Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony Stark’s apartment was expensive in every aspect. It was a penthouse, proving to anyone who looked up that he could afford the very best, and – not coincidentally – offering the billionaire the opportunity to do what he did best; look down on the world as beneath him. It was a wide open floor plan, with expensive art of the walls, and hardwood flooring until the kitchen, where there was marble tile that matched the marble counter tops, black splash and accented the expensive appliances and oak and marble kitchen island.

The couch was the finest leather, the electronics were all beyond high-end, since tech was something that he knew better than pretty much anyone in the world. None of it showed, of course, but there was a TV that would come out of the ceiling, and with the access he had to the net and the web, he could stream anything, anywhere and at any time that he wanted. The fireplace was gas, but he preferred that, It was cleaner and neater than using wood, and it didn’t make his clothes smell like smoke.

Beyond the living area, there was a dining table that was big enough to seat four – and rarely used for more than one or two, at the most, There was a balcony that gave an amazing view of the city below, with a grilling area and a gas fire pit with lounge chairs and a safety rail. It also afforded Stark the perfect landing platform to come home without deactivating his suit. He could fly in and out whenever he wanted, and could avoid the annoying people who always clamored for his attention.

It was great being rich and famous – but only when it was convenient for him.

At the moment, it was very convenient. The door opened and he bowed, mockingly, as he waved a hand toward the living room. With a somewhat annoying high-pitched giggle, the woman he was with entered his apartment, clinging to his other arm, and looking around with interest.

And why not? It was Tony Stark’s abode, after all.

“Nice place.”

He shrugged, releasing himself from her hold with more alacrity than was polite, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“It keeps the rain off my head.”

She smiled at that, and Tony watched as she walked around the room, looking at the paintings on the walls, and running her hand along the back of the sofa. He’d spent the evening in her company, having chosen her out of the legion of women who had made sure to swarm around him at the cocktail party that Pepper had hosted at the art gallery. Not because she was any better than any of the others – they all looked the same to him, really, and tended to blur into one single fawning form, eventually (the only exception being Pepper, who had made it clear that their relationship was going to be platonic) – but because she was the one that made Pepper scowl the most when he’d flirted with her.

That had been enough for Stark. He’d laid a hand on her elbow, claiming her as his own for the evening, and had then used her as a shield against all the others, while at the same time remaining aloof enough that she couldn’t say he’d made any promises, verbal or otherwise and try to hold him to any kind of commitment.

Tony Stark didn’t do commitment well.

She walked over to the full bar that ran the length of one wall, near the bedroom, and looked back at him, artfully raising an eyebrow.

“Buy me a drink?”

“Sure.”

He walked over, opening a $400 bottle of wine without bothering to look and see what it was. He wafted the cork under her nose, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the aroma, delicately.

“Nice.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

Her eyes opened, looking up at him, smoldering with sexual tension, as one hand took the glass that he poured, and offered her, while the other ran down the front of his shirt, seductively. She took a sip of the wine and then set the glass aside, while her fingers hooked the buckle of his belt.

“Let’s move the party to the sofa.”

He smirked, not even bothering to hide how smug he felt, just then. Sometimes – most times – it was just too easy. The billionaire nodded, downing his own drink, and then allowed her to pull him over to the sofa, and then down onto it. She followed, sitting beside him – he was a little disappointed that she didn’t just straddle him, right then and there – and leaned over to kiss him, while her hand began to work his belt, fingers brushing against the front of his slacks, lightly.

Tony caught her lips with his, tasting the expensive wine and the lip balm she was wearing as he allowed his own hand to slide down her shoulder, following the curve of her breast until he had a handful of her. She moaned in appreciation, and he deepened the kiss as he debated how he wanted her – and where. A quickie on the sofa? Or did he want her in his bed overnight? He felt her undo his belt, and heard her chuckle – although he didn’t know what she was so pleased by. He wasn't even hard, yet.

“Excuse me…” the voice made Tony’s eyes open. It wasn't hers – and it sure as hell wasn't his. He turned toward the back of the sofa, and – incredulously – saw a small boy standing there, watching them. He was short, and had a thin, blue t-shirt and worn jeans, with old sneakers that had a hole in the toe of the right one. All of this was taken in an instant’s glance, and his gaze went to the boy, who had chestnut-colored hair with curls most women would kill for and big, expressive, brown eyes. “Could I get a glass of water?”

The woman lurched to her feet as if shot out of a cannon.

“What the hell? You have a kid?”

Tony scowled, more annoyed at her fury than anything. He looked up at her, and then over at the boy, blankly, and then back up at her.

“No. I’ve never seen-“

“Fuck off, Stark,” she interrupted. “I’m not here to be your personal show for some little kid. I-“

Tony stood up, too.

“Jessica-“

“Janice.”

“Janice. I don’t know who he is.”

“I’m out of here…” Muttering under her breath, she stopped long enough to pick up her purse before stalking across the room and whipping open the door, before looking back at him. “Don’t bother calling me.”

He hadn’t planned to, anyway, of course, but he still winced when she slammed the door. Shocked into dumb silence at the sudden turn of events, and at the appearance of some little kid that he knew he hadn’t seen before, Tony could only stare at the boy, who shuffled his feet, looking a little nervous.

“Water?” he repeated. “Please?”

Still staring at him Tony walked over to the bar, pulled a bottle of water from the minifridge and poured it into a glass before handing it over.

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry your friend left.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Peter…”

Chapter Text

“What?” the way he said it made it sound like that was all the explanation that he needed to give. “Peter?”

“Peter Parker.”

Tony scowled.

“How did you get in here?”

“Walked in.”

“Jarvis?”

“Yes?”

“What the hell?”

“Elaborate.”

“Why is there a little kid in my apartment?”

“He came in about an hour ago.”

“And you didn’t think I should know?”

“You told me no interruptions, earlier,” the AI pointed out.

“This would be something that you interrupted me to tell me,” Tony snapped, annoyed at how calm his AI sounded. He looked at the little boy “What are you doing here? Where are your parents?”

Jesus, someone had to be looking for him.

“I don’t have any.”

“What?”

“Parents,” the boy repeated. “I don’t have any.”

Oh.

“Well, where are you supposed to be?”

“At Eric’s.”

“Who’s he?”

“The man who runs the home. Eric Tatro.”

“Do you have a number? Jarvis? Find out who he belongs to and call them. They must be going crazy looking for him.”

“I’m going to need more than Mr. Tatro,” the AI replied. “There are 47 Tatros in Manhattan, alone, Seventeen are named Eric, or E. If you add in the boroughs, there are-“

“Call a cop. Better yet, call building security. Let them deal with him.”

“Yes, sir.” There was a pause, while Tony and the boy stared at each other. “They will be here in a minute.”

“Good.” Tony scowled at the boy. “You’re probably in a lot of trouble, you know? Breaking into someone apartment without knocking? Being out past your bedtime. Walking-“

“I didn’t break in. I opened the door. I didn’t break anything.”

“You’re trespassing. They put people in jail for that,” Tony told him, annoyed. He’d ruined a perfectly good tryst, after all. And wasted the night’s efforts. “Probably won’t get out until you’re eighteen.”

“Ten years for trespassing?”

Which told Tony he was eight. And could do simple math.

“Maybe more,” Stark told the kid. “I’m pretty famous, you know.”

“Yeah.”

The boy continued to stare at him. An odd kind of look. Not the hero worship that Tony was used to seeing on the faces of the kids (and adults) that he saw, usually. This boy’s expressive eyes were uncertain. He almost looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure that he could. Or should.

“Did you sneak in here for an autograph?” Tony asked. “Because I don’t do them. My secretary signs everything and tells people that it’s mine.”

“No.”

“Why, then?”

The kid hesitated.

“I just wanted-“

A knock on the door interrupted them, and two of the building security people appeared. Both were men. Both hulking and intimidating.

“Everything alright, Mr. Stark?” one asked, looking at the two.

“No. Young Mr. Parker here just showed up in my apartment when I came home a few minutes ago. I’d take it kindly if a) you found out where he belongs and return him there, and b) you make sure the security supervisors understand that I like my privacy and would appreciate it if they did a better job of protecting it.”

“Yes, sir.” They crossed the room, looking annoyed at being lectured by the billionaire. “Come on, kid.”

Peter looked at the two men, and then back at Tony. He handed him the glass, which was empty, now.

“Thank you for the water.”

Without another word, he turned. One of the men caught his arm in a beefy hand.

“Don’t hurt him,” Tony said, surprising himself. “Just get him out of here.”

“Right.”

A moment later, they were gone.

“Jarvis? Find out who he is, and how he got in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And next time someone sneaks in, for fuck’s sake, tell me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony set the glass on the bar and went to take a shower.

Stupid kid.

><><><><><><> 

Peter was sitting in a chair in the security office when the door opened and a large man came through the door. He was obviously hurriedly dressed, with sweats, tennis shoes with no socks, a t-shirt and a jacket on over it. Easily 6’5, he towered over the security officer who had been waiting for him, and probably outweighed him by a hundred pounds. And none of it was fat. Blonde hair that was cut into a crewcut, and steely blue eyes, the man gave the little boy an exasperated glance before turning to the security officer and fishing out his wallet for his ID.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

He turned to the security guard.

“Did he break anything?”

“Nope. Just annoyed Tony Stark.”

The man frowned, and looked back at Peter.

“Tony Stark?”

The boy looked down at his feet.

“Got into his apartment, somehow,” the security guard said. “Mooched a glass of water…”

“Are you crazy?”

“No.” Peter hesitated. “I just wanted to talk to him.”

There was a long, drawn out sigh.

“You’re too smart to be that dumb, Peter boy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can I take him home?”

“He’s all yours.”

The man held out a huge hand, and Peter got out of the chair and took it. Despite their size difference, Peter had no trouble keeping up with his long strides as they walked from the office and down the corridor toward the elevator.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.”

“Then you woke up and said to yourself ‘I think I’ll go bother Tony Stark’?”

“No.” But really, that was almost exactly what had happened. “I had a dream…”

“You’re always dreaming.” The voice was gruff, but the hand holding his squeezed, gently. “Was it a nightmare? Or a dream?”

“A dream.”

“About what?”

“He was telling me how to be a superhero.”

Another sigh.

“You’re a lot of things, Peter Parker,” Eric Tatro told him. “You’re brilliant. And brave. And you’ve got a stronger spirit than anyone I’ve ever met. But you’re too young to be a superhero.”

“I know. I just-“

The elevator opened and they got in. There were two tough-looking young men standing in it, already, and both sized up the newcomers. Peter they dismissed with a glance, but both of them took a careful step away from Tatro, recognizing that the man wouldn’t put up with any foolishness, and not even close to being drunk enough to challenge someone so formidable-looking. The boy leaned against the big man’s leg, and felt that big hand come to rest on the top of his head. He smiled when Eric began moving him around, pushing his head this way and that, and when he looked up, the man who was his foster dad was smiling down at him.

“If anyone asks, I yelled at you for getting me out of bed to come down and get you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They got off at the garage level, and Peter walked with him over to his car, but as he got into the back seat and buckled in, he looked back at the elevator, almost longingly.

He had to talk to him. Tony Stark was probably the only one who could help him. Eric was great, and Peter really liked him, but the man didn’t know anything about superheroes, and Peter needed an expert. Since the only other ones he knew about were at the Avenger’s compound which was definitely out of walking distance, Peter knew it had to be Tony Stark.

He just needed to get him alone.

When he did, he promised himself that he wouldn’t freeze, again, and would make himself actually talk to him.

Chapter Text

“Wait… he just walked into your apartment?”

“According to the security footage Jarvis showed me, yeah. Opened my door and walked right in about 45 minutes before I did. I didn’t even notice him.”

“That’s a little creepy. Why didn’t Jarvis tell you he was there?”

“Because he’s being too literal.”

“You don’t lock your door?”

“Of course I lock my door, Pepper. It’s a code.”

“Then how did he get in?” she asked, curiously.

“He keyed in the code – guessed it on the first try.”

“Really?” she frowned. “It isn’t 1,2,3,4… is it?”

Stark rolled his eyes.

“No. But it isn’t that hard to guess. I don’t need passcodes to keep people out. I have Jarvis.”

“And he does such a good job. Did you figure out who he is? I mean, if he’s eight, then he’s probably not some kind of nefarious burglar, is he?”

“No. Not as far as I could find.” Tony didn’t have to look at any notes. He had an excellent memory. “Peter Parker. Eight years old. Parents died in a plane crash and he was left to his aunt. Until she was caught using him to calculate betting odds for her bookie and was sent to jail a few months ago – and he was sent to a foster home, since she’s his only relative.”

“When does she get out?”

He frowned.

“She doesn’t. She was killed by her roommate a week in. Apparently she wasn't as slick as she thought she was and made the wrong person angry.”

“Oh, my.”

“Yeah. He’ll be in foster care for another nine or ten years. Or when he graduates, whichever comes first.”

“So in nine or ten years.”

Tony shrugged.

“He’s pretty smart. At least all the records Jarvis got hold of say that he is.”

Tony had the AI digging a lot deeper than anyone else would be able to go, thanks to his interface with all things related to the web and the Stark network.

“How smart?”

“Speaks three languages, does high school level calculous and plays every instrument that he touches by ear.”

“At eight?”

“Yes. They have him in a special school – on scholarship – and he’s been in it since he was three.”

“That’s incredible.”

“He probably gets beat up a lot, too,” Tony said, shrugging. “He’s not a very big guy – even for eight.”

><><><><><> 

“Wait… you saw Tony Stark?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. What was he like? Was he in the Ironman suit? Did he fly in? Were you-“

“He was on his couch, kissing some woman,” Peter interrupted. “It was gross, Ned. She was making these noises, like you see in the movies, and-“

“He was making out?” The older boy looked impressed. “What did she look like?”

“It’s not important. I-“

“Eat up, guys,” Eric’s cheerful voice interrupted their conversation, and Peter, Ned, and the other four boys around the table all turned their attention on the hearty breakfast that was on the table.

“Did Peter really see Tony Stark last night?” one of the other boys asked.

“He did,” Tatro confirmed. “And he’s in a lot of trouble because of it. So I don’t want any of you getting any bright ideas about trying it. Understood?”

The other boys were all older than Peter – and Ned – and they were looking speculatively at the smallest of them. Peter knew the look. In the few months that he’d lived in the group home that Eric and his wife ran, some of the older boys and come and gone. The majority were okay, but there always seemed to be one or two that were bullies of one sort or another, and they loved to single Peter out to tease or torment. They were well aware that as small as he was, he didn’t have a chance against any of them separately, and certainly not if they ganged up on him. He’d been pushed around a little from time to time – usually because they didn’t like that he was smarter than they were and went to a private school – but they hadn’t actually hurt him. Peter backed away whenever they started in on him, and made himself scarce.

They assumed it was because Peter was afraid of them and didn’t want them to hurt him, but Peter had a secret, and he knew that nothing any of the boys – even the teenagers – could do could really hurt him. At least, not physically. Being teased wasn't fun, though, and he knew he was sensitive – especially about being pretty much an orphan, now.

He stood up, grabbing a piece of toast and wrapping it around a sausage link.

“I need to go,” he said, quickly. “I want to do some research before school.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“No. I’ll take the bus. Thanks.”

Eric looked at him.

“Right home from school. Understand?”

“Yes.”

He left, then, and as he walked to the bus stop, he pulled out his cell phone. It was a dinosaur, but he was lucky to have one at all, and Peter had tweaked his a bit, adding unlimited data to his plan, and amping up the processor to make it faster. He had to go to school, but he had a large block of free study time after lunch, and after a quick search, he knew exactly where to find Tony Stark during that time.

Maybe he’d have a chance to get him alone to actually talk to him, this time.

><><><><> 

The restaurant was an outdoor one. Not very common for Tony, who definitely preferred to eat out of the public eye. Unless, of course, he was showing off. Which was the case. The senator had asked to meet with him, and since he’d asked nicely, and he wasn't one of the many that Stark just couldn’t stand on sight, he’d agreed. When they’d met at the restaurant, however, and the senator’s aide had tried to usher Tony into a small and very private room (probably to try and get some kind of concession out of him – or maybe ask him to show up at his kid’s birthday party) Tony had scowled, mentioned that it was a lovely day and had walked out to the outdoor seating area. Which left the senator with a choice of coming to him, or eating alone.

Not surprisingly, he’d joined Stark at his table and Tony hadn’t bothered to hide the smirk when he’d seated himself.

The meeting had been a request for some information on one of the many mergers that Stark Industries was involved with. Tony was bored almost immediately, and not bothering to hide it. Only the fact that he was in the limelight was keeping him from excusing himself and going back to his workroom to start on the newest version of his suit, instead.

He was halfway through his lunch (which wasn't too bad, he had to admit) when the senator suddenly stopped his endless droning.

“Don’t look now, Stark, but I’d say you have a fan…”

The billionaire followed his gaze and actually felt himself do a double check when he saw the same kid that had been in his apartment the night before standing close to the outer perimeter of the patio area, hands on the metal railing and swinging on them lightly, but eyes never leaving Tony’s form.

“Son of a… are you kidding me?”

“You know him?”

“What? No. I’ll be right back.”

The billionaire tossed his napkin on the table and stood up. He walked over to Peter and scowled down at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

“Yeah. I see that. Go home.”

“I’m supposed to be in school…”

“Then get your little butt to school, before I call a truant officer.”

“They don’t have them, anymore.”

“Don’t be a wiseass.”

The boy hesitated, hearing the annoyance in the man’s voice and easily reading it in his features. Now wouldn’t be the time to ask a favor from him, would it? He felt his face flush, heatedly.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t do one-on-one interviews. Now go home. Or to school.”

“But-“

“Go, Peter, or I’ll call a cop.”

Tony turned and walked back to the table without a second glance, and Peter watched him go. The boy wasn't sure what to do, next, and his uncertainty must have shown in his expression. A passerby stopped, kneeling down next to him, and put his hand on his scrawny shoulder. Peter didn’t know the man, and something inside him was beginning to tingle; a warning that he needed to not be where he was.

“Are you lost?” the man asked, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looked around, and his smile not at all sincere. More predatory, although Peter didn’t understand the odd look – or why it made him uneasy. “Let’s go find your mom.”

“No. I’m fine.”

His unease was more of an impetus to make him move than Tony Stark telling him to get lost. He moved away, quickly, running down the sidewalk and vanishing easily, like he did so well, nowadays. He hadn’t handled that well, either, but something inside him told him it didn’t matter. He didn’t understand obsession, ,and didn’t know why he was so determined, but he needed to talk to a superhero, and that was going to have to be Tony Stark.

“Who was he?” the senator asked, curiously.

He’d been able to watch the interaction, but not hear what had been said.

Stark shrugged as he sat down.

“Just a fan. You were right.”

The senator had been watching the boy, still, and had frowned when the man knelt down beside him. He didn’t hear the exchange between those two, either, but Tony saw concern in his expression, and turned to look back that direction. Just in time to see Peter take off at a quick run, and a man standing up and watching him go.

He frowned, too, feeling just the slightest sliver of concern. As if the man was aware of their contemplation, he turned and walked away – the opposite direction that Peter had gone. Tony turned back to the senator, allowing the moment to pass.

“You were saying something about wanting in on the ground floor of the merger…?”

“What?” the politician jerked his attention back to the billionaire. “Oh. Right. What will it take?”

Stark shrugged.

“Talk to Pepper Potts. She’ll be able to give you more information about that side of things.”

He turned his attention back to his lunch, and listened to the senator drone, once more.

Chapter Text

“Done with your homework?”

Peter nodded, looking up at Eric who had walked up behind him. He hadn’t snuck up on him, though, because no one could sneak up on Peter, anymore. He’d had plenty of time to open a new window on the computer to mask what he was doing.

“Yes.”

The large man ruffled the boy’s curls, affectionately, looking at the mathematical equations on the display of the computer.

“What are you doing?”

“Just messing around.”

“You’re a pretty impressive kid,” Eric told him, sincerely. He had only had Peter at his group home for a few months, now, but the kid was amazing. More brilliant than anyone that he’d ever met – and Eric had gone to good colleges before he’d settled down to raise his own son as well as the foster kids that he and his wife took in. Peter was like one of those prodigy that you saw documentaries about, and Tatro was determined that even though he was in the system, it wasn't going to keep the boy from succeeding in everything that he wanted to do. Who knew, he might cure cancer, someday. “Don’t stay up too late, alright?”

“I won’t.”

Peter didn’t sleep, much. Rather than force him to stay in his bed – and his restlessness would keep the other boys awake – he was allowed to use the home’s computer to work on whatever projects that he had going on in that amazing brain of his. The Tatros already knew that he wasn't interested in the porn sites, so they were fine with anything that could make him smarter, and maybe make him sleepy. As long as he didn’t look tired, or fall asleep in class, or something, the privilege would continue, and Peter was careful to make sure he didn’t lose it.

Without asking, though, he’d tweaked the network and then hacked into the cable company’s system to allow them more data speeds. Peter was great with computers, and couldn’t remember a time when he wasn't. He was intending to use that ability, too, because he needed to find Tony Stark’s schedule, and get the man alone.

He needed his help, after all. He just needed to figure out how to ask him.

The boy waited until everyone else had gone to bed and then switched back to the other screen he’d been using. It was a complex mapping program that he’d been playing with in his spare time, before, but now was using it, seriously. He’d had no problem getting into Tony Stark’s door; the code was the man’s birthday and Peter had that memorized. But he knew that there was a lot more to the security there than just the large men who had come to get him from the apartment. He’d noticed that there were magnetic locks on the patio door, and other tell-tale signs of modernization.

Tony Stark probably had a smart house. Peter needed to break into that system so he could track the superhero’s activities. Could find out where he’d be. Where Peter might be able to catch him without anyone else there to distract him. Where Peter could talk to him.

After almost an hour of coding and probing, he was pretty sure he knew where he was in the digital mapping. His little fingers flew on the keyboard and his eyes never left the display in front of him. Just as he was about to hit the enter key, though, the screen went dark, and then flared red and gold and a single word appeared on the lower corner.

“Hello.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn’t quite finished what he’d been doing, but it appeared to have worked. He hesitated, and then responded.

“Hello. Who are you?”

“JARVIS. Who are you?”

“I’m Peter.” He heard someone making a noise in their sleep, and turned down the brightness on the screen. “How are you?”

“I’m well, Peter. How can I help you?”

The boy hesitated.

“I’m trying to talk to Tony Stark.”

“Shall I call him for you?”

“No. He would just get mad. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Is it so important?”

“Yes.”

“How can I help?”

“I need his schedule for the next week. Do you know where I’d find that?”

“I make his schedule for him.”

“Are you his secretary?”

“I’m his AI.”

Peter smiled, flush with amazement. Of course, AIs weren’t that impressive, really; they could only spit back what you programmed into them, but Tony Stark was brilliant, Peter knew. Ironman’s AI was probably better than most.

“Could you help me?”

“Of course.”

><><><<><> 

Tony was beat. He’d stayed up late working on a new concept that he was thinking about for the newest incarnation of the Ironman suit. Bigger and faster, and smarter were always his goals when it came to the suits. Always. He’d fallen into his bed around four am, and now it was seven, and he was sitting at his kitchen island, eating a couple of granola bars and washing them down with a glass of scotch.

“JARVIS? What does my schedule look like, today?”

“A meeting this morning at the tower. Lunch is open. Two more meetings, after, and then dinner with Colonel Rhodes.”

“It’s Tuesday?”

“It is.”

“Where am I eating?”

“The Palace. Shall I tell Colonel Rhodes to meet you there?”

Stark frowned.

“The Palace? What is that?”

“An Italian place. In Queens.”

“What? Why am I going to Queens to have dinner with Rhodey? Why can’t we go somewhere closer?”

“The food is exceptional.”

“Huh.” He shrugged. “Fine. Tell him to meet me at 7 o’clock.”

“It is a casual restaurant, sir,” his AI told him. “Perhaps dressing down to avoid the public eye might be in order.”

“Yeah.” He finished his drink, shoved the last of the granola bar into his mouth and headed for the shower.

><><><><> 

Happy frowned as he pulled up in front of the pizza place.

“You’re really eating here?”

Tony frowned, too.

“JARVIS? What’s that place called?”

“The palace. You’re at the right spot.”

Sure enough, James Rhodes was standing near the door, watching as kids and adults swarmed in and out of the front door. He walked over to the car as Tony was getting out, waving Happy away to close the door, himself.

“A pizza place, Tony?” His friend’s voice was incredulous. “Really?”

Not wanting to look as if he hadn’t planned everything to the letter, Stark affected an indifferent shrug.

“You like pizza.”

“Yeah.”

“So do I.”

Rhodes wasn't fooled.

“You, me and 100 of our best friends under the age of ten?”

“Something like that.” Tony pulled his hat down low. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

“Whatever you say.”

They walked into the place, and were immediately assaulted by a cacophony of music, kids yelling, video games and sporting events on every monitor in the place. Tony led the way to an empty table and a waitress brought them menus and offered to get them drinks.

“Tell me how the suit did,” Stark said as they waited for the pizza that they ended up ordering.

The War Machine suit wasn't as impressive as Tony’s Ironman suit, but he was working on refinements every chance he had. The newest version had been up at the Avenger compound, and Rhodey had been there with it, testing it out that day.

“Worked like a charm. The blasters need to retract more quickly, though, and…” he trailed off when he realized that they weren’t alone.

Tony followed his gaze, and scowled.

“Seriously?”

Standing beside the table they were seated at, holding a slice of pizza and watching him, was a face that was beginning to be very familiar.

Peter smiled, uncertainly.

“Hi.”

Chapter Text

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.

“You know him?” Rhodey asked, surprised.

The boy looked at James.

“I’m Peter.”

“He doesn’t care,” Tony told him. “Answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“Eating.” He gestured with the hand holding the pizza toward a large table in the corner. There was a woman with blonde hair, sitting with a giant of a man and six boys ranging from Peter’s age to sixteen or seventeen. To judge from their various complexions, they weren’t related by blood – which told Tony they were probably the people that were fostering Peter, and the other boys living in the home. “We come here every third Tuesday. As a treat.”

“Well go back and sit with them. You shouldn’t be bothering people – and you shouldn’t be by yourself in here. Someone might try to kidnap you, or something.”

Peter nodded, but he didn’t leave. His expressive brown eyes were watching Tony, almost hungrily.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, hesitantly. “I-“

“Seriously?” Tony scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Tony…” Rhodes frowned at the way his friend was acting. “He’s just a little guy. Don’t be a dick.”

“He’s stalking me, Rhodey. The kid’s a menace.”

“He can hear you, you know?” Rhodes smiled at Peter. “What kind of pizza are you eating?”

“Cheese.”

“I like cheese pizza, too.”

“He broke into my apartment last week,” Stark said, interrupting, annoyed.

“What?” He looked at Peter, surprised. “Really?”

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Why? How?”

“It was easy,” he replied. “I-“

“Peter!” The boy was interrupted by an arm coming around him from behind, and the men saw one of the older teens had come over to get him. “What are you doing?”

“I was talking to-“

“They’re strangers, you dumb fuck,” the teen snapped, looking at the two, suspiciously. It was a measure of just how of place Tony Stark would be in the pizza restaurant that the teen didn’t even recognize him. “You don’t just go walking up to strangers and start conversations. You know better than that.”

“But-“

“Come on. Mom’s ready to go, and you need to finish eating.”

He pulled the still protesting boy away and practically dragged him back to the table, and Rhodes and Stark both watched until he was out of sight, blocked by the bulk of the man.

“What was that all about?”

“Beats the shit out of me,” Tony told him, honestly. “All I know is he’s a persistent little guy.”

“But what does he want?”

“Who cares? He’s eight. Probably an autograph, or something. Finish telling me about the suit.”

He listened as Rhodey told him about the various tests that he’d run on the suit, and then scanned some data that JARVIS downloaded into his network for him. When the big guy walked by with all the boys and the woman, he looked up and watched them go, catching the eye of the littlest of them as he walked by. Those brown eyes looked almost desperate, but Tony turned away, to finish what he was doing and take a bite of his pizza.

Rhodey was watching, too.

“What are the odds we’re eating the same place he is?” he asked, well aware that in a city the size of New York, they were astronomical.

“Crazy stupid.”

He’d have to buy a lottery ticket, or something.

><><><><>< 

It was much later that same evening. Peter was in front of the computer, again, and the house was silent, since everyone had finished their homework and gone to bed. He pulled up the program that he had hidden on the hard drive, and was excited when his query had an immediate response.

“Hello, Peter.”

“Hi, JARVIS.”

“Your plan didn’t work?”

“No. I froze. And then, before I could say anything, Kyle came and got me.”

“We can try again,” he was assured. “Tony Stark has a very fluid schedule, and I always know where he’s going to be.”

“I appreciate that.”

“May I ask you what you are hoping to ask him?”

Peter hesitated.

“It’s kind of a secret…”

“I wouldn’t tell him.” As if the AI understood his reluctance – and Peter knew that was probably just his imagination – there was a pause. “Perhaps if I knew what it was regarding, I’d be able to help you more.”

With quick keystrokes, Peter filled in the AI on his last few years, trying not to sound too pathetic – although he knew that the story was a terrible one. How many people had said that to him the last two years? JARVIS ‘listened’ patiently, asking a few questions to prove that he was there and paying attention.

“When I moved in here,” Peter typed. “Eric already knew I was pretty smart. I go to a private school on a scholarship that I’ve had since before my parents died. And before May went to jail.”

“Do they treat you well?”

Peter smiled, feeling a little teary-eyed at the question. It meant someone cared about him outside the small confides of the group home. Someone knew about him. Even if it was just a computer on the other side of their conversation.

“Yes. I mean, we’re not rolling in money; the Tatros only get $140 a week for taking care of me, and the same for the others. It sounds like a lot, but we eat a lot and they always need new clothes, and rent, power bill, cable, and everything. They’re kind, though.”

“So you aren’t being abused and don’t need Tony Stark to come rescue you?”

“No.” Another hesitation. “You really wouldn’t tell?”

“Not if you didn’t want me to.”

“Two months ago my class went on a field trip. To a science lab where they were working with radiation and all kinds of different kinds of bugs and insects. Something happened,” he typed. “I don’t know exactly what, but I think maybe I got bitten by something. I got home, fine, but later that night I got really sick.”

“But you recovered.”

“Yeah. But now I can do things that I couldn’t do before. Weird things. And I am stronger, and I can see in the dark, pretty much.”

“What does this have to do with Tony Stark?”

“He’s a superhero, right?”

“He’s Ironman,” JARVIS agreed.

“I was hoping that he might be able to tell me what to do, next. Or what I’m supposed to do. Now that I have these abilities, I mean.”

There was a short pause.

“I understand.”

Peter didn’t see how he could, since Peter didn’t really understand it, himself. But he felt relieved to have told his secret to someone else.

“I keep telling myself that when I see him I’ll tell him what I can do. But then I freeze up and nothing comes out like it’s supposed to.”

Mainly because Tony Stark obviously didn’t like him.

“Then we will have to give you the opportunity to see him,” JARVIS replied. “I make his schedule, so I’ll tell you each evening where he’s going to be, and you figure out a way to be there.”

“You’d do that?”

“Not normally, I wouldn’t. However, in your case I could make an exception.”

“Why?”

“Because perhaps while he is helping you, you might be able to help him.”

Peter frowned, wondering what a rich guy who had everything and knew everyone could possibly need from an eight-year-old.

“I’d help him. If I could. It’s worth a try, right?”

“Indeed.” There was another pause on the other side of the conversation. “Tell me more about yourself, Peter.”

Relieved to have someone to talk to that he didn’t need to share with 5 other boys, Peter did.

Chapter Text

“Are you even paying attention?”

Tony scowled, jerking his gaze back to Pepper.

“What? Yeah. Of course.”

Her scowl was a match for his own.

“Why do you look so nervous? Tell me you didn’t get some woman pregnant and now you’re avoiding her – or her angry father – and trying to figure out how to tell me so I can handle the nightmare publicity.”

“I didn’t get anyone pregnant,” Stark responded.

He turned and looked over his shoulder, again, though.

“Then what is it?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“I’m being stalked,” he said, speaking softly. “And I think JARVIS is in on it…”

Pepper raised an incredulous eyebrow, and looked around. They were on the balcony of the tower, admiring the view and discussing some upcoming meetings over a very private lunch.

“Your AI is stalking you?”

“No. A little kid is. I think JARVIS is helping him, though.”

“A little kid?”

“Yeah. The one that broke into my apartment last month.”

“Patrick?”

“Peter.”

“You’re being stalked by an eight-year-old?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It just sounds crazy when you say it like that. But, yeah. Every time I turn around, he’s there.”

“What does he say?”

“Nothing. I tell him to get lost. Presuming he gets close enough to talk to me. Sometimes he just stares at me for a minute and then vanishes. It’s creepy.”

“Yes…” she couldn’t hide her sarcasm. “Because little boys are so spooky.”

“The kid’s some kind of Ninja, Pepper,” Tony told her. “Seriously. One minute he’s standing there, and the next he’s gone. And he knows my schedule. He has to. I see more of him than I do Happy – which is saying something, since he’s my driver.”

“How would he know your schedule?” she asked. “I don’t even know it, most of the time.”

“I think he’s hacked JARVIS.”

“An eight-year-old hacked your billion dollar AI?”

“Stop saying it like that,” he complained.

“Like what?” she asked, shaking her head. “Like I think you’re crazy?”

“Yes. I’m not. JARVIS makes my schedule, based on everything I need to do on a particular day, and almost any time I’m outside, I can almost guarantee that I’ll turn around and find Peter Parker standing somewhere close at hand.”

“It could be coincidence.”

“It isn’t.” He looked around. “It’s spooky. I’m thinking a restraining order might be in my future.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You think a judge is going to put a restraining order out on an eight year old? He’d be more likely to add to your impressive collection.”

Tony scowled.

“Those are all expired.”

“He’s not going to climb up the side of the building,” Pepper pointed out. “So stop looking so nervous.”

“I’m not nervous. It’s just annoying.”

“Did it ever occur to you to just ask him what he wants?”

“I can’t just go chatting up a little kid, Pepper,” he replied. “If I talk to one, I’m going to have to talk to all of them – and I don’t have time for that.”

Or any interest in it.

“Well, I can’t see how you’re going to be able to hide from your AI, so you should probably figure something out.”

“Like what?” Tony asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re Ironman. Think of something.”

“Ugh.”

She smirked.

“Or… you could see what he wants. It might be easier to just do that…”

“Stop being reasonable, Pepper,” he grumbled. “It’s unbecoming.”

Besides, she’d already said that.

><><><><><>< 

“It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“You’ve got his attention,” JARVIS told the boy. “Now you need to spend time with him, so you can get to know him – and he can get to know you.”

“Why?”

“Because he can’t teach you if he doesn’t know what you can do – and how you think. And you two definitely need a level of trust that hasn’t been attained, as of yet.”

Huh.

“I didn’t think of that,” Peter admitted.

“You’re eight.”

The boy ignored that.

“What do I do, then?”

“You let me elevate the plan to the next level.”

Peter was surprised. The more he ‘spoke’ with JARVIS, the more he was impressed with the AI. He’d found himself sometimes logging into the computer just to chat in the middle of the night, because JARVIS never told him to go back to bed, or to stop bothering him. He wondered if Tony Stark had purposely programmed the AI to be kind, or if it had developed that on its own.

“We have more levels?”

“Of course.”

“But the final one is me learning what to do with my abilities?”

“The final level – the endgame, so to speak – is much more than that, Peter Parker,” JARVIS told him. “But, yes, if things fall into place, you will certainly have a mentor who can guide you in the proper use of your abilities. Natural and otherwise.”

“Wow.”

He felt such a rush of hope, just then, that he couldn’t help but hug himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his thin frame.

“Stay away from Stark this week. You need to make sure you’re in class where you’re supposed to be, in case someone comes looking for you.”

“Alright.”

He didn’t even ask why. He trusted JARVIS.

><><><><>< 

“Your approval ratings are tanking…”

Tony frowned.

“What?”

Pepper held up her tablet, which she’d been studying when he’d wandered into her office to see what she was doing.

“Your approval ratings? How the public views you? They’re in the shitter, in more common jargon.”

“Everyone loves me.” He countered with his own tablet, and with a couple of swipes of the screen, there was a headline with Ironman and crowds cheering him. “See?”

“Everyone loves Ironman…” she agreed. “It’s Tony Stark that they can’t stomach.”

He shrugged.

“We’re one and the same. Love my suit, love me.”

“That isn’t how it works, Tony. You need to soften your public image, or stocks are going to start dropping.”

“We can absorb a few angry consumers,” he pointed out.

“Yes. But I don’t want to have to. You’re going to start being less of a spectacle.”

“What? I’m not a spectacle.”

Again with the tablet, and crowds around Tony Stark, who flipped off one reporter, and smirked at another in the crowd who asked about what he thought about the crime rate in the city.

“A reply of ‘That’s a job for the Batman, not for a real superhero’, isn’t really gaining you a lot of friends.”

“I don’t need friends, Pepper.”

“No. But we want better publicity.”

He could see from her expression that she was serious, and that she wasn't going to put up with his usual sarcastic reply.

“I’ll work on it. No more Batman remarks…”

“Oh, you’re going to work on it,” she agreed.

Stark frowned.

“Why did that suddenly sound ominous?”

“Because you have pretty good instincts.” It was her turn to smirk. “Don’t make any plans for next week during school hours.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m implementing some school field trips, and you’re the main event.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. You’re going to be charming, and witty, and you’re going to schmooze with the kids, who are going to go home and tell their parents just how great you are. And then, at the end of this week, you’re going to pick a kid and become his or her mentor.”

“What? Mentor? For what?”

“You can help with homework, or do an after school program – or do the big brother big sister program. I haven’t decided, yet.”

“Pepper, c’mon, don’t make me do this.” He was actually wheedling, now, and he didn’t do it often. “I’ll stop with the comments. I’ll get a puppy. People love famous people with puppies. I’ll make a huge donation to some foundation.”

