Chapter Text
His baby had loved kindergarten.
Every morning, he’d wake up without any prompting and race to his daddy’s bedroom to wake him up, excited to start the day and learn something new with his friends.
A wild mess of curly hair and big brown eyes.
Sometimes, Tony would have to remind the boy that he didn’t have school on the weekends, and his heart hurt each time when his son would look disappointed at the news. Peter was growing up far too quickly for Tony’s liking, and it hurt whenever his baby got excited to be leaving him for school, even if he knew he didn’t mean anything by it. So, on weekends, he always made sure to do something extra special with his son, and they always had a wonderful time. Sure, that made the goodbye each Monday morning hurt a little bit more for Tony, but it also made picking his son up from kindergarten and listening to his passionate rambles just that much more special.
Except now that excitement had stopped…
He didn’t know what had happened, but not even a month into first grade his baby had changed.
The newly turned six year old had stopped waking up each morning with a big beautiful smile and an eagerness to learn, but a pout and tantrums had taken its place instead. Gone were the passionate rambles and wild hand gestures as he told his dad everything that had happened in the six hours he’d been gone, because now Tony picked up a subdued and quiet boy who he didn’t recognise every day. On weekends, he got to see his bright and bubbly baby again, just long enough to make him believe that everything would be okay, but then Monday would roll in and the cycle would repeat itself.
Like any parent would, Tony naturally suspected that his son was being bullied by another kid. He’d already called the school many times to have Peter’s teacher keep an eye on him, but she’d always report back that she hadn’t seen anything and that Peter had seemed fine at school.
Each day his son slipped further and further away from him…
~~~~~
“Kid, come on, let's go.”
Tony had let the boy have last Thursday and Friday off, and they’d had a wonderful extended weekend, but that had unfortunately come at the cost of Peter now thinking that he didn’t have to go into school ever again if he didn’t want to.
“No!” The normally sweet and compliant six year old yelled with a stomp of his foot, plonking down onto the floor to take his shoes off for the third time that morning.
Tony was starting to loose his temper, and the only reason he hadn’t yet was because he knew the boy had been having a hard time. He sure was pushing it though…
“You dare take off your shoes again, Peter-” usually the boy’s full name in that tone would get him to stop whatever it was he was doing and apologise, but not today, clearly.
Peter pulled both of his Pikachu trainers off and threw them in Tony’s direction, before reaching for his school backpack to unzip and empty it.
With a clenched jaw, Tony picked up the small trainers, which had landed just in front of him, and grabbed the boy’s leg, pulling so that Peter was lying on his back down on the floor and hopefully couldn’t wreck anymore havoc.
Peter kicked and screamed as his father forcefully put his shoes back on like it was the end of the world. “Peter, stop it, you’re being really naughty.” Please stop, I just want you to be happy, how can I make you happy again?
As soon as Tony finished and reached to grab the boy’s backpack, which had been thrown off to the side, Peter used his left foot to kick off his right shoe, and by that point Tony was about ready to drag the kid into school barefoot. He didn’t know what to do, he’d never had to deal with Peter being this bad before. Usually, the worst the boy got was a little pouty when he was tired but that was it, he was normally such a good kid. A happy kid. What was happening to his baby boy?
Tony stood up to his feet, planning on just scooping the boy up, kicking and screaming, to take him to the car. That was, until, Peter zipped open his backpack and let the contents of it roll out onto the floor, Peter then picked up his lunch box and hurled it towards the TV. It made impact, and the box fell to the floor with a thud, leaving a small, but noticeable, crack in the corner of the flat screen TV.
Peter knew he’d gone too far then, and stared at the crack in horror. “Daddy, I’m sorry-” he began, but Tony didn’t want to hear it. He scooped the six year old up and charged out of the front door, barely holding in the lashing that was right on the tip of his tongue. He hadn’t had enough coffee to deal with this.
Peter was sobbing apologies as he was strapped into his car seat, and continued to call after his daddy in tears as the man ran back into the house to get the boy’s right shoe and backpack, thinking that he was being abandoned.
The man came back not two minutes later, and put the boy’s things on the passenger seat before getting into the driver’s. He didn’t talk to the six year old during the drive there, didn’t trust himself to, he just took some deep breaths to calm himself down and tried not to feel too bad at giving his crying son the silent treatment.
Peter stopped crying apologies about ten minutes into the drive, and spent the rest of it sniffling and looking down at his lap.
