Chapter Text
The first thing Tony Stark remembered about his son was how small he was. That was probably a ridiculous thing to remember. Babies were small, it was common sense. He'd seen plenty of them before. Friends had children. Employees had children. There were always babies at parties, weddings, or gatherings. Tiny humans with tiny fingers and enormous heads who cried for reasons Tony could never understand. But his son had been different. At least, that was what Tony told himself. Maybe every parent thought that. Maybe every father looked at his newborn and thought the same thing. Tony just remembered staring down at him and thinking that the entire world, his entire world had suddenly become very, very fragile.
It was sudden when his son came into the picture. It had been at a time where everything was in chaos. But he'd known one thing with absolute certainty. He would not become Howard Stark. He would not make his child wonder whether he was loved. He would not make his son grow up thinking that being useful was the only way to earn his father's attention. Tony had promised himself that. He'd even said it aloud.
"You're gonna have a better father than I did, kid."
The baby had stared up at him. Tony smiled.
"Yeah. I know. I'm already doing great."
The baby had yawned, Tony laughed quietly, adoring his little baby.
"Don't look so unimpressed," he said, his signature sarcasm dripping with arrogance, but he was still smiling down at him. The baby's mother, Elena, had been sitting on the hospital bed, watching them.
"You've been talking to him for twenty minutes."
"He's a good listener."
"He's three days old," she chided, but it had no real heat to it. She already knew how much he loved the baby.
"Exactly. No opinions yet."
She laughed.
Tony had met her at a charity event, and she'd been completely unimpressed by him. That had been the first thing he'd liked about her. Everyone else wanted something from Tony Stark. Elena just wanted him to stop talking.
"You know," she'd told him that first night, "you're actually less annoying when you're quiet."
Tony had looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
"That's possibly the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"You'll survive."
"I don't think I will."
"Tragic."
And somehow, that had become a relationship. For years, it had been good. But all good things must come to an end. Tony had always been busy. Then he became busier. Stark Industries had expanded. His father had died. Tony had inherited an empire and spent years trying to prove he could run it. There were board meetings and weapons contracts and research projects and parties and press conferences. Elena had waited. She had been patient for a long time. But eventually, she stopped. They hadn't had some dramatic breakup. There hadn't been screaming, no betrayal.
"I can't keep waiting for you to have time for me," she'd said one night.
Tony had tried to argue, a little bit. But it was obvious that he was tired too.
"I have a lot going on."
"I know."
"I'll make time."
"You've been saying that for two years."
When Tony went quiet, Elena looked at him.
"I love you, Tony."
There was a brief pause. Tony didn’t look at her.
"But I can't keep being second place."
"You aren't."
"I am."
She had left, and Tony had let her. Months later, when she called him and told him she was pregnant, Tony had nearly dropped his phone.
"You're what?"
"I'm pregnant."
There was a long silence.
"Tony?"
"I'm here."
"You don't have to—"
"I'll be there."
"Tony—"
"I mean it."
He had been. He helped from the sidelines where he could without arousing too much suspicion. He paid for everything, doctor’s appointments, a crib, and clothes. He made sure that she had enough money for herself as well. He converted an entire room in his penthouse into a nursery before Elena reminded him that newborns didn't actually need a fully automated crib capable of monitoring seventeen different biological functions.
"It has a night-light."
"It has a satellite connection."
"For emergencies."
"Tony."
"Fine."
He removed the satellite.
When the baby was born, Tony was there. He'd held him. He shed a few silent tears, which he would later deny. Elena named the boy Alexander. Alexander Anthony Stark. Tony liked the name.
"Alexander," he whispered.
The baby moved slightly.
"Alex."
Elena smiled tiredly.
"He likes that."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's my son."
Tony looked down at the baby. He always had a conceited expression, but his eyes lit up every time he looked at the baby. Elena smiled. Tony kissed the baby's forehead.
"I'll be better this time."
Elena looked at him.
"I know."
Tony hadn't realized how badly he needed to hear that. For the first year of Alex's life, Tony tried to be the best father he could. Even if he didn’t exactly have a role model to look up to.He canceled meetings whenever he could get away with it, he came home early, he warmed bottles. When Elena was tired from a long day, Tony offered to get Alex to bed. It was tedious, but eventually he would fall asleep.. and then wake up in the middle of the night. He learned that Alexander liked being carried. He learned that the baby would grab Tony's tie whenever he wore one. It was adorable. He just held it in his little hands, and Tony never could help the soft breathy scoff he gave whenever Alex played with his tie. And he learned that there was nothing in the world quite like hearing his son laugh. Tony adored him.
That was why that night absolutely destroyed him. It had been a Stark Industries gala. Tony didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay home. But the board had insisted.
"It'll take three hours," a board member explained.
"These things are never only three hours and you know it," Tony shot back, annoyed.
"Two, then."
Tony had sighed.
"Fine."
Pepper had offered to stay with Alexander. Tony trusted her. He kissed his son's forehead before leaving.
"I'll be back soon, buddy."
Alex grabbed his finger, Tony smiled feeling a little guilty.
"Yeah. Yeah, I know."
He looked at Pepper.