“Yes, you can do all of those things,” she agreed, her eyes steely and uncompromising. “And then you can spend a few hours a week with some deserving kid who could use some extra attention – especially since you have so much attention to spread around.”

“Why are you doing this?” he groaned, flopping down on the sofa, well aware that when she acted like that, there was no way he was going to get out of it. “It isn’t that bad…”

“It isn’t that bad, yet,” she told him. “JARVIS pointed out that if you’re allowed to continue these actions, unchecked, we’re going to start losing business. I’m not alright with that.”

He scowled.

“When did you start talking to JARVIS?”

“When he started making more sense than you do.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’ll buy you anything you want if you don’t make me do this. I’ll buy you France. Do you want France?”

“I want the public to like you,” she replied, hiding her amusement. “And this is what we decided would work the most efficiently.”

“We? I didn’t get a say in it.”

Obviously.

“Because we didn’t ask you.” She smirked. “Enjoy your weekend,” she told him. “But be here, Monday, at 9am, sharp – sober and cheerful.”

Ugh.

Chapter Text

“Got everything?”

Peter nodded, grinning, excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Stay with the group.”

“I will.”

“Why does he get to go to Stark Tower?” one of the older boys complained, his expression dark with jealousy. “He’s a runt.”

“A runt with a higher IQ than yours by about a million,” snapped one of the other teens. It was clear that he wasn't any less jealous of Peter’s upcoming excursion, but he was looking to pick a fight and it was a good way to get in a dig on the other. “You should have Peter doing your homework, maybe you’ll get something other than an-“

“Stop…” Eric adroitly interposed himself between the two teens, while at the same time moving Peter out of the way – just in case. “He gets to go because they want to raise the level of intelligence in the tower without having to raise the height of the doors.”

He winked at Peter as he said it, and the boy smiled, pleased at the compliment, but well aware from the scowl on the oldest boy’s face that he’d want to steer clear of him for a few days, if he could.

He’d been shocked to hear his name called in class only a couple of days ago, and he’d walked to the principal’s office wondering what was going on. When he’d arrived, there had been a few other kids in the man’s office; all much older than him, and all top students in the school. The principal had smiled at all of them, and congratulated them on being chosen for a special field trip to the R&D labs at Stark Industries. None of them were going on the same day that Peter was, but they were all told that each would be given the opportunity to get a tour of the place, see some of the experiments and goings on and even meet Tony Stark, himself.

Permission slips were handed out, and itineraries given to each student, depending on the day that they were scheduled. Peter looked at it with a growing excitement and had rushed home as soon as he could to get his slip signed and turned back in.

When he’d logged on to speak with JARVIS that night and ask if he’d had anything to do with being chosen. The AI had pointed out that he hadn’t needed to tamper with the invitations. Peter was just that smart, and as one of the top performing students, it had been a no-brainer that he’d be selected to check out the experiments and tech that were going to be available to him in the future.

Even though it was a lot further into his future than most of the other kids’.

Eric smiled down at him just as a horn sounded outside.

“It’s a limo!” Ned yelled, excited.

Eric walked out with Peter, hand on his shoulder, over the backpack the boy was carrying. He spoke with the driver, and compared his photo with the one that the school had sent over, and then zipped Peter’s light jacket up for him.

“Have fun.”

“I will.”

“And don’t pester Mr. Stark.”

The little boy shook his head.

“I won’t.”

JARVIS had said the same thing to him the night before – and just as nicely. He was to stay clear of Tony Stark, if he could, and just look around with the group and enjoy himself.

“He’s lucky,” the driver told Eric, with a smile as he opened the back door for the boy. “It’s Friday, and they’re feeding them lunch in the executive dining room instead of the cafeteria.”

Peter just smiled, again, and got into the fancy car, smiling at the two much older students who had been picked up before him.

This was going to be great.

><><><><> 

“Last one…”

Tony rolled his eyes, his expression artfully set to look as put upon as he could possibly manage.

“Good. I’m exhausted.”

Pepper’s smile wasn't at all sympathetic.

“It isn’t that difficult to be nice. You just need more practice at it.”

“I’ve been practicing all week,” he pointed out.

Monday had been a large group of kids from one of the closer schools. They’d all been seniors and promising juniors and had been noisy and disruptive to Tony’s normal morning routine. He’d been tasked with giving them a personal tour of the building; from the parking garage to the business floors where calls were taken, to the cafeteria where the regular working class ate most of the time and all the way up to the conference rooms, VIP offices (not his, though, since he flat out refused to let anyone into his personal space) and then the research labs.

They’d had a good time, and the smiles showed that while Tony hadn’t enjoyed himself, the kids clearly had.

Tuesday was exactly the same formula, only with a different group of kids. Just as many, just as noisy, just as promising. They were smart, he had to admit, and many of the questions were intelligent ones. It didn’t mean he enjoyed himself, but at least he didn’t have to lower himself into mud to dumb down his answers to them.

Wednesday had been kids from a trade school. They weren’t as interested in the science as they were the tech, and that was fine – except that Tony informed them that the science was the thing that made the tech work, so maybe they should be more interested in that, too. And math, he’d added.

He had to admit – strictly to himself and never to Pepper – that he’d enjoyed watching some of them suddenly becoming excited by the science.

Thursday again the same, with a group of junior high aged children. These were assembled from a few different schools, and when he saw them, he almost hesitated, immediately assuming that he was going to see the very familiar face of Peter Parker looking at him from the middle of that group. He realized, though, when he didn’t, that these kids were older than Peter, still, but weren’t even close to being on par with his intelligence. They’d been noisy, and intrusive and everything that Tony had assumed all of the kids were going to be, and he’d been glad to see the last of them crowd into the elevator at the end of the day.

Pepper took hold of his chin with one hand, cheerfully, clearly enjoying his misery, he thought.

“And you’re doing such a good job with them.”

“Tell me, again, why this group get to eat in the executive dining room?”

“Because these are the brightest students, with the most potential. Each principal from one of the schools I called was told to send their top performer. Besides, I’m going to be looking for a few interns when the older ones graduate in the summer so I might as well get a good look at them.”

“Ugh.”

She smirked.

“Not to mention, one of these might be the kid you end up mentoring.”

“Yeah.” He scowled at that thought. “I get to pick this kid?”

“Of course.”

She wasn't completely heartless, after all.

“Good.”

He was going to look for the quietest one. The one that seemed to be smart enough that he wouldn’t need to hold his hand (and he had no intention of picking a girl, at all – mainly because he didn’t want a teenaged fangirl swooning on him every time he spoke to her) and one that was unobtrusive, and the least annoying.

Pepper’s tablet beeped a gentle alert and she looked at it.

“Happy is just pulling up at the lobby. Ready to go meet them?”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Grumbling just loudly enough that she’d know he wasn't enjoying any of this, Stark followed her to the elevator, and straightened his shoulders as it descended to the lobby, passing anyone who was waiting. They walked over to the huge receptionist desk just as a small group of youngsters walked in.

Older kids, not surprisingly. They walked in and – of course – noticed Tony, immediately. He forced his best not-too-annoyed smile and then scowled when the last of them walked in, also looking around with interest and much – much – smaller than the kids he was walking with.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Pepper looked over.

“What?”

“That’s Peter…”

“Peter who?”

“Peter Parker.”

She frowned, looking at him and then back at the boy who was trailing the group that was walking toward them, shepherded by Happy.

“He’s the one you’ve been complaining about to me?”

“Yes.”

“The one that is stalking you?”

Tony scowled at her tone.

“Yes.”

“He’s a baby.”

“I told you he was young.” His expression tightened. “You didn’t know he was coming?”

“I didn’t pick the students, Tony. I sent letters to principals. They chose who would come. If he’s in a group of kids so much older than him, then of course he’s going to stand out to his principal and admins and be chosen for something like this. They’re going to want to show him off, as well, after all.”

Case in point, the little boy was carrying a backpack over a jacket that proclaimed the name of Peter’s school – to make sure there was no mistake where he was learning to be as brilliant as he was.

“This is ridiculous. I’m not going to-“

“You’re going to finish this week,” she said, firmly. “And you’re going to be amazing.” She smiled at the students who were closing in on them. “I mean it.”

He didn’t answer. Not in words. But his smile wasn’t completely terrible when he greeted the kids and had them line up to have pictures taken and ID badges made. He didn’t even scowl when they had to bring a step stool over for Peter to stand on since the camera didn’t tilt far enough down to capture his image. Pepper smiled, though, and introduced herself to him, shaking his hand, warmly.

“Did you enjoy the ride in?”

The little boy wasn't the only one to smile at that. All of the kids had enjoyed the ride in. The older ones understood that it wasn't normal; they normally were bussed to field trips, and recognized that they were being treated like VIPs – especially since Tony Stark himself was there to greet them at the door. Peter had simply been amazed at all of the crazy luxuries that could be stuffed into the back of something as simple as a car.

“It was great. Thank you.”

Tony rolled his eyes when he saw how Pepper’s expression softened as she spoke to the youngest member of their little tour. Sure, Peter was adorable. Big-eyed and curly hair, and cute smile that made those eyes happier. But he was a little kid. He was supposed to be adorable. It was nature making sure that the kid didn’t get eaten, or something – he knew there was a scientific reason for cuteness, but he wasn't a biologist, was he, so he didn’t have that boring stuff memorized.

All Tony knew was that the kid was in his bubble, once more, and was probably going to hound him all day, now, getting underfoot and distracting him – when he wasn't even doing anything that he wanted to be doing in the first place.

He scowled over at Pepper when the last ID badge was clipped onto clothing, and the small group of students were guided to the elevator. To his surprise, Peter moved to the other side of the elevator car and ended up beside Pepper, instead of himself, well out of his way. And out of the way of the rest of the kids, too.

Probably just making sure he didn’t get trampled, Tony decided, relieved nonetheless.

He frowned, though, when he saw Pepper’s hand slip to Peter’s shoulder to keep him steady in the press of people, and watched as the little boy looked up at her and smiled. Before he could wonder why it bothered him, one of the older kids raised a hand, catching his attention.

“This is great, Mr. Stark. Thanks so much for doing this.”

Tony’s smile was a little tight, but he shrugged.

“It’s my pleasure. We’re all about supporting and encouraging the youth of today, after all, and making sure they know what kind of opportunities are waiting for them. You guys – and gals,” he added, giving the three girls in the group his most charming smile. “Are all very welcome, here. I hope we’ll put on a good show for you.”

There were murmurs of excitement, and the elevator stopped, then, and it was Pepper who spoke, first.

“We’re going to show you some of the more mundane things that go on here at the Tower, first,” she said, her hand still on Peter’s shoulder as she walked out of the elevator. “Then we’ll go on the exciting and more fabulous activities.”

“Will we get to see the Ironman suit?” one of the kids asked.

All of them looked at Tony, hopefully, and he shrugged, pointedly not looking at Peter to see if he was looking hopeful, too.

“We’ll see how it goes.”

Chapter Text

As days went, it wasn't bad, at all.

Tony was surprised, but assumed that it was just the universe making it up to him for all the crap that he’d had to put up with for the last four days. The kids were all very interested in what they were being shown; from the simple office floors, to the executive rooms, the dining areas, the recreational areas, all the way up to the helipad, the lounge area (where they stopped for refreshments) and the R&D labs.

To make the labs that much more interesting, a few chemists had been recruited to make some experiments up to allow the students a chance to interact with them, and Tony saw one lift Peter Parker up to sit on the edge of the table so he could get a better look. Thus far, the boy hadn’t even looked at him funny, much less come up to try and talk to him.

It was a little confusing, really. He had him right where he wanted him, after all – didn’t he?

“This is going well…”

Pepper had moved over to stand beside him to watch from a distance.

“Yeah.”

“Has your stalker said anything to you?”

“No.” He frowned when a flame shot up out of the vial that the chemist was holding with a pair of tongs. The kids all made approving noises and no one looked panicked, so it must have been on purpose, but the fire had been pretty close to Peter. The scientists should be more careful, Stark thought. “I haven’t given him a chance.”

“He’s too young to file a restraining order against him.”

Tony rolled his eyes at her amused glance.

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Whatever.”

“We’re almost done. You did well. Thank you.”

He huffed. Like she’d given him a choice?

“You’re welcome. What do we have left?”

“We’ll do a final presentation, give them a chance to mingle in the lounge over a late lunch. Then it’s hand out the swag bags and have Happy take them home.”

“Good.”

He was exhausted.

><><><><>< 

“Did you have a good time?”

Peter nodded, smiling at Eric, who had met him at the car, and waving at the driver before he turned to go into the house.

“It was great. They have all kinds of experiments going on there, and businesses are operating out of some of the floor – they’re owned by Mr. Stark, though, or one of his companies he owns. He told one of the kids that no one else is allowed to do business there.”

“That’s interesting. We just finished dinner. Are you hungry?”

“No. They fed us in the dining room. Thank you, though.” He walked in and saw the other boys sitting around the table doing homework. They all looked up with varying degrees of welcome. Peter pulled his backpack off, and set it on the table at the spot that had traditionally become his. “They gave us a swag bag,” he told the others.

“What’s that?” Ned asked.

“It’s a bunch if stuff with their product on it,” said Eric’s son. “Usually shirts, keychains, water bottles. That kind of thing.”

“Wow.”

Peter smiled, excitedly, and nodded, ignoring the jealous looks that a couple tossed his direction.

“Yeah, there’s a shirt and a keychain and some cups.” He handed the coffee cup to Eric’s wife, since she collected them. And the keychain went to Ned, for the same reason. “Look at this, though.”

He held up a small plastic card.

“What is it?” one of the boys asked, reaching for it, automatically.

Peter pulled it back before he could. He was smaller than all of them, but he was much, much, faster.

“It’s a gift card,” he told them. “All of the kids got one.”

“To where?” Eric asked, curiously.

“Best Buy. Ms. Potts said we should buy ourselves something nice to commemorate our visit – and I got to keep my ID badge,” he added, holding it up.

“Nice.”

“How much?” Ned asked.

“A thousand dollars.”

They all looked stunned, and Peter smiled.

“I thought we could divide it up,” he said into the silence. “And we could all get something we wanted. There are eight of us; we could each spend up to $120 and that would still leave money for taxes.”

It wasn't exact, but while he had the math down, immediately, he didn’t bother to be too precise, since the boys wouldn’t care.

“Wow.”

That was met with immediate excitement, and suddenly they were all clamoring to go, then and there, and looking imploringly at Eric and his wife. Gone were the jealous looks, but Peter hadn’t worried too much about them, anyway.

The two smiled at Peter, but she shook her head.

“That’s for you. You should save it for something you want.”

“I want to share it, though.” He’d included them in the division, because why wouldn’t he? “I could get something pretty great for a hundred dollars.”

It took a bit of convincing, but the boys were – obviously – all in agreement and ganged up on the adults, using all of their best wheedling and begging. Finally, Eric shrugged and gave in.

“Alright, guys. Let’s go for a drive.”

With a whoop and a lot of slapping of Peter’s back, they all grabbed their jackets and ran for the van.

><><><><><> 

“I see you survived the last day…”

Tony gave a tired sigh and sank into the fine leather of his office chair, swiveling it around so he could look out the window at the city below.

“Yeah, JARVIS. Barely.”

“You’re scheduled for a show and an after party, tonight.”

“Cancel it. I’m tired – and not in the mood.”

“Why not?”

“Because now that the week is over, Pepper is making me pick one of these kids to mentor – or be big brother to. It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s good for your public appearances.”

Stark scowled.

“That’s what Pepper said, too.” He pressed a button and a display came on beside the window so he didn’t need to turn back from the view. Photos of all of the students from the day’s field trip came up. “I have to pick one, tonight, so everything can start being put into place by Monday.”

“What will it entail?” JARVIS asked as Tony immediately discarded the girls.

They had all been brilliant, and polite, but they were girls and he didn’t want to deal with that – especially if they wanted to become bosom buddies and start telling him about their periods or something awful like that.

“Depends on who I choose. Helping with homework, making sure they are staying active in their schools? She didn’t exactly say. Only that it’s going to vary kid by kid.” He snorted, looking at the image of the youngest one of the group, and discarding him, as well. “She suggested I choose Peter. Can you believe that?”

“He would be the best choice for you.”

Tony scowled.

“What? Why?”

“Think about it. A high school student probably has a curfew of midnight. An eight year old? Six or seven – at the most. He probably has a nine o’clock bedtime. You won’t be forced to spend a lot of time with him. He can come here after school, you help him with his homework, or do something interesting with him once a week – or whatever miss Potts is insisting on – and you’re finished before your dinner reservations are ready.”

“Huh.” He hadn’t thought of that. The little guy might be his best choice, at that. The least amount of effort, anyway. The image of Peter Parker came back onto the display. “She said I have to do something with him every other weekend – to soften my image.” Tony thought she was just trying to make him do something with a kid to settle him down, a little. “What do eight year olds do?”

“I’d suggest you ask him.”

Chapter Text

“We meet again, Mr. Parker…”

Peter smiled, a combination of excited and shy.

“Hi, Mr. Hogan.”

“You can call me Happy.”

The boy nodded and Happy opened the door of the car for him. It wasn't the limo; he was one small kid, after all, and not a handful of them. Instead, it was a sleek, black, sedan. He got into the back seat and buckled in while Happy went around to get behind the wheel. Peter’s study room advisor had walked out to stand with him – and to make sure it was Stark’s driver who picked him up – and the boy waved at her before she turned and walked back into the building.

“You could call me Peter.”

The driver turned and looked over his shoulder.

“I’m going to be the one who picks you up, every day after school,” he told him. “No one else, unless you hear otherwise, and we’ll notify the school administrators, as well. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We want to make sure you end up where you’re supposed to be, after all.”

Peter just wrapped his arms around himself, excitedly, and nodded.

He was going to see Mr. Stark, again. Was going to see him every day after school – unless some Avenger thing came up, of course, and he had to leave.

The boy had been so excited to log onto the computer two days before to tell JARVIS about the phone call Eric had received from Tony Stark’s PR people, asking if Peter was interested in the idea of having the billionaire as a mentor. Eric had hesitated, but Peter had jumped at the idea, and the boy’s foster father had eventually given in. Peter didn’t ask for many things, after all and he was clearly eager for the opportunity.

JARVIS had been properly pleased, of course, and had cautioned Peter to make sure he didn’t do his homework in class like he normally did.

“Part of his duties will be to assist you with your work.”

“I don’t need help, very often,” Peter had pointed out. “It’s not that complicated.”

“But it will give him something to do with you,” JARVIS had said. “Trust me. It’ll work out better this way.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t want you to mention your special abilities to him, yet,” JARVIS had added.

“Why not?” Peter had asked, confused. “That’s the best thing about being so close to him; he can teach me what I need to know.”

“He needs to learn about you, first,” JARVIS explained. “To know the other things that you can do. Then we’ll let him find out about your other talents. We need to plan for the long term. Understand?”

Peter didn’t. But he had figured out, by then, that JARVIS was a pretty smart guy. And he liked him – even though he knew it was dumb, since he wasn't really a person.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

><><><><> 

“We’re going to be met by one of the receptionists,” Happy told Peter as he pulled into traffic. “They’ll make sure you get a new security badge, and make sure you know how to find Tony’s office.”

“Okay.”

The driver smiled; even looking at him through his reflection in the mirror, the little boy looked so excited that Happy thought he might vibrate himself right out of the car.

“You’re going to have a good time,” he told him. “But, if for some reason, you don’t…” Meaning that Tony was a jerk to him, or something. “I want you to tell me. Okay? That way we can fix whatever it is. This is supposed to be fun for you.”

Peter nodded.

“Thank you.”

><><><>< 

Tony looked up at the polite knock at his door.

“Enter.”

The door opened and one of the security guards entered, with Peter trailing behind him. The boy was carrying the always present backpack, wearing jeans, the same old shoes and a blue jacket.

“Mr. Parker has arrived, Mr. Stark.”

The security guard had clearly already fallen under the spell of Peter’s adorability, Tony decided, suppressing his annoyance at that. The kid was annoying more than cute. They’d see that if they’d been stalked by him like Tony had. But Jarvis was right about not having too many responsibilities with the kid, due to his age.

That had been smart.

“Thank you.” He waved the boy in. “Come on in, Peter.”

The security guard left, closing the door behind him, and Peter walked over to Tony’s desk, looking around with interest. Tony watched as he took in the other desk in the room; smaller and more basic, but with a good view of the city below them and a supply of everything that a student might need.

“This is nice.”

“Yes, it is.” Tony came around and leaned against his desk, looking down at the boy. “So, Happy is picking you up from school every day at 2:30, and you’ll be here until 5:00. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s your desk, right there. If you have homework, you’re supposed to do it.”

“Right.”

“Do you have any homework?”

“Yes.”

“Then get to it.”

Peter nodded and sat down at the desk, a little crestfallen at the man’s abrupt tone, but not arguing. He set the backpack on the floor and pulled out a few textbooks, a notepad and a gnawed on pencil. Ignoring the high-tech computer display and the pens and other items placed there for his use, he opened the first book up, while Tony returned to his chair and turned the display back on, his attention going to the newest incarnation of his Ironman suit.

It was still in the development stage, but it was going to be sleeker, better and ever more deadly than the one he wore, now. He glanced over at Peter, who had his cheek on the table and was scribbling, furiously, on the paper, his lower lip between his teeth as he concentrated.

Tony frowned, and watched him for a long moment, wondering how the hell anyone could even see what they were doing – much less actually do it – in such an odd position. There were equations being written, though, he could see – sort of – and they were far more advanced than any eight year old should be able to do. He reminded himself that he didn’t care what the little kid was working on – he was just there for good PR – and started making his own notes.

The room was silent, then, with just the scraping of Peter’s pencil on the paper that his nose was practically touching.

><><><><><> 

“Well?”

“What?”

Pepper made a show of looking around Tony’s office.

“I don’t see flames, or flood or any blood.”

“Because there aren’t any.”

“And Happy took him home?”

“Yes.”

Pepper smiled.

“What did you boys talk about?”

“Nothing. He did his homework and I worked on my suit.”

“You didn’t help him?”

“He didn’t ask for any.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Did you even talk to him?”

“I asked if he had homework.”

“Tony…”

“Pepper…” he shrugged, defensively. “I’m doing what you want. We’re in the same room and I’m right there if he needs something.”

“Did you offer him a refreshment?”

“No.”

“Tony…”

Now she sounded exasperated.

“He was here for two hours. He wasn't going to die of thirst.”

“He’s a little boy, Tony. Little boys are always hungry. You were one, once, remember?”

“No. I spent a lot of money on alcohol to forget my childhood.”

Pepper wasn't impressed. She crossed her arms over her breasts and gave him the look she gave him when she was most annoyed with him.

“You know this kid’s history. Why would you actively try to be cruel to him?”

“I’m being cruel because I didn’t offer him a juice box or a plate of cookies?”

“You ignored him. You said it yourself.”

“I didn’t leave. I was right here.”

“You might as well have left.”

“I’ll remind you, I didn’t want to do the mentoring thing, in the first place.”

“And I’ll remind you that your attitude with the public is what led to you doing it,” she countered. “You make an effort to be nice to him or I swear to god, I’ll make you take him to baseball games every weekend, and the zoo once a month.”

“Pepper…”

“I mean it, Tony.”

He could tell that she did, too. The billionaire scowled. And huffed. And rolled his eyes.

She didn’t back down.

He sighed.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever…” he turned his attention back to his display, but Pepper didn’t mind.

She’d had her say, and she’d keep close track of what he was doing. The field trips had been great, and approval was inching up. Spending time with a guy as adorable and good as Peter was might mellow Tony Stark a little, too, and that could only be for the good.

><><><><>>< 

The next day there was a small plate of cookies on the desk when Peter sat down at it. There was also a bottle of water and a cola with a glass of ice.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Tony told him. “Since I didn’t know what you might want – aside from the fact that I know you drink water – you’ll have to tell me if there’s something you don’t like.”

The boy’s smile was uncertain, but he nodded as he set his backpack on the floor by his feet so he could open it.

“Thank you.”

Tony nodded, and went to sit at his desk, host duties complete.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you want a cookie?” Peter asked, offering him the plate.

That made the billionaire hesitate, and he felt just a little sliver of warmth at the invitation.

“I had one. Thanks, anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have homework?”

“Yes.”

“Is it hard?”

“No.”

“Get to work, then.”

Peter nodded, and turned his attention to the papers and textbooks he was setting on the desk, but while Tony watched, surreptitiously, the boy picked up one of the cookies, ran it under his nose to sniff it – probably suspicious of they were chocolate chips or raisons – and then crammed the whole thing into his mouth.

The billionaire snorted, softly, amused, and turned his attention back to his own display.

Chapter Text

“Do you have everything?”

Peter nodded, practically wriggling in excitement as he looked up at Eric. They were alone in the house, since Eric’s wife had taken the older boys and Ned to a movie. Peter knew it was a special treat designed to keep them all from being jealous that he was going to the amusement park. Not even adding in the fact that it was Tony Stark who was doing the taking.

“Yes.”

“You be good,” his foster father said. “And stay right beside Mr. Stark at all times. I don’t want to get a call from him saying that he turned around and you were gone – and I don’t want to get a call from some park security guard because you saw something interesting and wandered off.”

“I won’t wander off.”

What would be more interesting than hanging out with Tony Stark? He’d spoken to JARVIS the night before, too excited to sleep, and had asked the AI if he should tell the man what he could do and ask him for his help, yet. JARVIS had suggested waiting a little longer. Peter was impatient; the crazy things he could do seemed to just be piling up inside him, but he trusted JARVIS, and liked him, so he listened.

Besides, it was a relief to Peter to have someone helping him. The little boy was a genius, yes, but he was still only a little kid, and had so many things thrown at him in his short life that he felt overwhelmed, at times. Which was why he had nightmares, and another reason that he didn’t sleep – to avoid waking the others when he did. Of course, now that he was enhanced (he didn’t know a better word to use for it) he didn’t need as much sleep, so it gave him more time to spend with his projects. And now, with JARVIS.

“Good.” They were out sitting on the front porch of the house, and both of them saw the black sedan pull up, with Happy behind the wheel. “Come on.”

He caught up the backpack Peter almost habitually carried, and they went to meet the car. The back windows were tinted, but Tony himself opened the back door, getting out and walking over to shake Eric’s hand, and look down at Peter.

“Are we ready?”

Peter nodded, looking up at him, and Eric gave the boy another look.

“You behave.”

“I will.”

The boy reached for Tony’s hand, automatically, and Tony caught it without any indication that he was uncomfortable.

“We’ll have him home sometime before dark,” the billionaire told Tatro. His free hand went into a pocket of the jeans he was wearing, and brought out a business card. “If anything comes up, I wrote my cell on the back.”

“Thank you.”

Stark nodded.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share that number with anyone.”

“Right.” He grinned at Peter. “Have fun.”

“He will,” Tony assured him, putting his sunglasses on and walking Peter back to the car, waiting for the boy to get in, and then following him. “Buckle up.”

“Hey, Happy.”

The driver smiled at his reflection.

“Hey, Peter! Ready for a fun day?”

“Yeah.” He turned to Tony. “Thank you.”

The man took off his sunglasses.

“You’re welcome. But we do have some ground rules to go over before we get there.”

Happy pulled the car into traffic.

“What rules?” Peter asked, curiously.

“You stay close to me. I don’t want to have to face your foster dad and tell him I lost track of you.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t mention that Eric had just told him the same thing.

“No telling people who I am.”

“They’re going to see you,” Peter pointed out.

“No. We’re going with the hope that all they’re going to see is an extremely good looking guy in jeans and a sweatshirt, hanging out with a cute little kid. Tony Stark is flamboyant and a showman. No one should even realize I’m at the park if things go like I plan for them to. Understand?”

“Not really.”

Tony smiled, amused, and his expression softened. It was hard to remember that he was so little – until he’d reached up to take his hand, of course. That had been unexpected, and a new experience for the billionaire.

“Because you’re eight. When you’re nine, you’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

“This is the important one,” Tony told him. “So listen up.” He shifted, turning in the seat as well as he could with his seatbelt on. “If anything happens and you lose me, you stay where you are. Don’t go looking for me, because I’ll come looking where I last saw you, and I want you to be there.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go anywhere with anyone,” Stark added. “Not even a cop. If someone comes up to you and asks if you need help – and they’re in uniform, fine, but you tell them you need to stay where you are. If they want, they can wait with you there. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I’ll be careful,” Peter promised, not wanting him to worry.

Or to regret taking him.

Tony gave him a smile, but he scowled when he caught Happy watching in the rearview mirror.

“Good. See that you are.”

><><><><<> 

Considering that he spent the day with an eight-year-old (unheard of) he had a good time. In the two weeks since he’d been watching him do his homework in his office, the billionaire had concluded that despite his youth, Peter was a very serious little fellow. Some of that probably came from being as intelligent as he was, but he’d also had a lot of upheaval in that little life of his, losing his parents, and then his aunt, and now living in perpetual foster care. All of that almost certainly weighed down on those slim shoulders of his.

It was all to the good, for Tony, that Peter was quiet, of course. He hadn’t wanted to hang out with him in the first place, after all, and a noisy, rambunctious, little kid would have been rejected, immediately. Peter was quiet company, and Tony liked that about him. JARVIS had been right on the money about Peter being a better choice than any of the other students that had wandered through the tower that week.

At the amusement park that day, however, he saw another side to Peter. Maybe even one the little boy didn’t know existed.

Happy dropped them at the front gate, looking down at Peter, cheerfully, as he opened the door.

“Got everything?”

The boy was practically vibrating with excitement as he looked toward the gate.

“Yes.”

Happy smiled at Tony.

“Got enough money? Need some cash?”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused, though, at the question.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I have money,” Peter told the two men. “Eric gave me $20.” He pulled the bill from his pocket, holding it up to show them.

“You hang onto that,” Tony replied. “We might need it.”

The driver snorted.

“What time?”

“I’ll call you.”

He didn’t want to have a set time, after all. Just in case he was having a shitty time and wanted to leave, early, he could come up with some kind of excuse to tell Peter, and call Happy to come get them.

Happy left, and Tony held out his hand, which Peter took, immediately. The little boy smiled up at him, and Stark walked over to the admission gate with his young charge in tow, hoping the day wouldn’t be a disaster. The weather was nice, considering it was early fall, and the sun was shining down on them, and no one even looked twice at him as he paid for their admission and bought a roll of tickets for the rides and was pointed toward the kiddie side of the park.

><><><><>< 

It wasn't a disaster.

After a quick conference with Peter, both of them poring over a map of the park, they decided to ride some rides, first. Some were strictly for the boy, only, and some were rides that Tony could sit with him. If he sat with him, he double-checked fingers and feet were inside the ride at all times and the safety equipment was used. If it was a ride that only Peter could be on, Tony watched the park personnel put the boy into the ride and his eyes never strayed from the kid the entire time he was on it.

Which was just as well, since every time the ride revolved and came back by where Tony was standing with a large handful of other adults, watching, Peter would wave, excitedly to him, and continue waving until the billionaire waved back.

Tony was a little surprised by just how convoluted some of the rides for the kids were. They weren’t high-scare roller coasters, of course, but some had a lot of jerky movements, and Tony witnessed several children lose what had probably been perfectly good lunches during or after the ride stopped. Luckily, he hadn’t fed Peter, yet, so that wasn't a problem, and it seemed that the boy had a high tolerance for those quick motions, because he never did anything but smile and laugh the entire time.

By the time Peter had tried out every ride that he showed a remote interest in riding, Tony was hungry and he took that little hand once more and led him over to the concession area.

“Where do you put all of that…?” he asked, feigning amazement as he watched Peter wolf his way, indelicately, through two slices of pizza and then a side of French fries while washing it down with a milk shake.

Peter smiled, shyly, recognizing that he was being teased.

“I’m a growing boy, Mr. Stark.”

Which had made Tony smile, too, and even reach out and brush those curls off his forehead.

“You keep eating like that, and you’ll grow right off the planet,” he told him. “And why don’t you just call me Tony, now? It’s easier.”

“Wow.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the excitement that concession created in the boy’s expression, and stole a few of his French fries.

“Let’s go play some games,” the billionaire said. “I’ll win you a bear, or something.”

><><><><><> 

When Happy pulled up to the same admissions gate he’d dropped them off at, Tony was sitting on a park bench. On the seat beside him was a veritable Noah’s ark of stuffed animals, and in his arms, head on his shoulder and drooling on his neck, Peter Parker was soundly sleeping. The driver grinned as he got out of the car, moving around to open the door.

“Wore him out, did you?”

Tony nodded.

“Shh. Don’t wake him…” he handed the sleeping child over to the other man so he could stand up. “He might want to go back.”

“Did you win him all of these?” Happy asked as Stark loaded the front passenger seat with stuffed animals and he buckled the still sleeping boy into his spot.

“I won him the bear,” Tony confirmed, keeping that one to the side and settling it beside Peter on the seat. “He won all the others.”

“Yeah?”

“Kid has some crazy hand/eye coordination. He throws a dart, the balloon pops. Tossed a ring? Lands on the pop bottle. It was crazy. We could have wiped the place clean if they didn’t have preset limits.”

And because Tony hadn’t wanted to carry an armful of those huge stuffed animals. They’d already stuffed Peter’s backpack full of stuffed animals for Eric, his wife, and the boys at the home.

“Sounds like you had a good time,” the driver said, closing the door without slamming it any harder than necessary.

“I did. Don’t tell anyone.” He pointed at the pile of stuffed animals. “If he’s still asleep when we get him home, he won that monkey for you.”

“That was nice of him. What did you win for me?”?

Stark rolled his eyes.

“Get us home, will you?”

“You have a hot date?”

It was still early, after all, and a weekend.

“Are you kidding?” Tony closed his eyes, thinking that Peter might have the right idea, and a nap was definitely in order. “I’m exhausted.”

Chapter Text

“Why do you look so worried?”

Tony scowled, looking at Pepper, who had walked into his office a moment before to discuss some paperwork she was dealing with for an upcoming meeting. Something that held absolutely no interest to him at the best of times, but was definitely on a back burner, at the moment.

“I’m not worried. I’m anxious.”

It was her turn to frown.

“It’s the same ting, Tony.”

“Worried implies that I’m afraid. Anxious is more that I’m nervous…”

“Fine.” She hated it when he was an insufferable know it all – and she was pretty sure, despite his speech, that the words were interchangeable. “Why are you anxious?”

“Peter has a test, today.”

“So?” She hadn’t heard any complaining from the man about the boy for almost a month, now, and was definitely pleased at Stark’s personal approval ratings. Not that they publicized Tony being Peter’s mentor (they would if he was an adult, but they weren’t going to give the press a reason to harass the child) but he’d been a bit under the radar, lately, and she hadn’t heard anything from HR in weeks. Her public relations teams were even beginning to take a breath. Either spending time with Peter was mellowing him (unlikely) or it was wearing him out, and she liked that. “He’s had tests, before, presumably.”

“Not important ones,” Tony said, leaning forward a little in his enthusiasm. “It’s a placement test – to see if his engineering abilities are equal to his math skills.”

“And…?”

She didn’t understand why that would matter – and she didn’t bother to hide it.

He rolled his eyes.

“If he can keep up in both, then he can be placed in the pre-college classes.”

“Pre-college? Tony, he’s eight. He’s too little for college. For that matter, he’s too little for high school.”

Stark nodded.

“And yet, he makes most of the other kids in his classes look like imbeciles.”

Pepper frowned. And then her eyes narrowed, and a slightly amused, slightly awed smile creased her face.

“You like him.”

“What? No.” The denial was automatic. “I just want to see him prove to everyone just how much better he is than they are.”

“Bullshit.” Her expression was pleased. “You care about him.”

He scowled, but then he shrugged.

“Yeah. A little.”

“A lot?”

“No.” Another shrug. “Maybe.”

Before she could reply, there was a shuffling at the door. Peter had long since been told that he didn’t need to knock, but had been taught that it was polite to announce your entrance to avoid startling people. As such, he tended to make a little more noise than was actually necessary when he entered the office. Tony stood just as the door opened, and the billionaire came around to the other side of the desk to stand beside Pepper.

“Well?” He asked without preamble as Peter walked across the room and dropped his backpack on the floor beside the little desk. “How did it go?”

Peter grinned.

“I passed.”

Tony made a triumphant noise that surprised Pepper, but not nearly as much as he did when he swept Peter up in his arms and hugged him, tightly.

“Good job! I knew you could do it.”

“I was pretty anxious…” Peter told him, hugging him, happily – relieved. “But I got a 92%.”

“What did you miss?” Tony asked, squeezing him for just a moment and then letting him back to his feet. “Was it the one about Bazien statistics? I knew we should have worked on that, more.”

Peter shook his head, still grinning, a mixture of relief and happiness.

“I don’t know, yet. They haven’t returned the tests.” He looked at Pepper. “Hi, Miss Potts.”

“Hello, Peter. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

Pepper turned to Tony.

“Are you boys going to celebrate?”

“We should,” Stark said, looking at the youngster. “Ice cream?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah.”

She frowned.

“Seriously? That’s it? Ice cream?”

Two sets of brown eyes turned toward her, confused.

“You don’t think we should have ice cream?” Tony asked.

“How long have you been working on this…?”

“Weeks.” He ruffled Peter’s hair, cheerfully. “And he’s been staying late, a few times, if it was something that he didn’t get.”

“And you’re just going to celebrate with ice cream?” Pepper asked, pointedly.

Stark smirked, and gave the boy a sly look.

“I suppose we could do something a little more exciting…” he said, casually.

“Like what?”

“Well… I need to go out to the compound, tomorrow. What if I asked Eric if I could take you with me? Do you think he’d allow it? Maybe do an overnight?”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“If you’re interested…”

“Wow.” His normally serious face had already been cheerful, flush with his success on the test. Now it was so excited that Pepper chuckled. “Can I call and ask?”

