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Tony appreciates how May and Ben like to participate in Christmas, especially since he didn’t get to celebrate Hanukkah with them this year. Sure, he had Peter call, and the kid even pretended to light the menorah with them a couple nights in a row, but it still doesn't seem like enough, considering what a production Christmas always winds up being. Especially with the gala this year, which he wanted to do, but definitely feels a little bit of guilt about.
What doesn't he feel guilty about?
But Ben says the holidays are about family. And Tony can tell he’s happy to be here, that May is too, underneath her stony exterior. That’s what this is. Just—an important time for family. When they can appreciate each other and do special shit and they definitely needed it this year of all years, with everything they went through and where they are now—
So Tony tries not to overthink.
And he’s doing pretty good, he thinks, when the day of the gala rolls around.
“You know this is my favorite thing, right?” Tony asks, grinning to himself. He’s kneeling in front of Peter, adjusting his little bow tie.
“What?” Peter asks, holding his chin high. “Making me fancy?”
“Making you fancy.”
“Leave my hair the way it is please and thank you.”
Tony scoffs, and he rakes both of his hands through it a few times, quickly, and Peter scrunches up his nose. “What?” Tony asks. “You don’t want it to be all slicked back like your Uncle Ben’s?”
“No,” Petey says, ruffling his own hair, trying to fix what Tony apparently messed up. Then he pats his hands on Tony’s shoulders, a small pout on his face. “I’d look like a Big Dumb.”
Tony narrows his eyes. “How many times do I gotta say it?”
“You gotta say it every time.”
“I know you have ears,” Tony says, and he tugs on one of them a little bit, which makes Peter laugh. “I see ‘em. I see those ears. I know you hear us every time.”
“Listen,” Peter says. He grins and he hops up and down a couple times, and then he puts his hands on his face and pulls his cheeks down, gritting his teeth. “Big Dumb.”
“Still the cutest, muffin pie,” Tony says. He tugs him in and kisses him a couple times, and then he pulls him back and brushes off his shoulders.
“I’m extremely fancy business tuxedo man for the party,” Peter says. “For the gala. Where’s the flower for the pocket?”
“Another thing I think your Uncle has,” Tony says.
He kisses little monkey’s forehead again and gets to his feet, walking out of Peter’s room and into the hallway. The penthouse in New York was big but it feels like a tiny memory compared to this house, and he kinda regrets the fact that the guest rooms are so far away from his and Peter’s rooms. He likes everyone to be accessible so he can bother them when he needs to, not clear on the other side of the country.
The house is insane, it’s cool and it’s special and it was made with him in mind, but somehow he feels strangely separate from the shiny, cleanness of it.
“Hey!” he yells, striding across the walkway, peering down into the living room. He sees Happy is already down there, all dressed and watching TV, and Tony scoffs to himself. He hears little feet rushing after him, and he turns around, taking Peter by surprise and sweeping him up into his arms. Peter giggles, his long legs kicking as Tony drapes him over his shoulder.
“You’ll make me all ruffly!”
“You’re always ruffly!” Tony says, holding tight to him. “Hey!” he yells again, finally reaching the other side of the house.
“Hey!” Ben calls back, though Tony doesn’t see him yet.
He’s got four guest bedrooms up here and another two downstairs, and May and Ben have situated themselves in the one furthest to the back of the house, so they’ve got the best view of the water. Peter is patting an ongoing rhythm into Tony’s shoulder blades, and Tony turns to see the bedroom door is open.
“Are you heying us?” May asks, standing in front of the full length mirror in the corner.
She’s wearing a red beaded dress that looks a lot like something Tony’s seen Pepper wear in the past, and she’s putting on a pair of dangly earrings. Tony grins and swings Peter around, putting him on the ground beside him. Peter pats Tony’s stomach two times before he pads into the room, the only part of him not fancied-up yet being his little socked feet. He’s wearing his Elmo socks, and he shuffles on the carpet making his way over to May.
“Hay is for horses,” Peter says.
“That’s right,” May says.
“You look so so pretty and shiny,” Peter says, smiling brightly at her in the mirror.
She reaches down, brushing his hair from his face. “And you’re the most handsome, my little sweetness.”
Ben comes out of the bathroom, and Tony grins at him.