Tony pulled up around the corner from his son’s school, and wordlessly grabbed the shoe and backpack before getting out and into the backseat next to the boy.
Peter looked up at him with a wobbly lip, before quickly looking back down to his lap in shame. Tony put Peter’s shoe back on, relieved when there was no more fighting, before using his sleeve to wipe at the boy’s tearful face. “Talk to me, bud. Why don’t you want to go to school?” If someone’s bothering you, just tell me. I’ll do anything to make you happy again. Anything. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Peter hiccuped, looking up again at his daddy who he’d been so mean to this morning. He felt really bad. “N-nothin’. I just miss you lots when I’m at s-school, daddy.” He mumbled with a noticeable hitch in his small voice.
And god, Tony so badly wanted to turn the car around and take his kid back home, if only Peter knew how much power his puppy eyes had over his father. But he just couldn’t reward bad behaviour. If he let Peter off of school today, he’d just do all of this again tomorrow morning, and the next day and the next. As heartbreaking as it was, the boy had to go in today.
Tony leaned over to give the child a hug, unbuckling his car seat strap with one hand and rubbing his small back with the other. Arms freed, Peter returned the hug, still sniffling but glad that his daddy wasn’t mad at him. “I miss you too bud, so much. And I wish you could stay with me forever and ever until we’re both old and wrinkly, but you can’t. You have to go to school so you can learn fun things and meet new people.” Even if those people are little shit heads, Tony wanted to add, but Peter always just got more upset whenever he asked if another kid in his class was picking on him. And the last thing he needed was for his son to get upset again, it was too early in the morning for that.
Peter whimpered at his words, desperately tightening his little arms around his father’s neck and never wanting to let go. “I’m sorry I was naughty.”
Tony froze at the reminder, before continuing his gentle rubbing of the boy’s back, pulling away a little to look at the boy. “We’ll talk about that later, let's get you to school first.”
Peter opened his mouth to most likely object, but must have thought better of it as he closed it soon after and sorrowfully got out of the car. The school was only around the corner, and Tony figured walking would hopefully calm the boy down. Besides, if it gave him more time until he had to send his baby away, that was just a bonus.
Tony helped Peter put his backpack on, wiped at his face once again before giving his little nose a boop which managed to get a small giggle from the child. He then took Peter’s tiny hand in his and began a slow walk to the school.
Once there in the midst of hundreds of screaming and running children, Tony crouched down in front of his boy to say goodbye, just like he did everyday. “Have a good day, okay? I’ll meet you right here after school.” He promised, kissing the top of the boy’s head and giving him another hug.
“Okay, daddy. Love you lots.” Peter responded, giving his father’s cheek a quick kiss before stepping back from the hug.
Another thing Tony had noticed, Peter didn’t return hugs for very long when they were in front of the school. “Love you too, roos.”
Peter turned around and held both straps of his backpack tightly in his hands, before starting his journey through the big crowd to the front doors, his little head bowed low.
Tony watched his son walk up the steps of the school, partly because Peter- being born in August- was easily the youngest, and by far the smallest, in the entire elementary, and he wanted to make sure that he didn’t get trampled by the bigger kids. But mostly because he was hoping to catch whatever little shit had been messing with his son in the act. But no such luck, Peter made it into the school building without any issue, pausing to sadly wave goodbye to his father before disappearing through the doors, away from the safety and protection of his father.
~~~~~
Peter’s teacher was a big meanie.
And for reasons the six year old simply could not understand, she only ever seemed to be mean to him.
For example, instead of letting him sit with the other kids, she made him sit alone at the back of the classroom, and when he asked her why she said it was so he didn't distract the other kids with his silliness. But Peter couldn’t remember ever acting up in her class, and if he had he didn’t understand why that meant he had to sit away from his best friend Ned forever and ever. It made him feel sad being sat away from everyone else, and really lonely. He wasn’t even allowed to sit on the playmate with everyone during story time! She said that he needed the extra time to work because he wasn’t very good at anything, which also didn’t make sense because he already knew all of his times tables when everyone else was still working on adding and subtracting.
To make matters worse, when the dinner lady came with the milk tray, his teacher would call table by table to get their milk cartons, but she always called on him last and there was never any left by then because she let some students take two.
Peter knew he wasn’t supposed to hate people, but he hated Miss Charles. He never wanted to see her poopy face again. He just wanted his daddy.