“No. I’ll call him,” Tony said. “That way I can set up when I am coming to get you and when he’d expect us to be back. Maybe Pepper will take you for an ice cream in the executive dining room while I make the call…”

He looked at her, expectantly and she almost refused, until Peter turned hopeful eyes on him. Big, brown and adorable hopeful brown eyes. She smiled, and offered him her hand.

“I think we could do that.”

“Thank you.”

Pepper looked at Stark.

“We’ll be in the dining room. Come find us when you’re done.”

“I will,” he promised, reaching for his phone. “Then we can make some plans.”

Besides, he needed permission from more than just Peter’s foster dad to take the boy to the compound. There were, after all, Avengers to consider, too.

><><><><>< 

“Wait… you want to bring him out to the compound?”

“Not permanently,” Stark said with a shrug. “But for the day – maybe even overnight. As a special treat.”

“We’re not an attraction, Tony.”

“I know, Nick. It’s one kid, and he isn’t very big. You’re not even going to be there, this weekend, so you won’t even know he was there.”

Which was true, since Fury had to go to Houston. The director of SHIELD didn’t look mollified, though. Even on the display, Tony could see that he didn’t like the idea.

“And if something comes up…?”

“An Avenger something, you mean?”

“Yes. Then what?”

“Then we take him with us and hand him a gun and a rocket pack.” Tony rolled his eyes. “What do you mean, what then? Then he goes home, obviously. Happy can take him, and make sure he’s delivered back, safely.”

The sarcasm wasn't appreciated, but it was also somewhat expected. Fury scowled.

“If he breaks anything, you’re paying for it.”

“I paid for everything out there, already, as I recall,” Stark pointed out. “It’s just a favor, Nick. I don’t ask for them very often.”

That much was true. Of course, there were very few things Tony Stark wanted or needed that the Avengers could give him. A benefit of being crazy wealthy.

The other man sighed, and then shrugged.

“Fine. Bring him out. I’ll let Steve know.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

Fury ended the call without a word – although his expression was still uncertain – and Tony smiled, pleased.

This was going to be great. He couldn’t wait to see Peter’s excited expression when he told him it was all set.

It was much better than ice cream.

Chapter Text

It was Eric who delivered Peter to Tony’s apartment Saturday morning, bright and early. Not that the billionaire would have minded coming to get him, but then he would have had to deal with all of the other kids at the home where Peter lived gawking at him. It would have delayed them, and Tony didn’t like being late to somewhere unless it was his choice. Luckily, Eric offered to bring Peter to him, and Tony accepted, immediately, and without hiding his relief.

The weather was raining, so it was no surprise that Peter had a jacket on. He carried his backpack, which was bulging even more than usual, and was wearing a rain jacket and a hat. Tony smiled when he got out of the van to make the transfer over to Stark’s sportscar, because the boy looked so excited, and it was a good thing he’d have a seatbelt keeping him buckled in, otherwise he’d never be able to sit still for the ride.

“He didn’t sleep, at all, last night,” Eric confided to Stark. “So he might get tired, later, if you don’t figure out a way to get him to nap.”

“Hitting him over the head and knocking him out doesn’t count?”

The other man chuckled, and shook his head. Maybe, initially, he might not have found that amusing, but he’d met and spoken with Tony Stark several times, now, and knew he had an odd sense of humor. He also knew that Peter was nuts for the guy, and it said a lot that Tony spent so much time with him.

“No. The state frowns on that method, or I’d have tried it with some of the teenagers a long time ago.”

“Did you eat?” Tony asked Peter directly.

“Yeah.”

Eric shook his head.

“Not much. He was too excited. Last chance to change your mind about having him overnight…”

“He’s eight,” Tony said. “I can handle him.”

“He’s precocious,” Eric reminded him.

“So am I. Besides, I’m going to have Avengers with me.”

The bigger man shrugged his agreement.

“You have all of my numbers if you need anything.” Another look at the boy. “You behave yourself.”

“I will.”

“Get in the car,” Tony said, taking the backpack, and surprised by how heavy it was – and how easily Peter had been carrying it. “Otherwise you’re walking.”

He offered Eric his hand while Peter complied.

“Have fun.”

Peter was quiet as Tony drove them through the busy city streets. It wasn't the first time that he’d been in the car, and he was over the initial excitement of being in an expensive car and he’d long since grown past the fact that Tony was Tony Stark, Ironman and superhero, so he didn’t stare at the man, like he knew all of the other boys would have.

He had him to himself, just then, though, and had mentioned to JARVIS the night before that maybe now might be the chance he’d been hoping to get to ask Tony about how he should proceed with using his own superhero abilities.

The AI had advised him to be patient for just a little longer. He and Tony were relaxed with each other, now, it had been pointed out. But surprising him with all the other avengers around might annoy him more than impress him. JARVIS wanted to wait and see how the weekend went, first, before letting Stark in on their secret friendship.

“It’s your first time overnight with him,” he’d said. “And a big step closer to the goal. But we’ll see how he handles things.”

Since it was Peter’s goal to learn to use his powers, he wasn't completely sure what spending the night away from the foster home and with Tony had to do with all of that. He trusted JARVIS, however, and had been excited enough to go along with pretty much anything.

Which was a good thing.

When they reached the city limits and Tony pulled the car onto the highway going north, he could relax enough to address his young companion.

“Ground rules…”

Peter wasn't surprised. Tony had ground rules for pretty much everything they did together. They were usually fairly similar.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t wander off.” He was watching the road, since it was raining and the car’s wheels were designed for performance rather than traction in the bad weather, but he was obviously serious. “There are a lot of wooded areas around the compound, and the river on one side. I don’t want you messing around in either of them.”

“Okay.”

“If someone asks you if you want to do something dangerous – even if it’s a SHIELD agent or an Avenger, you say no.”

“What would be classified as dangerous?”

“Shooting any kind of weapon – gun, bow, tank… going for a flight, anywhere. Jumping out of an airplane.”

“You think someone will ask me to do those things?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Stark replied. “But some of them have interesting senses of humor, and they might think it was funny to have you do something that might make me worry. Not to hurt you, of course – none of them would let you get hurt – but because they want to see me lose my shit. Understand?”

“Not really,” Peter admitted.

“Just don’t do anything dangerous. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

><><><><>< 

It was still raining when they reached the compound. Peter had spent the entire drive peppering Tony with questions. Who was going to be there? What were they like, really? Did he like anyone more than someone else? Where was he going to sleep? Who was the strongest? Was the Hulk going to be there? Did he stay in a cage? Where was Thor? Was he really a god? Or just an alien? Were there other aliens, then?

Rather than tell him to be quiet – and it was a sign of just how far they’d come that Tony didn’t do that, automatically – Stark had answered many of the questions posed to him, although not all, of course. He certainly wasn't going to tell anyone who his favorite avenger was, now was he? Not even that Avenger.

“Speaking of Avengers…” Tony murmured as they pulled up to a covered area with a driveway. It was right in the front of the impressive building, and would keep them both from getting rained on. Assembling themselves next to the door (alerted by Tony and his AI without Peter being aware) were a couple of very familiar faces. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Sam Wilson were all watching as the car stopped. Tony looked over at Peter and winked. “Now we don’t need to carry our own bags.”

Peter gave him a slightly nervous smile, looking through the water smeared window with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty on his expression. Stark smiled at yet another reminder that despite his brilliance and his maturity, he was still very much a little boy. He tousled his hair, got out of the car and went around to open Peter’s.

“Come on, buddy,” he coaxed. “They want to meet you.”

“Oh, he’s so little…” Sam said, softly, watching as the child got out of the car, and then hung back when Tony walked over to stop in front of them. All three avengers tried to get a better look, but Peter went shy, and was suddenly hiding behind Tony, peeking out at them from around his leg, his hand holding onto the back pocket of Tony’s jeans. “Is this your friend we’ve heard so much about?”

“Guys,” Tony twisted, just a little, amused, and a hand on Peter’s shoulder brought the child a step closer so they could all see him. “This is Peter. Peter? That’s Steve, Natasha and Sam.”

Sam was closest and was first to offer the boy his hand.

“I hear you’re a pretty interesting guy,” he said, kindly.

Peter smiled, and took his hand, forcing himself not to hide his face against the denim of Tony’s jeans.

“Hi.”

“Did you really break into Tony’s apartment?” Steve asked, stepping up to shake that little hand, too. His smile was friendly, and his blue eyes were alive with good humor that made Peter smile – despite the reminder of the first time Tony would remember meeting him. “Or is Tony just making it up?”

“No. I did.”

“It made him change his security code, at least,” Natasha said, approvingly, when she offered Peter her hand as well. “I kept telling him that his birthday wasn't a good choice.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“What’s the plan?”

“Did he eat?” Steve asked.

“Not since breakfast.”

“Then we feed him and show him around – and then hang out with him.” He looked at the little boy. “Sound good?”

Peter’s smile was more excited, now, than nervous. They were doing what they could to relax him around them, and it was working.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to show you where your room is – which is right beside Tony’s – and Tony can carry your bags with his.”

Stark scowled at that, but Steve only smirked.

Chapter Text

The room he was installed in next to Tony’s permanent quarters was tiny. It was more of a servant’s quarters, Steve told him – although he pointed out that there weren’t really any servants at the compound and it was a figure of speech. There was a bed, a desk, a computer display and an adjoining bathroom. Peter looked around with interest, despite the modest size.

“It’s nice,” he assured both Tony and Steve. “Thank you.”

“What did you pack in this thing?” Tony asked, shaking his hand with exaggerated agony after he put the backpack on the boy’s bed. “It weighs a ton.”

“All my stuff,” came the reasonable reply. “The important stuff, anyway.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, curiously, wondering what an eight year old would think was important.

Peter sat down on the bed and opened the backpack, more than willing to tell them. It was important, but not secret.

He pulled out a small bundle of clothes and set them aside; toothbrush, toothpaste, pajamas, jeans and a t-shirt weren’t important, apparently, Tony decided, as the boy reached into the bag and then handed Steve a yellow manilla envelope. Rogers opened it, pulling out several pictures.

“That’s my mom and dad,” Peter told him, watching as Tony looked over at them, as well. “And May.” The envelope also produced a man’s wristwatch; a handsome one of silver and black, but clearly adult-sized. There was a gouge on one side of the face, but it was running. “That was my dad’s,” Peter said. “When I’m bigger it’ll fit me.”

“It’s nice,” Tony said, returning it, carefully, to the envelope. He had a feeling that he knew where the damage to the watch had come from, but he wasn't going to mention it. The envelope also held some little mementos, small treasures that obviously had some value to Peter, even though none of it was particularly flashy. “Are you sure that you want to carry it around in your backpack like that?”

Peter nodded, taking the envelope back and tucking it back into the bag.

“One of the kids at the home told me I should,” he replied. “Just in case something happens, and they move me without any warning. That way I don’t lose anything. He said he lost all his stuff during the first year he was in foster care, and was giving me the best advice that I’d ever get from anyone.”

Both men were silent for a moment. Peter didn’t notice because he was looking through his bag.

“The rest is a couple of old books, and this…”

He held up the stuffed bear that Tony had won for him at the carnival, and Stark smiled, reaching for it.

“Hey! I remember this guy.”

Peter grinned, looking at Steve.

“He won it for me last month.”

Steve smiled, too, pleased that there was something more cheerful to look at and still a little shaken by the fact that a little boy like Peter was carrying everything that he cared about around with him all the time, just to avoid losing it because his life was so uncertain. Steve had seen bad things done to good people in his life, but such a reminder that those bad things happened to little guys, too, was enough to make his eyes sting.

He took the bear from Tony, examining it with embellished care.

“Yeah? Playing cards?”

“At Coney Island,” Tony told him, also looking a little shaken.

“He knocked down some blocks and let me pick whichever one I wanted,” Peter confirmed, putting the bear back into the backpack when Steve handed it to him. He wasn't upset; and didn’t realize that the two men were. “I got that one because he had the happiest face.”

“He’s great,” Steve said, impulsively reaching for Peter, picking him up and draping him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, eliciting an excited giggle. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Tony still needs to get his things unpacked,” Steve told the boy, who was looking perfectly comfortable hanging upside down. “If you don’t want to wait, you can come with me, and he’ll join us in a few minutes.”

The boy looked at Tony, to see if he was alright with that. None of the ground rules that the billionaire had mentioned had said anything about staying close to him, or avoiding being alone with any of the others. Understanding the question, Tony nodded and shooed him away.

“I trust Steve to make sure you don’t get cake for lunch. Just save me a spot.”

“Okay.”

They left Tony at the door to his quarters, and Steve swung Peter back to his feet, showing him around as they walked toward the lounge.

“Do you live here all the time?” Peter asked when the man mentioned other rooms that were more permanent, even, than Tony’s.

“Pretty much. Unless I’m gone on a mission, or a training.”

He saw Peter’s interest and told him a couple of quick – and PG rated – stories of a recent trip that he’d taken earlier that year with some of the others. By the time he was done, they’d reached the lounge, and Peter saw that Sam and Natasha were waiting, with another man, who smiled, cheerfully, and introduced himself as Hawkeye – but said he could call him Clint, if he preferred.

“What do you do for fun, Peter Parker?” Clint asked, smirking when the boy sat on the chair, but couldn’t see over the table top.

Natasha snorted, went to an impressive bookshelf, and brought over a couple of thick reference books for Peter to sit on, booster style.

“I hang out with Tony.”

The man groaned, while the others rolled their eyes in various stages of amusement.

“You need more hobbies, then.”

“We went to Coney Island,” Peter told him. “And to the park, and the zoo. And he helps me with my schoolwork when I need it. I go to his office after school and spend time with him.”

“Do you need help very often?” Sam asked, curiously.

They’d all heard that Peter was brilliant. Now to see if Tony was exaggerating.

“No. Not too much.” He was handed a bottle of juice by a passing waitperson. “But more than the Tatros can. They’re really great, but they don’t understand my work.”

“Who are the Tatros?” Clint asked.

“They run the home I live in.”

Peter was several months distant from losing his aunt, and a couple of years distant from losing his parents, so he was able to tell them all his history without being too teary-eyed. Although he did choke a little when he mentioned that May had been the last real family that he had, and had tried to sound worldly when he’d noted that he was going to have to live in homes until he was old enough to take care of himself.

The others (except Clint, who really hadn’t been around to be briefed on Peter) all knew the story. Romanoff had immediately looked into the boy’s past when she’d first heard of him, and had relayed it, briefing style, to the others. He was gossip, after all, and had managed to get Tony Stark to pay attention to him without non-stop complaining. Clearly there was much more to Peter than showed externally.

“And you’re in college?” Clint asked, amazed.

“No. I take high school classes, though – and just passed a test that can allow me to have placement in some college courses.”

“College at eight?” Sam said, shaking his head. “He’s like Tony’s mini-me, or something.”

“Peter’s much smarter than I was at his age,” Stark said from behind them, walking over just in time to hear the comment. He smiled at the books Peter was sitting on, and tousled those curls. “I didn’t really start to bloom until middle school – much to my father’s disappointment. Peter’s going to be something special by the time we’re done with him.”

None of them bothered to hide their enjoyment at just how proud of the boy Tony sounded – or how Peter flushed with pleasure at the praise. It was clear the little boy adored Stark, and that Tony actually might like Peter, too.

“You want a burger?” Natasha asked.

Peter nodded and while the Avengers fed their young guest they also interrogated him, finding out what he liked and didn’t like, and what he actually did do for fun. They found out that he could ride a bike, couldn’t swim and had been fishing a time or two and wanted to try camping, some time.

“We’ll have to figure out a way to trick Tony into taking you, sometime,” Steve said, amused.

“Not a chance in hell,” Stark replied, also working his way through a burger and fries. “My idea of camping is a luxury resort with a rustic sounding name and a cocktail in my hand.”

“Language,” Natasha chided, before Steve could. “He’s a little guy, Tony. You can’t swear in front of him like that.”

Stark looked confused.

“What did I say? You mean hell?” he rolled his eyes. “Peter lives with five teenaged boys. He’s heard worse.”

“Which doesn’t mean you can corrupt him,” Romanoff said, leveling a killer glare at the billionaire. “Right, Peter?”

The boy hesitated, not willing to be drawn into an argument, and not familiar enough with Natasha that he understood she was teasing him, and goading Stark.

An arm came around the boy, lifting him from his chair and a hand went to his head to give him a noogie.

“Don’t listen to any of them, Peter,” Clint assured him. “And if Tony won’t take you camping, then some of us will, instead.”

“Today?” Peter asked, hopefully, not at all perturbed at being lifted like a bag of potatoes.

“Nope. Winter’s coming,” the archer told him. “It’ll be too cold, soon, for anything like that, unless you’re a sled dog. We’ll do a raincheck until spring.”

“Besides, it’ll give us a chance to plan, better,” Steve added, clearly enamored of the idea of a camping trip – which wasn't something that he’d done all that often, either.

Chapter Text

By the time they’d finished lunch, Peter was much more relaxed with the adults around him. Clint had been the first to break through, which made sense, since he had kids and was used to them. Steve had plenty of experience dealing with the public and excited kids suddenly turned shy at the presence of Captain America. Sam was a good guy by nature and that extended to the people around him. Natasha was a killer, an assassin, and a spy with absolutely no experience with little kids, whatsoever. But Peter didn’t know that, and when she made the effort, she could do anything she wanted, and fit in anywhere and with anyone – which was a requirement for a successful spy.

The boy took to her, immediately, and she didn’t even have to pretend to like him, as well.

“He seems to be having a good time,” Steve said to Tony, who turned from his tablet to see Clint and Sam playing tug-of-war near the bar, using a giggling Peter Parker as the rope.

Tony smiled as Clint won, and swung the boy by his feet, his hair brushing the floor, but the firm grip of the archer keeping him from actually whacking his little head on anything.

“That’s the whole point of bringing him out here. If he throws up, though, Clint’s cleaning him up.”

“What are you going to do with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Rogers shrugged. “He’s really as smart as you’re bragging about him being?”

Tony nodded.

“Yeah. More, really, because I only deal with the math and sciences part of things. He’s fairly well rounded, though. He plays music, and has a flair for languages. His handwriting is crap, though. You’re better off trying to read chicken scratches than get meaning out of anything he writes out that isn’t an equation.”

“He’s little. That’ll work itself out.”

“Probably.”

“Is he safe?”

Peter whooped when Clint tossed him over to Sam, and Tony tensed as the boy literally sailed through the air, only to be caught, easily, by the other man.

“Not if they keep doing that.”

Someone would drop him, eventually, Tony was sure.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Steve said. “I mean where he lives.”

“He’s safe. The guy that runs the home is a mountain, Steve, and he’s genuinely a good guy. I checked him out. Peter likes him.”

Of course, he had checked him out.

Steve didn’t look convinced, but Sam said something to Peter, set him on his feet and the boy came running over to them, interrupting the conversation he didn’t know they were having.

“Can I go outside with Clint and Sam?” he asked Tony, still smiling.

“It’s raining.”

“Sam’s going to show me how he flies.”

“He can stay under the awning, Tony,” Clint added, the two men having walked over in time to hear Stark’s reply. “And I’ll stay with him the whole time.”

Peter’s brown eyes were huge and hopeful, and Tony frowned, wondering when he’d lost the ability to resist them.

“Don’t get wet.”

Peter nodded.

“I won’t.”

“And don’t get hurt,” he added. Then he looked at Sam. “He doesn’t fly, too.”

“Of course not.”

“Not this time, anyway,” Natasha said, also walking over. “Maybe I’ll come supervise.”

It was clear that the Avengers were enjoying their young guest’s company just as much as he was enjoying theirs. And why not? Peter was adorable, Tony knew, and they were always living on the edge when they were working, so it was nice for them to have a chance to relax a little and let their hair down, so to speak.

“You do that,” Tony agreed. “I’ll be in my workroom when you’re finished.”

“You’re working this weekend?” Sam asked.

Stark shrugged.

“I’m here. I might as well get some things finished.” He looked down at the boy, who was looking up at him, and felt a warm gooeyness spread through his core at just how happy he was, and put his hand on his head, smiling. “But, later, I’ll put on the Ironman suit and really show you how flying is done.”

“Wow.”

Clint reached for Peter’s hand.

“Come on, Peter,” he said. “Let’s go see if Sam can fly in the rain, or if he crashes and lands on his head.”

Wilson snorted.

“Don’t forget his jacket,” Tony told them.

They waved to show that they’d heard him and then were gone.

“He’s adorable, Tony,” Natasha said. “I can’t believe you were afraid of him.”

The billionaire scowled.

“I was never afraid of him…”

She rolled her eyes.

“Steve told me otherwise.”

“I might have mentioned you complaining about him stalking you…” Rogers admitted.

“Annoyed by him,” Tony corrected. “I was annoyed by him. That’s not the same as being afraid.”

“True.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “You know… a kid like that could probably benefit from having a genius in his life.”

“He has a genius in his life,” Stark pointed out. “Me. That was the whole idea of the mentor thing, after all.”

True, it hadn’t been his idea, and he’d gone in kicking and screaming and pouting, but they didn’t need to know that. It was working out, really, and he was enjoying the company.

“I meant something more constant. Maybe permanent.”

Tony wasn't an idiot. He frowned, and shook his head.

“That isn’t going to happen. Forget about it.”

Steve shrugged.

“It’s something to think about.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Romanoff smirked.

“I’m going to go play with Peter. How long are you going to be in your workroom?”

“Until you get tired of entertaining him, or he gets hungry. When either happens, call me and I’ll come take over.”

“What are you going to do tonight?”

“Work on some quadratic equations with him.”

Rogers shook his head.

“Or… you could do something fun, instead.”

“That is fun. He happens to like math, guys.”

“He’s still a little boy, Tony,” Natasha reminded him. “Why don’t we have Steve or someone set up the briefing room to show a movie, and you pipe in the latest Disney release?”

“A movie?”

“Why not? Doesn’t he like movies?”

“He might have mentioned a couple of movies, here and there.”

“Then that’s what you guys should do. He passed his test so make him take a break for the weekend and have fun, instead.”

Tony knew that they weren’t going to understand. They weren’t geniuses, now were they? But he was willing, and he had to admit that a quiet evening watching a brainless cartoon might be a good way to make the child sleepy, later. He had no experience with kids, but he couldn’t see how it couldn’t be a good thing.

“Fine. Set it up.” It was their idea, after all. “I’ll be in my workroom.”

><><><>><> 

“Wow.”

Clint smiled, pleased with himself, even though he was only impressing an eight-year-old. It was the thought that counted, after all.

“Want to try it?”

Peter shook his head, smiling, and put his little hands behind his back, as if to ward off temptation to touch the bow that the archer was holding out to him.

“He couldn’t draw the string, Clint,” Steve pointed out. “Besides, Tony told Peter he’s not allowed to touch any weapons.”

He’d given Steve and Natasha the same list of ground rules that he’d given Peter.

“A bow isn’t a weapon,” Clint pointed out. “It’s just a tool. The arrow is the dangerous part.”

“So I could give him a gun, as long as it isn’t loaded, and not be breaking the rule?” Romanoff asked.

The archer hesitated.

“That’s different.” He winked down at Peter, who smiled. He didn’t mind not trying the bow. “You’ve seen what I can do, and you’ve seen Sam fly. Ready to see what Natasha can do?”

The boy nodded, looking up at Romanoff with interest.

“What do you do?”

She hid her frown. Obviously she wasn't going to tell him her particular skillset, now was she? She didn’t want to scare him, or traumatize him with stories from her past, or past missions.

“I’m pretty good at sneaking around,” she told him. “Want to put it to the test?” Peter nodded, again, and Natasha turned to Steve. “We’re going to need to recruit some more people…”

Rogers smiled, and he nodded, too.

“I’ll make the call.”

>><><><>< 

It was Tony who eventually came looking for them.

The billionaire was accustomed to losing himself in his work. Of getting so involved with what he was doing that nothing else mattered. This time, however, Peter was on his mind, distracting him, as he tried to decide if a grenade launcher was a bit too ostentatious to put on his next Ironman suit, or not. He worked for over an hour on it, and then sighed and turned off the display.

“JARVIS? What is Peter doing?”

The AI was integrated with the compound’s network, after all, and that included the surveillance cameras and security cameras.

“He’s crawling through an overhead air duct, near the gym.”

Tony sat up.

“What?”

“He isn’t alone,” the AI was quick to reassure. “Natasha Romanoff is with him.”

As if that made it any less crazy. Or dangerous.

“Why are they doing that?”

“Unknown without more context.”

“Where are the others?”

“To judge from the activities of all other personnel, it would appear they are looking for Agent Romanoff and Peter.”

The billionaire shook his head and activated the communications on his watch. A moment later, Natasha’s voice came over the system, soft enough that he could barely hear her.

“Not now, Tony,” she said without preamble. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing?”

“Peter and I are playing hide and seek.”

“With whom?”

“Everyone.”

She ended the call before he could say anything else, and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Keep an eye on them, JARVIS,” he ordered his AI. “Let me know if anything happens.”

“Yes, Sir.” There was a pause. “He’s an interesting fellow, isn’t he?”

Tony smiled, leaning back in his chair, now, but not bothering to return to his work. Maybe – subconsciously – listening for the tell-tale thump that would indicate that Romanoff and her accomplice fell out of a vent, somewhere.

“And eight year old who is miles ahead of most of the world? Yeah, you might say he’s interesting.”

“It’s a shame that he only gets to spend an hour or two a day with you.”

“He only needs an hour or so a day,” Tony pointed out. “It doesn’t usually take him that long to do his homework.”

“There are other things you two could do besides homework.”

Stark scowled. He was quick to see what JARVIS was getting at, too.

“We do other things. I brought him here and he’s playing tag with the Avengers.”

“You do something two days a month.”

“Three days, this month.”

“This was an exception.”

“Don’t start on me, JARVIS. Peter doesn’t need to hang out with me more than he does. He’s happy at the Tatro’s. They take good care of him.”

“True. But he is one of six, there.”

“Which gives him a chance to learn to socialize,” Tony reminded the AI. “Obviously, that isn’t something he’d be able to learn from me, now is it?”

“You’re very good with him, sir.”

“Because I can send him home at the end of the day. Change the conversation, will you? I don’t want to hear about it.”

“The state probably wouldn’t allow you a license to be a foster parent, at any rate,” JARVIS said. “You don’t qualify.”

“I’d qualify,” Tony said, immediately. “If I were even interested. Which I’m not.”

“No. It isn’t something you can buy your way into.”

“JARVIS, drop it.”

“Of course.” There was a pause, and Tony waited, because he knew that it wasn't dropped, yet. “It’s not as if you would gain higher public approval by applying, after all. Which might keep down the amount of school tours that you would have to attend, since Miss. Potts would be happy.”

“I’d rather give a school tour every week than have a little kid underfoot full time.”

“Even if it were Peter?”

“Yes,” came the immediate reply, although Tony knew that he wasn't being completely truthful. He got to his feet, wanting to end the conversation – and the inner voices that were nagging him to consider the unthinkable. Maybe he’d go see what the boy was up to with Natasha. “Where are Peter and Romanoff?”

“Hiding.”

“From the others,” Stark said. “Not from me.”

“It wouldn’t be right for me to give away their location.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I’m going to the lounge.”

It was almost dinner time, after all, and Peter would be hungry after his active day.

“Very good, sir.”

Chapter Text

“How come I have to get ready for bed, now?” Peter asked, curiously, looking up at Tony.

“Are you arguing with me?”

“No. Just asking.”

When they were done eating dinner – and a dessert of chocolate cake – the others had excused themselves, while Tony had told Peter that they needed to get him cleaned up and dressed in something more comfortable. He’d walked with the boy back to his little room, and had wet down a wash cloth, using it to clear all traces of the chocolate cake from the boy’s face – which had made Peter smile, even if Tony wasn't nearly as adept at it as Eric was.

“I want you ready for bed, now, so we don’t have to do it, later,” Stark explained. “When you’re tired or cranky.”

“We’re still going to watch a movie, though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Together?”

“How else would we watch it?”

“I don’t know… You could start it with me, get bored and leave.”

The way he said it made Tony certain that it had happened to him, before.

“I’m not going to do that.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and tapped Peter’s nose, affectionately, and smiled when the little boy smiled. “Get your pajamas on, okay? And brush your teeth. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay.”

Ten minutes later Tony was back, and Peter was sitting on the bed, clearly waiting for him. The billionaire smiled.

“Is it wrong that I love your pajamas?”

The little boy smiled.

“I love them.”

They were red and gold and looked like the Ironman suit from the bottom of the legs all the way to the shoulders, which were segmented to look like armor. To judge by just how worn they were, he had owned them long before they’d met.

“You look great.” He couldn’t wait for Steve to see them. “Perfect for watching movies.” He offered Peter his hand and the youngster hopped off the bed and took it. “Steve set us up in the theater.”

“You have a theater here?”

“It’s not really a movie theater,” Tony explained as they walked. “It’s where they show videos of their missions, and the telemetry data from my suit, to do briefings and debriefings. It’ll work for watching movies, too. I suppose I should have had him ask what you wanted to see. We assumed cartoons.”

He was a brilliant little guy, Tony knew. Maybe he didn’t like the fantasy that came with cartoons? Tony realized he still had a lot to learn about him.

Peter nodded, though.

“I like cartoons.”

“Good.”

They didn’t go far, and soon Tony was leading him into a room that was furnished with a sofa that had a blanket draped over the back of it and a couple of fat cushions, as well as a couple of recliners. There was a table that was currently holding a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn, some empty paper buckets, which were clearly intended to hold the aforementioned popcorn. There were small boxes of candies, sodas, juices and bottles of water. Peter saw a that the furniture was all facing a blank wall, rather than any kind of display or screen.

“Wow.”

Tony frowned at all the treats.

“You can’t eat all of that,” he told the boy, wondering what Steve was thinking putting that much sugar out so late. Of course, Steve had about as much experience with children as Tony – less, even – so he supposed that it wasn't some kind of nefarious plot to mess with Tony by getting the boy wired with sugar and bouncing off the walls. “As much popcorn as you want, but either water and a candy, or just juice or a cola.”

Peter walked over to the table and stared in awe for a moment before he reached for a box of m&ms and a bottle of water, then turned and waited while Tony filled a couple of the buckets with popcorn and handed him one.

“Are the others coming?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, walking with him over to the sofa and sitting down. “They might sneak in while we’re watching.”

The boy climbed onto the sofa, as well, spilling his popcorn onto Tony’s lap and making the billionaire roll his eyes, not even scowling at the fact that the butter almost certainly going to stain the expensive pants he was wearing. He adroitly reached over and took the water, the candy, and the rest of the popcorn and felt a little warm and fuzzy inside when Peter tucked himself right beside him.

Putting the popcorn bucket in the boy’s lap and dumping some of his own into it to top off what he’d lost when he’d spilled, Tony then handed him his candy and water.

“Ready?”

Peter’s eyes were lit up with happiness. It might not seem like a big deal to Tony, but no one had done anything like this in a long time. Maybe ever, even.

“Yeah.”

Stark picked up a remote. An instant later the lights went off, and the entire wall was lit up with a bright opening sequence.

“I hope you like Disney.”

The boy just nodded, his eyes now glued on the wall – and the cartoon that started, almost immediately.

><><><><>< 

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Peter turned and looked up at Natasha.

“We’re watching a movie,” he reminded her.

She frowned, looking at the wall that they normally used for their briefings. It was lit up, but the ‘screen’ was blue and there wasn't anything playing. She glanced at Tony, who was sprawled on the couch, covered with a blanket, sound asleep.

“Is it an imaginary movie?” she asked, only barely keeping the sarcasm out of her voice.

Peter smiled.

“It ended about an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you start another one?”

“Tony’s laying on the remote.”

Peter knew; he’d looked for it when the movie had ended. He’d known Tony had fallen asleep, but he didn’t mind. That wasn't the same as being bored and leaving, and when he’d fallen asleep, he’d had an arm around the boy, companionably, so Peter guessed that he was alright sitting with him. He certainly was fine with it. It had been a long time since someone had been interested in holding him for any period of time. Eric or his wife would hug him, and comfort him with an embrace if he woke after a nightmare and couldn’t help the tears that followed, but Tony had pulled the boy against his side and had simply spent time with him.

It was comforting enough that Peter had dozed off, too, only to be woken by the credits of the cartoon playing.

Romanoff smiled and looked at her watch.

“We should get you to bed. It’s pretty late.”

He didn’t argue. And he didn’t tell her about how he only slept a couple of hours a night, most of the time. Instead, he nodded, and she surprised him when she held her arms out to him. With a shy smile, Peter stood up on the couch and allowed her to sweep him up into her embrace, one arm under his rear to give him a seat, while the other went around him.

“Jeeze, you’re heavy,” she complained, hugging him, tightly, to make sure he knew she was only teasing. She smiled when his arms went around her, and his cheek ended up on her shoulder. “Did you like the movie?”

“It was good,” Peter told her. “And I didn’t see it, before.”

“Good. Make sure you tell Steve. He’s the one that picked it out.”

“What about Tony?” Peter asked, as she carried him to the door.

“I’ll come back and send him to bed once I get you settled. That way he knows where to find you.”

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes, sleepily, secure in her arms and savoring the comfort of even more cuddling. It was the best day ever, really, as far as he was concerned. She felt him start to fall asleep and shook her head. Clint had told her how his children seemed to double their weight when they were asleep and she’d never believed him – up until then.

He did rouse when they reached his room, and he opened his eyes to look up at her when she put him to bed, and pulled the blankets up around him.

“Are you warm enough?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Thank you.”

Romanoff smiled and brushed his curls back from his forehead.

“I had fun, today.”

Peter’s echoing smile was complete agreement.

“Me, too.”

“Go to sleep, okay?”

He nodded, and closed his eyes. And felt her brush a kiss against his cheek that made him smile, again. He didn’t hear her leave the room; he was already asleep.

><><><> 

Tony didn’t wake when she turned the lights on, but when she walked over and brushed her hand against his shoulder, he came awake with a start, looking around as he sat up.

“Looking for someone?” she asked, reaching down and picking up the remote that he’d been sleeping on.

“Where is he?”

“I just put him to bed,” she told him, amused at the instant worry. “You can check on him on your way to your bed, but don’t even think of waking him.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. He’s fine.” She smirked, watching as he rubbed his face, tiredly. “Wore you out?”

“It’s been a long week, but Peter isn’t the reason I’m tired.”

“He’s a fun little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” He was sleepy enough that he wasn't even defensive about admitting it. “Is he sleeping, too?”

“He was awake when I came in to check on you guys, but was falling asleep when I covered him up.”

“Was he upset?”

“About what?”

“That I fell asleep on him.”

She shook her head.

“He looked pretty comfortable.”

“Good.”

She didn’t even ask why he thought the child would be annoyed that Tony fell asleep.

“Go to bed, Tony. If you’re lucky, he’ll sleep in. Otherwise, you’re the one who’s going to be chasing him around the compound until the rest of us get up.”

“Yeah.” Good point. “Thanks.”

Romanoff smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

“You’re up early.”

Peter had been sitting on the sofa in the lounge, still dressed in his pajamas, reading a book he’d found on the same shelf Natasha had pulled the books that he’d used as boosters the day before. It was a military history book, and not too interesting to the boy, but he didn’t think anyone would mind if he read it as long as it kept him out of the way while the rest of the compound slept around him.

He’d woken several hours before, and had lounged in his bed for almost ten minutes before boredom made him get up and begin trying to find something to occupy himself. The room was pretty bare, however, and while he’d brought his backpack with him, he didn’t have anything in it that would keep him interested. The lounge wasn't far from his room, and he didn’t think that it would count as wandering off if he was still in the building, so he’d made his way there and had found the book and settled himself.

Now, however, Steve Rogers proved that Peter wasn't the only early riser in the avenger compound, and the man’s expression didn’t look annoyed at finding the boy somewhere other than his room.

“I don’t sleep, much,” he explained, holding up the book to prove that he was being careful. “So I found a book.”

Steve took it, turned it over to read the title, and then handed it back to him.

“A little light reading?” he asked, amused.

“Just something to do.” The little boy turned a few pages and held up the book, again, though, showing a picture of a very familiar figure. “You’re in it.”

Steve smiled, now. Peter knew who he was, of course, but apparently was just beginning to piece together that the Steve Rogers he’d spent some of the day before hiding from with Natasha was the same Steve Rogers who had fought in a war that had been finished decades ago. It was probably surreal.

“Yeah. You know what happened to me, right?”

“Yes. I read about it.” He hesitated. “Did it hurt?”

“Being frozen?”

“The plane crash.”

Oh.

Steve knew how Peter had lost his parents, of course.

“No,” he assured him. “I didn’t feel a thing. It was very quick.”

“Were you scared?”

“No.” He leaned over the back of the couch, his blue eyes meeting Peter’s brown ones. “I didn’t have time to be scared, either. It was like falling asleep.”

“Only you woke up.”

“Yes,” Steve took the book, again, and set it aside, picking up Peter in his powerful arms, easily. “I woke up to a whole new world, really. Much different than the one I left behind.”

“Better, though?” Peter asked.

“In some ways, much better.” He smiled to find himself holding a little kid – not something he did more than long enough to allow a parent to take a photo – and ruffled the boy’s curls, ready to change the subject to something less serious. “I’m going to go for a run. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Can I?”

“Yup.” He looked at the clothes the boy was wearing, and his smile made his eyes light up. “Let’s find you something else to wear, though. Ironman pajamas are all well and good, but I happen to have something much better that Tony’s going to love.”

><><><><><> 

It was a measure of how good the security was at the compound that Tony wasn't worried about finding Peter gone the next morning when he’d woken, dressed, and gone to check to see if the boy was awake, yet. Only to find his bed and room both empty. The bed was neatly made, something that had made Tony frown, and the backpack was sitting in the middle of it. An immediate call to JARVIS who had eyes on every camera and all the past recordings assured him that Peter hadn’t wandered off, but had been shanghaied by Steve.