“How much product did you use?” Tony asks, looking at his hair.
“Listen,” Ben says, reaching down and one-arm hugging Peter when he rushes over. “I’m going for a very particular look.”
“He looks oiled up,” May says. She looks over her shoulder, smiling. “But still handsome.”
“Oh yeah, definitely still handsome,” Tony says, nodding. “I don’t think anything could change that.”
Ben winks at him.
“All the men are handsome!” Peter declares, throwing his hands up like he’s too exhausted to be saying it. “Me too I guess even though I don’t think so!”
“You’re the most handsome,” all three of them say, at the same time.
~
The gala is at the Four Seasons in West Lake Village, and when they get there, things are pretty much already in full swing. Tony made sure everyone in the company was invited, along with their spouses, kids and two plus ones, and he tries to tamp down the feeling that he went a little overboard. He told the team what he wanted and they’ve clearly gone above and beyond with all the details, and even the outside of the hotel is decked out in Stark banners, adorned with Christmas colors and lights.
“Why are we late to our own party?” Peter asks, scurrying along beside Tony, who’s walking at a normal pace.
“You got short little legs.”
“Next question!”
Tony snorts, and grins up at Ben. “We’re not late,” Tony says. “We’re—fashionably late.”
“That’s still late,” Peter says, tugging on Tony’s hand.
May laughs, and she looks a little nervous. “He’s right,” she says. “You can’t just say anything to that one. He knows what he’s talking about.”
Pepper comes striding out from one of the side hallways as they approach the ballroom, and Tony can hear Baby It’s Cold Outside playing, which he thought he said to leave off the damn playlist. Because Pepper doesn’t like it. She’s wearing a silver dress with that kinda mesh material that goes all the way up her neck, and it looks like something that might be soft if he danced with her or something. Got his hands on her waist. What?
He clears his throat and tries not to stare at her like a fucking lunatic.
“Rhodey’s gonna be late but he’ll be here,” Pepper says, and her eyes cut over to Tony just briefly before she looks away again.
“Got it,” Tony croaks. Moron.
“This is the first time I’ve dressed up like this since Mary’s wedding,” May says, as Pepper links arms with her.
“Well, you’re killing it,” Pepper says, grinning at her.
“I concur with that,” Ben says, with that curve to his voice.
“But why are we late?” Peter asks, as the ballroom comes into view.
“Can’t be the first ones here, monkey,” Tony says, holding his hand with both of his own as they pass a group from payroll. “Gotta roll up like the cool guys we are.”
~
It’s a lot different than the parties his father used to throw. Tony is definitely more tuned in this year than he has been in years past, though, with everything going on, and he’s more intent on making something enjoyable. Formal but informal. He was sure to tell everybody that he didn’t want company talk, no products or selling or numbers or potentials—
—and yes, he’s felt further and further from that as of late, and once all the obligations are filled he feels like he can make a change, make a step towards a change, and he hasn’t been taking new things, no new contracts, has only been fulfilling the things Obie set up when Tony was dealing with the aftermath of what happened to Peter—
But he’s not thinking about any of that right now, either. He’s living in the feeling of it, sure, the feeling of maybe becoming his own man for the first time in his life sometime in the near future, even though he’s full grown and has a son of his own. But that feeling lifts something off his chest that weighs heavy when he’s playing the part of Tony Stark, Stark Industries, Weapons Galore. He feels good, when he thinks about detaching from Howard. He feels good when he thinks about becoming the person Peter believes he is.
And he loves Christmas, and he thinks this will—help. Bring some smiles, hopefully.
Everything is decorated beautifully, in deep reds and greens, nothing too ostentatious. He’s got plenty of Christmas trees, though, and one in particular in the Garden Lawn for the kids to decorate.
“I wanna put it all the way up there,” Peter says, pointing to some innocuous spot close to the top of the tree. He might as well be pointing up at the sky. “So you gotta hold me up.”
There are already a bunch of ornaments near the top of the tree, because they knew kids would obviously not be able to get up there, but Tony will hold him up as high as he can manage. “Yes sir, yes sir,” he says.
Peter’s already selected a small, red and white microscope ornament, made of glass. He’s holding it very protectively, in the palm of his right hand with the left wrapped around it, like keeping it from the cold air.
