something new to his own.
It wasn’t like they’d ever see each other again, anyway.