JARVIS told him that they were outside, under an awning to avoid the heavy rain that was falling, but that Peter had been introduced to one of the guard dogs that patrolled the perimeter of the compound and was rubbing the fearsome beast’s belly as they spoke to the SHIELD agent who held the leash.

Relaxed (if he couldn’t trust Peter with Captain America, who could he trust?) Tony had gone to the lounge to get some coffee and see who else was stirring. He was sitting at a table with Natasha and Sam, discussing what they might do that morning, when Romanoff suddenly smiled, her eyes going over Tony’s shoulder toward the entrance to the room.

“Oh, that’s adorable.”

Curious, Tony turned and looked, as well, and rolled his eyes.

Peter and Steve had walked into the room. Both were wearing sweats and hooded sweatshirts. Steve’s clothing was simply gray; his usual running clothes, Tony knew. Peter, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of blue sweats that were only a little big on him, with a blue sweatshirt that had the Captain America shield on it. Steve’s own personal brand logo. The boy was smiling, and a quick look at Steve showed he couldn’t quite suppress just how smug he looked at having his own personal mini-me, just then.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Tony asked Peter when the boy was close enough to speak to.

Peter’s smile grew.

“Steve gave it to me.”

“I keep getting samples sent to me,” Rogers told Tony, picking the boy up and putting him in the chair with the books. They were going to have to find something a little more permanent if he was going to be a return guest. “They pile up until I have a chance to deliver them to someplace that can use them. Luckily, there were plenty in Peter’s size.”

“Pretty neat, huh?” Peter asked, looking down to admire the sweatshirt. “He has all kinds of stuff; cups, and socks, and a keychain I can give Ned.”

“There’s plenty more, too,” Steve said, smirking. “I’ll send some home for the other boys, too.”

Tony forced himself not to roll his eyes, again, and reached over and tapped Peter’s nose.

“We’ll get you some Ironman things, too,” he told the boy. “That way you guys can all look good.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

The billionaire tossed Rogers a triumphant look, and Steve didn’t bother to hide his amusement at the attempt to be one-upped. He had a lot of merchandizing, after all. Captain America had been around a lot longer than Ironman, after all.

“Christmas is coming,” Sam pointed out. Not immediately, but a few months wasn't that long. “Maybe Santa will bring a sleigh filled with Avenger toys.”

Peter smiled at him.

“Santa isn’t real. Everyone knows that.”

Wilson’s eyes grew wide, and he allowed his jaw to drop open, affecting shock.

“What?? Who told you that?”

“My aunt. She said that Santa’s made up. She said my mom and dad were the ones that bought the presents that showed up under the Christmas tree.” He shrugged. “She must have been right, too,” he added. “Because there weren’t any after they died.”

“Maybe Santa just didn’t know where to find you,” Sam pointed out. “He’s a pretty busy guy, after all, and someone might have forgotten to tell him.”

The little boy shook his head, not convinced, but clearly considering the possibility.

“I don’t think so…”

He was magic, right?

“What time are you taking Peter home, today?” Natasha asked, Tony, curiously, ready to switch topics, even though the conversation was more upsetting for her than it was for Peter.

“Late. Why?”

She smiled at the boy.

“Because I’m not done spending time with him.”

Stark couldn’t help but smile at Peter’s happy expression at the words. She had that little kid wrapped around her finger, already, clearly.

“I’m going to show him my workroom, today, after breakfast, and if it stops raining I’ll take the suit out for a spin so he can see how the expert does it.”

“I’m an expert,” Sam protested, winking at Peter. “Right, Pete?”

The boy smiled. Sam had been going all out the day before when he’d shown Peter his flying skills, and it had been incredible.

“Yeah.”

“Rhodes is coming out, today,” Steve reminded Tony, in case he’d forgotten. “You could do a mock dogfight.”

Peter looked at Tony, hopefully.

The billionaire smiled.

“We could make that happen.”

Chapter Text

“Are you having fun?” Tony asked Peter after breakfast.

They were on their way to the workroom, and Peter was once more practically wriggling with eagerness. Especially since Tony had told him he was going to show him the newest suit that he was working on. One that no one else had even seen, yet.

“A lot of fun,” Peter confirmed.

Tony wasn't surprised. The kid was hanging out with the Avengers, after all. Of course he was having a good time.

“Best part?”

Peter hesitated and then shook his head.

“I can’t choose.”

Tony smiled.

“No one else is around,” he pointed out. “You can be honest and say it’s me. I won’t tell anyone.”

The boy giggled.

“I liked the movie.”

“The movie? Or the other stuff that went with it?”

Not that he was fishing for compliments – much – but if it was something Peter enjoyed, Tony had a ready available reward for anything that might come their way. They didn’t need to go to the compound to see a movie, either. They could make movie night a regular thing.

“The other stuff that went with it,” he replied, looking up at Tony. He hesitated, again. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony felt himself smiling, and there was a weird ache in his chest for just a moment, as he looked down at the boy.

“I like spending time with you, too.” And sure as shit, the minute he said it, Tony realized that it was true, and he wasn't just saying it to be nice. “You’re pretty good company,” he added.

Peter’s expression made it clear that the boy thought the same, and Tony surprised himself by reaching down and offering him a hand to hold. Which was accepted, immediately, and wasn't released until they reached their destination.

“Wow…”

The workshop was impressive. More impressive than anything Peter had ever seen before, and his eyes were wide as he looked around. There was tech everywhere, and pieces of metal that were colored gold and red neatly in place on the table and popping out some open drawers. More impressive, though, was the display. Behind the clear plastic was a full suit staring back at him.

“JARVIS? Pull up the latest results from our last test run.”

“JARVIS?” Peter echoed, looking up over his shoulder at Tony.

“Hello, Peter…”

The voice was gentle, and Peter’s jaw dropped at the sound of it. They’d had a lot of conversations, but they were only typed to each other.

“Wow.”

Tony smiled at the awe in Peter’s voice and expression.

“JARVIS is my AI. He keeps me on track.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“You do?”

“We met.”

The billionaire frowned.

“You did? When?”

Peter hesitated, but only for a moment. He wasn't a liar by nature and didn’t even consider it with Tony.

“When I tried to hack your systems. Before we met.”

Officially.

“You tried to hack my systems?” Tony echoed, confused. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to meet you. I thought I could find out your schedule, and get you alone. I tried, remember? I needed to ask you how to-“

“Wait…” Tony Stark was capable of going from confused to angry fairly quickly, and this wasn't an exception. He interrupted Peter’s explanation by simply raising his hand. “You hacked JARVIS?”

“No. I mean, I didn’t even know him. I thought I was trying to hack your smart house.”

“Why?”

“To learn your schedule. So I could-“

“Is that how you knew where I was all the time?” Tony scowled. “You were using my AI against me?”

“No. I-“

“And that’s how you got into the field trips? And you programmed JARVIS to convince me to pick you as my mentee?”

“What? No.” Peter took a step back from the anger he could see building in the man’s expression. “I didn’t have-“

“This was all some kind of trick?”

“No.”

“Sir… You-“

“You stay out of this, JARVIS,” Tony snapped. He scowled down at Peter, who had backed himself – literally – into a corner, pale and frightened. “I trusted you.”

“I know. I didn’t mean-“

“Sir. Peter-“

“JARVIS, shut up,” Stark said, icily. “Or I swear to all that’s holy I’ll shut you down right here and now.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Peter told Tony, quickly, defending his friend. “I asked him to help me. I needed your help and you wouldn’t listen-“

“I don’t want to hear it,” Tony interrupted, furious, now. The little whelp had turned his own AI against him. Just to get an autograph? Or to meet the other Avengers, or who knew why? It didn’t matter. Feeling very much abused by what he could only see as betrayal, Tony pointed a finger at the boy, who shrank back from the anger in his expression. “Go pack your things. I’m taking you home.”

Eyes wide and watery, Peter tried one more time.

“Please, Tony… I didn’t mean-“

“Go! Now!”

Peter broke and ran, dodging past Tony and throwing himself at the door. He flung it open – breaking it in the process – and vanished with a strangled sob that echoed in the hallway.

Stark cursed, and sat down at the worktable, running his hand through his hair, still angry, but already feeling that he might have overreacted.

“Run a self-diagnosis and clear your programming of any tampering.”

“There isn’t any tampering,” JARVIS told him. “Peter attempted to hack me, but wasn't able to get beyond the first level of clearance before I found out what he was doing.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“It doesn’t make it less true.”

“Run the diagnosis. I want your programming secured before I take him home.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my programming.”

“Don’t argue with me. Just do it.”

Tony pulled down the closest display and turned it on, determined to watch the data – just to make sure.

><><><><>>< 

Peter couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe, even. It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. Again. Blinded by tears and a crushing sorrow, he ran down the corridor, turning when it turned, but not paying any attention to where he was going.

Tony hated him. All of the fun that they’d had was never going to happen again. He was going to take him home, and Peter wouldn’t see Steve, or Natasha, or Sam or any of the others, again. His excellent memory had no trouble remembering the fury in Tony’s expression when he accused him of tricking him. Of being deceitful. Gone were the smiles. All Peter had seen was surprise and then anger and hurt.

Peter had to run away from that. Had to outrun it.

A door loomed in front of him and he crashed through it without slowing, hearing a crack as it slammed open and hit a wall, but not stopping to see if it was broken. He didn’t even feel the cold when he ran out from under the awning and into the driving rain, and he didn’t stop when he felt the concrete under his feet give way to soggy grass and then eventually to the loam that blanketed the floor of the woods out behind the compound.

He just ran, blindly, until he ran face-first into a tree. Then he crumpled to the ground in a heap and sobbed.

Chapter Text

They were in the middle of a quick conversation about tests that Rhodey planned to run when he was out at the compound when Steve and Natasha both got the distracted looks that they wore when someone was talking in the communication buds in their ears. A moment later, both were frowning twin looks of concern.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“What’s up?” he asked Steve, as Natasha headed, wordlessly, to the door and left.

“Security just saw a little kid running across the field and out into the woods.”

“A little kid?” Clint echoed. “Peter?”

“He’s the only little kid we have, right? Nat’s going to check it out.”

“Where’s Tony?”

“In his workshop, last anyone knew.” He stood up. “But I’m going to go check that out…”

><><><><><> 

“Do you believe me, now?”

Stark scowled.

“Run it, again.”

“It’s a waste of time. An eight year old couldn’t hack me. I-“

“JARVIS, just do what you’re told.”

“Security just reported a small figure running across the field into the woods,” the AI told him, suddenly. “Agent Romanoff has responded.”

“What? What kind of small figure?”

“Cameras show a small child in a blue sweatshirt.”

Tony scowled, again, and got to his feet.

“That little…” his voice was annoyed, and his expression thunderous. “I told him to go pack his shit, I didn’t tell him to go for a run in the rain. Now I have to go-“

“Steve Rogers is at the door.”

“Tony?”

The door to the workshop locked, automatically, when Stark was in it. It kept people from interrupting him when he was in the groove and didn’t want to be bothered. At the moment, though, the door was broken, but Tony didn’t realize it until he moved to open it and saw the wood frame was slightly separated from the rest of the door. Frowning, and wondering how he hadn’t seen that, before, he didn’t have a chance to think about it, further, because it was opening and a worried looking Steve Rogers was suddenly looming in his doorway.

“Hey.” Stark was already reaching for his glasses. “I don’t have time to talk,” he told Steve. “Apparently I have to go track down an eight-year-old menace.”

Steve had no trouble recognizing the anger in the words and tone.

“Nat went to get him. What’s going on?”

><><><><><> 

She was soaked by the time she found him, even using the impressive tech that security had available. The woods around the compound were dotted with cameras to keep track of anyone who might think it was exciting (or smart) to try and sneak up on the place, but they weren’t everywhere, and didn’t see everything. Romanoff shivered, slightly, and heard a stifled sob coming from her left. Turning that way, she found what (or who) she was looking for.

A small form huddled at the base of one of the trees, crying as if the world had suddenly ended.

The assassin made a soft noise and went over and knelt down beside him.

“Peter…?”

He either didn’t hear her, or he ignored her. Either was possible, considering the sobs that were shaking his little body. Natasha reached a hand out and put it on his back. His sweatshirt was soaking wet, and a she could feel just how chilled it was. It couldn’t be doing much to keep him warm. She felt him tense, just a little, at her touch, and he tightened himself into even more of a ball, if it was possible.

“Peter…?” she repeated. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

There was a muffled reply, but it was strangled by his crying and the fabric his face was pressed against, somewhere near his arms.

Natasha finally just picked him up and settled herself into the little space he’d been in. She gathered him against her, trying to shield him from the driving rain, and then frowned when she realized she was seeing blood on the front of the sweatshirt. It made her push him back, just enough that she could see his face. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, his face was swollen and wet from rain and tears, and there was a cut on his lower lip that was bleeding, freely, and a mark just under it.

“What happened?” she asked, frowning.

There was no way Stark had hit him, so he must have hit a tree, or something, she determined, using her sleeve to wipe away some of the blood that the rain hadn’t rinsed.

“He hates me,” Peter said, hiccupping and burying his face against her neck, a new spate of tears overwhelming him.

“He doesn’t hate you…” She wasn't going to stay out in the rain. She could feel him trembling in her embrace, and while some of it might be from the tears and sobs, it was too cold to be so wet. “Come on, baby,” she crooned, pressing her lips against his cold cheek. “Let’s get you inside and dried off.”

“Tony found out I know JARVIS,” Peter told her, brokenly, not arguing when she picked him up and started back to the compound building. “He got mad at him, and me.”

“You know Tony’s AI?” she asked. “How?”

“I hacked him a long time ago, trying to figure out a way to meet Tony.” He shivered, and she tightened her hold on him, pulling up the hood, despite it being just as wet as everything else he was wearing. “I needed to talk to him, but he kept telling me to go away…”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like strangers.”

“He doesn’t like me, either,” Peter told her, lowering his head, again, and sniffing, woefully.

“Sure he does.”

“He told me to go pack, because he’s going to take me home.” Peter’s voice was muffled. “Now he hates me, and I really do like him – and not just because I want him to teach me how to be a superhero.”

She crooned to him, trying to comfort him as he began sobbing, again. She’d broken free of the trees and saw Clint coming across the field to meet them. He was wearing a rain jacket, but took it off and covered Peter with it as soon as he was close enough.

“Is he alright?” he asked Natasha.

“He’s freezing,” she told the archer. “And he hit his face. Have one of the medics meet us in the lounge.”

She didn’t have a hand free to relay the message, herself.

“I’ll tell Tony to meet us there, too.”

Romanoff shook her head, scowling.

“No. He can stay wherever he is.”

She was going to have enough trouble getting Peter calmed down enough to try and explain all of it, again. The last thing she needed was Tony Stark underfoot, as well. Especially if he was being a dick.

><><><><> 

“So, turns out he’s been playing me this whole time,” Tony said, furiously.

Steve frowned.

“Playing you? Tony, he’s eight.”

“People keep saying that to me. Like that means anything. He’s brilliant. You don’t get it, because you can’t see his genius. He’s-“ He stopped when Steve’s face got that distracted look that said he was being told something in his ear. “What?”

“Nothing. Nat found him and is bringing him back to the compound.”

“Good. Tell her to help him get his things together so I can take him home.”

“Stop being so dramatic. She’s going to have a medic take a look at him.”

The fury in his expression cracked for just a moment.

“A doctor? Why?”

“Hit his face, from what I hear. And he’s cold and wet.” The blonde man raised his troubled gaze toward his friend. “She says she doesn’t want you anywhere near him, right now.”

Stark reacted predictably to that.

“Since when does she give the orders around here?” he asked, starting to get to his feet. “He’s my responsibility. I need to make sure he’s alright.”

Rogers didn’t have any trouble catching Tony’s arm and stopping him.

“She’ll make sure he’s alright. You’re far too angry with him to be anywhere near him, right now.”

The billionaire tried to free himself, but Steve was a lot stronger than he was.

“Let me go.”

“Why would Peter want to hack your AI?”

“He didn’t hack me,” JARVIS told them, both. “He tried and I caught him. And then asked him that question, myself, to ascertain his motivations.”

Tony frowned.

“And…?”

“And he wanted some help from you, but couldn’t figure out how to ask without freezing. So I helped him.”

“Help with what?” Steve asked, curiously. “How to pass that test that he passed?”

Tony shook his head.

“That wasn't that tricky.”

“Correct,” JARVIS agreed. “That is not what he needs assistance with.”

“Then what?” Tony asked.

“I promised not to tell.”

“What?”

“I wanted to know his secret, but he wouldn’t tell me unless I promised not to divulge it. I have not been given permission from him to tell you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Steve snorted.

“Your AI is keeping secrets, Tony. Congratulations, it’s as stubborn as you are.”

“It isn’t funny, Steve.” Now he was more curious than angry. “What could he possibly be keeping secret that he doesn’t want anyone to know?”

“He’s not your kid, is he?” Rogers asked, suddenly. “I mean… he’s insanely smart and so are you, and I suppose if you squint really hard, there could be a resemblance…”

“No. He isn’t mine.”

“You're sure? I know you had that reckless phase you went through. Lord only knows how many kids you could have out-“

“He isn’t related to me, Steve. I checked him out. I’d have found the connection.”

“You checked?” Steve asked. “Or JARVIS checked?”

Stark’s eyes narrowed.

“JARVIS checked.”

“He isn’t yours,” JARVIS said. A display came on, and two separate driver’s licenses came up; one for Mary Parker, and one for Richard Parker. Tony studied the man, carefully – and the woman, for that matter. He didn’t recognize her, and didn’t have to squint at all to see a resemblance between the man and the boy that he’d been working with for the last couple of months. “Peter’s assumed conception date puts his mother in France – with his father. That same date range has you here in the states.”

Tony made an annoyed sound.

“Then what’s the secret?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“JARVIS… this isn’t funny, anymore.”

“It never was funny, sir. Peter is a sensitive child who needs handled with care and love. Your handling of this situation has jeopardized your relationship with him, and he may not tell you, now, or seek your assistance.”

“My handling of the situation…?” A vein popped out on Tony’s forehead. “Are you out of your quantum fiber mind? I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the victim of some kind of crazy scheme cooked up between you and an eight year old.”

“Incorrect. You’re the victim of a scheme that I cooked up – as you put it – and brought the eight year old along with. Peter knows nothing of any of this, save that he needs help and I promised him I would help him get that assistance.”

“I’m not helping him,” Tony said, stubbornly, arms crossing over his chest.

“I’m not asking you to,” JARVIS told him. “He has other resources, now. Perhaps someone else would be better suited to nurture and guide him.”

Chapter Text

There was a medic waiting in the lounge with Sam when Natasha carried Peter into the room, Clint close beside the two and shaking out the rain jacket that he’d pulled from over Peter once they’d made it inside. Romanoff carried the little boy over and sat him down on the table to make him a little easier to get to.

“What happened, Peter?” Sam asked, reaching out to touch his soaked hair.

He was shivering, now, but he wasn't crying – although is big brown eyes were filled with sorrow and sadness and were red.

“Tony’s mad at me…”

“We’ll worry about that in a bit,” Natasha told him, moving just a little to allow the doctor to have access to his patient. “Right now, let’s get you checked out.”

“Someone bring some dry clothes,” the doctor ordered. “And a towel or two.”

Clint left to obey, leaving Natasha and Sam to watch as the doctor brought out some medical equipment and set it on the table next to Peter’s leg. The boy turned to look at them, but the doctor took his head in his hands and forced him, gently, to look up at him.

“How does it look?” Romanoff asked, sliding her hand along Peter’s back to support him.

“What did you hit, little man?” the medic asked.

“A tree… I think. I wasn't watching where I was going.”

Gentle fingers probed Peter’s lower lip.

“Don’t bite me…”

That made the boy smile for the first time since he’d left the workroom.

“Okay.”

The lip was carefully moved to expose Peter’s teeth, which the medic pushed carefully to see if they were loose.

“He cut his lip on his teeth when he hit,” came the final diagnoses. “His teeth are fine.” The medic smiled down at Peter, charmed at having such a young guy for a patient when he was used to headstrong adults. He tapped the boy’s nose, making him smile, again. “Get him dried off, changed into something warm, bundle him up and keep him by a heater or the fireplace until he’s warmed up. It doesn’t look like he’s concussed, but call me if he starts acting weird.”

“Weirder than normal?” Natasha asked, also smiling down at the boy.

By the time the doctor was finished with him, Clint had returned with a couple of towels and clean, dry clothes. They were Peter’s, which told the boy that the archer had gone to his little room to get them. Clint stepped up, taking the doctor’s place closest to Peter, and began drying the boy’s hair, and carefully doing the same to his face and neck.

“Hands up, kid…” he said, demonstrating, and Peter lifted his arms so Clint could pull the sweatshirt off, as well. “Nat? Scoot.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing that Peter probably wouldn’t have kicked her out of the room while they changed him from his wet clothes into dry, but she was fine with it. She didn’t actually leave the lounge, though. She settled herself on the sofa on the other side of the room while Sam and Clint helped the boy out of his soggy wet clothing and into some that were much warmer.

“Bring him to me,” she ordered the two men when he was dry.

Clint handed him to her and Romanoff covered both of them with a blanket to help warm him with her own body heat as well as his, and gathering him into her embrace.

“Better?” Clint asked, sitting on the arm of the sofa.

Peter nodded, resting his cheek against Natasha’s arm, and wallowing in the feeling of being warm, once more – not to mention being held.

“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, gently.

The boy nodded, but he didn’t lift his head.

“Yes.”

Sam took a seat in a chair next to where Clint was perched. They were pretty skillful interrogators – and Peter was eight – so either of them could probably have asked the questions, but they left it up to Romanoff, who was the expert with questions, if not children.

Besides, she was holding him, just then.

“What happened with you and Tony?” she asked.

“He introduced me to JARVIS, but I already knew him.”

“And Tony didn’t know?”

“No. I didn’t tell him. JARVIS told me not to.”

“Then he can’t be mad at you for that.”

Peter sniffed.

“He is.”

“You mentioned that you wanted Tony’s help.”

“Yes.”

“Because you want to learn to be a superhero…?” Natasha asked, remembering the conversation.

“Yes.”

“You’re a little small for that,” Sam pointed out.

“I know.”

“But…?”

“But I need to learn how to use them.”

“Them?” Romanoff echoed. “Them what?”

He hesitated, looking at her, and then turning his head each direction to look at the other two.

“You won’t tell?”

“Not if you don’t want us to,” Clint said, indulgently, as if expecting Peter to mention that he was super smart, or something.

A good skill, and impressive as hell for an eight year old, but not really something that would make a person a superhero. Tony Stark needed a suit wrapped around him, after all, and he was the smartest person Clint knew.

Peter buried his face in Natasha’s collarbone and told them, succinctly, the same story that he’d typed out to JARVIS. First his basic history; losing his parents, and then living with his aunt, and then being sent to a temporary foster home when she'd gone to jail and died, and then moving to Eric’s. They all three already knew that part, of course, but they all started paying more attention the more story was told. Especially when Peter told them about the trip to the lab and the bite from whatever it might have been.

“So what kind of things are we talking about?” Sam asked, curiously.

“I’m not sure,” Peter admitted. “I mean, I know I’m pretty strong. And I wasn't, before. And I feel people around me when I can’t see them. I see in the dark pretty well.”

“That’s because you eat carrots,” Clint told him.

“Strong how?” Natasha asked, although she echoed the smile that Peter sent Barton’s direction. “Can you pick up those books you sit on in the chair?”

“Stronger than that.” He yawned, mightily, worn out from talking and being warm now, after his harrowing ordeal. “I don’t know how strong, though. I’m not sure how to experiment.” He closed his eyes, nestling his head against Natasha’s curves. “Which is why I needed help.”

“That makes sense,” she said, approvingly – and maybe a little indulgently, as well. He was eight. How strong could he be? She brushed a kiss against the top of his head “Why don’t we experiment, later? Then we can see.”

“We could, now.”

“I want you to relax,” she told him. “We’re just going to hang out, okay?”

“What do I do about Tony?” he asked, pulling his head away from her to look up at them, hopelessly. “He doesn’t like me, anymore.”

“He likes you fine,” Clint assured him. “He’s just gotta get over the mad, first. Stark’s like putting a mentos in a bottle of coke, sometimes. Reactive as all get out, and doesn’t think, first.”

“Besides, you don’t need Stark,” Sam pointed out, also noticing that Peter was looking a little droopy-eyed and tired. “There’s a whole bunch of superheroes, here, that can help you. Take a nap, buddy. It won’t seem as awful when you have a little sleep under your belt.”

Peter closed his eyes, still holding Natasha.

“I want Tony to like me…” he murmured, falling asleep.

He did need him. He just didn’t realize how much until it seemed he was gone, now, for good.

><><><><>< 

Tony was still arguing with his AI when the call came into Steve’s earpiece. Now, though, he was tinkering with a program on his display, clearly looking at JARVIS’ programming.

“Peter’s fine,” he said, despite the look Tony gave him that tried to make it seem as if he wasn't interested. “He busted his lip open and will have a bit of a bruise. No stitches, or anything.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” Stark said, feeling relief but not showing it. He was adept at hiding his real feelings, after all. “Now I have to convince his foster dad that I didn’t get mad at him and hit him, or something.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry,” Rogers said.

“Easy for you to say,” Tony replied. “The guy’s huge. And pretty protective. JARVIS? Any video of him running in the woods? Or are you going to keep that from me, too?”

“Running into the woods, yes. Running into the tree? No.”

Slightly mollified by the reply, Stark got to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked.

“I’m going to go check on him.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Good. Then he won’t be so annoying, will he?”

Steve frowned.

“Tony…”

The billionaire rolled his eyes. He was over the mad – at least, JARVIS’s attitude had convinced him that he had been angry at the wrong person, anyway – and was worried, now, despite the reassurances from the updates Steve had given him.

“I want to make sure he’s alright.”

Steve wanted to check on him, too, so it didn’t take much convincing.

“Fine.”

“JARVIS? Where is he?”

“The lounge.”

Chapter Text

Sam, Natasha, and Clint were in the lounge when Tony and Steve arrived. A quick glance around the room showed the billionaire that Peter was in the lounge, too, only he was asleep on the sofa, so bundled in the blanket that Natasha had wrapped him in that all Stark could see was a mop of curls. He leaned over the back of the couch to check on him, but still couldn’t see much more than just his hair. The little boy had his face buried in the soft pillow.

Steve had gone to sit with the others at the table, and Tony walked over, as well.

Romanoff caught him with her killer glare as soon as he was close enough to see it.

“What the hell, Tony?”

He raised his hands, defensively.

“I got mad. I overreacted.”

“You think?” She said, sarcastically, only keeping her voice down because she didn’t want to wake the sleeping boy. “He was in tears. What did you say to him?”

“I told him to get his things packed because I was taking him home.” Stark replied. “I was angry.”

“It’s not an excuse. He could have really hurt himself, running into that tree. You had no right to-“

“He tried to hack my AI, Natasha. He turned JARVIS against me.”

“He didn’t do anything to JARVIS,” Steve reminded the billionaire.

“I thought he did at the time.” Tony frowned. “What did the doctor say?”

“Nothing’s broken. He just hit his face and cut his lip.”

“We’re supposed to keep an eye on him,” Clint added. “When he wakes up.”

“You're not taking him home, right now,” Natasha told him. “He was promised a day with us, and you’re not ruining that any more than you already have.”

Stark scowled. He didn’t like being told what to do. Even by someone as formidable as Natasha Romanoff. Before he could argue with her, though – and he wasn't completely sure that he even wanted to – James Rhodey walked into the lounge, dressed casually in jeans and a polo. He was quick to note the annoyed expressions on Romanoff’s face and Tony’s.

“Uh oh, what did I miss?”

“Tony traumatized Peter, and Natasha’s mad at him for it,” Clint replied, amused, now that he’d seen for himself that Tony was over being mad, and wasn't being too much of an ass.

He loved watching those to spar, verbally. Nat was more than capable of handling anyone. Even someone like Stark..

“I didn’t traumatize him,” Tony snapped. “I said some things that I shouldn’t have, but I’ll apologize and make it up to him.”

Rhodes raised an eyebrow.

“Peter’s here?”

“Sleeping on the couch,” Sam said. “So keep your voice down.”

“He won’t sleep long, anyway,” Natasha said – although her voice was soft. “He doesn’t sleep too much.”

“How do you know that?” Tony asked.

“He told me while we were hiding in the air ducts, yesterday.”

Rhodey frowned, confused.

“Why were you hiding in the air ducts?”

“Long story,” Natasha told him. “You’re going to dogfight with Tony, later, when Peter wakes up.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I promised Peter that we would,” Tony said.

“And now he has to make up for being a jerk,” Clint added.

“It’s raining.”

“You could do it without the suits,” Steve said, shrugging. “But it wouldn’t be as much fun for him to watch.”

“Although I’d find it hilarious,” Natasha told them, smirking.

Rhodes frowned, looking over at Tony, who shrugged.

“C’mon, Rhodey. You won’t melt.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

The other man just shrugged, too. He liked dogfighting with Tony, truth be told. Stark was good with his suit, of course, but Rhodes was a military man and knew tactics. He actually had a chance of beating him, occasionally.

“You owe me lunch, though.”

“Sure.” Tony looked at the others. “How long did the doctor say we should allow Peter to sleep?”

“He didn’t tell us to let him sleep,” Natasha told him. “He fell asleep once we got him calmed down a bit.”

“My kids do that,” Clint said, knowingly. “They’ll throw a fit, or have a crying jag, and once that adrenaline is done, they’re out.”

“For how long?”

Stark was anxious to talk to Peter, and to make sure the blow to the head didn’t addle him, or something.

“Depends on the kid.”

“Huh.”

“He’s fine, Tony,” Steve said. “We have about an hour until lunch. If he’s still sleeping, then, we’ll wake him up so he can eat, and then check him out.”

“Until then, you can show me the specs that you have set up for the trial on your new suit,” Rhodes suggested.

“Sure.” He looked at the couch, again. “But in here, okay? The door to my workroom is broken, and I don’t want to be bothered when Steve sends someone to fix it.”

“The one leading out to the field is, too,” Hawkeye told them.

Romanoff frowned.

“Did Peter break them on his way out?”

“He’s a little kid,” Rhodes reminded them. “I don’t know about the one in the hall, but I know he couldn’t have done that much damage to a maglock door.”

Natasha just shrugged, and looked at Sam and Clint, who were also looking speculative.

“What is it?” Tony asked, not missing the silent exchange.

“Nothing,” Natasha replied. “Just thinking about something I was told, earlier.” She stood up. “I’m going to go get some work done. Call me for lunch.”

“I’ll come, too,” Sam said, getting up, also.

“So will I,” Clint agreed.

The three left, and Rhodes looked at Stark.

“What was that all about?”

“Who knows?” Tony answered with a shrug.

It wasn't like Romanoff would tell him unless she wanted to, anyway.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Steve told them.

He had doors to get fixed.

“So what happened?” Rhodey asked his friend once they all were gone.

“It’s a long story.”

“And you’re going to tell me, right?”

Tony sighed.

“Yeah.”

><><><><><> 

“Peter…?”

He felt a hand touching his cheek, and it woke him from a sound sleep. The boy felt a shiver of irritation at being woken – he didn’t sleep well, but when he did, it was so nice…

The hand brushed his hair from his forehead, and it was gentle and warm.

“Hey, buddy, wake up a bit.”

He opened his eyes, sleepily, and found himself looking at Tony, who was leaning over him. Peter remembered, suddenly, that Tony was mad at him, and that he’d told him to pack, and he hadn’t done that. He woke with a gasp, eyes filling with tears before he could stop them.

“I didn’t pack…” he said, trying to sit up but tangled in the blanket that he remembered he’d been sharing with Natasha. “I’m sorry! I’ll go-“

“Hey…” Tony’s hand was on his chest, holding him still, and his expression was troubled. “It’s okay.”

If there had been any question that he’d well and truly fucked up, that was certainly answered, Tony decided, seeing the fear and tears in the little boy’s eyes.

“No. I-“

“Peter…” he reached down with both hands and picked the child up, gathering him into his arms, blanket and all. “Hey… I’m sorry. You don’t have to pack, okay? I was mad, and I never should have taken it out on you like I did. I’m not taking you home. Not right now, anyway. Not until we’re done having our fun afternoon.”

“I don’t?”

“No, buddy. I’m sorry I upset you.” He was holding him close, trying to comfort but not really very good at it. “I’m really sorry.”

Peter’s tears didn’t stop.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Tony hugged him until the boy gained a little more control of his tears, just holding him and making soft noises designed to comfort and reassure. Peter eventually relaxed enough to allow his cheek to drop to the man’s shoulder, and even through the blankets Tony could feel him relaxing.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Stark told him. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I’m hungry.”

He nodded and then set him down so he could get untangled from the blanket, feeling a little better, himself.

“Good. Rhodey’s here. When we’re done eating, he and I are going to put on our suits and do a dogfight so you can see what they can do. Yeah?”

“Okay.” Peter smiled, uncertainly, and Tony saw that the bruise on his chin was purple.

The lip wasn't so swollen, though, as he had been worried that it would. Aware that it was his fault that Peter had hurt himself at all, Tony had to fight down the urge to hug the kid, again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

Peter shrugged, uncertain how to respond to that.

“It’s okay.”

“What was it that you needed?” Tony asked. “When you spoke with JARVIS, I mean? You know I’d give you anything that you ask for.”

He had to know that, even though Tony had just realized the truth of the statement right as he was saying it. Yes, because he felt guilty, of course, but also because he liked Peter, and wanted his smile to be the happy one that he liked so much. Not the uncertain expression that he knew was his own fault.

Peter hesitated, and then shook his head and looked down to untangle the blankets.

“It’s alright,” he answered. “I’ll figure it out.”

Maybe Natasha and them would still be willing to help, but he didn’t want Tony to think that he wanted anything from him. He didn’t want to see him mad at him, again. Or ever.

Tony wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him that he meant what he was saying, because he didn’t know didley about kids, but he’d spent enough time with Peter to recognize that he was a bit subdued. He didn’t argue, though. It wasn't going to help for him to try and convince Peter he was sincere. He’d screwed up, and he’d lost something between them because of it.

That wasn't on Peter, though, and Tony knew it.

If it was going to be fixed, it was going to be him that needed to fix it. He just nodded, and picked Peter up, easily, tucking him into his embrace.

“Come on,” he said, carrying him over to the table on the other side of the room where Rhodes was sitting, waiting for Tony – and the others – and looking at some information on the tablet he was holding. “Let’s get you ready to eat.”

Rhodes smiled a greeting when Tony settled the boy into the chair with the books as a booster.

“Hey, Cheese Pizza. Remember me?”

Peter smiled, too, echoing the cheerfulness he could easily read in the man’s expression – and his eyes.

“Hello. Yes.”

“Rhodey is War Machine,” Tony reminded Peter, sitting down, too. “You knew that, right? I told you.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to your face, Cheese Pizza?” Rhodes asked, reaching out and frowning at the bruise as he prodded the area around it, carefully. “Did Tony beat you up?”

That made Peter’s smile broaden, despite the stab of pain from the split lip.

“No. I ran into a tree.”

“Better watch where you’re going,” he was told, as the others began filing into the room, as well. “You’ll give the Avengers a reputation for being bad hosts.”

Chapter Text

Lunch was a boisterous affair, and when it was over Tony and Rhodes went to get suited up while the others bundled Peter into another sweatshirt – and his jacket – and they went outside. Not to the awning, though, next to the field. Instead, they took him up onto the roof.

“Don’t go anywhere near the edge, okay?” Natasha warned, as they huddled out of the wind and rain near a wall and protected, somewhat, by an overhang.

“I won’t,” he agreed.

To prove that, he stepped closer to her side, until he was pressed up against her leg.

Before she could do more than nod approvingly, there was a sudden blast of a rocket close at hand, and Peter yelled in excitement when the Ironman suit soared into the air close enough to them to be seen. Almost close enough that it seemed he could have reached out and touched it. An instant later he was followed by War Machine, and the two hovered close enough to be seen.

“They’re not really going to shoot at each other,” Steve told Peter, forced to admit that the two of them looked pretty impressive. “There’ll be a lot of fancy flying, and mock shooting. Bangs, but no real rounds.”

“Wow.”

Steve waved a hand at the hovering figures, and Peter took an excited step forward as they shot into the air, again, feeling Natasha’s hand on the back of his jacket keeping him close. The chuckle he heard from behind him told him that she wasn't annoyed, though.

Through the gloom of the weather, he saw more flashes, and thrusters engaging, all followed by loud booms as the two angled in the air, trying to get a lock on the other.

“That’s pretty fancy flying,” Sam admitted.

“Yeah.”

“I saw them at the expo,” Peter said, his eyes never leaving the two flyers – and having no trouble keeping track of them. “It was really exciting. And scary.”

“You were there?” Natasha asked, remembering easily just how much debris, glass and metal had been scattered that evening.

“Yeah. I almost got killed, but Ironman saved me. Blew a drone up right in front of me.”

He sounded so excited about it that Romanoff rolled her eyes, making Clint smile. He was a little kid; they were supposed to be dumb like that.

“Was that before or after the trip to the lab?”

“Before.”

Peter whooped again when Ironman did a flyby, followed by War Machine who was holding his hands out towards Tony, ‘shooting’ at him.

“Pew! Pew! Pew!” Peter yelled, jumping up and down. “Go get him!”

><><><><><> 

It was a full half an hour before they were done, and Peter had watched every moment of it with tense excitement, forcing an overprotective Natasha Romanoff to keep a tight hold of the back of his jacket. Then, to make it even better, both Ironman and War Machine swooped in, checked the clearing and landed on the roof next to them.

The helmets detatched, and both men smiled down at Peter who looked up at them.

“What did you think?” Rhodes asked.

“It was great,” Peter told them, hugging himself, tightly. “Who won?”