Tony lifts him up and puts him on his shoulders, his legs dangling as Tony gets closer to the tree. There are all kinds of kids running around out here with their parents, most of them approaching the tree with excitement and reverence, but Peter doesn’t seem at all distracted by them.
“You got it monkey?” Tony asks, trying to peer up and see what he’s doing.
“Got it. Got it got it.”
Tony can only barely see him reaching, but he hears a lot of camera clicks behind him.
“Okay so you are gonna go here right now next to this white light because it’s super bright and then anybody can definitely see what’s under the microscope. If they want to.” He strains a little bit and Tony holds onto him tight, but then Peter hangs it and he leans back and pats his hands on Tony’s head. “Okay! Done!”
“Okay,” Tony says, stepping back but still keeping him up there. “You wanna do more?”
“Yes. Just a few more.” He giggles to himself, which makes Tony think he’s planning on more than a few.
~
A few turns into about ten ornaments, and Peter makes friends with Victoria from R&D’s niece and Doug from payroll’s son, and sets up some very cute photo opportunities that Tony knows he’s gonna insist be included in the newsletter.
Peter makes some bids on some random silent auction things, all three of which he says he wants donated to his school, and they finally start to head inside to meet back up with Ben, May, and Pepper in the main ballroom where all the food and drink related stuff is happening.
“I gotta go back outside to the tree with Auntie May and Uncle Ben,” Peter says, looking up at him.
“Yeah, we will,” Tony says, knowing he probably shoulda waited til May was done talking to Melinda from warehousing to go do cute Peter stuff, considering how much Melinda likes to talk, but he gets anxious and excited to do the cute Peter stuff, so—yeah, they gotta go back out there with Ben and May.
“And again when Uncle Rhodey gets here,” Peter says, squeezing Tony’s hand double time and looking up at him with those big eyes. “And Uncle Happy too, and him too.”
“Buddy,” Tony laughs, looking down at him as they weave around the white elephant gift swap game table. “We can stay til late and you can put up all the ornaments you want when nobody else is here.”
“But I also like when everybody is there and I’m there with everybody else, with you and everybody,” Peter says.
Tony grins at him. “Then we will go back,” he says. “After we get you some eggnog.”
“Yes!”
Tony searches for Ben and May, and catches sight of them over by one of the high tables, talking to a sampling waiter. Before he can start making his way over there, Obie cuts them off. He’s wearing one of his slick suits, all tidied up, and he laughs the way he does and reaches down, touching Peter’s shoulder.
Peter hugs against Tony’s side.
“Looks real good, Tony,” Obie says. “You did a good job with this one. Different, for sure.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was going for,” Tony says.
Obie raises his eyebrows. “A lot of our partners were wondering why you were so insistent on no shop talk,” he says. “Was it because of Mr. Man, here? Huh?”
“We just like Christmas,” Peter says, blinking up at him. “And Hanukkah. And holidays. And food and family and lights and stuff, all that stuff.” He clears his throat, looks away from him, but almost seems to force himself to look at him again.
“He’s right,” Tony says, patting Obie on the arm. “Just wanted to do something—fun. Didn’t want it to be focused on anything else, I guess. But I’m sure you’ve got plenty of events coming up where we can—shop talk til our eyes roll back.”
“Sure do,” Obie says, smirking. He ruffles up Peter’s hair. “I’ll see you two on the dance floor somewhere down the line. Remember, we’ve got cameras! Bring out your best moves.” He does some kind of half-assed two step away from them, heading to what Tony is sure are the partners in question that were bitching about the lack of deals and promotions and commissions going on tonight.
Tony laughs, looking down at Peter, who is fixing his hair. He retakes his hand and they head over to Ben and May, just as a tray of drinks is delivered.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me with the tree thing,” May says, clicking her tongue.
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“We’re gonna go back out there—”
“That woman could talk and talk and talk until she couldn’t talk anymore—”
“Pretty sure this Shirley Temple is for you, Tony, but I’m gonna do a little switcheroo here—”
“She told me her entire life story, Tony, honestly, and I didn’t want to be impolite—”
“May, swear on my life, there are plenty of ornaments and plenty of spots, and if all the spots are used up we’ll start decorating the already decorated trees, okay—”
“I will decorate every single tree,” Peter declares. He holds his chin high and talks over all of them. “Each one with you each and every single one!”