"Bed time is at 6pm. Make sure he doesn’t climb out of his crib."
Pepper rolled her eyes, "He's a baby, Tony."
"Exactly. They're unpredictable."
"Go, you’ll be late if you leave any later."
Tony left, taking one last look at Alex in Pepper’s arms.
He would regret that moment for the rest of his life.
The gala lasted four hours. Tony hated every second of it, but every time he tried to leave, a board member would intervene and go into a lengthy conversation with him. He stayed longer than he ever wanted or meant to.
He finally returned home after midnight. Something felt wrong immediately. The front door was open. Tony’s heart dropped.
"Pepper?"
But there was no response. He stepped inside slowly.. The house was a mess. A broken lamp, glass on the floor from the smashed window nearby..Tony's blood went cold.
"Pepper!"
He ran through the house when he found her near the living room unconscious. There was blood coming from her temple and faint pink around her neck.
"Pepper!"
He dropped beside her, quickly checking her pulse. Her heart was beating normally, and her breaths didn’t seem to be wrong in any way.
"Friday, call an ambulance."
"Yes, sir."
Tony looked around.
"Where's Alex?"
Silence. He felt as though his heart stopped.
"Friday?"
"Boss?"
"Where is my son?"
There wasn’t a quick response like always. Almost like the ai was hesitating.. Tony stood up, fast.
"Where is he?" Tony repeated, more harshly.
"I cannot locate Alexander Stark."
Tony froze.
"No…"
He ran upstairs, barely breathing. The nursery door was open. He ran inside and then stopped dead in his tracks. The crib was empty. Tony stared, feeling his pulse spiking up.
"No..."
He checked the closet, and found nothing. Bathroom; empty. Every. Single. Room. Nothing.
"Alexander!"
His voice broke.
"Alex!"
Nothing. Tony ran back downstairs. By now security arrived, medics checking on Pepper, police investigating the scene, the house was filled with people. But Tony couldn’t focus on them. Tony stood in the nursery holding the tiny blanket he'd bought for Alex.
"Find him."
One of the security officers swallowed.
"We're doing everything we can."
"That's not good enough."
"Sir—"
"Find my son."
They searched for days, then it became weeks. Then months. There were leads that all went nowhere. The trail always went cold.
Tony stopped sleeping, he didn’t care about anything. Pepper blamed herself, but Tony never did.
"You didn't do this."
"I was supposed to protect him."
"You were unconscious."
"I should've—"
"You couldn't have known."
Tony stared at the empty crib. He hated it now. It reminded him of what he’d lost.
"I promised him."
Pepper's voice softened.
"Promised him what?"
Tony looked down.
"That I'd be there."
But time was cruel and ruthless. The world kept spinning for everyone else, even though Tony felt like his entire life was destroyed. Of course, everyone had eventually found out that Tony Stark had a son, who had been kidnapped and was never found. There was no body, nor a ransom call from some random person, and no explanation. Alex disappeared entirely. Tony told himself that maybe if he found the body, maybe he would be able to put it all to rest. But it never showed up.
Tony refused to accept that his son was dead. If he was dead there would be a trail, if there was a trail, then Tony would find it. So, he kept searching. He funded private investigators, investigated criminal organizations, hell he even tore apart databases. He followed every lead. Every single one that he found out about. And there was nothing.
Eventually, people stopped saying "when Alex comes home." They started saying "if." And eventually, stopped talking about him entirely. Tony hated them for it, but he never stopped looking.
Somewhere across the country, a little boy was growing up. He didn't know his name was Alexander, he didn't know his father was searching for him. He only knew the people raising him as Mom and Dad. He loved them. They told him his name was— Well. It didn't matter. He was too young to remember much. Then one day, there was an accident. His parents didn't survive. The boy did. He was placed with relatives. Mary and Richard Parker took him in. He was barely old enough to understand what was happening. Mary sat beside him.
"What do you think we should call you?"
The little boy stared at her, he didn't remember. Mary looked at Richard.
"What about Peter?"
Richard smiled.
"Peter."
The little boy repeated it.
"Peter."
And that became his name. Peter Parker. He never knew it had replaced another. Years later, Mary and Richard died too. Another accident. A drunk driver hit them head on and only Peter survived. His parents had been killed on impact. So, Peter went to live with May and Ben Parker. And somehow, despite everything, Peter still managed to grow into a good kid. He was smart, and he talked too much. He loved science, and superheroes. His favorite had always been Ironman. Tony Stark was practically a god to him. Peter had posters plastered on his walls since he was little. He watched interviews, he had made his own merch, hell, he knew more about Tony's inventions than he probably should have.
"You're gonna wear a hole in that floor."
Peter looked up, Ben was standing in the doorway.
"What?"
"You've been pacing for ten minutes."
Peter glanced down.
"Oh."
Ben smiled.
"Big test?"
"Kind of."
"Need help?"
"No."
Ben raised an eyebrow.
"Okay."
Peter smiled.
"I've got it."
Ben walked away, and Peter looked back at the screen. A video of Tony Stark explaining a new reactor design played. Peter watched carefully. One day, he thought. One day I'm gonna meet him.
He never imagined it would happen because of Spider-Man.