“Me, of course.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, Peter,” he said. “We have to check the data, first. Then it’ll probably be me that won.”

“Wow.”

Greatly daring, Peter reached out and touched the Ironman suit.

Tony smiled, but then realized that the boy and the others (and he and Rhodes) were all out in the weather, now, and he didn’t want Peter getting any wetter than he already was.

“Go inside,” he said, pulling Peter’s hood back up over his head with one metal encased hand. “We’ll meet you guys at the briefing room so you can see the telemetry data.”

><><><><><> 

“Why are you making him sit through the telemetry stuff?” Rhodes asked as he and Tony moved through the compound corridors, clanking as they walked since both were still in their suits. “It’s not even close to being as interesting as the live version.”

“I want him to get the full experience,” was the reply. “Besides, I don’t know if he’s going to find it interesting, or not. He’s a funny little guy, and gets excited by things that others might not find so fascinating.”

“Not the menace you initially thought he was?”

“He’s eight,” Tony reminded him. “He still has plenty of time to prove me right.” Then he smiled, proving to his friend that he didn’t really mean it. “But he’s cute.”

“And you like him.”

“I don’t dislike him.”

Rhodes rolled his eyes.

“It’s really that hard to say?”

“For me?” Tony shrugged, but the action was lost in the suit that he was wearing. “You know it is. I’m not made for anything serious.”

“People change.”

The billionaire shook his head, almost regretfully.

“Not me.”

><><><><>< 

“Are you cold?” Natasha asked Peter as they came off the roof and down a side staircase.

“No.” He grinned up at all of them, walking backwards, so he could see them as they walked. “Did you see that? Ironman was all “swoosh!” and the War Machine came up and was all “Bam! Bam! Bam!” and then Tony shot up into the air in front of him and turned around and he flew by and boom! he was behind him, then.”

“That’s exactly what I saw,” Sam agreed. “They’re good. Not as good as me, because I’m not in a bulky suit, but they’re pretty good.”

Peter laughed at that, turning and tripping over his own feet, but catching himself against a wall even as all of them reached to catch him.

“What happens with the telemetry data?” he asked, curiously. “I know the words, but not the context.”

“We get to see things from their point of view,” Natasha told him, reaching out to offer him a hand, deciding that it would be the best way to keep him from bouncing himself right out of the hallway. “And see where they were aiming.”

“And,” Steve added. “If they were actually shooting at each other, you’ll be able to see where it would hit.”

Peter hesitated.

“It’s not gross, though, right?”

“It’s not real bullets,” Steve assured him, understanding the question. “They’ll just show as lights on the screen. You’ll see.”

><><><><<>> 

Peter watched the entire dogfight telemetry twice. The first time the others watched it with him, but when he asked Tony if he could watch it again – all thirty-eight minutes of it – Tony said yes and Avengers started pulling out phones, and tablets and other alternate things of interest. Tony didn’t, though, remembering what Peter had mentioned the evening before about starting a movie with him and then wandering off. While Peter watched the display, though, Tony watched him, catching the times when the little body tensed more than other times, and realizing it was when he could hear JARVIS making reports to him.

“So, JARVIS controls your suit, pretty much?” the boy finally asked, when it was over.

“He controls the systems and helps me process all of the data coming at me,” Tony confirmed.

“That’s a lot of data, though,” Peter pointed out, looking at the screen and all of the items in the HUD. “That’s amazing.”

“Because I am an amazing guy,” Tony replied, making Romanoff roll her eyes and Rhodes put his face into his palm, shaking his head.

Peter nodded, though.

“It takes a lot of focus.”

“Yes, it does.”

The boy smiled.

“Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, and I want you to eat before I take you home.”

Peter’s smile faltered, but he nodded.

“Okay.”

“But I’m going to see you tomorrow,” Tony reminded him. “Right after school. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Come on Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, scooping the boy up and hanging him upside down, because he already knew Peter liked that kind of play. “Let’s go see what they’re making, and save everyone a spot.”

Peter laughed, distracted, and nodded.

“Okay.”

Still holding him by an ankle, upside down, Rhodes left, with Sam walking with them, reminding Peter – again – that it took a lot of hand/eye coordination to fly the Falcon suit, too.

“Do you have to take him back?” Romanoff asked. “It’s raining pretty hard. Maybe we could keep him another day. We could point out that your car isn’t really designed for driving in a storm and it was safer to keep him here.”

“He has school tomorrow, guys,” Tony said. “And you guys are doing whatever Avenger things you have scheduled, and I have Monday meetings – probably all day…”

“And you love the thought of rushing home to make those meetings?” Natasha asked, sarcastically.

“We can’t keep him, guys. I know he’s cute, and all, but he isn’t ours.”

Romanoff shrugged, not arguing – although she didn’t even look convinced about that.

“I’m not talking about keeping him,” she said. “But something is going on with your little friend, and we haven’t had a chance to get to the bottom of it. Now that he’s more comfortable with us, maybe we can use tonight and tomorrow to figure it out.”

“Besides, it really is raining, hard,” Clint added. “Better safe than sorry – especially the way you drive.”

“What’s going on with Peter?” Tony asked, ignoring that last comment. “Did he tell you?”

“He did,” she confirmed. “But only after we promised to keep it to ourselves.”

Stark frowned.

“I should know what-“

“However,” Natasha said before he could complain. “We have some interesting security footage from earlier.” She pulled up a video from the corridor that led outside, and a moment later he saw Peter running down the hall on his little legs, crashing into the door and going through without stopping. “He broke the door.”

“He hit it pretty hard,” Stark pointed out.

“You know force and mass and resistance better than we do,” Clint said. “But he doesn’t weigh that much, and it’s a pretty sturdy door. It’d take more momentum than he had built up to do the damage that he did.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing,” Natasha said. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything. But I want to keep him another night and run some tests with him.”

“You can’t experiment on him.”

“With him,” she reiterated. “And nothing crazy. We’re not going to draw blood, or anything. Just manual tests.”

“And you can watch on video,” Clint added. “And maybe get an idea of what’s going on, too.”

Tony frowned, again, but this time it wasn't annoyed. He looked at Steve.

“Do you know what this is all about?”

“No.” He looked at the others. “But I did see the door, and it’s wrecked. I noticed your workroom door was damaged, as well.”

“He couldn’t have done that, though,” Tony replied. “That one is reinforced.”

“One of the things we want to look into,” Romanoff said, mysteriously.

The billionaire scowled again. He hated secrets. Hated the idea that they knew something that he didn’t, but this time understood that he’d had his chance for Peter to tell him what was going on and had blown it.

“Fine. I’ll call and ask if we can keep him another night.”

“Good.”

“But only because I don’t feel like driving in the rain.”

“Whatever you say.”

Chapter Text

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. It’s going well. I don’t know what you guys are looking at down south, but we’ve got some weather, here, and I was wondering if you’d be alright with me keeping him another night? I don’t want to drive in the rain if I can avoid the risk of having a tree come down at a bad time.”

“Peter’s okay with that?”

“I haven’t asked him, yet,” Tony admitted. “In case you said no, I didn’t want him to be disappointed.”

There was a slight pause, and a muffled conversation – as if the man had put his hand over the receiver and was talking to someone. Which was confirmed a moment later when Eric came back on the phone.

“Is he going to miss school?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll call and let them know. It won’t hurt him to miss a day or two, really. As long as he’s not going to be in your way.”

“No, he’s great.”

“Let me know if you need me to come out and get him, or something. Otherwise we’ll expect you sometime tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow evening,” Tony confirmed. “I’ll call you, first, to avoid inconveniencing you.”

><><><><>><><> 

Peter was sitting on the books on the chair, talking to Sam and Rhodes when Tony walked into the lounge with Steve and Natasha. The little boy was holding a carrot that someone had obviously mooched from the kitchen for him, and he smiled at the newcomers when they walked over to the table.

“Where did you get that?” Tony asked him, shaking his head when the boy offered him a bite.

“Sam got it for me.”

“Don’t spoil your dinner.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“It’s a carrot, Tony.” The man had a lot to learn about kids and nutrition, obviously. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“We saved you a spot,” Peter told him, pointing at a chair beside him.

“Thanks.” He settled into it, looking at the boy. “What would you think about maybe staying over another night, here?”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s raining pretty hard, and we were thinking that maybe we could use that as an excuse to keep you another day. If you want to, that is?”

“Eric said it’s okay?”

“Yup. Interested?”

“Yeah. Wow.”

Tony wasn't the only one to smile at the awe in Peter’s voice.

“Good.”

“Clint and I are going to steal you after dinner, though,” Natasha told him. “Tony has to call and let everyone know that he’s not going to work, tomorrow, so you’ll hang out with us. Yeah?”

“Okay.” The boy looked at Tony. “I have school, tomorrow.”

“Eric said it’s alright if you miss a day. He’s going to call and let them know.”

“Wow.”

Clint grinned.

“You say that a lot.”

That made Peter blush, but Tony was pleased when the boy’s arms wrapped around himself, carrot and all, and he hugged himself, excitedly. He reached out and tousled Peter’s curls.

“I’m going to go see what’s for dinner. Keep these guys out of trouble for me.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><<> 

Rhodes had to leave when they were done eating dinner. He had several errands that he needed to run the next day, rain or not, and he had a meeting that he couldn’t miss. He said goodbye to Peter, hugging the little boy, affectionately, and promised to see him, again, even if it meant that he’d have to kidnap him from Tony. Peter had smiled, looking so pleased that it had made the others smile, too.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony told Rhodes. He looked at the little boy. “You’re going to hang out with Natasha for a while, alright? I need to go make my phone calls.”

“Okay.”

Stark looked at Romanoff.

“If you need anything, call me.”

“We’re going to the gym,” she told the billionaire.

Tony did walk out with Rhodes, thanking him for the help with distracting Peter, and promising that he’d see him sometime in the next week or two. Then he went to his workroom, but he didn’t even slow down when he entered, closing – and locking – the door behind him. Luckily, it hadn’t taken long for maintenance to repair it.

“JARVIS, pull up the live feed for the gym.”

“You’re spying on Peter?”

“Yup. Since no one will tell me what’s going on with him, I need to figure it out on my own.”

There wasn't a reply, other than the closest display coming on. Tony settled on the stool that he normally used when he was tinkering, and watched with interest as Natasha walked into the gym with Peter, Sam and Clint all following.

><><><><> 

What are we doing in here?” Peter asked, curiously, looking around.

“We’re going to experiment,” Natasha said, looking at Peter when they’d reached the free weight section that many of the young SHIELD agents used to build themselves up. “If you’re alright with that?”

“Oh.” His eyes lit up, hopefully. “Yes. Of course.”

“Lift this weight, Peter,” Sam said, gesturing to a dumbbell.

The boy did as he was told, effortlessly. It wasn't very heavy, though.

“And this one…”

Peter went down the entire rack, lifting each weight as it was pointed out to him. The five pound one was no big deal, but Sam knew the ones on the end were a full 50 lbs. He watched Steve use them; he should know.

“Can you lift one in each arm…?” Clint asked, awed, but not making a big deal out of it, to avoid making Peter nervous.

He demonstrated that it wasn't a problem, and even lifted them above his head in an impressive display of strength in a little body that certainly shouldn’t have that kind of power.

“Wow.”

Natasha smirked at Clint.

“He's right about being strong.”

“Yeah.” Clint shook his head. “What else, Peter?” he asked, smiling at the boy, and looking for any sign of strain, but there wasn't any.

“What do you mean?”

“Can you do anything else? Super speed? Flying? Close your eyes and concentrate really hard and see if you can teleport my bow to me.”

Peter smiled, and shook his head.

“I can’t do any of those things,” he assured them. “I mean, I’ve jumped into the air and came down, so I can’t fly, and I’m pretty slow…” he was limited by his short legs and small stride, obviously. “And it’s telekinesis, or psychokinesis, not teleporting that brings things to you.”

Clint rolled his eyes when the others snorted their amusement and he grabbed the boy into his arms, turning him upside down, playfully.

“Nobody likes a smartass, buddy.”

Peter giggled, twisting his little body around so he could look up at the adults.

“One time Kyle threw a sock at my head and I caught it. He called me freaky fast.”

“We’ll have to try that,” Natasha said, as Clint turned Peter upright, once more, and set him on his feet.

“With baseballs?” Sam asked, winking at Peter.

“We’ll figure something out.” She poked Peter. “You’re an amazing little guy. You know that?”

He looked up at her, eyes shining with happiness. And with relief. Someone else knew what he could do, and had seen it. He knew they had other things to do, of course, but he was excited that they might be willing to help him learn what he could do with it.

“Thanks.”

Clint picked up a basketball and tossed it to Peter.

“Let’s play some ball,” he suggested.

The boy was a bundle of energy, and Tony would probably appreciate it if they wore him down a little before bedtime.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

“That’s incredible…”

“Natasha Romanoff is correct, sir,” JARVIS said. “He’s an amazing little guy.”

Tony had watched Peter work his way up the line of dumbbells in disbelief, each being picked up, easily, by the little boy. Now they were simply playing with the basketball; Sam and Peter playing keep away from Natasha and Clint, and the little boy running around full bore, but proving that he definitely didn’t have super speed.

He was pretty agile, though.

“Yes, he is. Did he tell you about being so strong?”

“Yes.”

“What could possibly have done that to him?” Stark asked his AI. “I mean, genetics? Radiation? What kind? How did it make him strong, but not simply kill him?”

“I have been running scenarios since he told me of it,” JARVIS told him. “But Peter doesn’t know the type of radiation used, and I wasn't able to locate any experiments using anything but low-level types of microwave radiation at the lab he visited with his class. If it was another kind of experiment, then it wasn't in their records, and it certainly wasn't approved by their charter.”

“Huh. So it happened in a lab?”

Tony had simply been throwing ideas out, as he usually did when trying to solve a puzzle.

There was a slight hesitation, as if the AI realized that it had given away more than intended.

“Correct. During a school field trip.”

“And Pepper wonders why I don’t like field trips…” Tony frowned. “What lab?”

“Osborn International.”

Stark knew the name well.

“So it could be anything, really… they do a shit ton of research on a lot of secretive things.”

“Correct. But none of their security protocols can keep me out. Whatever they were working on when Peter was there is off the grid.”

 Tony watched as Peter overran his own feet and stumbled as he chased Clint to try and get the ball back that the archer had just stolen. He smiled at the grin on the boy’s face.

“Maybe I’ll talk to Bruce. He gets strong…”

“And turns green. Peter doesn’t.”

“Well, yeah. But it’ll be a start.” He shrugged. “The why isn’t nearly as important as the what, I suppose.”

But he hated not knowing why something happened.

“I will continue to look into the possibilities.”

“You do that.”

Tony was suddenly restless, because he’d learned something new and astounding about Peter, and he thought that he’d already known everything he needed to know about the boy. He wanted to go to the gym and confront him. Wanted to ask him a million questions about how this had happened. He knew that he couldn’t, though. Not the question part, anyway. It was his fault that Peter hadn’t told him what he’d told Natasha and the others, and now he was going to have to figure out a way to regain the trust that he’d lost when he’d yelled at the boy. Barging into the gym and demanding information wasn't going to work. He looked at the screen, again, and smiled when saw that they were playing some kind of tag, now, and the sound of Peter’s laughter was echoing through the large room.

“Call Pepper Potts,” he said, still smiling.

He had to make a couple of calls, but then he thought – maybe – he’d wander down to the gym and watch them. Or maybe play, too. Who knew?

><><><>>>< 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

Tony frowned, reaching a hand out and brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. The little boy was sitting in the lounge on the couch, reading one of the books that he’d pulled from the shelf. Steve hadn’t been annoyed with him, when he’d found him there the day before, so Peter assumed that it would be alright for him to return, when he’d woken from a bad dream and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep.

“Feeling okay?” Tony asked, suddenly worried that the soaking he’d taken the morning before had made him sick, or something.

Maybe the doctor had missed something? What if his lip was infected, and it was making him sick? Common sense told him that he was being ridiculous, but he was responsible for the little guy, just then, and he wanted to make sure he was doing right by him.

Peter’s own response dispelled those concerns.

“Yes. Just not tired.”

He didn’t have a fever, Tony decided, and the bruise on his chin looked much less serious hours from the worry that he’d felt when it had happened. Even his lip didn’t seem so badly cut when Tony pulled it back to take a peek.

“You looked pretty tired, earlier.”

Stark had joined them in the gym and even though he didn’t run around much, Peter had. He’d chased Clint, and Sam – and even Natasha, trying to get the ball and make baskets. By the time Peter’s normal bedtime came, the Avengers had worn the little boy out. They’d stopped in the lounge to have a before bedtime snack – nothing with sugar to avoid making him bounce off the walls – and then it had been Tony who had put him to bed, with the promise of pancakes for breakfast the next morning.

Only JARVIS had woken the billionaire sometime around two am, advising him that Peter was moving around the corridors, and had ended up in the lounge. Still concerned about aftermaths of the soaking he’d taken, and wanting to keep him out of the way – especially in a super secure facility such as the compound – Tony had rolled out of his bed, immediately.

Dressed in the sweats and long-sleeved shirt he’d gone to bed in, Tony had simply slid his feet into slippers and gone to make sure he was alright, and to put him back to bed.

“I was, then,” Peter told him. “Just not, now.”

“Do you often have trouble sleeping?”

Peter nodded.

“Sometimes. Eric lets me stay up, as long as I don’t short myself, he says. Usually I read, or work on school stuff.” He hesitated. “Or talk to JARVIS.”

Tony nodded.

“He’s good company.”

“Yeah.” Peter held up the book he’d been reading. “I thought I’d just stay out of the way and read.”

“Which is fine,” Stark said, reaching out and picking the child up. “But I don’t want you going home and Eric thinking we’re keeping you up all hours of the night. Bad enough he’s already going to know we let you run face-first into a tree. He’s not going to let you come back if you’re tired, grumpy and beat up, and I really want to be able to bring you back.”

Peter smiled, his expressive eyes looking surprised.

“You do?”

“Yeah. If you do, that is?”

“Wow.”

Tony’s smile was amused, and he felt his insides turn to goo as Peter put his arms around him, allowing his cheek to fall to Stark’s shoulder.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. It won’t be next weekend, but we’ll see about the weekend after that.”

“Okay.”

“But only if you go to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

They were quiet as Tony carried Peter to his little room and put him back to bed. The little arms – so much stronger than they should have been – held him until the very last minute, only letting him go when Tony had Peter settled. Those big brown eyes Tony was beginning to become so fond of watched him as the billionaire pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around him, carefully.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked the boy.

“Yes.”

Tony hesitated. Peter didn’t look at all sleepy, and it bothered him to think of the boy laying in the dark, alone.

“Want me to sit with you for a while?” he asked, uncertainly, wondering how the offer would be accepted.

Maybe he was reading things wrong and Peter was just waiting for him to leave so he could close his eyes. The boy nodded, though, looking hopeful.

“For a little while?” He asked, “Please?”

“Sure.” He shifted, moving onto the bed until he was sitting next to where Peter was, and he used one of the extra pillows to prop himself up. “I used to have trouble sleeping when I was younger,” he told Peter.

“You did?”

“Mh-mmm.” He brushed Peter’s bangs back. “Probably all really smart kids do,” he added. “Can’t get your mind to shut off enough to sleep the whole night through.”

“I have bad dreams, sometimes,” Peter admitted.

“Yeah? About what?”

“All kinds of things. People chasing me. Monsters in the dark. I used to make May mad, always wanting my light on. She said it kept her awake, even when it was in my room, because she knew I was wasting power that she had to pay for.”

“That’s rough, buddy. Does Eric let you have a night lite?”

“He would,” Peter said, turning a little so he could look up at Tony. “But it would keep the other kids awake. And that wouldn’t be fair to them.”

There were two boys in the same room as Peter, Tony knew. Ned, who was twelve and the closest to Peter’s age, and a thirteen-year-old named Chad. There were two other rooms, aside from the one for Eric and his wife, and their lone biological son, who had a room of his own.

“That’s considerate of you.”

Peter smiled, sleepily.

“If they don’t sleep they would be grumpy. So it’s kind of self-defense, too.”

“Have any of them ever tried to hurt you?”

Peter shook his head.

“Not physically. Eric doesn’t allow that. They bully me, sometimes – because I’m littlest.”

“And smarter than them?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to get a lot of shit for being smarter than all of the kids around me, too,” Tony assured him, settling in a little more comfortably. “It isn’t easy, is it?”

“No.” The little boy snuggled himself against Tony’s side, almost automatically, as if he realized that Tony was willing to cuddle. “Steve wouldn’t like you saying shit, you know… He’d say you’re corrupting me.”

“Don’t tell him, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony rubbed Peter’s back, absently, and changed the subject to some of the easier points of the test that the boy had passed, wanting him back in his comfort zone, but not thinking so hard that it would keep him awake.

Eventually Peter drifted off back to sleep, and Tony smiled, detaching himself carefully, before covering him back up and heading back to his own room.

Putting a little kid to bed wasn't something that he was used to doing, but he thought that he’d done alright for a beginner.

“JARVIS? Let me know if Peter wakes up, again.”

“Very well, sir.”

He went back to bed, too.

Chapter Text

“I had fun. Thank you.”

Tony smiled as he watched the most dangerous woman in the world (maybe even the universe?) try not to cry. Romanoff leaned over and hugged Peter, hard, picking him up and pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Not as much fun as I did,” she assured him. “We’re not done, yet, either,” she reminded him, softly. “Still gotta figure out what makes you tick, right?”

The little boy hugged her back.

“Yeah.”

He was put onto his feet, and smiled at Steve, Sam, and Clint, again. He’d already said all his goodbyes, and his backpack was stuffed full of Avengers clothing and swag for himself, while he also had another bag that had been filled with SHIELD and Captain America sweatshirts for the other boys in the home, as well as a coffee cup for Eric’s wife and a keychain for Ned. He didn’t know that the other kids were going to be happy to see him after an entire weekend of not having to put up with hearing how much smarter he was than them, but they’d definitely like the swag.

“Tony will bring you out here, again, soon,” Steve told Peter. “If he knows what’s good for him.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but it was all good-natured. He knew they would want to see Peter, again, and he’d had a good time, as well, so wasn't completely against the idea of another trip out. It’d have to be for a weekend, though, since the drive to the compound was too long to just make an afternoon of it.

“Of course we’ll be back,” he assured the boy – and the avengers. “We’d stay longer, but they have to save the world, and I have to make money – and you can’t miss any more school than you already have.”

Peter smiled at that.

He’d had a lot of fun. Aside from the terrible time with Tony when he’d met JARVIS, officially, the rest of the weekend had been better than anything he could ever remember. Certainly better than anything in recent times. He’d been the center of attention, and even though he knew it was wrong to wallow in it, he really had done just that and enjoyed every moment.

Even more, Natasha, Clint and Sam all knew his secret, now.

More than just the strength thing, too, apparently, because when he’d gone to breakfast with Tony that very morning, Clint had commented on his busted lip looking much better than it had the day before. Tony had examined his face, carefully, even having him open his mouth so he could check the inside part that he’d cut with his teeth, but it hadn’t hurt, and when he chanced a look in a mirror, he saw that the bruise that had been so dark the night before when he’d brushed his teeth had faded to yellowish purple already.

“Maybe you weren’t hurt as bad as the doctor thought…” Tony had said, speculatively. “That’s good, though.” He’d smiled and tousled Peter’s hair – something that Peter couldn’t remember people doing to him, before – but it was something that he was coming to like, too. “Now Eric won’t beat me up for letting you get hurt.”

The look on Romanoff’s face said that she suspected more was going on than it not being as bad as they’d thought. She’d seen it when Peter had hurt himself, and she knew it had been serious.

He was still smiling when he buckled himself into the passenger seat of the car, and he waved at the others, who were still hanging out to see him off, as if they didn’t have a lot of more important things to do that afternoon.

“Thanks for bringing me, Tony,” he said, as Stark started the car and honked the horn at the others before he drove them away from the compound. “It was great.”

“It was,” the billionaire agreed. “I’m glad you had fun.”

The boy smiled at that, and then turned his head to watch the scenery go by. He hadn’t been out in the country before, and the trees and open land going by was almost as much of a novelty as having spent the weekend with superheroes.

“I wish I could do it every week,” he said, softly, and Tony wasn't sure if he’d meant to say it aloud or not, so he wasn't sure if he was supposed to reply.

“We’ll find something to do, next weekend,” Tony promised him. “It’s almost Halloween… maybe we’ll go to a pumpkin patch or something.”

“That’d be fun.”

“Good.” Tony reached out and tousled those curls, again. “I got you a present.”

“You did?”

“Yup. Can you reach behind my seat? There’s a green bag.”

Peter craned his head and saw what Tony was talking about, and twisted a little so he could get hold of the handle. It was bright, with a ribbon at the top, but nothing to indicate what was in it.

“What is it?”

“Open it up and see.”

The boy did as he was told, and pulled out a small tablet. An expensive one that was enveloped in a fine cover that zipped around it to protect it when it wasn't in use.

“Wow. This is for me?”

“Yeah. It’s set up for data, on my personal satellite network. That way you don’t have to worry if anyone is using the computer, and you want to use it.”

“Thanks…” Peter was examining it. “This is great.”

Tony smiled, pleased at the response to the gift. And pleased that he’d thought of it.

“You can also use it to talk to JARVIS,” he added, making Peter look over at him, surprised.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. I think it’s great that you give JARVIS someone to talk to when I can’t be around to spend time with him.” He knew, really, that it was the other way around, of course, but he couldn’t say that. He hesitated, though, watching the road. “If you wanted, though,” he added. “You could talk to me, too. If it’s late and you’re awake. Or if you had a bad dream and you need someone to talk to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How do I know if you’re awake?”

“You ask JARVIS, of course.”

“Oh.” Duh. Peter looked at the tablet, and smiled, but also felt his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you, Tony.”

“You're welcome, buddy.”

><><><><> 

“Really Tony?”

“What?”

“A Halloween party?”

“We’ve had Halloween parties, before, Pepper.”

“Not with a bunch of little kids.”

“It’ll be great. All the people that work here can bring their kids, have games, and a costume contest, or something, and stuff them full of sugar until they puke. It’ll be good for my public image, right? And good for morale.”

She raised an eyebrow, not at all convinced that he was concerned about his public image.

“Are you planning on inviting Peter?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Huh.”

Tony ignored the look she gave him.

“Don’t read anything into it, Pep. I just thought it’d be a fun thing.”

“I’m sure he’ll have a great time.”

“Yeah. Set it up, will you?”

He couldn’t wait to see Peter’s reaction. Maybe he’d take him out to pick out a costume, even.

Peter had been increasingly present the last couple of weeks. Both at the tower, where he arrived after school and hung out, working on homework, but also sometimes just sitting in one of the leather chairs near Tony’s desk, watching him work, or talking to him about what he’d done at school that day, and also on outings away from the tower, and the foster home. Nothing overnight, like they’d done at the compound, but Tony had taken him on a couple of day trips to different locations in the city that were entertaining and fun for both of them. An arcade, where they’d spent an afternoon playing every videogame the place had to offer. There had also been a trip to a pumpkin patch, where Peter had excitedly grabbed Tony’s hand and dragged him all over the little farm, stopping to oooo and awwww over the smallest of things.

Stark had had a good time, he had to admit – privately – but Peter had worn him out that day. They’d picked out pumpkins, they’d gotten themselves lost in the corn maze for almost an hour, had gone on a hayride which had culminated in Peter being allowed to feed the huge horse pulling the wagon a couple of carrots. The boy had fallen asleep on the way home, and Tony had handed the sleeping form over to Eric with a wry grin, and had then gone back to his apartment and fallen asleep, almost immediately, rather than spend his evening working on his newest suit design.

Most nights would find the boy talking to JARVIS, and on occasion to Tony, who was pleased that he’d set up the tablet that he’d given Peter to have video function so they could actually talk to each other, although Peter seemed to be reluctant to keep Tony awake, just because he couldn’t sleep. Little did he know just how little Tony actually slept most nights, or he wouldn’t have felt guilty at all.

Usually their conversations were nothing too extraordinary; what Peter was scheduled for in school the next day. What Tony was scheduled for at the tower, and every now and then both of them calling Natasha, or Steve, or one of the others, just to wake them up and say hello.

It was pleasant, and Tony looked forward to the end of his workday so he could see that cheerful little guy walking into his office.

Pepper rolled her eyes, but she didn’t complain. Of course, Tony knew that she was fond of Peter, too, and also thoroughly enjoyed the fact that Stark’s public image was going up, steadily. Not because the people saw him with the boy; more often than not when they went out, Tony wasn't recognized for who he was, and Peter tended to garner more attention because of those big brown eyes of his. No, having the boy around him made Tony feel less and less inclined to be a spectacle. Or to go to parties and pick up some floozie for the evening. Why would he want someone in his bed when Peter called to see if he was busy?

He certainly didn’t want JARVIS telling Peter that Tony couldn’t talk because he was entertaining some stranger.

“I’ll take care of it.,” Pepper told him.

Tony smiled.

“Thanks.”

Chapter Text

The party was winding down when Eric came to collect Peter. Tony was surprised to see the big man, though, because the plan had been for him to call Eric, first, and see if everyone was home, yet. The other kids had been invited to the same party that Peter had gone to, but had declined when they were told that it was going to last during prime trick-or-treating hours. Instead, they’d separated and gone to a few different events, depending on their age and interests.

“Eric. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Coffee if you have it, thanks.”

He was scanning the room, automatically looking for Peter, who was easy to spot, even in costume. He was the smallest person there, after all. The little boy was hanging out with Steve, Sam, Natasha and Rhodes. The Avengers were dressed as the main characters from the Wizard of Oz, although Dorothy hadn’t looked nearly as sexy on the big screen as Natasha Romanoff was looking.

“Everything alright?” Tony asked, noticing that he looked troubled, even as he took the coffee he was offered.

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose.”

“Oh?”

“The state is moving Peter.”

“What? Why? And where?”

“My place was just supposed to be temporary,” Tatro explained. “Until they could find a place where he could be with kids closer to his own age, or – even rarer – a place where he’s the only child, to give him the special attention a kid as bright as he is needs. I never made the push for him to be moved, because I really like him, but his social worker doesn’t want him with kids who are so much older – in case he gets hurt from them being much rowdier than him.” He looked over. “I got a call this morning that they’re placing him in a home where he’ll be the only child, and the woman who lives there is a retired teacher, so the social worker thinks it’s a perfect fit for a budding genius.”

Tony couldn’t help the moment of panic that he felt – and the sudden concern that this wasn't a good thing, no matter how they looked at it.

“Where is it?”

“In the city, still,” Eric said. “Closer to his school. Further from your tower, though.”

“The social worker won’t stop him from coming to my office after work, will he?”

The big man looked troubled.

“I don’t know, Tony. It’ll be up to the foster parent. I think you’re good for Peter. I’ll make a recommendation, of course, that she continues the mentoring, but I don’t have any clout, and the social worker won’t want to go against what the foster parent wants – to avoid making waves.”

“Does Peter know?”

“No. Not yet. I wanted to make sure it was final before I mentioned it to him. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Do you want me to?”

Eric shook his head.

“No. It’s not the first time I’ve had to have this conversation, Lord knows it isn’t going to be the last. I know how to break it to him.”

“If there’s anything I can do…

“I’ll let you know.”

“When are they moving him?”

“Wednesday.”

Ugh.

><><><><><><> 

It was a very subdued little boy who walked into Tony’s office the next afternoon.

The billionaire noticed, immediately, that the ever-present backpack was stuffed full, and his heart ached for the little guy who was literally carrying his most precious possessions with him for fear of losing them, otherwise.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, Tony.”

The boy went to his desk and sat down, opening his backpack to get his schoolwork. Stark noticed that the first thing Peter had to move out of the bag was the stuffed bear that he’d won him on their first excursion out alone.

He felt his eyes sting.

“You okay?”

Peter wouldn’t look at him. He pulled out his papers, and nodded, but Tony heard a soft sniff, and was sure that he saw a tear drop off the boy’s cheek.

“They’re moving me from Eric’s.”

“I heard.” Tony walked over and brushed his fingers through those fine curls. “It might be for the best, though, Eric says. You’ll be the only kid there, and won’t have to share the attention. More hugs for you.”

“It’s going to be bad,” Peter told him, his voice breaking on the last word. “I know it.”

Tony reached down and picked him up, and Peter put his arms around the man, burying his face in his neck. The next sob escaped with very little effort.

“Shhh…” Tony crooned, trying to comfort when there was little he could offer.

He’d told Pepper what was going on when he’d arrived at the tower the next morning, and had asked her to see what the options were. Her response less than an hour later had been regretful, but succinct. The foster care system could move the kids whenever the social workers thought it was in their best interest, and she’d personally spoken to the social worker – despite the woman being on the road to an appointment.

Peter was a little guy, and a budding genius, and she didn’t want to risk him in a house filled with older boys who could possibly hurt him. He was being placed with a carefully screened foster parent who had a lot of money and a large house – even with a yard for the little boy, and a play area he’d have all to himself. It was a good placing, she said, and she promised to mention just how good it was for Peter to go to Tony’s after school every day.

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“Can’t a judge make them keep Peter where he is?”

She’d raised an eyebrow at that, and then her expression had softened.

“Keep him in a crowded home to avoid sending him to one that seems ideal? It won’t happen.”

“It’s not fair to him,” Tony said, scowling. “Moving him around? He was just getting stable.”

“I know.”

So he held Peter. Schoolwork forgotten, he walked over to the couch and sat down with the boy still in his arms, head tucked under his chin. Peter wasn't sobbing, not like he had when Tony had yelled at him back at the compound, but he was definitely not happy, and tears were leaking down his cheek to smear Tony’s neck and soak the shoulder of his expensive suit.

“I’ll miss you, Tony,” Peter told him, woefully, his voice muffled.

“You haven’t lost me, buddy,” Stark promised. “You’ll see. It’ll be okay.”

“It’ll never be okay.”

“I’ll talk to the woman at the home, myself,” Tony told him. “So she understands just how amazing you are, and how much I want you to come see me after school. She’ll agree.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“She will.”

><><><><><><> 

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no, Mr. Stark. I don’t intend to allow Peter to visit you after school. Not tomorrow, when he officially moves into my home, or any other day.”

Tony frowned at the instant denial. Annoyed and really surprised. He hadn’t even done anything to piss her off, having had JARVIS find out who was taking over Peter’s care and then calling her and politely asking if he could come by and speak with her.

The house he was standing in was a pretty nice one, considering she was a retired teacher, and the woman herself was around his own age, graying and thin, with a stern expression as she regarded him, coldly.

“But why not?”

“Because I know who you are, Mr. Stark,” she told him. “And I know your reputation. I don’t believe you’re a good role model for a small child like Peter, and I don’t intend to expose him to you or your avenger companions any longer.”

“To the avengers…?” Tony asked, incredulously. “You think Captain America is a bad example for a little kid?”

“He’s a known killer.”

“He killed bad people.”

“It still isn’t an element that Peter needs to deal with, and I won’t make him.”

“You don’t have to make him,” Tony snapped, turning angry almost immediately and unable to hide it. “He wants to come see me.”

She wasn't impressed.

“He’s eight. That means he doesn’t get a say in the matter.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. I have to go pick him up, now, so if you’ll excuse me…”

He bit back what he really wanted to say, knowing that making her mad wouldn’t do any good – and it might make things even harder on Peter. Instead, cursing under his breath, he left, and stewed angrily the entire way back to his office.

“JARVIS…” he scowled as he walked over to his desk and sat down, but he felt a pang of sorrow at the sight of the other desk sitting empty. “Run a check on Peter’s new foster mother. I want to know everything about her, and I want to know what she has against the Avengers – and me, in particular.”

“Yes, sir.”

He couldn’t sit still while he waited, though. He was far too angry. Instead, he got to his feet.

“I’ll be in Pepper’s office.”

The billionaire didn’t have to walk far to get there, and he gave a perfunctory knock on the door before storming in. She was sitting at her desk, and she looked up as he walked over and threw himself into the chair across from her.

“It didn’t go well?”

Stark scowled.

“That’s an understatement.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What did she say?”

“That Peter needs better role models than me and the Avengers.”

“Seriously?” She frowned, clearly surprised. “I get that she might not find you to be the most reliable example, but the Avengers?”

“Yes.”

“That’s odd. Did she say why?”

“She doesn’t approve of us. Me, in particular, but she doesn’t even like Rogers. Everyone likes Rogers.”

“Yes, they do.”

“What do we do? Can I kidnap him?”

Her expression was sympathetic.

“And then what? You’d have to return him.”

He huffed.

“I have JARVIS checking her out. Maybe he’ll dig up some dirt on her, I can turn her in and Peter can go back to the Tatro’s.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Pepper told him. “They usually do a pretty thorough check on the people they allow to be foster parents.”

“It’s all I’ve got,” he said. “For now.”

Chapter Text

“Wait? What?”

Tony looked at Steve, his expression a mixture of angry and helpless.

“They took Peter from the Tatro’s and put him in a new home.”

“A group home?”

“No. He’s the only one there – for his own good, according to the social worker. He can have more attention that way.”

“That’s terrible.”

Tony scowled.

“Oh, it gets better,” he told the other man. “I had JARVIS check her out. She’s a retired teacher living in a swanky neighborhood.”

“Teachers don’t make that much,” Natasha said. “How is she managing that?”

“She has a wealthy uncle that died, recently, and she was in the will. Probably why she retired.”

“I don’t see how this is a bad thing,” Rhodes admitted. “She’s a retired teacher, so she’ll understand why Peter’s education is so important, and he’ll be the only kid in the place. Sounds like a good placing for him.”

“Only the woman has already informed me that she isn’t going to allow Peter to see me after school, anymore. And,” he added. “She doesn’t care for the avengers as a role model for a little boy, and won’t allow him out to see the rest of you, either.”