That brushes over any kind of anger May had, and she tugs Peter in and hugs him close to her. “Now there’s my sweet little kind angel. The best boy.”
“We need to take pictures by the menorah.”
“Yes we do.”
“Let’s find a spot,” Ben says, knocking Tony on the arm and sipping at his drink. “Claim a real table and pile up on all this food. Find Pepper.”
He starts off around the edge of the dance floor, past the main stage where the lead singer of the band they hired is crooning White Christmas.
“I can’t believe you just stole my drink,” Tony says. “Right in front of me.”
“I assumed it was yours, considering—”
“Considering I don’t drink anymore and people know that?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows.
Ben starts weaving between the tables, and Tony looks over his shoulder to make sure May and Peter are following. Peter still has his arms around her middle as they’re walking, and they seem to be in deep conversation, May carefully carrying what looks like a martini. Where the hell is Rhodey? And where’s Pepper? Not that he’s thinking about it too hard.
Ben smirks at him when he turns back around. “You want it back?”
“No, you look like you’re enjoying it. Not in me to deprive you.”
“Can’t believe you didn’t claim a table for yourself in the contract for this party,” Ben says, and Tony sees him making a beeline towards an empty one off towards the start of the food sampling line.
“Listen,” Tony says.
“Listening,” Ben says, taking another sip.
Tony scoffs. “Yeah, uh, I don’t have any excuse for that one,” he says. He was just focused on making it nice. Maybe it’s a little surprising that one of the planners didn’t take care of it, but he never made a note for anybody to do that.
He’s strangely glad they didn’t.
“May!” Ben yells, when he finds the table, and he ushers her over, pulling out her chair for her. He counts the chairs as May sits down, and Petey waits for Tony to pick a seat before he sits down next to him, hopping up onto plush velvet. “Okay, got one for Pepper, Happy and Rhodey,” Ben says, sounding satisfied with himself. “All set.”
Tony snorts, and feels like there’s some backstory to Ben being worried about losing his spot or not having a seat at the table. But he doesn’t know if it’s the right time to ask, and Ben downs the rest of the Shirley Temple. Jesus, Tony’s embarrassed as all hell that the whole company apparently knows he needs some baby drink because he can’t be trusted with anything else. What the hell would they do if he ordered a rum and coke? Pull a code red?
Petey gently grabs his arm, scooting his chair closer. The song changes to what sounds like a rendition of Christmas is Coming by the Muppets.
“We needta get that eggnog,” Peter says, resting his chin in the crook of Tony’s elbow. “And I need to put my elf hat on.”
“Yes,” Tony says. “Yes you do.”
~
For all intents and purposes, Tony knows Ben Parker.
Sure, he doesn’t know every detail of his past, doesn’t know the exact circumstances of how he grew up or all the reasons why he is why he is, but he knows him. Knows who he is now, knows how his moods change and what he values most and which of his laughs mean what. He knows how he takes his coffee, what kind of driver he is, what kind of chapstick he prefers.
And now, he’s almost sure something is wrong with Ben.
He isn’t positive, for a while, when he sees him bouncing around like a loopy golden retriever on the dance floor, and he disappears for a bit while Tony is out there dancing with Peter. And Pepper finally appears, distracting the shit out of Tony for a little while.
“Rhodey just got here—there he is,” she says, gesturing over to the doorway. He’s all dressed up in what actually looks like blue satin. He starts jogging over when he sees them, and Pepper shakes her head.
“Jesus, sorry,” Rhodey says, stopping in front of them. He’s holding a plate of three small quiches, two of them already bitten into.
“Yeah, looks like you got distracted on your way in,” Tony says. Which reminds him that he is currently distracted, and it was about Ben, and May isn’t anywhere yet either which is even weirder. He makes sure Peter is still with Happy—which he is, right outside the ballroom at the cookie making table. Okay, good.
“Rhodey,” Tony says. “Ben was uh, acting a little weird, did you see him on your way in?”
“He’s acting weird?” Pepper asks. She raises an eyebrow, and she’s so beautiful tonight—she’s always beautiful, but tonight—Christ, Tony, focus. “He isn’t drinking, is he? That’s not really like him.”
