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    Summary

    “Tony,” says a voice that isn’t Steve’s, “I need to talk to you.”

    It’s Nat. She sounds rough which gives him pause. His head is pounding and he’s still bitter about her switching sides, probably always will be, but he makes himself speak. “What could you possibly have to talk to me about?”

    “Peter,” she says, and everything stops. His heart, his brain, the world. 

    His breath is caught in his throat and he almost chokes on it. “Natasha. I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me right now I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

    Nat takes a deep breath like this is just as hard for her as it is for him. “He’s alive,” she says, and Tony can’t—he can’t, he’s having a heart attack or something, maybe a stroke, maybe both. 

    “How do you figure?” he grits, eyes closed now. Picturing Peter. Laughing, he was always laughing. Peter at seven chasing his puppy around with a stick, Peter at eight hiding under the covers with Tony, tracing the outline of the arc reactor with a finger, does it hurt?

    Yes it hurts. It hurts so much. It hurts every goddamn day. 

    or: Peter is raised by his biological father, Tony Stark, until he’s kidnapped by HYDRA at the age of 11.

    Language:
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