“Bullshit,” Sam said, scowling. “Who does she think she is? Telling us that we can’t see-“

“The state says that it’s up to her,” Tony interrupted. “Pepper looked into it.”

Romanoff frowned.

“What else?” she asked Tony, knowing that he knew something, still, that he hadn’t told them. Basically the other shoe, so to speak. “She has to have a reason.”

“She’s distantly related to Justin Hammer, who – as you all know – is currently in a state of disgrace. She almost certainly blames me – and Rhodey, here.”

“And – vicariously – the rest of us,” Steve said.

“That would be my assumption,” Stark agreed.

“That isn’t acceptable,” Natasha said. “We’re supposed to be doing Thanksgiving with him.”

Tony nodded.

“I know. But there’s nothing I can say or do about it. The foster homes aren’t autonomous, but they have a lot of say in the lives of the children placed with them. I don’t know if she’s just taking it out on Peter that she doesn’t like us, or if it’s that she really thinks it’s in his best interest to keep him away, but either way, I’m not sure what to do. He might even like it, there. I don’t know.”

“You haven’t talked to him?”

“He can’t come to my office after work, and obviously, I can’t stalk him at his school.” He frowned. “I was hoping to talk to him, overnight, using the network and the tablet that I gave him, but he hasn’t been on for three nights, now. JARVIS has been watching for him.”

Romanoff’s eyes glittered almost dangerously.

“We’re certain that he’s alright?”

“JARVIS has pulled up video of him going to school and coming home. She drives him to and from, and then – so far – he hasn’t seemed to leave the house. She doesn’t have security cameras in her home, so JARVIS can’t hack them and see what he’s up to.”

Meaning that he’d already considered that.

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“You can’t kill her,” Tony told her, quickly.

The assassin rolled her eyes.

“Her name, Tony.”

“Chelsea Marples.”

Steve looked at Romanoff.

“He’s right; you can’t kill her.”

“I’m not going to,” she assured them, not at all offended by their automatic assumptions. “But I’ll do a wellness check with Peter, and get back to you and let you know what I find out.”

><>><><><> 

It was late, and the house was dark. Including the little room on the second floor.

Peter was sitting on his bed when he heard the noise. Just the faintest of sounds, but it practically echoed in his head in the stillness around him. He looked up from the book that he’d been browsing through, and was shocked to see Natasha Romanoff’s face looking at him through the one window in his bedroom. He gasped, and saw he put her finger over her lips, silencing him before he could say anything.

The little boy set the book aside and hopped lightly out of the bed and silently crossed the floor, opening the window.

“Natasha!”

It was a stage whisper, but she shushed him, even as she carefully let herself into the bedroom through the window, moving so silently that even Peter didn’t hear anything but the faintest rustling of clothing. He watched her, impatiently, until she was finally standing in front of him, and then he threw himself into her arms with a muffled noise of happiness.

“Are you here to rescue me?” he asked, softly, as she hugged him close and pressed a kiss against his ear.

The woman pulled back, looking down at him in the very faint light given off from a streetlight a block away.

“I’m here to check on you,” she told him, studying him for any sign of abuse. “Tony’s beside himself with worry since he hasn’t heard from you – even at night – and the rest of us miss you.”

“Miss Marples won’t let me go to Tony’s after school, anymore,” Peter told her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “She says he’s a bad person, and she doesn’t want me corrupted by him – or you and the others. She took my tablet, too – and my cell phone. She says I’m too young to have a phone, and that the tablet is too expensive and I’ll just break it. She’s keeping it safe for me.”

Even whispering Natasha could hear how upset Peter was, and knew it had been rough, despite the fact that the room she was standing in was nearly appointed, with a bed, a dresser, and even a TV on the wall. He was clean, and the pajamas he was wearing looked to be new – but they weren’t the Ironman ones that Tony had been so proud of.

“What else?”

“She won’t let me stay up at night. I have to keep my light off – so I can sleep, she says.”

“You were reading.”

“I can see in the dark. But I can’t watch TV, or use the computer, or do anything.” He looked mournfully at her. “My watch is missing.”

“Your father’s watch?”

He nodded, and now the tears that had been threatening began to fall.

“I had it before the cleaning people came, but it was gone when I looked for it, later. I told Miss Marples, but she said I just lost it and should have done a better job of keeping track of my things.”

The little boy sobbed, and Natasha held him, close, comforting him for a long time.

“Hang in there, baby,” she told him. “We’re going to figure this thing out, okay…?”

He nodded, but he didn’t relax in her embrace for a long time, and it was getting very close to dawn before she finally put him to bed and snuck back out the window.

Chapter Text

The school was always bustling at the end of the day. Kids (all of them much older and bigger than Peter) were eager to get home, parents and school busses were queuing up at all entrances to collect students, and even the teachers were heading out as quickly as they could get away with it. This was especially the case on Fridays, when they were all anticipating the upcoming weekend, or – even better, for most of them – on a Wednesday like this day, when it was the start of a holiday.

Thanksgiving break was upon them, and they were all excited to have a few extra days off school.

All of them but Peter, that was.

Before, he would have been excited. Tony had told him – before he was moved from Eric’s – that they were going to celebrate Thanksgiving with the Avengers. Not at the compound, because that wasn't the place to have such a fancy meal, but at Tony’s own apartment. They hadn’t decided if there was going to be a caterer or if it was going to be a potluck style meal, with the others each bringing a dish, and Tony providing the turkey – which he’d assured Peter that he knew how to bake, although the boy had had his doubts.

Now, however, he didn’t have that to look forward to.

He’d been informed (not asked) that they were going to be going to the house of one of her relatives. He got the impression that the relative was wealthy, and some kind of business mogul, although she never actually mentioned any names. She was looking forward to taking Peter to meet him, though, she said, because the boy’s brilliance was going to impress her relatives and those who were going to be attending.

“I’m not going to have you put on a show,” she’d assured him, when she’d told him about the plan. “But I do want you to wow them with some formulas and equations, perhaps. As young as you are? You’ll amaze them all – and maybe there will be a special program that Justin can establish to make sure you have the opportunity to go to the college of your choice. ”

Peter had simply excused himself, saying that he needed to finish his schoolwork – which hadn’t exactly been the truth – and had gone back to his room and sat on the bed, hoping that maybe later Natasha might show up, again, at his window. So far, it had only been the one time the week before, but he was up, anyway, so it didn’t hurt that he stood by the window, looking out hopefully.

“Hey, kid…” a voice said, bringing him out of his reverie. “You look like you could probably use a ride.”

Peter’s head shot up, and he turned, hardly daring to believe what his ears were telling him. Sure enough, though, standing by the door, leaning against the brick wall and dressed very casually in jeans and a sweatshirt against the chill of the afternoon, Tony Stark was watching him.

“Tony!”

The billionaire smiled, and Peter ran the few steps to him, and was immediately caught up in strong arms, which lifted him, backpack and all and hugged him close.

“Hey, buddy. I sure missed the hell out of you.”

Peter held him tight, burying his face into the man’s neck and unable to speak around the lump that was suddenly choking him up. It was okay, though, because Tony was holding him, tightly, too, and Peter heard him sniff, softly. After a long moment of initial elation, Peter pulled back – but didn’t let him go.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to pick you up from school.”

His eyes were moist, but they looked happy. And smug.

“Miss Marples picks me up,” he reminded him.

“Not any longer.”

Stark shifted his grip, but didn’t put Peter down as he turned and walked away from the building. Peter saw his car parked along the curb; the sleek sportscar out of place among the minivans and sensible sedans most of the others drove.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s talk about it,” he replied. “But not here. It’s too noisy.”

“Are you kidnapping me?” Peter asked, curiously, only letting Tony go when the man opened his car door and put him on his feet so he could help him get his backpack off and put it in the back of the car. It was just as heavy as Tony remembered it being, but now he knew why Peter carried it so easily.

He buckled Peter into the front seat.

“I thought about it,” he admitted. “About a million times, the last couple of weeks.”

“You’d get in trouble.”

“You’d be worth it.” He smiled and shut the door, and then went around to get behind the wheel. “But to answer your question; no. I’m not kidnapping you.”

“Where are we going, then?” he asked. His expression grew concerned. “To Miss Marples’?”

“Nope. Hush for now, okay? I need to concentrate on traffic.”

He smiled when he said it, though, to make sure the little boy understood that he wasn't annoyed with the questions.

“Okay.”

“Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yes.”

“Have they begun to place you in those pre-college courses?”

“I thought you had to concentrate on traffic…?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“It’s small talk, buddy. I can do small talk and drive. It’s the important conversations I can’t multitask with. Answer the question; I’ve been out of the loop.”

“They’re testing me for what classes I can do at my school and if I need to go to an actual class at a regular college where there is a professor. It could take a few weeks, or they might wait to figure it out until the beginning of the year.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.” He looked out the window. “Where are we going?”

Tony had missed the turn for Miss Marples’ house, which was a relief, but had also missed the turn that would have taken them to the tower, which he’d been holding out hope for. An afternoon with Tony in his office – even if he worked on classwork – would still be better than an afternoon in his fancy new house.

“To get ice cream.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Tony reached over and tousled Peter’s hair. “Interested?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me more about what they said about your classes.”

Peter did as he was told, and was almost relieved to have Tony to talk to, again. He didn’t have to explain things to Tony, after all, like he did everyone else – even Miss Marples, who was pretty smart, herself. As he told him what the counselor and teachers had told him, he watched the buildings, trying to get an idea of where they were really going, and he was surprised when they pulled up to the front of Tony’s apartment building.

The valet saw the car coming and immediately rushed to the driver’s side, not seeing Peter until Stark had stopped the car.

“We’re having ice cream here?”

“Yup. I’ll get your backpack. Be careful.”

They were near a busy street, after all.

There wasn't any reason to be concerned, however, since another valet had hurried over to the passenger side of the car and was already opening the door for the little boy, being careful to stand between Peter and the street, and offering him a hand, immediately.

Peter took it, smiling at Tony when he was walked over to stand by the billionaire and the car was driven away.

“Wow.”

“Come on,” Stark said, and now it was his hand that Peter held as they walked into the lobby.

There was a lot of security, but no one stopped Tony or his little companion as they went to the private elevator that led only to Tony’s apartment. Peter had been to the place a couple of times, before, but it was still exciting. He knew that some of the security people were SHIELD agents, after all, and that was heady stuff for an eight year old.

The elevator opened into a small foyer that also provided access to a stairwell – in case of emergencies. Without needing to unlock the keypad, Stark opened the door and walked the boy into Tony's apartment. He set Peter’s backpack on the sofa as he let the boy’s hand go.

“Hello, Peter,” JARVIS said, the moment the elevator closed. “Welcome.”

Peter smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Ice cream?” Tony reminded him, walking across the open living room area toward the kitchen.

“Yeah.”

Peter went over to join him, and was surprised to find a new barstool at the island. It was similar to the others in that it matched them, but it also had a couple of metal spurs on the main support, and the boy found that they were perfect for allowing him to climb to his seat without needing to be picked up and put into place.

“Like it?” Tony asked, watching with a pleased expression as Peter figured out the new chair on his own.

“It’s great.”

“I got it for you.”

“Really?” That made him smile, and he couldn’t help but hug himself. “Thanks.”

Tony opened the freezer.

“Rocky Road?”

“Yeah.” He watched as Stark dished up two bowls; one with rocky road and the other with pistachio. “You’re not going to get in trouble for picking me up from school?”

“No.” Tony set a bowl in front of the boy, and retrieved a spoon. “Let me ask you something. And be honest, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You and I get along pretty well, right? I mean, I know I freaked out on you at the compound, but aside from that you know I really like you. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you say if I said that Pepper got me certified to be a foster parent in the state of New York?”

Peter hesitated, even as he was scooping a spoonful of ice cream from his bowl.

“Like Eric, you mean?” he clarified. “And Miss Marples?”

“Right.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to come live with me, and it was the only way that we could make it happen – legally – anyway.”

The spoon clattered to the floor.

“What?”

Chapter Text

That made Tony smile.

“I was thinking that if I became a foster parent, then you might be willing to come live with me. What do you think?”

“Really?”

Peter was searching his expression, carefully, as if uncertain that it wasn't some kind of trick – although he had to know Tony well enough by then to know that he’d never do something so horrible as to get his hopes up like that.

“Yeah. But unlike the other places, I wanted you to have a say in things. So I’m formally asking you if you’d like to come live here. With me.”

The boy hesitated, and Tony watched Peter’s expression as carefully as he’d been watching his own. It went from surprise, to disbelief and then to a happiness that was tinged with awe – and then, to Tony’s dismay – they filled with tears.

“You want me to stay here?”

“Yes.”

Peter pushed his bowl aside and lowered his head onto his arms and cried.

It wasn't the reaction that Tony had expected. He frowned, wondering if maybe Peter didn’t want to stay with him. Maybe he liked it at the other home, despite the report that Tony had received from Romanoff that made it seem otherwise?

“Peter…” he set his spoon down and came around to the other side of the island so he could put his hand on the little boy’s back, rubbing it, awkwardly. “Hey… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

The boy looked up, eyes red, cheeks wet and snot running from his nose.

“You really want me to move in with you?”

“Yes.”

He’d thought long and hard about it, once he’d heard from Natasha. She’d been shaken when she’d woken him, having come directly to his place from sneaking into the foster home to check on the boy, and had mentioned that maybe she would see if she could become a foster parent, and try to get custody of the boy rather than leave him where he was, when he was obviously so sad.

Or maybe Clint, since he already had a big farm and a couple of kids that Peter could play with.

As much as Tony liked Barton, and Romanoff, he hadn’t been wild about the idea. It took him almost a day of introspective scrutiny before he admitted to himself that he might not like the idea of someone else getting Peter to live with them because it was something that he was interested in doing, himself.

He liked Peter. Really liked him, too, and not just because the boy was so brilliant, and had big brown eyes that were sometimes so happy that it made Tony’s heart soar. Peter was good. And deserved good things, and that just hadn’t happened, yet. Tony was honest enough to admit that he wasn't the greatest role model out there, but he cared about the little guy, and maybe that was enough to make up for his lack of experience dealing with little kids.

The billionaire had discussed it with Pepper, of course, and had somehow convinced her that he was sincere, and wasn't crazy, and she’d done everything from there. He’d had the conversation Monday, and by Tuesday Tony was certified as a foster parent. Then Pepper had gone to a judge that she knew, and spoken with her, and a couple of city officials. Getting custody of Peter for Tony hadn’t been easy, but proving that the boy would be better off with someone who was smart enough to understand him wasn't the hardest thing Pepper had ever done, and she’d handed the emergency injunction over to Tony Wednesday morning and told him that Peter was his – at least as far as foster care was concerned.

Tony had immediately made calls to have his spare room – and the rest of the apartment – made more child friendly, and had then gone over to Marples’ house, personally, to collect anything that was still there that belonged to Peter.

He knew the really important things would be in Peter’s backpack, but there were some clothes, and he pointedly asked for the tablet, the dinosaur cell phone, and Peter’s father’s watch. The phone and tablet were easy, but Marples didn’t have the watch, and told Stark that quite frankly, she didn’t believe that someone with the cleaning company stole the watch as Peter had claimed. She was certain he’d lost it.

That comment had left Stark fuming, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He simply gathered the bag of items and left, pointedly leaving the front door wide open when he did.

He was a foster parent, now, yeah. But he could still be a petty jerk. At least with others. He was going to have to work on making sure that he didn’t present that façade to Peter.

>><><><><< 

“For how long?” Peter asked.

Tony hesitated. He hadn’t really thought of that. Then he shrugged.

“Until you get tired of me, I suppose.”

“Or you get tired of me?”

“That’s not going to happen, Peter,” Tony told him. He scooped the boy up into his arms, ignoring the snot bubble that popped against his jaw. “I’m never going to get tired of having you around. I like your company too much.”

Peter sniffed, his arms coming around Tony’s neck.

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” Tony brushed Peter’s curls back from his forehead, and then reached for a dishcloth to wipe his face. “What do you think?” he asked. “Should we give it a try?”

Peter nodded, but couldn’t answer around the lump in his throat. It was answer enough that he hugged the billionaire, tightly, and didn’t let him go for several long minutes. Minutes that Tony spent simply crooning to him, and rubbing his back.

“Are we going to have Thanksgiving?” Peter asked, softly.

“Of course. Everyone’s looking forward to it. If you’re alright with them still coming over.”

He nodded, again.

“Yeah.”

Tony turned his head and pressed a kiss against Peter’s cheek.

“Do you want to finish your ice cream?” he asked. “Or do you want to see your new room?”

“I get my own room?”

Tony smiled tenderly at him, still holding him.

“You can’t sleep on the couch, can you?”

“I could.”

Peter felt a surge of happiness. He’d sleep on the floor if that was what it took for him to be able to stay with Tony. He knew the state wouldn’t allow that, of course, and knew Tony wouldn’t, either.

“Well, you have your own room,” Stark assured him. He set Peter down and picked up the spoon that had been dropped. “Come on, let’s go see if you like it, or if we need to change some things up.”

Peter was almost nervous when Tony led him across the living room and toward the closed door. He hung back, hiding behind Tony’s leg as the door was opened. Tony smiled down at him, noticing what he was doing, but uncertain why he was doing it.

“It’s okay, Peter,” he told him, a hand going to the boy’s shoulder. “Tell me what you think.”

Peter peeked into the room, and gasped, his eyes widening.

There was a bed, of course. A huge bed, that was so high up there was even a small step at the bottom to assist Peter getting onto it. There were a million pillows, and a blue comforter that looked warm and soft. The room also had a desk, and Peter saw that there was a display screen, but no keyboard or mouse – which told him it was almost certainly integrated into JARVIS, since Tony never used a mouse or keyboard. He either told his AI what he wanted to do, or manipulated the screen, manually.

The boy saw that his tablet and phone were on the desk, too.

“Wow.”

Tony’s smile widened.

“I wanted Ironman for your bedspread, but Natasha and Pepper both vetoed it. They called me a megalomaniac. Can you believe that?”

Peter had wrapped his arms around himself as he walked into the room, not missing the giant flat screen television on the wall, and the small table in the corner near the closet. There were several storage cubicles in different bright colors. He went over and looked in them, curiously, and found that they held toys and games of all sorts. Legos of every color and size, tinker toys, electronic gadgets and an entire bookcase that was filled with puzzles, boardgames and – of course – books.

“This is all for me?” he asked, noting that there were two chairs at the table, but one was much smaller than the other.

“And me,” Stark told him, feeling smug and pleased at just how awestruck the child was. “If you’re okay with me spending time with you. We don’t always need to do your schoolwork – or my tinkering. Sometimes, we could just goof off. Together.”

“Wow.”

The closet was a walk in type, and there was a dresser in it. Peter opened every drawer and found it was filled with jeans and t-shirts, socks and underwear, sweats and his pajamas – and even a new pair of shoes sitting beside it. There was also a warm winter coat – and this time, he noticed it was red and gold – and galoshes, a hat, and even mittens and a scarf.

“Do you like it?”

Peter nodded, silently, and walked into the bathroom. He turned to look at Tony.

“Where are your things?”

“In my bathroom,” came the reply. “This one is just for you.”

There was a tub with a showerhead that Peter couldn’t reach, and a sink that had a new toothbrush and paste – and on the edge of the tub was a little yellow duck.

“I get my own bathroom?”

“Yup. But you have to keep it clean. We didn’t have time to retrofit the shower so you can get to it, but I’ll get that taken care of after the holiday. Until then, you’ll have to settle for baths.”

“Okay.” Peter never took showers, so that wasn't an issue – but he thought it might be fun to try. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony looked around the room. “Why don’t you get settled in?” he suggested, deciding that Peter could use a little bit of time to adjust. “Then we need to go to the store.”

“For what?”

“If everyone’s coming over for Thanksgiving, tomorrow, we need to go buy a turkey and some other groceries. I wanted to wait, so you could come, too, and help me decide what we want to get.”

“Can I help cook?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it all by myself.”

Stark tousled his hair, and then left the room, and Peter looked around, uncertain what to do, first.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Wow.”

“Do you like your room?”

“It’s incredible.”

“Do you see anything that you need but was not supplied?”

“Not right now.”

“Then settle in. If you need anything, ask me – or go find Tony. He’s in the kitchen.”

“Okay.”

The boy ran his hand along the bed, and then stepped up the little step and climbed onto it. He wrapped his arms around himself, again, as he looked around, and for a moment allowed himself to believe that he was finally going to be happy. With a laugh that he couldn’t hold back, he scrambled to his feet and started jumping on the bed, a display of pure exuberance that he couldn’t help, just then.

Time enough later to face reality, after all, and he was a small boy, despite his brilliance. Even a genius could be forgiven for hoping, despite the evidence he’d already been presented with that life would almost certainly toss him another roadblock, eventually.

Chapter Text

Peter was still sitting on his bed when there was a soft knock on his door and Tony peeked in.

“Doing okay?”

The boy smiled, and nodded.

“Yes. It’s a lot.”

The billionaire smiled, too, pleased with himself for making that happy expression happen. He walked into the room and Peter saw that he was carrying the boy’s backpack, which he set on the desk.

“I know. But you deserve it. Do you feel up to going to the store with me?”

Another nod, and a little bit of excitement. Peter scooted himself to the edge and hopped off the bed.

“Yes. What are we getting?”

“Well… let’s go make a list. Come on.”

They went out into the kitchen, and the bowls of ice cream that had been mostly untouched were gone. Now that he wasn't quite so dazed, Peter had a chance to look around a little more, but kitchens were kitchens to eight year olds. As long as there was a fridge, and a counter, life was right. He frowned, though. There was a coffee maker on the counter, and a block of wood that had handles sticking out of it – similar to the knife holder at the Tatro’s and even Miss Marples – but something was missing.

“You don’t have a toaster?”

Tony shook his head, smiling, as he picked Peter up to sit him on the island so he had a better view of what was going on.

“I do not. Think we need one?”

“How do you make poptarts and eggos?”

“And that’s a yes…” Stark said, amused. “Don’t fall off, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Tony handed his personal tablet to Peter.

“Your job is to write out our shopping list.” Since the boy had the typical handwriting of an eight year old – despite being brilliant – there was no way he was handing him a pencil and a piece of paper for that particular job. “And put toaster right on the top.”

“Okay.”

Tony opened the fridge.

“We need carrots. And milk.”

“Can we have chocolate milk?”

“Put it on the list.”

Peter practically shivered with excitement as he did.

“Meat… cheese… mayo…” the list went on and on, as Tony thought of things that they would need for their own personal meals for the next week. He didn’t normally cook, but he didn’t want to get into the habit of feeding Peter fast food and takeout every day, either, so what he didn’t already know, he could learn. When they’d gone through the fridge, and then the pantry cupboards, he turned back to the boy. “Now… tomorrow the others are bringing dessert, cold side dishes and beverages. We’re responsible for mashed potatoes, bread rolls and the turkey. Put that on the list.”

Peter did as he was told, and shook his head, amazed.

“It’s a pretty long list.”

“Then we’d better get to it.”

><><><><><<> 

“So… ground rules…”

Peter looked at Tony, waiting. He wasn't surprised, of course. They were parked in a huge parking lot, outside a multi-department store, and the place looked busy. Of course, there were a lot of people doing last minute shopping like Tony and Peter were, so it wasn't surprising.

“Stay close to you?” Peter guessed.

“Right beside me,” he confirmed. If he could, he’d put the little guy on a leash, just to make sure he didn’t lose him in the crowd. “Are you too old to sit in the cart?”

“That’s for babies.”

Too bad.

“Then stay close to me, okay? I don’t want to lose you, now that I’ve got you.”

That made Peter smile.

“Okay.”

“If you see something that you want, tell me. Even if it isn’t on the list. Don’t be shy. Got it?”

Peter nodded, excitedly.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go, then.”

><<><><>> 

He didn’t do a ton of shopping for himself, and he’d never done any grocery shopping with a child, before, but Tony had a pretty good time.

It helped that Peter was very conscientious about staying close to Tony so he didn’t have to worry about him. The boy wasn't always at his side, but if he wasn't, then he made sure to hook his fingers into the metal of the shopping cart basket and walk beside it as they went up and down the aisles. With Stark dressed casually and accompanied by a little kid, no one even seemed to recognize him, so they weren’t in any real hurry.

The cart filled with the items on their list, including the toaster, but if Peter’s gaze lingered over something longer than a casual glance, or he looked twice at something, it invariably ended up in the cart, as well.

When they’d checked out and had the back of the car loaded with shopping bags, Tony suggested that since it was getting late, maybe they should just stop and get something to eat rather than try to cook for themselves. Peter agreed, willingly, and Tony promised himself they’d start eating at home the next day, instead. A quick run through the drive thru of a burger place and they were pulling up in front of the apartment building, once more, with Peter holding a bag of burgers, fries and chicken nuggets in one hand, and a chocolate milkshake in the other.

“Got it alright?” Tony asked, opening Peter’s door to help him out of the car.

“Yes.”

The billionaire took his own shake when the boy handed it over, and they headed for the elevator.

“What about our stuff?” Peter asked.

“The valets will have someone bring it up and deliver it to the door.” One of the benefits of living in a swanky apartment building. “I want to eat before it gets cold.”

“Oh.”

While they were eating, the copious amount of bags were delivered, but they waited until they were finished before putting them away. Peter wasn't a lot of help, but Tony made sure he watched, so he would know where everything was.

“We’ll have actual meal times,” Tony assured him. “Breakfast and dinner, at least – and lunch on days when you don’t have school. But if you’re hungry, or if you want a snack, then you can help yourself. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“No cooking, though,” the billionaire added. “Leave that to me. That way I feel needed.”

Peter smiled at that, and he hugged himself, again, amazed.

“Okay.”

They’d bought a step stool, so Peter would be able to see at counter level when they were doing something in the kitchen, together (like cooking) but it was simply tucked against the side of the island, for now. Tony hefted Peter up onto the island, instead.

“What do you know about cooking turkeys?” he asked the boy, as they contemplated the frozen bird that they’d purchased.

The store – well aware that there were always people doing things last minute – had started to pre-thaw a couple of dozen turkeys of all sizes for those doing their shopping later than they should be. Tony and Peter had contemplated every one available, trying to decide what size they needed and finally asking JARVIS how big a bird was recommended for the amount of people anticipated. Then they bought that size. It was still somewhat frozen, however.

Peter shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, me either. I seem to remember the cook would thaw it, pull something from its insides and then put it in the oven, early. They need a lot of cook time. JARVIS?”

“Correct, sir.” The AI almost sounded amused to find Tony at a loss for something so mundane. “It needs to thaw, first. Put it on a pan in the refrigerator and you can check its progress in the morning.”

They'd bought potatoes for mashing, but had cheated with the bread rolls, having opted for simply getting heat and serve rolls – although Peter had pointed to some roll your own and bake them croissants and had mentioned they were good when his mom used to make them. Tony had picked up a few tubes of them to make.

“Sounds good.” He did what he was told, and then turned his attention to Peter. “Did you bring home any schoolwork?”

“Yes.”

“Is it difficult?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not going to worry about it, tonight, okay? I think it’s been eventful enough, for you. What do you think?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and then come back out here and we’ll watch a movie.”

That would be relaxing, and hopefully put him to sleep. Tony was tired, even if Peter wasn't, and was ready to get off his feet for a while.

“Okay.”

Tony picked him up to put him onto the floor, but hugged him, for just a moment, before he did.

“I’m glad you’re here, buddy,” he told the boy, sincerely.

Peter wrapped his arms around Tony, hugging him, too.

“So am I.”

Chapter Text

Peter woke early the next morning in his new bed with no memory of how he got there. He stretched, the warm comforter tempting him to go back to sleep for a little while longer, even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept through the night. He opened his eyes, looking around the bedroom with a fresh wonder. There were so many gadgets, and gizmos and even toys. Not that he’d ever been abused in his short life – although May’s care had been somewhat iffy, at best – but Tony seemed to be going all out for him, to make him feel wanted.

And he did.

They’d converged on the sofa the night before, and he remembered Tony draping a blanket over them as they settled in to watch a movie. The apartment was warm, even without the fire in the gas fireplace, and Peter had nestled himself right up against Tony’s side, feeling very much as if it were the most normal thing ever.

But he didn’t remember much past the opening credits of the family friendly movie they’d started watching.

“JARVIS?”

“Good morning.”

Peter smiled at the instant response, and the greeting.

“Good morning. Did I fall asleep, last night?”

“Yes. Tony put you to bed when the movie was finished.”

“Where is he?”

“Still in bed. It’s early, yet. Although he did go to bed at a reasonable time, last night – especially for him.”

“Do I have to stay in bed until he wakes up?”

“Of course not. Are you hungry?”

“Not, yet.”

“Then get yourself woken up and come out to the living room. You can keep me company while I look up how to cook that monster of a bird.”

Peter laughed and rolled out of the bed, dropping to the floor, silently.

“What time are the others coming?”

“The latest input I have is that they will attempt to be here by noon. Colonel Rhodes is looking forward to watching football, and will probably arrive earlier, so he can be here before the game starts. His reasoning is that if the game is already on, the others will not be impolite enough to change to something else.”

“Wow.”

><><><>>< 

When Tony came out of his bedroom, he found Peter sprawled on the couch, bundled in a blanket watching cartoons and eating a poptart. The billionaire yawned, and walked over to lean over the back of the sofa, touching the boy’s head from behind. Peter looked up at him and smiled, and it made Tony smile, too.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been up?”

The boy glanced at the clock.

“An hour.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were asleep.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

He’d finally decided to have a poptart when hunger drove him into the kitchen, and JARVIS had suggested that he also pull the turkey from the fridge to give it a chance to thaw a little more.

“We’ll make breakfast and then start cooking.”

“Okay.” The boy turned off the TV and shoved the rest of the poptart into his mouth as he climbed over the back of the couch to follow Tony into the kitchen. “JARVIS said to take the turkey out and put it in the sink.”

“Thank you.” He started the coffee maker, and watched as Peter climbed up onto his chair. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.”

Tony hadn’t been too surprised when Peter had fallen asleep during the movie. It had been a long, emotional, day, after all, and that would wear on anyone. Especially a little boy. By the time the movie was over – and Tony hadn’t left Peter dozing on the sofa to do other things – Peter was snoring, softly, and drooling, just a little. He hadn’t stirred when the billionaire picked him up and carried him into his room to put him to bed, either.

“Is your bed comfortable?” he asked, poking a finger into the turkey to test how thawed it was. “Or do we need to get a new one for you?”

“It’s great.”

“Good.” He frowned. “JARVIS? How do we thaw this thing out, faster?”

“Run hot water over it,” came the suggestion.

Tony did as he was told, and dried his hands off.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

“That’s it?”

“With a banana chopped up in it?”

“Alright.” Cereal wasn't something Tony ate very often, but they’d bought a few different kinds at the store the night before, and he pulled the healthiest of the options down. Fruit Loops wouldn’t taste very good with a banana in them, after all. “Rhodey is coming around ten,” he told the boy as he poured the cereal into a bowl and brought the milk out. “Everyone else will come around noon.”

“Okay.”

Tony watched the boy eat while he made his way through his first cup of coffee. He felt pretty good, really. After he’d put Peter to bed, he’d decided to call it a night, as well, and because of that, he’d had more sleep than usual. He brought up a display that showed the local news, mostly out of habit, and realized something.

“Did you want to go to the big parade, today?” he asked Peter. “I could get us a great view.”

“No. Thanks.” Peter hesitated. “Unless you want to?”

“If I’m there it will be even more of a spectacle. I feel like being low-key, today, and just spending time with people I like.”

Peter smiled at the thought that he was included in that group.

They talked about what they were going to have to get finished before their company arrived, but the big one was the turkey. Had they done it right, the bird would have been thawing for a few days, now, and would have been ready for baking. As it was, they were in danger of having ham, or hamburger helper, and ending up eating the thing by themselves sometime later in the week.

Luckily, JARVIS’ suggestion seemed to be better than anything that Tony could come up with, and by the time Peter was finished with his breakfast and Tony had started another cup of coffee, the things was thawed enough to put in the disposable baking pan that Tony had bought the day before. Then, following the direction of the AI – and watching a demonstration on the display that came down from the ceiling – Tony managed to pull the little baggy of innards out and was waving it in front of Peter, who giggled and pretended to throw up.

“What do we do with it, JARVIS?” Tony asked.

“Make gravy.”

“Ugh.”

They’d bought canned gravy, so that wasn't going to happen.

Tony put the turkey in the oven, and then set the timer – although JARVIS could watch it, too – and then turned to Peter.

“I’m going to go take a shower and get changed.”

“Okay.”

He smiled, his expression softening as he looked at Peter.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Peter. It’s going to make today great.”

That made Peter smile.

“I am, too, Tony.”

“Good. Need anything?”

“No.”

He was going to go change, too – although he didn’t think he needed a bath.

Peter watched as Tony downed his coffee and then vanished into his bedroom. The little boy looked around the kitchen, and then hopped off his chair and went into his room to change. He returned a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a Captain America t-shirt, and went back to the sofa, where he bundled himself, once more, into the blanket and turned the TV back on.

The parade wasn't on, yet, but they were showing all of the preparations and the giant balloons, and Peter thought that that was pretty interesting, too.

><><><><>

He wasn't so caught up in the program that he didn’t hear Tony coming out of his bedroom sometime later. Peter smiled when he felt the grown up come up behind him, lean over the sofa and hug him.

“What have you learned, so far?” Tony asked him, brushing his still damp hair against Peter’s cheek, making the boy squirm.

“There’s an Ironman balloon. Did you know that?”

Tony was pleased at just how impressed Peter looked. Yeah, he was eight, but it was always fun to see anyone looking at you with that kind of wonder.

“I heard rumors. Is it a good one?”

“It’s bigger than the Snoopy one.”

“Wow. I made the big time, then. No Captain America one?”

“No. I didn’t see one, yet.”

“Good.”

He couldn’t help but feel smug and didn’t bother to hide it in his tone.  Tony let the boy go and walked around to join him on the sofa, purposefully pinning him under the blanket by sitting on the edge, and then squishing him, a little, against the cushioned arm of the couch. Peter giggled at the treatment, and shifted so that he was leaning against Tony, again, and the two settled in to watch the craziness that was the thanksgiving parade in the city.

Chapter Text

“Colonel Rhodes is at the door.”

“Let him in.”

Tony was way too comfortable to be bothered to get up to open the door, and luckily, with JARVIS running the household, he didn’t have to. The billionaire was sitting on the end of the sofa, leaning against the cushiony armrest, and Peter – still wrapped in a cocoon of a blanket – was sprawled bonelessly on him, draped over his lap in a position that would have had Stark going to the chiropractor, but seemed perfectly comfortable to the little boy.

Both looked up when Rhodey walked in, carrying a couple of bags. The other man smiled at the domestic scene in front of him.

“Hey Cheese Pizza,” he greeted Peter. “I heard you were living here, now. How’s it going?”

Peter’s smile was answer enough, but the boy twisted so he was sitting up, his hands on the back of the couch and looking at Rhodes.

“I have my own room.”

“Yeah? Did Tony buy you a puppy, yet?”

Rhodes smirked at the look of horror on his friend’s face, but luckily, Peter shook his head.

“I don’t want a puppy. He bought me poptarts, though – and we got a toaster.”

“Oooo,” Rhodes forced himself to sound impressed. “That’s important.”

“Yeah. And I have my own chair to sit in – and a lot of toys. And Legos.”

Rhodes looked almost as cheerful as Peter did.

“That’s great, buddy. I’m glad he’s taking good care of you.”

Peter nodded, and stood up, allowing the blanket to fall as he scrambled over the back of the couch to join Rhodes.

“We watched a movie, last night.”

“What did you have for dinner?”

“McDonald’s.”

The other man glanced over at Stark.

“I thought you made a resolution to start cooking…?”

“It was late by the time we were finished shopping for thanksgiving dinner,” Tony told him. “But starting today, we’re eating a little healthier.”

“Good.”

“What did you bring?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I was told to bring salad stuff. No one said what kind, so I brought lettuce and all of that, but I brought potato salad, and macaroni salad, and fruit salad.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“We’re not going to be able to eat all of that.”

“Sure we are. Peter will help, right?”

The boy nodded, following Rhodes into the kitchen, and climbing up on his chair, and then onto the island to get a better view as Rhodey went to the fridge.

“Yeah. I like all of those.”

“See?”

The look Rhodes gave Stark was smug, and Tony rolled his eyes, but frowned when Peter reached for the container of potato salad, and then accidentally allowed it to slip out of his hands.

“Hey, be-“

Before he could even finish the sentence, the potato salad went over the edge of the island, and Peter lunged for it, and vanished over the side of the island, as well.

“Peter!”

Rhodey reached for the boy, but his hands were full, and there was a cry of surprise and a breathless gasp. Rhodes made a shocked noise, too, and stared, and Tony rushed up to the other side of the island, visions of blood, stitches and head wounds and a trip to the ER already racing through his mind in the seconds it took him to get there. Then he stared, too.

“What the hell?”

“Tony! Help!”

Peter was frozen. He wasn't on the kitchen floor, though, and he wasn't on the island. For all intents and purposes, the little boy seemed to be stuck to the side of the island, suspended halfway between the floor and the top.

“How-“

“Grab him, Rhodey,” Tony said, reaching around his friend to hold Peter in place and keep him from falling – although he wasn't even supporting him, he knew immediately.

Rhodes reached for Peter, too, and the two men pulled the scared boy from the side of the island and up righted him, setting him on the island – ironically enough – to make sure he hadn’t hurt himself.

“How did you do that?” Rhodes asked, even as Tony was running careful fingers over Peter’s curls, looking for blood.

Peter’s face was red from being upside down, and his expression was scared, but he didn’t seem to be injured.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” Peter’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t fall. I mean, I did, but I didn’t land.”

“I saw…” Tony felt a surge of relief. “Don’t ever do that again. You scared the liver out of me.”