“Only seen him with Shirley Temples,” Tony says.
“I haven’t seen him,” Rhodey says, brows furrowed.
He starts looking around as the lights go a little lower with another song change, and Tony glances around too, eyes always landing back on where Peter is. Still there, still with Happy, okay. Where’s Ben?
“Where’s May?” Rhodey asks. “She’d know if something was wrong. She knows him like the back of her hand.”
“Yeah, where’s—”
And then Tony hears familiar, hysterical laughter, and as soon as he turns around May is there, holding onto Ben’s arm and shoulder. He’s tilting like a carnival ride and he keeps trying to sneak her kisses. He’s the one laughing.
“Something’s wrong,” May says, eyes serious.
“Jesus, bud,” Tony says, and he’s about to make another comment when Ben launches himself forward, and he would have absolutely taken Tony to the ground if Rhodey and Pepper hadn’t stopped him in his tracks.
“Listen,” Ben says, swaying, as May rushes back up alongside him. “Listen, Stark. Tony. We gotta talk about the stock market.” He snorts, and falls into an elongated laugh, his whole face screwed up.
“Something’s wrong,” May repeats, like that’s all she knows how to say anymore, and Tony can hear the panic in her voice.
“Okay, did he drink something?” Pepper says, moving around so she’s closer to May. “They’ve got very strong alcohol here, could be something he wasn’t used to—”
“He’s been on straight Shirley Temples all night,” May says.
“Straight Shirley Temples—would she be a curly line, May? A line that’s, you know?” He braces one hand on Tony’s shoulder, the other on Rhodey’s, and he looks like he’s trying to climb up onto a stair that isn’t there.
“Alright, Mr. Parker—” Rhodey says.
There are flashing red and green lights now, swirling around the room, and Ben holds up one hand like they’re as bright as the sun. “Mr. Parker,” he says. “That’s not me. I’m not. Formal, although I am dressed formally. In an old suit I had to get—retailored just for this….particular occasion.” He takes one step and his shoe skids on the floor, and he faceplants into Tony’s shoulder.
“Alright, alright—”
“We gotta get him sitting down—”
“Something’s wrong—”
“Okay, big guy,” Tony says, getting an arm around Ben’s waist as the other three try to clear the way back to their table without drawing too much attention to what’s going on here.
“Little guy!” Ben laughs, staring down at Tony. “Oh. Not too little. Very—you know, your stature, in the world, is much more important—”
Tony narrows his eyes. “What were you drinking, Ben? You look like me in the summer of ‘87.”
Ben narrows his eyes. “You don’t age, Tony. You just get better.”
They’re swaying as a unit, now, some kind of fucked up dance back and forth as they rush through the carpeted area of the ballroom. No one really seems to be taking notice and if they are they’re not moving to help, and Tony isn’t exactly positive how he feels about that. He lands on not wanting people to see Ben drunk off his ass, if he can help it, if only for Ben’s own peace of mind later.
“That’s real sweet of you,” Tony says.
“You’re real sweet,” Ben says, reaching over and tapping Tony on the nose. He reaches out and swipes at Rhodey, who’s right in front of them. “You too, Colonel. I never knew a Colonel. Well. No, that doesn’t count. But you’re the best one.”
Rhodey turns around and gives him an awkward smile, widening his eyes at Tony.
“Okay,” Tony says, depositing Ben at their table. “Okay—”
“Okay dokay,” Ben says, grinning, finger guns and all, with a big flourish.
“He’s just—a little inebriated,” Pepper says, looking at May, but May shakes her head. She hovers close to him, her hand on his shoulder, and Tony watches Rhodey pouring out a glass of water.
“No, I promise you,” May says, rubbing Ben’s shoulder. “He hasn’t had anything alcoholic all night. Swear on our lives. And either way this isn’t how he behaves when he’s drunk. He’s more of a—reflective drunk.”
Ben gazes up at her, smiling wider than Tony thinks he’s ever seen. “She’s like. The entire sun. But I can finally look at it, look right into it and see its beauty. And all its fiery rays.”
Pepper looks at Tony and raises her eyebrows.
“That’s not…” May doesn’t even look at Ben, she just keeps rubbing his shoulder. “That’s not normal. Something’s wrong.”
“You’re not normal,” Ben says, and he’s reaching up, framing her face with one of his hands. “You’re ethereal.”
“Alright, Romeo,” May says, still clearly concerned but blushing a bit, now.
But Tony narrows his eyes. “If you don’t think he’s drunk…”
Ben pops up like a Jack in the box, and he’s got both hands on Tony’s shoulders. “Just drunk on the world. Christmas. Big trees. Family. Drunk on that. And feelings. Love.”
“Okay,” Rhodey says, walking over.
“Oh, the military—”
“Drink some water,” Rhodey says, urging him to sit back down.
“Alright, alright,” Ben says, smirking at him as he takes the glass. They lower him down into his seat.
Tony feels a little uneasy. “If he’s not drunk, what are you thinking happened? Someone slipped him something? The guest list was well checked, there shouldn’t be any—untrustworthy weirdos here.”
May shrugs, continuing to hover close, while Ben downs the entire glass. “I’m just telling you. He hasn’t been drinking.”
Tony’s mind starts working a mile a minute. Why would someone slip Ben something? What would they have slipped him? Is it just someone messing around or someone doing something serious? Are they still here? Were they meant to be here or did they break in? Assume someone’s identity, like one of the waiters? They were all well checked, like everybody that works at every Stark event, so whatever this is, it shouldn’t be an employee. Shouldn’t be any of the guests either, but it could be a member of either group or it could be some prick that snuck in here, and are they still here? Did they sneak back out?
It hits him like a freight train, and he feels like an idiot for not realizing sooner, but if someone did slip Ben something, they weren’t trying to give it to him.
They were trying to give it to Tony.
He cracks his jaw and he hears little familiar footsteps rushing their way, and the whole world often goes silent for Peter and it’s nothing different now. Except as soon as Peter grabs onto Tony’s hip, Ben is launching himself out of his seat again.
“Peter! Peter Benjamin Stark! The best person in the world! The whole dang world! He’s here!”
Peter gasps like he doesn’t know about all that, even though it’s all true, and he glances up at Tony like he’s expecting an explanation, but he doesn’t wait for one before he’s approaching Ben.
“Uncle Ben!”
“Peter! Little popsicle!”
“Popsicle!” Peter repeats, walking over and peering up at Ben, one hand on his knee. Ben falls back into his chair again without being prompted by anybody this time. Peter hovers by his side, and Ben wraps an arm around him. Peter’s got his elf hat on now, and Ben lifts it off his head and puts it back down, tugging it over his ears.
“What’s wrong over here?” Peter asks, brows furrowed. “You’re yelling.”
Tony’s glad he’s close again, if something is fucking going on, and he turns around and sees Rhodey talking to Happy a little ways away. They exchange determined nods and Happy turns, striding out of the ballroom again.
Tony steps away from the group to meet Rhodey, but not too far.
“You thinking the same thing I’m thinking?” Tony asks, swallowing hard.
“Could just be a mix-up, could be something else,” Rhodey says. “But he’s gonna activate the security team just in case. Start with level one and work through the cameras, make sure of all the faces, but we better get the big guy out of here and back to your—well, maybe we should take him to the hospital.”
Tony grits his teeth and feels a little sick at that, trying to swallow down his trepidation. Of course some shit like this had to happen, when he wanted them out here having fun, hoping they’d realize everything was okay. So of course, some shit had to happen at Tony’s own, special, curated event.
Which, if it’s worst case scenario, means there’s someone here doing something sinister and they could get Peter they could get Peter they could they could—
“Fine,” Tony says. “But let’s not announce that. Let’s just. Do it.”
“I’ll drive, I’ll take one of the vans,” Rhodey says. “I’ll pull it around, yeah? Or you need me to help get him out?”
Tony shakes his head, already edging back towards Peter. “We got it. Just, uh, keep everything going, I guess, until—shit, I don’t know.”
“Happy’s got it covered,” Rhodey says, heading out again. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m worrying,” Tony says, giving him a look.
He closes the distance between him and his group, the mistletoe lights on the walls blinking merrily.