“You stuck to the side,” Rhodey said, still amazed. He took Peter’s hand, looking at his fingers and running his own along it. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Peter answered. He looked at the two men. “It just happened.”

“You’re not hurt?” Tony repeated.

“No. I don’t think so.” He looked down at himself. “Am I bleeding?”

“No.” Thank God. “JARVIS? How did Peter keep from hitting the floor?”

“Unknown.”

“Do you have video?”

“Not with the proper angle. Perhaps an experiment might be in order.”

Tony scowled.

“We’re not going to try that, again.”

There was a slight hesitation.

“I meant a controlled experiment,” the AI clarified. “Hold him against the wall and see if he sticks.”

“That’s insane,” Stark muttered, even as Rhodes picked Peter up and walked over to one of the bare kitchen walls. “He’s not going to just stick to-“

Rhodes held Peter against the wall, and then carefully let him go, holding his hands out – just in case. The precaution wasn't necessary, though, because Peter stayed where he was, looking around in shock, and a little fear.

“Get me down… please!”

“Easy, Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, plucking him from the wall and then holding him close, since he could feel Peter trembling. “I’ve got you.” He looked at Tony with an awed expression. “Did you know your guy here could stick to walls?”

Tony walked over and reached for Peter, taking the boy from his friend, and hugging him close as he shuddered in reaction. People didn’t just stick to walls. Everyone knew that.

“No.” From the looks of it, though, Peter hadn’t known, either. “You’re okay, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Tony assured him. “Did you know you could do that?”

“No.” Peter buried his face into Tony’s neck. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You stuck to the wall,” Rhodes told him, rubbing his back, reassuringly. “Like a fly, or a spider, or something. It was amazing.”

“Yeah, it was…” Tony said. He ran his fingers through Peter’s curls. “Hey? You’re okay. No blood? No pieces from the inside trying to come out?”

“No. I’m not hurt.”

“Then it’s alright.”

He knew about Peter’s strength, and knew that he healed quickly, but this was something much more incredible, and technically, he wasn't supposed to know about the others. He tried to think of a way to address it that would get Peter to talk about it and not give away that Tony had been snooping into the security cameras. Before he could, however, Rhodes spoke up.

“How did you do that?” he asked the boy. “You’re not an alien, are you?”

Peter shook his head, pulling his face away from Tony’s neck to look at the other man.

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” He hesitated, turning to look into Tony’s worried and wondered gaze. “I… it might be because of the thing that happened…”

Yes. Stark felt a surge of relief. If Peter was willing to mention it, then maybe he was ready to share. And that meant that maybe they’d reconciled his stupid tirade back at the compound when he’d found out that Peter knew JARVIS.

“What thing?” he asked, forcing his expression to be calm, and curious.

“It was in a lab,” Peter said. “On a field trip. It’s kind of a long story – sort of.”

“Let’s get comfortable, then,” Rhodes told them, already heading for the sofa.

Tony looked at Peter.

“Okay?”

Meaning, was he ready to tell him?

The boy nodded.

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

“So, what do you think it was?” Rhodes asked a short time later.

Both men were staring at the boy, who was sitting in Tony’s lap to keep him from being too overwhelmed. Strong, reassuring arms were wrapped around his belly from behind, but not so strong that he couldn’t turn to look at the man as he told them about the weird thing that had happened to him, and had watched their expressions for any indication that they didn’t believe him.

“A bug.” Peter shrugged. “It had to be something little. I didn’t see anything, and I would have noticed a dog, or a rat, or a monkey…”

“True,” Tony agreed. “Besides, dogs and monkeys don’t stick to walls.”

“Yeah.”

“What else can you do?” Rhodes asked, curiously. His eyes widened, excitedly. “Can you fly?”

Peter shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Then it wasn't a fly that got you,” the man pointed out. He smiled. “We could put you in a dark room and turn on the light. See if you scurry away like a cockroach.”

That made the little boy smile for the first time since he’d fallen off the island.

“I don’t mind the lights coming on. And I see in the dark pretty well…” he added.

“This is what you were trying to get my help with?” Stark asked, gently. “Before, I mean?”

“Yes. I didn’t know I could do the wall thing, but I knew I was strong, and I get weird feelings, sometimes. I thought…” he shrugged. “I thought that since you’re a superhero, you would know what I should do. What do you think?”

“Huh.” Tony brushed Peter’s bangs back with his hand. “I think you have a lot on your plate for someone so young. Do these abilities hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll see what happens. You told Natasha and the others?”

“Clint and Sam,” Peter confirmed. “I wanted to tell you,” he added. “But you were so angry… I didn’t-“

“That’s on me,” Tony told him. “And I really am sorry. I was terrible to you, and you didn’t deserve it.” Peter nodded, and put his cheek back on Tony’s shoulder, ready to be cuddled and comforted. Stark complied, of course, and he smiled when he looked at Rhodey. “I can’t wait to show the others…”

The other man nodded, patting Peter’s back but looking just as smug.

“Definitely.” He looked at his watch. “The game’s starting. Tell me we still get to watch it?”

“Peter?” Tony asked. “You good with that?”

“Yeah.”

He closed his eyes and just clung to Tony.

><><><><><><> 

“Visitors at the door.”

Tony turned his head, ready to tell JARVIS to let them in, but Peter was excited to see Natasha and the others, and the boy sprang from the sofa, quickly, bouncing himself from the position he’d had between Rhodes and Tony and jumping over the back of the sofa.

“Careful…” Tony cautioned.

Peter landed, easily, though and they heard the electronic lock click to allow entrance just as the boy reached the door. It opened, revealing Romanoff, first, but she was followed by Sam, Steve, and a dark-skinned man that Peter didn’t know. The three men were loaded down with bags and packages, but Natasha’s hands were free, and she smiled when she saw the boy and swept him up into her arms with an excited noise.

“There’s my favorite guy!”

Peter hugged her, close.

“Hi, Natasha.” He looked at the others, his smile huge and his eyes bright with happiness. “Hi Steve, hi Sam.” He hesitated when the other man looked at him. “Um… hi…?”

Natasha hugged him, well aware that her companion could look a little intimidating. To anyone, really, and not just a little boy.

“This is my friend, Nick.,” Natasha told him. “Nick, this is Peter.”

Fury smiled, hands too full to offer one to the child.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Peter. It’s good to finally meet you. Stark? Come get some of these things before I drop them.”

Tony and Rhodey had both moved to greet the newcomers – although not as quickly as Peter had – and Tony reached for one of the bags that Fury held out to him. Then he moved out of the way so that Romanoff and the others could come in and close the door behind them. Natasha wasn't in any hurry to give up her excited burden, though, and the boy beamed at her.

“I’m staying here,” he told her. “Did you know?”

“I did,” she confirmed. “Which is why one of those bags that Steve is carrying has a present for you.”

His eyes widened.

“You got me a present?”

“Yup.”

“Wow.”

The bags were all carried to the island, and Peter hugged her, again, and then wriggled to get down. He climbed up his special chair and then moved to sit on the island, itself, to get a better look at all the things that they’d brought. Only to have Rhodey scoop him up.

“No way, Cheese Pizza,” the man admonished, lightly. “We’re not doing that, again.”

Peter giggled, but accepted the reprimand and settled into his chair, instead, watching as the bags were unloaded.

The others had been in charge of bringing all of the sides; there was a tray of cheese and crackers and meats. There was a fruit tray, and another with veggies and ranch dressing to dip them in. Peter reached for a carrot, even as Nick started unloading the desserts. Two pies; one pumpkin, and one apple, brownies, a small cake with a lot of icing. There was a can of cranberry sauce, and a few containers of whipped cream. The boy watched, expectantly, as Steve unloaded his bag, especially, and Rogers smiled over at him as he pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box and handed it to Peter.

“Happy housewarming,” he told him. “And by the way, I love your shirt.”

Peter beamed, and ripped open the package.

“Wow!”

It was Legos. And yes, his new room was filled with a whole box of Legos, but the Legos that they had brought him were extra special. They were Avengers themed, with a little Ironman, a Hulk, a Captain America, Falcon, War Machine, a Hawkeye, and a Black Widow. There was also a Quinjet to put them all in.

“Where did you find those?” Tony asked, curiously, taking the box from Peter to get a better look.

“I have my sources,” Natasha told him, mysteriously.

“Amazon,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes, and dodging when the assassin pretended to take a swipe at him.

The boy was looking speculatively at Fury.

“Are you an Avenger?”

Nick shook his head, pulling off the jacket that he was wearing and handing it to Stark, who rolled his eyes and took everyone else’s coats, too.

“I’m with SHIELD,” Fury told the child. “You know what that is?”

“Yeah.”

“Nick came up with the idea for the Avengers, though,” Sam said. “He’s the reason they exist.”

“Wow.”

“I hear you have some pretty impressive abilities, too,” Fury told Peter.

“Oh, you haven’t heard all of it, though,” Rhodes told him – and the others. “We just discovered a new one, this morning.”

Natasha wasn't the only one to look interested.

“Yeah?”

Peter hesitated, looking at Tony, who was returning from putting coats away. Stark understood the uncertainty, and he picked Peter up from behind.

“You mind showing them?”

“No. I don’t know if I can do it, though…”

“We’ll try. If nothing happens, then it was still pretty amazing.”

“What can he do?” Sam asked, curiously. “Oh! Wait. Tell me he can shoot laser beams from his eyes. Is that it?”

Peter giggled.

“No.”

“Can you read my mind?” Natasha asked, following as Tony carried Peter out into the living room where there was more space – and a bigger, more open, wall. “What am I thinking?”

“You’re trying to decide how to get the biggest slice of pumpkin pie,” Steve answered. “But no one needs a super ability to know that.”

She shook her head.

“You know what we need?” she asked. “More women in this room. Tony? Where’s Pepper?”

Stark snorted.

“She’s out of town visiting a sick relative and spending time with family – for a change. I invited her, but she said she’d raincheck and maybe come for Christmas, instead.”

Natasha started to say something, but then Stark did something unexpected and turned Peter in his arms and pressed the little boy up against the wall. Natasha frowned, and reached for the boy when Tony suddenly released his grip on him. Rather than falling, though, Peter stayed right where he’d been left, his little hands pressed flat against the surface of the wall.

Stark smirked at the assassin, and made a ‘ta-da’ motion with his hands. Rhodes looked smug, but the others stared – including Nick Fury, who had seen the video from the boy’s impressive lifting in the gym weeks before, but hadn’t seen anything like what he was looking at, now.

“How did you do that?” Steve asked. “Is it tech?”

“None that I know of,” Tony said, keeping his hands out – just in case Peter pulled his hand loose or something, and lost his grip and fell. “He didn’t even know he could do it until this morning when he fell off the island.”

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha asked, stepping up and putting one hand under Peter’s rear – just in case – while she moved one of his hands free of the wall with the other. The boy just smiled at her, looking happy and as normal as ever. Certainly not like a little kid sticking to the wall. “How is that possible?”

“How can he lift a hundred pounds above his head?” Tony asked. “Probably whatever bit him is something that can do it, naturally. Obviously, we don’t know anything about it – aside from its effects on Peter.”

“Does that hurt?” Natasha asked. “Holding yourself there?”

Peter shook his head.

“I can’t move, though,” he admitted. He pulled his hand away from the wall, and then put it back. “I’m stuck.”

“Not permanently, though,” Tony assured them all, taking hold of Peter and pulling him away from the wall. He tousled his hair and then set him on the floor, where he took several steps backward to prove that he wasn't stuck to the floor, and then ran into Natasha’s arms, feeling a surge of exuberance. “He’s fine.”

“I’m sticky!” Peter said, cheerfully, basking in the awed looks that they were giving him. “Pretty neat, huh?”

“It’s amazing,” she agreed, hugging him. “No experimenting with it, though, unless someone is around. I don’t want you taking a tumble.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” She set him down. “Why don’t you show me your new room?”

Peter nodded, excitedly, his attention easily distracted by the thought of being able to show her something so much more amazing than being able to stick to the wall.

“It’s great!”

Sam followed the two as they stopped in the kitchen long enough to pick up the new Avenger Legos that had been brought, and then they vanished into the bedroom. Fury shook his head, watching until the door closed.

“That’s incredible.”

Chapter Text

“That’s one word for it,” Tony agreed.

“It’s not even the most impressive thing about him, though, Nick,” Rhodes said. “He’s smart. Like Tony, smart.” He grinned. “That kid’s going to change the world, some day.”

“If he gets the support that he needs,” Steve said. “And the emotional love and care.”

He looked a little concerned, which made Tony frown.

“He’s fine, Steve. Don’t be such a nervous Nellie.”

“Power like that in such a little kid?” Fury asked, also looking a little worried. “There are people out there who’d love to get their hands on him, I imagine, and raise him to be their own super soldier…”

Steve nodded.

“What kind of protection does he have?”

“He has me,” Tony pointed out.

“And when he’s at school?”

“He’s eight, guys. He doesn’t have protection at school.”

“That needs to change,” Fury said.

“It’ll draw more attention to him if he suddenly has a bodyguard,” Rhodes said.

“Not really,” Steve replied. “Not once word gets out that he’s living with Tony. Rich kids have bodyguards all the time, right?”

“He’s not a rich kid, though.”

“If someone grabbed him, Tony would pay to get him back,” Fury pointed out – which made Stark nod his agreement, and look worried, too. “That puts him in danger. And would warrant a guard, of some sort.”

“I didn’t think about that, but you’re right.”

Of course, that was something Fury would consider, immediately. Tony had never cared about anything – or anyone – enough to worry about losing them. Now he was finding himself in that unenviable position.

“I assume that no one really knows about him, yet,” Nick added. “So you’re probably in the clear for now. But when school starts, he needs a shadow - and not just because of his abilities.”

“I’ll find a firm, or something.”

“We’ll get a couple of SHIELD agents.”

“For a little kid?”

Steve smiled.

“For a miniature superhero in training.”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused at that description, but he nodded.

“Low key, though. I’m not going to let him be afraid to stick his head outside.”

“Fair enough.”

><><><><> 

When no one made an appearance, right away, Tony went to check on Peter and the others. He opened the door and peeked his head inside, smiling when he saw Sam and Natasha sitting at the little table – although Sam was actually on the floor – playing with Legos and the new Avenger ones in particular.

“You guys okay in here?” he asked them.

All three looked at him and nodded.

“How long until we eat?” Romanoff asked.

“JARVIS?”

“The turkey should be safe to consume in another hour. It would be wise to peel the potatoes and start them to boiling.”

“I’m helping cook,” Peter told the others, handing the Ironman Lego over to Sam. “You guys can play with them, though.”

“Thank you.”

The boy crossed the room and looked up at Tony, expectantly, and Stark smiled down at him. He’d promised he could help, so if he wanted to cook with him, the man wasn't going to say no, now was he?

“You remember where we put the bag of potatoes?”

“Yes.”

“Get them and put them on the island – if you can – and wash your hands. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“This set up is pretty nice,” Romanoff said when Peter left, standing up after she carefully put the Ironman Lego figure back into the box. “He likes it.”

“Do you see anything that I might have missed?” Stark asked. “I told him to tell me if there’s anything else that he wants, but he probably wouldn’t.”

“It could use something on the walls,” Sam said, also standing.

“A Picasso?”

“A poster.”

“Oh.” He nodded, and shrugged. “Maybe we’ll look for some.”

“Steve probably has a few Captain America posters,” Natasha pointed out.

“Some interesting ones,” Tony responded, drolly. “I’m not going to have Peter traumatized waking up each morning to Rogers’ face staring down at him.”

They both chuckled at that, knowing he wasn't being a jerk, just having fun in his particular way.

“Then you’d better come up with something you’ll like better,” Romanoff told him. “And his shower is too high – and what are you going to do about keeping him safe when he’s at school?”

Tony shook his head, not at all surprised that she had already considered that. She was like Nick that way.

“It’s taken care of. Talk to Nick.”

“I will.”

“Later, though,” he added, as they walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them. “Today’s about having a good time. Not worrying.”

“You’re going to give an eight year old a knife so he can help peel potatoes,” Sam said. “There will be a little worrying involved, I’m sure.”

Tony frowned, looking toward the island where Peter was climbing his chair, holding the bag of potatoes, easily, as he did, and looking pleased with himself.

“No. He can wash them, or something. You guys can help peel them.”

“I’m the guest,” Wilson reminded him. “The guest isn’t supposed to have to cook.”

“It’s help cook, or help do the dishes. You pick.”

“Fine. I’ll cook.”

><><>><><> 

The meal itself was almost anticlimactic considering how long it took to cook it. The turkey was beginning to make the apartment smell amazing and homey by the time the potatoes were boiled and ready to be mashed, and when it came out Peter and Natasha cracked open a few tubes of the roll up croissants, rolled them with enthusiasm if not a lot of skill, and stuffed them into the still warm oven.

While they baked, Nick and Rhodey set the table, which had a leaf to make it larger – although Tony had never used it. No need when you don’t have a lot of company over, after all. Tony carved some of the bird onto a couple of platters, food of every sort was served in bowls that were designed to make clean up as easy as possible, and when the rolls came out of the oven everyone sat down to eat.

There wasn't much conversation, at first, while they made their way through a considerable portion of the fare that was offered, but once the initial gorging was through, Nick took the opportunity to get to know Peter better by asking him a lot of questions.

The little boy had clearly already decided that Nick was a good guy – despite his intimidating appearance – and answered everything he answered, willingly. By the time they were all debating if there was room for dessert, Fury knew pretty much everything there was to know about Peter’s history – even though he’d already read up on him.

It was better to hear it from the source, after all, and it was a good way to bond, a little.

They decided to hold off on dessert, and despite his dire threats, earlier, Tony told the others to go relax, while he cleared the table and handled the dishes. They didn’t, of course – which he’d silently counted on. He and Peter took care of loading the dishwasher, but the others cleared the table, putting leftovers in clear plastic containers and into the fridge for later, while the pies and other desserts were set on the island for later, when they weren’t so full.

The leaf was taken out of the table, and it was wiped clean, and then they went into the living room to laze around and watch TV.

Natasha gave Tony a smug smile when Peter chose to climb into her lap once she’d settled, and the billionaire rolled his eyes, amused. He didn’t mind, though. Peter wouldn’t get to see the Avengers every day, after all, so he should take the chance and get his time with them when he could.

They were watching the Christmas Story, and about halfway in, Romanoff brushed her fingers through Peter’s curls, not surprised that the boy was almost asleep. A full belly and a warm embrace? Who could resist?

“When are you going to get your Christmas tree?” She asked Tony.

Peter opened his eyes, proving that he wasn't completely asleep, yet, and he looked over at Stark, his expression uncertain, but definitely hopeful.

“Tradition says the day after Thanksgiving, right?” Tony asked them, smiling at the boy. “However, that is also traditionally an insane day to go out, because of all the people shopping. We could give it a go on Saturday, though, if you’re interested?”

“Really?”

“Gotta have a tree,” Sam said. “Otherwise where will you put all your presents?”

“I don’t need any presents,” Peter told him. “I have a lot of things, already, now. I can only fit so much in my backpack.”

The boy looked excited, though, about doing something so traditional, and he didn’t notice that those of them who understand the reference to carrying around everything that mattered to him in that single backpack were a little teary-eyed at the reminder.

“We’ll go looking Saturday,” Tony promised.

“A real one? Or one from a box?”

“Do you have a preference?”

Peter shook his head.

“Whatever you want.” He hesitated, though. “I like the lights that blink, though.”

“Then we’ll have to look for some of those, too.”

Peter smiled, but with Natasha’s arms around him, he couldn’t hug himself.

“Wow.”

Nick smiled.

“When you take him to see Santa, make sure you get a picture with you in it, too, Tony,” the director of SHIELD ordered. “I’ll put it up on my wall.”

“Santa isn’t real,” Peter said.

Nick’s single eye widened.

“What? Who told you that?”

“My aunt May.”

“She’s wrong,” Nick replied. “I met the guy, once.”

“You did?” Peter asked. “Not the fake ones who pretend to be him on the corners and in the mall, but the real one?”

“I did. We were flying over the North Pole one winter, and a dozen of us saw him out training those reindeer of his, teaching the up and comers how to fly in a line.” He smirked. “You should have seen them; they were all over the place and Santa almost fell out of that sleigh a dozen times, just while we were watching.”

“Really?”

“Yup. He must be magical, too, because we were using our mirror technology to hide from him, but he still saw us. He invited us to his little cottage to have hot chocolate and cookies.”

“Wow.”

Peter couldn’t help but believe what he was being told, despite everything telling him otherwise. Nick was so gruff, and so certain. He couldn’t be wrong, could he?

“The one you visit won’t be the real Santa,” Natasha added. “He can’t be hanging out in the mall all day asking kids what they want. Those are the ones you’ve seen, but they all work for the real Santa, helping him get his list together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Did you ever get taken to see one?”

“My mom and dad took me, once.”

“What did you ask for?”

“A bike.”

“Did you get a bike?”

It was a risk, but the way the boy’s eyes lit up the few times he’d mentioned his parents told them all that they had been good people who had loved him very much. Surely they would have wanted him happy, and would have done what they could to perpetuate the myth that was Santa. Even for a boy who was so much smarter than the norm.

Peter’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Yes.”

“There you go, then. Sometimes mistakes happen and the word doesn’t get through, but it’s usually because of down power lines, or really bad snowstorms.”

“I didn’t think of that…” Peter admitted.

“Well,” Natasha said, matter of fact, hugging him. “Now you know. So you should probably start thinking about what you might want.”

Peter nodded, again.

“Yeah…”

He shifted, tucking his head back against her neck, and Romanoff looked over at Tony, who had a slight smile on his face.

Smooth.

She winked at him, and ran her fingers through those fine curls, again, ready to go back to watching the movie, and the others fell silent, too. All of them were full, and feeling lazy, and Steve’s eyes were the first to close – although Peter was right behind him. By the time the protagonist of the movie was unwrapping his Christmas presents under his parents’ watchful eyes, all of them but Nick and Tony had dozed off.

Which was fine.

That was the whole point of having comfortable furniture, after all.

Chapter Text

“I had fun, today…”

Tony smiled at the little boy that he’d just put to bed, tucking the blankets around him, and making sure he was warm.

“Yeah? Good. I had fun, too.”

They’d woken from their naps and had pie and other desserts while watching a re cap of the parade – although everyone but Peter rolled their eyes at the smirk on the billionaire’s face when the Ironman balloon was showcased and the list of Tony Stark’s achievements were touted by the announcers who was emceeing the parade.

Then the others had started packing up to get going, since they had a long drive back to the compound, and while they were told to take the leftovers, there were still plenty left in the fridge for Peter and Tony to have turkey sandwiches for dinner. They ate and then cleaned up what little mess they made, before heading into Peter’s room and continuing the ongoing adventures of the little Lego Avengers, which were clearly a successful gift.

That particular thought was proven when Peter put all the other Legos back into their big box, but tucked the little case of individuals into his backpack. Tony watched, silently, wanting to reassure the little boy that it wasn't necessary, but since he’d just been moved into Tony’s place – having made it the third time he’d been moved from foster home to foster home in five months – he didn’t think simply telling Peter would be enough.

“What are we going to do, tomorrow?” Peter asked, his eyes sleepy, but excited.

“You’re going to get a bath,” Stark told him, tousling his hair. “You can do that yourself, right?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“Your bathtub has jets on it if you want bubbles.”

The boy had noticed the jets, but hadn’t thought of a bubble bath. He smiled at that.

“Okay.”

“Then, I thought we might go for a drive. Sam told me there’s a place that lets you go pick out and cut down your own Christmas tree. Even if we don’t find the perfect tree for us, we can at least get some fresh air. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Good.” Tony hesitated, and then smiled. “Get some sleep. I don’t want you grumpy, tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night, buddy.”

><><><><><> 

“Peter needs your assistance.”

Tony tossed the blankets aside, feet already searching for his slippers.

“Is he alright?” he asked, glancing at the time. It was 3am. “Did he have a bad dream?”

There was slight hesitation.

“No. He’s in his bathroom.”

Frowning, Stark headed for the boy’s bedroom, wondering if they’d allowed him too much dessert the evening before and it was taking its toll. Maybe he was sick? The bed was empty but like JARVIS had said, the light was on in the bathroom. Tony hesitated, wondering just how much privacy a person was supposed to give an eight-year old. He’d already done enough research to know that he didn’t need to be bathed, and should be able to dress himself and brush his teeth as long as he was reminded.

He tapped on the door, lightly, hearing the sound of watery jets coming from the other side.

“Peter…?”

“Tony… help…”

Opening the door, the billionaire could help that he stopped in mid-stride. His eyes widened, and then he snorted before he could stop himself.

“What are you doing?”

The little boy was naked, and soaked, and stuck to the wall of the shower. He looked over his shoulder, eyes a mixture of relieved and chagrined. Bubbles were sliding down his back.

“I can’t get down.”

Stark grabbed a towel and used it to get a grip on the slick little body, and then easily plucked him off the wall. Wrapping it around Peter, he held him for a moment, making sure that he wasn't scared, like he’d been the day before on the island.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He was shivering, now, but that was from being cold. “Sorry.”

“What were you doing?”

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Yeah…?”

“So I thought I’d take my bath…”

“I can see that.”

“And then I was looking up at the shower while the water was filling, and I wondered if whatever it is that lets me stick to the wall would let me stick to a wet, slippery wall.”

“So you tried it.”

“Yeah.” He trembled. “But then I couldn’t get down.”

“It probably takes a bit of practice,” Stark pointed out. “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“But not tonight. You're not injured?”

“No.”

“Finish your bath, then. Do you want the shower on?”

“No. Can I still do bubbles?”

“Will you stay off the wall if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then all the bubbles that you want.”

Peter smiled.

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

“I wish I had a video…” He hugged the boy, and set him on his feet, towel and all. “No one would ever believe me.”

“I’m glad you don’t.”

“JARVIS?” Tony said, heading for the door – after making sure there was another towel on the rack. “Keep an eye on him and call me if he needs me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Still smiling, Stark headed for the kitchen. He wasn't going to go back to bed. Just in case Peter needed anything.

><><><><> 

Peter didn’t go back to sleep after he was finished with the bath. He was too wound up after spending over an hour playing with the jets and the bubble liquid. He’d pour some into the water, and turn on the jets in the tub, watching in amazement and pure joy as the tub would fill with bubbles. Then he’d stick his face into them, closing his eyes tightly to avoid getting the soap in them.

That lesson he’d learned the first time.

When he’d finally decided to get out of the bath, he wasn't sleepy, so he dried off, dressed in the same pajamas that he’d discarded, earlier, and went out to the living room, thinking that he might get a snack and start in on the schoolwork that he hadn’t even looked at, yet.

Living with Tony was way too much of a distraction, so far.

He was surprised to find the man sitting at the island, two displays in front of him and his attention so completely on what he was doing that he didn’t look up as Peter walked over.

“What are you working on?” Peter asked, curiously, climbing up his special chair to get a look. “Or is it secret?”

Tony shook his head. The only reason he hadn’t had a heart attack when Peter snuck up on him – and he knew he hadn’t done it on purpose, but the boy was really quiet on his feet – was that JARVIS had warned him Peter was done with his bath,

“It isn’t a secret – for you,” he added. “But don’t tell anyone else, okay? I like to keep things close to my chest until I’m ready to show the world the newest development.”

“Okay.”

Peter looked interested, of course.

“Do you know what nanotech is?”

“Not too much. Little robots?” he guessed. Then his eyes lit up. “You’re making little robots?”

Tony smiled.

“Not exactly. They’re little robots, sort of, but if I figure it out, they’ll make me a new kind of suit. One that I can carry with me all the time, and activate with a touch.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Stark agreed. “But it’s a ways off, yet, even for me.” He turned off the displays, trusting JARVIS to save what they’d been working on. “You should go back to sleep.”

“You aren’t.”

“I’m older than you. I don’t need so much sleep.” He reached out and tapped the boy’s nose. “You, on the other hand, should be getting ten hours a night. I looked it up.”

“I can’t sleep that much.”

“I know.” Which didn’t mean that they were going to go out and do anything active. Not until much later. “Are you hungry? Breakfast is still a while off, but we have plenty of leftovers to snack on.”

Proof being that he had a small plate of untouched crackers near at hand.

“I was going to work on my schoolwork.”

“Can I help?”

The boy’s smile was answer enough, really, but he nodded.

“I’ll go get it.”

Tony watched him jump from his chair and hurry to his room, and then turned to the fridge to find something to feed them both. Nothing too heavy, but maybe a light snack and a little quiet downtime would make Peter sleepy, again. The 2am bath definitely didn’t do the trick, so they’d have to make a new rule to keep that from happening, again. He wanted to get Peter on a better sleeping schedule – although he knew that he wasn't the best example of that.

Well, maybe he’d work on getting himself on a better schedule, too., he thought as he carried their snack into the living room just in time to meet Peter who was coming out of his room, books in hand and looking expectant.

They could work on that together, too.

Chapter Text

“We’re not really going to get a Christmas tree, are we?”

Tony shrugged, buckling his seatbelt.

“We might. If we find one that we like.”

“It won’t fit in your car.”

“We’ll figure it out. For now, we’re just going to go for a drive and check the place out.” He hadn’t missed the way Peter enjoyed every trip that they’d taken out of the city, so far, and they might as well scope out a tree while they were getting the fresh air. “If we find the right tree, then we’ll go from there.”

“Okay.”

They had nothing but time that day, really.

Peter’s homework hadn’t taken long for the boy to do – especially with Tony feeding him answers. Recognizing that he wasn't sleepy, really, and already catching on that the little guy could watch movies endlessly, rather than try to send him back to bed, Tony had simply brought out a blanket from his bed, had JARVIS turn off all the lights, and then turned on a Disney cartoon while the two of them lounged on the sofa and watched it.

The child fell asleep rather quickly, leaning up against Tony, who dozed off after a while, as well. When they’d next woken, the sun was well up in the sky, the streets were filled with Black Friday shoppers, and rather than bother to go out into that mess, they’d eaten a leisurely breakfast and discussed the merits of going to buy the decorations for the tree before they even found one, or if they should wait to make sure they had the right tree before buying whatever was going to go on it.

In the end, they (mainly Tony) decided that they didn’t want to go to any store that day if they could avoid it. Time enough the next day, after all, when Tony had already brought up the idea of going to see Santa at the mall. Peter had been uncertain, now that he was away from Nick’s certainty, but he’d looked so hopeful, almost desperate to believe that Santa really was waiting to hear what he told the guy in the mall that he wanted for Christmas, that Tony had taken the decision away from him. He pointed out that he needed to go to the mall, anyway, so they might as well stop in and see what they could see.

So they drove out of the city and headed for the place that Tony had been told about. Peter watched the scenery with interest, and grinned, excitedly, when the first fat snowflakes hit the windshield.

“It’s starting to snow!”

Tony rolled his eyes, not bothering to point out that his sportscar wasn't designed to traverse back wood roads with accumulating snowfall. It wasn't a big deal, so far, since it wasn't too bad.

“Good thing we brought winter clothes, then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, watching as the snow fell against the windshield as they drove, and the trees were getting bigger and the houses fewer and further apart from each other.

It was almost an hour before they pulled into a long driveway, and now, suddenly, the trees were all uniform shaped and close to the same size. A perfect Christmas tree farm. They weren’t the only ones to park their car in the large gravel parking area, but there were only a few people in sight; small groups of potential customers intently checking out all the available trees, and none of them paid any attention as Tony got out of the car, grabbing his coat and putting it on before he opened Peter’s door and helped him into his heavy coat, too.

“Ground rules,” he said, picking the boy up and putting him on the hood of the car so he could put snow boots on his feet.

There was only a couple of inches of snow, and more falling, but he didn’t want Peter to have cold or wet toes.

“Yeah?”

“No wandering off.”

“Okay.”

“No trying to pet anything that might want to eat us.”

“Like what?”

“Bears. Wolves. Angry squirrels.”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“No chopping down any trees until we both agree.”

Peter nodded, smiling, because Tony was smiling.

“I didn’t bring an axe.”

“Neither did I.” Tony pulled the coat’s hood up over Peter’s head. “Come on. Let’s go look around.”

There wasn't a lot to see. Trees. Snow. The occasional bird or squirrel that scolded them from a distance. Every now and then a person, or a couple of people, most sizing up the trees around them, obviously looking for the perfect Christmas centerpiece for their homes or businesses. Peter didn’t mind, though. Conscientious of the promise to stay close, he held Tony’s hand as they walked around, but the billionaire could tell that it was only the grip that he had on him that kept the boy close at hand. As it was, he practically vibrated his way through the trees, pointing out a few of them and laughing whenever a wild animal would cross their path.

No one bothered them, and Tony found that he was having almost as good a time as Peter was. And he didn’t even have a drink in his hand.

By the time Peter started getting cold – and Tony’s feet were numb – they hadn’t found the exact tree that they wanted, but had seen several that would do quite nicely.

“Ready to call it a day?” he asked Peter, who nodded.

His nose was cold, and he was getting hungry.

“Yeah.”

They walked back to the car, stopping to talk with the owner of the tree farm, who was awed to be talking to Tony Stark in flesh and offered him his pick of a tree. Tony had smiled his appreciation and taken a couple of pictures with the man – and his wife, who had joined them in mid-conversation – and had mentioned that they might be out the next day or two to take one, but that he’d pay them for it, fair and square.

He didn’t set a particular time, just in case the proprietors had relatives that might come and wait to ambush him for autographs and photos of their own, but as excited as Peter was at the idea of having a Christmas tree, chances were they weren’t going to wait too long. He remote started the car to make sure the heater wouldn’t take long to warm up, then he helped Peter out of his heavy boots and coat, bundled him into the front seat and then got behind the wheel to head back home.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, forced to concentrate a little more on the road, since the snow was starting to come down, heavily.

“It was great. Did you?”

“Yes.” He hesitated. “I wanted to discuss something with you, though, and since I have you to myself, it’s probably a good time to do it.”

Peter froze, wondering if he was going to tell him that he was going to have to move. If the state had decided that Tony’s house wasn't the best place for Peter, after all. Maybe Miss Marples had decided to get a different judge and make Peter move back in with her? He knew it couldn’t last, of course, but he’d hoped for it to be a little while, at least.

“Oh.”

Tony noticed the fear in Peter’s expression and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh…” the little boy turned his head to look out the window. “I… I was thinking, is all.”

“About what?”

“Am I going to have to move?”

“What? No. Why did you ask that?”

The boy shrugged.

“Eric said he had something that he wanted to discuss with me when he told me that I was being moved from his house… I just thought that maybe it’s the script that they have you use to tell a kid.”

Stark felt something inside him ache, horribly, at the uncertainty that Peter must feel. His life had been so turned upside down, lately, and he was so little. It was hard to remember that, because he was so intelligent and had moments of maturity that seemed to be far surpassing Tony’s own levels. But he was still young, and very uncertain, obviously. Stark wanted to give him a hug, but he couldn’t with the snow falling around them.

“It’s nothing like that, Peter,” Tony told him. “This is about your school.”

Peter turned to look at him.

“My school?”

“Yeah. I was talking to Nick and the others, yesterday, and they pointed out to me that you might be in danger…”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you know what ransom is, right?”

“Yes.”

“Natasha’s worried someone might try to kidnap you, and hold you for ransom.”

“That’s kind of dumb.” He looked a little guilty for calling anything that Natasha said dumb, but it was clear he was confused. “I’m just a foster kid,” Peter told him. “Not your real son.”

“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t pay. I care about you… I want you to be safe.”

“Oh.”

“So starting on Monday, you’re going to have a bodyguard. Someone to watch you when you’re at school.”

“Natasha?”

Tony smiled.

“Probably not. Sorry. She and Nick are going to pick someone, though. He or she won’t be breathing down your neck, or anything, but it’ll be their job to watch you while you’re in school, and bring you to my office every day, after.”

“I still get to come to your office after school?”

“Of course. You still want to, right?”

“Yes.” The boy sniffed, wiping his suddenly runny nose with his forearm. “Of course. I just didn’t know if… you know, if I’d get to do that.”

“Well, you do.” Tony rested a hand on Peter’s head for a moment. “You can do anything that you want to,” he added.

“Except climb the walls…”

“Except climb the walls,” Tony agreed. “At least, not in the middle of the night. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Or at school,” Tony added. “We don’t want the rest of the world to know what you can do until you’re a little older – and better at doing it.”

Reassured – at least a little – Peter relaxed and enjoyed the drive back to the city. The snow was coming down steadily, but Tony was a skilled driver and even though they were in a car that wasn't designed for traction, he had no trouble getting them home without incident. They could have stopped at a fast food place to get dinner, but Stark had meant what he said when he’d promised to try to do right by Peter and feed him healthier than he, himself, tended to eat.

They had a ton of leftovers, still, and as soon as they got back to the apartment, Tony sent Peter to change into his pajamas while he headed into the kitchen to see what new kind of turkey something they were going to have for late lunch/early dinner.

“I don’t have to go to bed, right?” Peter asked, coming out of his room and dressed in a pair of Captain America pajamas. “It’s just because they’re more comfortable?”

“Yeah, it’s early, still,” Tony said. “How about turkey and noodle casserole for dinner?”

“Okay.”

He hoped Tony would want to play Legos that night. Or watch a movie. 

The boy was really happy at the thought of Tony spending time with him - even when they'd just spent the whole day, together.

Chapter Text

“I don’t know…” Peter said, uncertainly, holding Tony’s hand, but holding back when the rest of the line moved forward in front of him. “Maybe I should just write a letter. Or send an email.”

Tony smiled, despite Peter’s nervousness.

“It’s not the real Santa,” he reminded the child. “Just a guy that helps out.”

“But what if he tells the real Santa that I didn’t believe in him?” The boy peeked out from behind Tony’s leg at the huge golden and red throne and the heartily dressed man in the red suit and with a beard that glistened white under the mall lighting. “Maybe Santa will be mad and I won’t get anything.”

“He’s not like that, Peter,” Tony assured him, taking a step forward and watching as an ‘elf’ picked up the girl in front of them in the line and neatly deposited her on the fake Santa’s lap.