“—and you can be Rudolph if you believe hard enough because you’re big bright and shiny like him,” Peter says to Ben, while Ben nods at him like he’s telling him about a hidden bank account.
“Alright,” Tony says, lifting Peter up into his arms. “And I’m Santa.”
“Where’s the red suit?” Ben asks, blinking up at them.
“We heading out?” May asks, already grabbing onto Ben’s arm. “To—check this out?”
“Yes,” Tony says, exchanging a brief look with Pepper, who nods at him. She situates herself on Ben’s other side, and Tony feels like an asshole but he’s gotta put Peter first in case anything weird is actually going on.
He’s praying it’s just. A mix up.
“Front way?” Pepper asks.
“Yup,” Tony says, leading them out.
Peter’s legs dangle and he sighs, one arm around Tony’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, baby monkey,” Tony says, squeezing his side as they head for the main hallway. “For leaving. But we’ll do something again together soon, like soon soon. And it’ll be even better because we’ll do whatever you want.”
“Is okay,” Peter says, and he looks over his shoulder. “Uncle Ben’s okay right? He’s acting funny and not like Auntie May when she drinks wine, like this is big time crazy.”
“He’s gonna be fine,” Tony says, turning into the lobby, vaguely hearing Ben’s conversation with the girls behind them. “We’re gonna take him to the doctors real quick just to make sure and then we’re gonna go home and just. Relax.”
“And eat cookies?”
“And eat cookies,” Tony says, passing a couple of the more opulent trees and more R&D members that he’s sure are looking at their quick getaway. He definitely doesn't wanna draw attention to what the hell is going on if it’s nothing, if it’s some weird allergic reaction or something or some kind of mix-up, but he hopes Happy and the security team have it covered if it is something, and he’s panicking internally about everyone here, and hopefully if there is some asshole he’s just going after him, just one of the Tony Stark haters who doesn’t wanna hurt anybody but him.
No one else get hurt, nobody else, he can deal with it
But Peter can’t deal with it, can’t deal with him getting hurt
And why does someone have to fucking get hurt
It’s Christmas, this was supposed to be a good trip, why the hell is this happening
And are they even doing the right thing
There should be a doctor on site, should he even be bothering with taking Ben to his own personal doctor when there’s someone here, someone closer
Before he knows it they’re walking outside, out of the main corridor, leaving the party sounds and Christmas music behind. Peter taps on Tony’s temple.
“Stop with the brain.”
“I know.”
“Is loud.”
“I know, I know,” Tony says, readjusting his hold on him, glancing around to see where the hell Rhodey is.
“You don’t gotta carry me,” Petey says, drumming his hands on Tony’s shoulder now. “I know I’m big man now.”
“I’ll always be able to carry you monkey butt,” Tony says, giving him a fake glare. Then Tony starts looking around again, not knowing which van Rhodey’s coming with, or where from.
“Daddy, Daddy, Uncle Ben—”
“Tony!”
“Tony he’s seizing—”
Tony’s never heard May sound like that. Ever.
And he twists around and sees Ben stiff as a board and shaking and they’re lowering him to the ground—and there are only a couple other people out here but they’re gasping and reacting and Tony does put Peter down then, keeping hold of his hand and rushing over—
His heart banging in his ears as he skids down to kneel beside Ben, and God no, what the hell, no no no, what the hell does he do what the hell does he do how can he save him how how how—
“Tony do something!” May screams. “Ben, Ben, Ben, baby, stay with me, it’s okay, please, please—”
“Uh, uh, turn him onto his side,” Tony says, and he’s essentially saying it to himself, because he does it and they do it too, and he feels like his voice is coming from deep within his own head—
“I’m calling 911,” Pepper says. “I’m calling.”
Tony hears the screech of a car, and Peter lets go of his hand.
Panic.
“No, Pete,” Tony yells, already peeling off his jacket absentmindedly to put behind Ben’s head. Peter’s gotta stay with him. He’s gotta stay with him, he’s—
“Uncle Rhodey, help!”
Tony’s about to jump up and grab Peter again when he sees Rhodey running over, corralling Pete, the van’s driver side door still open behind him.
He skids down alongside Tony, next to Ben, and Peter hovers nervously behind Tony, one hand on his shoulder.
“Okay,” Rhodey says. “Lemme take care of this.”