The man said a loud ho-ho-ho and asked her what her name was, making the child smile when she answered.

She didn’t look nervous at all. Only excited.

“But what if he is?”

Tony reached down and picked Peter up, holding him, but not cuddling. He just wanted him on his own level to talk to him.

“It’s going to be fine. Santa knows that you’ve had a rough time, lately. Just tell the guy what you want, let them take a couple of pictures, and then we’ll go get our Christmas tree so Santa knows where to put all your presents.”

“Think so?”

“Yup.” Tony put the boy back on his feet, and was pleased when Peter stayed in front of him, now, rather than hiding behind him. “You’ll see.”

The little girl posed with a wide smile holding the red outfit, tightly, as a photographer took several photos, and then she was lifted off Santa’s lap by an ‘elf’ on the other side of the throne, where her parents met her, paying for the photo that was printed for them and smiling at their daughter’s excitement.

The elf closest to Tony looked at Peter, expectantly, obviously reading his nervousness.

“Ready to see Santa?” he asked, kindly.

Peter looked up at Tony, who nodded, and then turned to the man in the bright green tights.

“Yes.”

The elf picked him up, easily, and settled him in Santa’s lap, and Peter looked up at the man with awe.

“What’s your name, little guy?” he was asked.

“Peter.”

“Merry Christmas, Peter. Why do you look so nervous? You’re not afraid, are you?”

“A little…”

“Don’t be.” Strong arms held him in place. “Do you know what you want for Christmas?”

Peter nodded, looking over at Tony, who was watching, closely.

“I think so. But I don’t think you can do it – not even the real Santa.”

“You can try,” was the reply. “Tell me what it is, and we’ll give it a go.”

Peter hesitated, and then shifted in the man’s lap, getting on his knees, and Tony winced when he saw one of the boy’s bony knees end up squarely on ‘Santa’s’ groin. The man didn’t miss a beat, though, even as Peter brought his mouth up to his ear to whisper in it for a moment. Then he leaned back, looking at him, expectantly.

“Well?”

“That’s a tall order. I’ll send the message, though. Anything else?”

“No. Just that.”

The photographer held up his camera and drew Peter’s attention to him.

“Say cheese.”

Peter did, and a moment later he was being picked up by the other elf, and put back on his feet. Tony met him near the cheerful woman who was handing candy canes to each child on their way out.

“You did great,” he said, pleased. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Peter shook his head, looking relieved.

“No. He’s nice.”

Tony paid for the cheaply framed photo, and admired the picture of the little boy, looking so cute. He smiled.

“Let’s go get a Christmas tree, buddy.”

“Okay.”

><><><><><> 

It was much later the same day when JARVIS announced that Natasha and Steve were at the door. The AI opened it, just as Peter hopped down from his barstool.

They walked in the door, and Natasha smiled when she saw him, scooping him up into her arms before Steve had a chance to do the same.

“Hey, handsome,” she greeted him, hugging him close and pressing a noisy kiss against his cheek that made him giggle. “How are you?”

Peter smiled, too, and he turned in her embrace, pointing, excitedly.

“We got a Christmas tree,” he told them. “Isn't it great?”

Steve walked over, joined by Tony, who shrugged.

The tree was a monster. It fit exactly right in the vaulted ceilings of Tony’s apartment, and there were blinking white lights, some Christmas ornaments, candy canes hanging from every other branch, and the thing was so covered in tinsel that Steve had to look close to see the rest of it.

“That’s quite a tree…” Rogers said, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “It’s bigger than the one you had last year, isn’t it, Tony?”

Since he hadn’t bothered with a Christmas tree in more than a decade, Tony was forced to nod.

“That it is,” he agreed.

“I did the tinsel,” Peter told them, squirming so Natasha could know that he wanted down. He ran over to it, and pulled a candy cane from a branch that was on level with his head, and held it up. “And there are candy canes.”

“Wow…”

“They’re different flavors, too,” Peter told them, proudly. “Not just this kind; there’s orange, and strawberry, and root beer.”

“That’s amazing,” Natasha said. “I didn’t know candy canes came in so many types.”

Tony rolled his eyes at her amused look.

“I didn’t either.”

“There aren’t any presents, though,” Steve noted, looking at Stark with an expectant expression.

“We’ve had the tree up for three hours,” the billionaire said. “Even I need a little time.”

“Well don’t take too long,” Natasha said, smiling when Steve picked Peter up only to hang him upside down in his arms, which made the boy laugh. “It looks bare.”

“It won’t for long,” Tony assured them. “He just ate, Rogers,” Tony added. “If he pukes on you, that’s your mess to clean up. You’ve been warned.”

Steve smirked, swinging Peter, slightly.

“He’s not going to throw up, are you, Peter?”

“Nope.”

His face was turning red, though, from being upside down. He didn’t mind.

Tony shook his head, amused.

“Why don’t you show Steve the new hat you got?”

“Okay.” The boy looked up at Captain America. “They had some at the Christmas tree place. It’s warm.”

“Let’s go see.”

He winked at Natasha and, still holding Peter upside down, he walked into the boy’s room and closed the door behind them.

“What’s up?” Natasha asked, stealing a root beer candy cane from the tree and then walking over to the kitchen. “You know there’s a blizzard going on, right? And I’m not in the habit of being summoned.”

Tony nodded.

“I appreciate you coming. I need a little help with something, and I’m hoping you’re the one to do it.”

“Oh? Need a baby-sitter? I’m in.”

He smiled.

“Any time you want, but no. JARVIS?”

The kitchen display came on, and a moment later there was a video feed of what was obviously a security camera at the mall. The center of the mall, Romanoff saw where Santa was holding court. Her expression softened when she saw that Peter and Tony were in the line, with Peter hanging back, nervously.

“Aww.”

“Yeah. He’s cute. And it took some convincing to get him to say hi to Santa.” He rolled his eyes, again. “He was worried Santa would be mad because he didn’t believe in him, before, and that he wouldn’t get anything.”

“What did he ask for?” she asked, curiously, watching as Peter whispered in Santa’s ear and the man nodded. “Did you hear?”

“No. The camera caught it, though – with a little amplification from JARVIS.”

They both watched as the scene rewound and this time the volume went up, a little.

“I want my dad’s watch back,” was the soft whisper. “And I never want to move, again…”

Romanoff looked at Tony.

“Awww…”

He nodded, and then – to her surprise – he smiled.

“I’ll work on the second one, but I was hoping you might be able to see what you could do about the watch.”

“Really?”

He frowned.

“You don’t think you’ll be able to track it down?” he asked, purposefully misunderstanding her shock. “I had JARVIS check inventory of all pawn shops – and videos of all displays. It isn’t there. You’re better at ferreting out secrets than I am.”

“Yeah. I’ll look into it.” She looked at the kitchen, and the ingredients and equipment that was strewn about the island and the counter. “Are you guys baking cookies?”

Tony nodded, smiling, and reached over to turn the display off when Peter’s bedroom door opened, and the boy and Steve came out. Peter was wearing a stocking cap, now, that had a poof ball on the top and was black and white stripes.

“We are,” he confirmed. “Stick around and you can be taste-testers when the first batch come out.”

“They’re chocolate chip,” Peter told her, climbing onto his chair and joining the conversation, easily. “Can you stay?”

Natasha looked at Steve, who shrugged.

“For a while,” he said, unable to resist Peter’s big brown eyes and hopeful expression. “But if it snows much more, we might end up being your guests until spring thaw.”

“That would be great!”

Tony rolled his eyes, tugging the stocking cap down over Peter’s face, blocking his eyes and nose. He smirked at Rogers, ignoring Natasha’s expression.

“You can stay for the first batch. Then you’re out of here – even if I have to hire an UBER sleigh.”

Chapter Text

They stayed a little longer than that, but even though Romanoff made have exaggerated a little and blizzard wasn't really what the weather conditions were like outside the warm and cozy apartment, the snow was coming down hard enough that Steve wanted to get on the road back to the compound before the roads started freezing and icing over. Tony packaged up a couple dozen of their fresh-baked cookies and sent them back with Natasha and Steve, who were told that they had to share them with the others.

Peter went to the door with them; he didn’t have a choice, since Natasha was carrying him. She hugged him, tightly, before finally setting him down.

“If you need anything, call me,” she told him. “JARVIS and Tony both have my number.”

“What if you’re busy?”

“Then leave a message.” She looked at Tony. “Are we doing Christmas morning, or Christmas Eve?”

“Christmas Eve, I think,” he said. “Then I can sleep in on Christmas.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at that and looked pointedly at the little boy.

“Good luck with that.”

A little kid on Christmas morning? Sleeping in wasn't an option. Tony just didn’t know that, yet.

Peter smiled, even though he didn’t understand the joke. It didn’t matter to him. He was excited that Christmas was coming. Not because of the gifts that most kids were looking forward to; he liked presents, of course, but as far as he was concerned, his room was filled with presents. He was excited because it meant that they’d have another fun day with all of the Avengers.

“Are we having turkey?”

Tony picked him up. Just because he wanted to hold him.

“No.” He looked at Natasha and Steve. “What’s the tradition for Christmas?”

He wanted to make things as traditional and perfect as he could for Peter’s first Christmas with him.

“Beats me,” Romanoff said with a shrug. “Ham?”

“Roast beef?” Steve suggested.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“And cookies,” Peter said, hopefully.

“Gotta have cookies,” Natasha agreed, putting on the light jacket she’d been wearing. “For Santa.”

“And me,” the boy added.

“And you,” she added, reaching out and tapping his nose, which made Tony smile, too.

Pffft. She was so mad about the little kid.

He looked at Peter, who was trying to reach Romanoff’s nose to tap her back, and he couldn’t help but be pleased at just how happy Peter looked.

“Drive safe,” Tony said to Steve as they left. He shifted his hold on the boy so he could shut the door. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

They’d made cookies, yes, but Tony had limited Peter to two. He had to finish his dinner, first – and because he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t bouncing off the walls later from all the sugar in his system.

“What do you want for dinner? Don’t say fast food.”

“Hot dogs.”

“Huh…” Tony carried the boy to the kitchen and set him in his chair. “With chili?”

“Yeah!”

“And onions?”

“No.”

“Cheese?”

“Yeah.”

“Broccoli?”

The boy made a face, but now his eyes were bright with happiness, since he realized that Tony was teasing him. Not the cruel way that some of the kids would occasionally be mean at the foster home, but in the friendly way that Peter had witnessed the billionaire act with some of the others – usually Rhodey. He shook his head, vehemently.

“No.”

“Just chili and cheese?”

“And chocolate chips?”

Now it was Tony who made the face.

“You want chocolate chips on your chili dogs?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

“That’s weird.” He shrugged, though, and reached out and tousled Peter’s hair. “But, yeah. You can. Not a lot, though.”

“Okay.”

The man shook his head and turned to open the fridge.

Kids were so weird. Even genius ones, apparently.

<><><>><>< 

When they were done eating – and Tony watched in awe as Peter ate his chilidog, chocolate chips and all – they cleaned up the dishes and wiped down the counters and the island. Then Tony sent Peter into his room to get ready for bed. It was getting late – especially for a little boy who had had a pretty long day – but when he came out of the bedroom, now dressed in pajamas and slippers on his feet, Peter was carrying a boardgame.

“Will you play with me, Tony?” he asked, hopefully.

Stark had planned on watching a movie, because he knew that would put Peter to sleep faster than anything active would, but he nodded, making a show of taking the box from him.

“Sorry, huh?”

“Do you know how to play?”

“I know how to read instructions,” Tony pointed out. “Let’s play in here, though, and not in the kitchen.”

The couch would be more comfortable for him, and Peter was young and flexible enough that he could sit on the floor on the other side of coffee table with a cushion and be fine. The boy nodded his agreement and was silent while he set up the game, and Tony read the instructions. Peter had obviously played, before.

“Want to be red?” he asked, holding the red pieces out to Tony.

“Of course.”

The game wasn't too complicated, and Tony had fun – although he was pretty ruthless when it came to trying to win. Luckily for Peter, most of it was the luck of the draw of the cards, so the boy had a better than even chance of coming out ahead when all was said and done. He managed to win the first game, but proved he was a good loser when Tony won, quickly in the next.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Stark said.

Peter looked up from the cards he was gathering up.

“I’m not tired, yet.”

“It was a long day,” Tony reminded him, picking up their pieces. “And I want to talk to you. But not until you’re in bed.”

The boy’s expression grew uncertain.

“Is it bad?”

“Not at all.” He hated that uncertainty, but knew that it wasn't going to magically vanish overnight. “I want to know how you feel about living here. To see if there’s anything that I should be doing. I’m new at the foster dad thing, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t answer, immediately,” Tony told him, putting the game aside and then standing and moving so he could pick Peter up. “I want you to think about it. Okay?”

“All right.”

Peter put his head on Tony’s shoulder as the man carried him into his bedroom, and did what he was told, considering his answer with all the care that he gave his usual school assignments. When Tony tucked him into his bed, he smiled, because he definitely was going to add that to the list of things that he liked.

“Comfortable?” Tony asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Peter nodded.

“I like living with you, Tony. So far there isn’t anything I don’t like about it.”

“You have enough toys?”

“Yes.”

“You’re okay with the food?”

A smile and another nod.

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t annoy you that I like picking you up and carrying you, sometimes? You’re not too old for that, are you? You can tell me if you are, though.”

“I like it. It makes me feel special.”

“Because you are special.”

“Because I’m smart?”

“No. Lots of kids are smart. I don’t like all of them. Only you.”

“Because I can stick to walls?”

Tony smiled at that.

“I like you. Not your abilities. You’re a great guy, Peter.”

The boy wrapped his arms around himself in happiness, and Tony saw the movement, even though Peter was covered with blankets.

“I like you, too, Tony.”

“Good.” He felt the sting of tears trying to burst out, and wiped his nose, impatiently. “So, if the others are coming Christmas eve, you should probably starting thinking about what you want to get them for Christmas.”

Lord knew they were almost certainly going to bury Peter in presents.

“I don’t have any money.” He hesitated. “I could figure out some odds for you, though,” Peter added. “Like I used to do for May. She would make a lot of money, sometimes, because of what I told her.”

Tony shook his head, forced to not smile.

“Or… we could not do that. I’m pretty sure the state would frown on me using you like that. Besides, you’re not going to need to resort to illegal gambling to have money.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope. You’ll get an allowance. That’s a thing, right?”

“I’ve never got an allowance, before.”

“But that was when you were seven. Eight-year-olds have a lot of responsibilities. So they should get an allowance.”

“What kind of responsibilities?”

“You have to make your own bed. And keep your bathroom clean, right?”

“Yes.”

Tony had already told him that there was a cleaning person who came out – but when Peter’s hands had clutched his backpack, a little, he’d been quick to assure the child that the woman who came was someone that had been working in the building for years, and was very honest.

“See? Those are responsibilities. And I’d say an allowance was in order – in case you want some spending money to buy something you want.”

He’d checked with JARVIS on what the average eight-year old should be getting and the AI had informed him that the norm was a dollar for each year of age. Which would set Peter up with $8 a week. Which would be fine if it was someone else’s kid. Tony wasn't going to limit himself like that.

“Oh. Wow. I can get Natasha a present, then. And Steve. And Clint. And Sam. And-“

“And everyone. Right.” Tony smiled to soften the interruption. “We won’t go this weekend,” he told the boy. “Because you need a chance to earn money. And I have no desire to fight the crowds that will be out this weekend. We’ll shoot for next weekend, though. Unless something comes up.”

“Okay.”

He smiled down at Peter.

“Anything else we need to discuss?”

“No.”

“Good. Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, buddy.”

“Night, Tony.”

Chapter Text

The billionaire left, closing the door behind him, and Peter rolled over onto his side to look at the door, even as the lights faded.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“What should I get Tony for Christmas?”

“That is a difficult question to answer,” the AI told him.

“Because he’s rich and doesn’t need anything?”

“There are plenty of things that he needs,” JARVIS disagreed. “But he will never admit them, most likely. Not even to himself. Some are things that you can give him without realizing it. Others are things that are too complicated for him to understand, so you would have difficulty comprehending them, also.”

“What can I give him?” Peter asked, confused.

It was like one of his teachers that he had when he was still living with May. She would answer any question that he asked her, but it was always making more questions, really. That had been the philosophy class, and he’d been glad when it ended.

Peter liked answers that were black and white, not shaded with a lot of mystic nuances that made his head hurt.

“Let me make a suggestion,” came the response.

“Okay.”

“You’ve known him for a while, now, and have had a chance to observe him – somewhat. Now that you’re living with him, you’ll be spending more time with him. It will provide you with more opportunities to learn about him. What he likes and what he enjoys. That might give you more insight into what he might want for Christmas.”

“Oh.”

That sounded complicated. Peter liked to solve problems, but he didn’t know anything about people.

Maybe he’d buy him a trainset, or something. They were pretty neat, after all.

“Go to sleep, Peter,” JARVIS told him. And now the lights were off, completely. “It isn’t a question you can answer, immediately.”

He closed his eyes, but he was awake for a long time, mulling over the question – as well as what all of the others might like. He didn’t know what Tony had in mind for allowance, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't going to be enough to buy something for everyone. It worried him, because he didn’t want to be forced to decide who got a good present, and who got something that he might try to make by hand. His parents used to tell him that they loved getting the handwritten and homemade cards and drawings that he made them, but they were his parents, and they were supposed to lie to him to make him feel better about himself, he knew.

He could do some research, though, and maybe go online and see if there was anything that someone like him could do to make something that someone as great as Natasha, or even Nick, would like.

“JARVIS?” his voice sounded loud in the silence of his bedroom.

“Yes?”

“Would you remind me later to ask Tony if I could have some art stuff? Paper? Markers? That kind of thing?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Go to sleep.”

Peter closed his eyes, again, but this time his long day caught up to him and overwhelmed his hectic mind, and he fell asleep.

><><><><> 

“Peter would like some arts and craft paraphernalia.”

Tony nodded, not even startled by the voice of his AI after so many years, now.

“Order whatever you think he’d want,” Stark said. “Have it rushed so it’s here as soon as possible. Is he alright?”

“He is wondering what he should get you for Christmas.”

Stark smiled, and turned off his tablet – which was open to a website that gave suggestions for gift ideas for children.

“He isn’t the only one. I should have held off a little when I stocked his room. Now I need to figure out something amazing to top what he already has access to.”

“He’s a little boy,” JRVIS reminded Tony. “He doesn’t need more than what he already has – and he definitely prefers your company over any of the toys in his room.”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Tony asked, smiling and shaking his head. “Because I feel the same way about him.”

“Quite the coincidence, sir,” JARVIS said, and Tony thought that his tone was smug – although he knew it couldn’t be. “You should go to bed.”

“I have things to work on, and some research to do.”

“All of which will wait until tomorrow. You’ll want to be refreshed in case Peter requests an outing.”

“Is it still snowing?”

“Yes.”

“Then the only outing we’d be able to make is by sled dog.”

He did what he was told, though, and went to bed, rather than staying up half the night as was usual for him.

Just in case Peter really did want to go somewhere, the next day.

“Wake me if he needs me.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He stopped at Peter’s room, though, and opened the door to peek in and check on him. The boy was asleep, and Tony smiled as he crossed the bedroom and looked down on him. With gentle care, Stark pulled the blankets back up where they’d shifted, tucking them around him. It was cold outside, but the bedroom was warm.

Still… he wanted him to sleep, comfortably.

Then he went to bed, closing the door once more behind him.

><><><<><> 

“So how did it go?”

Tony leaned back in his chair, feeling smug and even content. His expression was enough to make Pepper smile.

“It was good. Some of the others came over for dinner on Thanksgiving, we filled him full of turkey and Nick convinced him Santa was real.”

“Nick did?”

“Yup. So, of course, we had to go find a Christmas tree, and stuff to decorate it with.”

“You two are getting along?” she asked, looking surprised and pleased, both. He looked as cheerful as she could ever remember seeing him. “He’s not driving you to distraction?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” Tony reminded her. “I expect once he feels more confident about our living arrangements, he’ll start to loosen up a little more. Maybe run amok, or something. Of course, Nick has a SHIELD agent assigned to him while he’s at school, and I’ll be watching him when he’s here – and at home – so he’ll be reined in fairly well.”

“A SHIELD agent?” she repeated. “In case someone decides you like him, and makes a play for him, to exchange for a ransom?”

Proving she wasn't stupid.

“Exactly.”

“Is there a lot of concern that that will happen?”

“Not too much,” he said, shrugging. “You know how Romanoff and Fury are, though.”

She did.

“So this is going to work, then? The foster dad thing? You like it?”

He seemed to be enjoying it. But then, he’d only done it a weekend.

“I like him.”

“Good.”

“And you should be aware, you’re invited to Christmas eve.”

Pepper smiled at that.

“Oh?”

“Yes. And don’t say you’re not coming, because Peter is excited by the idea, and he’s going to personally invite you. So good luck resisting his big brown eyes.”

“I’ve resisted yours for years…”

“He’s a lot nicer than I am, though.”

Her expression softened.

“You’re doing okay.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded.

“May I make a suggestion, though?”

“Yes.”

Of course she could. Tony was well aware that she was smarter than he was.

“How much time – since he’s moved in with you – has he spent with children his own age?”

“None,” Tony admitted “Unless you count standing in line waiting to see Santa.”

“You took him to see Santa?”

“Yep.”

“Awww.” The softly uttered noise made Tony roll his eyes, but he was pleased that it made her smile, too. With one stroke he’d made Pepper happy, as well as Peter. “Did he get a picture?”

“Yes.” He’d had JARVIS scan it, immediately, and it was officially part of his network. The display on his desk came alive and an image of little Peter sitting on the lap of a jolly older man in a Santa suit came up. The boy’s smile was happy, and he was looking at the camera. “I’ll have JARVIS send it to you, if you want.”

“Thank you. So, my suggestion. He needs time with kids his age. Hanging out with you and other adults – no matter how much they like him – isn’t going to give him the socialization that he needs.”

“I didn’t hang out with a bunch of kids my age,” Tony pointed out. “And look at me.”

Her expression changed to that one that he knew so well, but luckily, she let that comment slide.

“The tower has a daycare.”

“It does?”

“Yes. You signed off on creating it two years ago.”

Which meant that she’d set it up and used her authority as his assistant to make it happen without asking.

“Oh. That was nice of me.”

“People work better and more efficiently if they know their children are safe and being taken well care of. Productivity and morale has skyrocketed – and we’re actually doing well because of it.”

“Alright. But you think I should let Peter go there?”

“He comes in after school to do his homework. Is there any reason he couldn’t come from school, say hello to you and check in – maybe have a snack so you can ask about his day – and then have him go to daycare until you’re ready to go home? He could play with children his own age – and then, later, you can help him with his homework and get some time with him.”

“He doesn’t usually need my help.”

“Then he can do his and you can work on whatever project you might have going.”

“It’d be good for him?”

“I think so. There are several children his age enrolled. Even geniuses need playdates, sometimes.”

“I’ll ask him, today.”

“Good. I’ll set it up, and you can take him down to meet Ella before the end of the day. She’s the director.”

“If he agrees,” Stark added. “I’m not going to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“He’ll agree.”

Chapter Text

It was a much happier boy that entered Tony’s office after school that day than had the last time, when he’d told the billionaire about being moved from Eric’s. Tony was at his desk, but he knew Peter was heading his way, since JARVIS kept track of the boy for him. Peter went to his desk, putting his backpack down.

“Hi, Tony.”

“Hey, buddy. How was school?”

“Good. Maria is neat.”

The SHIELD agent who would be primary for Peter’s outside protection. Specifically chosen by Nick and Natasha. She had been at the apartment to pick Peter up to transport him to school, and after very carefully making sure she was truly the person she was claiming to be, Tony had told Peter to have a good day and that he’d see him after school in his office.

Agent Hill had spent the school day wandering the halls of Peter’s school, talking to the administrators and the school’s resource officer, as well and peeking in and checking on Peter every fifteen minutes. The boy wasn't aware, since he was doing his normal school activities, but she was diligent.

“I’m glad. Before you get busy, I wanted to talk to you about something Pepper thought of…”

No sense in taking the blame if Peter hated the idea, after all.

“Okay.” Peter waited to see if Tony was going to get up to come to him, and then walked over to his desk. He came around to the side where the man was, and Tony smiled. God, he was adorable. “Is it bad?”

Tony shook his head.

“Do you think Pepper would ever think of something bad?”

“No.”

“No. Of course not. There’s a daycare here in the tower, and she – that is, we – thought you might like going there after school, instead of coming to my office.”

“You don’t want me to be here?”

There was no recrimination in the child’s expression. Just uncertainty.

“I want what’s best for you,” Tony told him. “And since I get to see you all the time, it might be a good thing for you to hang out with other kids when you’re done with school. That way you can play with them.”

“What about my homework?”

“It’s called homework for a reason,” Tony pointed out. “It should be done at home. The only reason we weren’t, is because I wanted you to come here so I could see you five days a week. Now that I get to see you every day, I’m willing to share you. A little. Sometimes with the Avengers and sometimes with other little kids.”

“Daycare is for babies.”

“Nope. For once, you’re wrong. It’s for kids to hang out, together, and play, and socialize. And have fun while their parents are working. We could go take a look,” he suggested. “You don’t have to go, but I want you to at least look at the place before you say you don’t want to. Fair?”

Peter hesitated. He was still stuck on the way Tony had phrased it. It was a place to have fun while their parents were working. He didn’t have parents, now, but he knew foster dad was a stand in parent. It made his stomach hurt to think of Tony as a dad to him. A good hurt, though. An ache that he hadn’t felt before.

“It doesn’t have to be today,” Tony told him, misinterpreting the hesitation. “You can think about it. I promised you that you would have a say in thing, remember.”

“No.” Peter leaned on Tony’s knee, looking up at him. It wasn't asking much, really, and he was so nice to Peter. “You’ll come?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Tony stood up, scooping the boy into his arms for a moment, and hugging him.

“Did I tell you that I’m glad to see you?”

Peter smiled and shook his head.

“No. I’m happy to see you.”

“So am I.” Another squeeze, and he set the boy on his feet, and then offered him his hand. “Come on. We’re going to meet Ella.”

“Okay.”

><><><><>><> 

The daycare occupied a large section of the third floor, but there were only two access points to get to it. This was done on purpose, to make certain that the only people who mingled with the children there were parents or staff. Because of that, there was a security person at the door, next to the large desk that people would check in at when picking up or dropping off their children.

Peter held back when they reached the door, once more getting shy at the idea of meeting someone new. Many someones, really, because there were a lot of kids in the room beyond the first door. The room was bright, and the walls were painted in cheerful colors. Some of the children were playing with blocks, or Legos, building things and others were running around playing all kinds of games. All seemed to be having fun. There were dozens of activities going on at once, all tailored to the age of the children doing it, and several adults were watching, or participating, as well.

A woman came to greet them, smiling at Tony, first but then looking down at Peter with a warm smile. She was older and graying, but her mannerism was kind as she studied the boy who was peeking out at her from behind Tony’s leg.

“You must be Peter.”

He nodded, putting his arm around Tony’s leg, but leaning away from him a little in response to her kindness.

“Peter’s shy, sometimes,” Tony said, unnecessarily. “But he’s a fun little guy.”

“I can tell.” Her eyes never left Peter. “I’m Ella.”

“Hi.”

“Why don’t we show you around?”

Ella had already spoken with Tony, so she knew Peter’s history (although not his special abilities) and Tony had – of course – looked into her background, immediately. She was a children’s education major from long ago, a retired teacher, and a mother of four and grandmother of three. Her employment and personal backgrounds were spotless – not surprising, since Pepper wouldn’t have hired anyone less than perfect to watch over the daycare, Tony knew. He’d liked her, immediately, even though his first thought when he’d heard retired teacher was Marples. Someone he hoped Peter didn’t associate with the other woman, because the two couldn’t be any different as far as personalities.

Peter hesitated, but there was no impatience when she put her hand out, offering it to him.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’m going to be here, too.”

Tony didn’t want to distract the older kids who would almost certainly recognize him from their fun, and he didn’t want the other children to know his relationship with Peter, if it wasn't necessary. That way they would be friends with him, just to be friends with him. There wouldn’t be jealousy or any kind of butt kissing.

Peter took the hand that was being offered, and looked around as he was led into the room. Some of the kids were running by, laughing, and it made him smile, too. They wouldn’t be laughing if they weren’t enjoying themselves, right? And no one was telling them they were being too noisy, either.

“We have fourteen children your age – or within a year up, or down,” Ella told him. “They all go to different schools, for the most part, but they get to see each other almost every day, here, so they can play together and have fun. What do you like to do?”

Peter shrugged, craning his head to see what a girl was drawing at a table they walked past. She smiled at him, and showed him, wordlessly. It was a picture of a chimney with Santa and his reindeer on the roof beside it.

“I like to do science.”

“Like building things?” she prodded, wanting to give him a chance to open up and relax at the same time. “Like an engineer?”

He nodded.

“Like Tony.”

That made both adults smile, and Stark feel a little gooey inside. He watched the boy as they walked through the various rooms that made up the daycare. There was a play room, and a nap room, and a movie room. These were being utilized by children as old as eleven, which he was told was the oldest allowed at this particular area. There was another section that was for teens, and a nursery for babies and toddlers.

There was even a kitchen, where lunches were made for the children who were there all day, and snacks for all of the others. Small children sized tables and chairs were neatly scattered for them to use – although right now they were empty.

“What do you think?” Tony asked when they finished the tour and found themselves back at the activity room, once more. “Looks like it might be fun.”

Peter nodded.

“Maybe.”

“Are you interested in trying it?”

“I don’t have to stay if I don’t like it?”

“Not if you don’t want to. You just tell Ella to have someone call me, and I’ll come. But I want you to give it a try. A real try. That way we know. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Starting tomorrow?” Tony asked Ella, just as a couple of boys ran by, laughing.

“I can’t start, today?” Peter asked, making the two adults smile.

“Of course, you can,” Ella said. She waved at the boys, who came over, immediately. “Peter? This is Gabriel and Jonah. Guys? This is Peter. He’s new. Let him see what you’re doing and see if it’s something he might want to do, too.”

The taller of the two nodded, agreeably, looking at Peter, speculatively.

“How old are you?” he asked as they walked off, heading for the corner where they’d been running to when they’d been called.

“Eight.”

“My age, then,” the smaller said. “Gabe’s ten. But he’s fun.”

Tony couldn’t hear Peter’s reply, and he turned to Ella, who looked pleased.

“If he needs anything, call me.”

“We’ll try to work it out, first,” she told him, walking with him to the door. “That way we can work on problem solving and interactions. If it’s serious, though, we’ll definitely call.”

“Fair enough. I’ll come collect him at five-thirty.”

Feeling comfortable with leaving his little guy with her and the other kids, Tony left.

“Do I keep an eye on him?” JARVIS asked as Stark passed an interactive display.

One of many in the building.

“Of course.”

He wasn't being over-protective, he told himself as he headed for the elevators and his office. He was just being thorough.

Chapter Text

“You put him in daycare?”

Tony rolled his eyes at the way Steve said it. Like it was jail, or something.

“Yes. It’s right here in the building and this way there are other kids for him to play with after school.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“He’s been going for a week, now, and he likes it.”

“What about his schoolwork?”

“He does it with me, after dinner. At home.”

That was working well, too.

Peter would be delivered to Tony’s office after school by Maria Hill, who Peter apparently liked. Since it was after the scheduled snack time at the daycare, Tony would be waiting with some kind of treat on his desk. He and Peter would talk about how their respective days were going while they shared cookies, or something else. Then Tony would take him to the daycare, personally, where Peter was always greeted with smiles from the kids – and the staff.

The boy would run off to play, and Tony would remind whoever was watching over the security desk that he was only a call away if he were needed.

So far, though, he hadn’t been needed.

He’d pick Peter up when it was time to go home, and they would make dinner, and eat, and then Peter would pull out his backpack, and would work on his homework while Tony was close by working on whatever project he had going on. Which at the moment was a new version of the Ironman suit. Then, he’d check the boy’s work to make sure it was right – which it usually was – and they’d spend  the time until bedtime watching a movie, or playing boardgames, or with Legos and other toys. Tony would remind Peter to brush his teeth – or point out that he was probably due a bath – and when Peter was ready for bed, it was Tony who tucked him into his blankets with a smile.

“And he’s doing alright?”

“He’s great, Steve. Stop worrying.”

That was his job, but so far, so good.

“What are you getting him for Christmas?”

“Stuff.”

Tony was still working on that.

“Don’t get him a bicycle. I did.”

Ugh.

“Fine. I’ll take it off my list.”

“Or a train set,” Steve told him. “Clint found one for his boy and got two so Peter could have one, as well.”

Seriously?

Stark forced down the annoyed noise that was sounding off in his head.

 “No train. Got it.”

“Fury got him a giant Jenga game. It’s made out of Nerf material, or something, so no worries about blocks falling on his head.”

“Anything else…?” he asked, wondering how he was supposed to give the best gift when the others were already buying them. “What did Sam get him?”

“He’s looking for a ballpit, I think.”

“I’m not putting a ballpit in Peter’s bedroom.”

“In the living room?”

“No.”

Rogers shrugged.

“I suppose we can put it out here, for when he comes to visit.”

“Good choice.”

There was plenty more room at the compound.

“Alright. I need to go follow up on a few things.”

“Where’s Romanoff?” Tony asked. “What did she get Peter?”

“She’s working on it,” Steve assured him. “But that’s all she’s telling me.”

“Huh. That’s about right.”

She held things pretty tight to her vest when she could, after all.

“Tell Peter I said hi, and we’ll see him next weekend.”

“He’s looking forward to it.”

They were going to take the boy up to a ski lodge and spend the weekend sledding. Christmas vacation began that weekend, and it had been Rhodey who pointed out that a lot of the ski resorts had sledding hills and that it might be fun to do a road trip with the boy and take him on an overnight. Tony hadn’t said no, immediately, and Peter had been pretty excited at the idea, turning and looking at Stark with an expression so hopeful that he couldn’t say no.

While they were gone, Stark intended for some present to appear under their tree. There were a few, but nothing big, yet. It kept the thing from looking too bare, though. He just needed to decide what to get a kid that already had a lot more than he’d ever had in his life.

The call ended and he looked at his watch. He had a half an hour before he needed to go get the boy from the daycare.

“Bring up that screen, again, JARVIS,” Tony told his AI. “I want to get this figured out.”

It wasn't a project, though. At least not a Stark or Avenger related problem. The site that came up was a toy store, and Tony began flipping through the inventory, waiting for something to reach out and grab him.

><><>>><< 

The man had a number of names, depending on who he was talking to – or who was looking for him. The name he used the most was Martin, because it was the name of a character from one of his favorite movies. He wished that his parents had actually named him that, really, and it was default for him by the time he was twenty-five.

He was lean and tough, and fairly ruthless. He had a veritable network of underlings who worked for him. People who were common enough to look at, but were willing to steal anything from anyone in the hopes that Martin would pay them something for it. If it was worth anything, Martin invariably bought it. For much less than it was worth, though, in order to make the biggest profit that he could when he inevitably sold it to a pawn shop, or a dealer – if the item was expensive enough.

The profit margins were big enough to keep him well fed and clothed to drive a fancy car and live in a nice place, but small enough that he stayed off the radar of any actual syndicates. People who would view him as competition and want to remove him – permanently.

His home was an actual house. Well guarded with a top of the line security system and with a couple of thugs who were related to him and completely loyal to him. The loot that was brought to him was stored at the house in a secure vault until any police reports or searches for the item might blow over and all alerts were off. Then they were taken out in batches and sold to a number of places in order to keep anything from being able to be traced back to anyone in his group.

It was a slick operation, and he liked the feeling that he got every time he opened his bank’s app and saw the profits that were adding up over the years.

Secure in the knowledge that he was safe from the police, and safe from the mob or anyone dangerous like that, Martin slept well at night, and the loaded Smith and Wesson that was in the stand by his bed was mainly just out of habit. No one could get by his guards. No one could get through his security.

He was untouchable.

Until someone proved that he wasn't.

The night was the same as it was almost every night. He ate dinner; sometimes alone, sometimes with his cousins, and personally looked over the inventory that he’d received that day in order to check dates, and what the going price for that item was at the time. Another reason to wait to sell something, really. To make sure that you sold it when the price was the highest.

He hadn’t graduated, but he knew about supply and demand.

Then, he’d locked the vault and had had a nightcap and had gone to bed.

Sometime in the middle of the night a very soft voice woke him. A voice that definitely didn’t belong.

“Wake up, Sunshine, it’s time to pay the piper.”

His eyes flew open at the obvious threat, but as he started to sit up two things caught his attention, immediately. One was that something sharp was pressed lightly against his neck, just under his right jaw. The other was that the person in his bedroom was slight, and dressed all in non-descript black leather. A woman. One who was dark-skinned and had blue eyes that were cold as they assessed him in the near dark.

He froze, eyes wide with shock more than fear, wondering how she’d managed to get by his safeguards.

“Who are you?”

She smiled, but those cold eyes didn't look amused.

“I’m the piper, of course.”

Chapter Text

“What… what do you want? Where’s-“

“You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” the woman told him, cutting him off – but not cutting him, luckily. “And I want it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Of course, pretty much everything in the house either didn’t belong to him or was paid for by selling something that didn’t belong to him.

“No. I know. But we’re going to find it,” she replied. “Or I’m going to carve the value of it from your hide.” She pulled the knife away from his neck and took a step back. “Get up.”

There were a lot of things that he could do. He could toss the blankets at her, hoping to tangle her in it or to maybe startle her long enough for him to overcome her, or get his gun and kill her. He could yell for help – which was embarrassing, but was better than the present alternative. All of them – and more – went through his mind, but he was too frozen to actually act on any of them. And she exuded deadly intent.

Instead, he tried to talk his way out of whatever was going on.

“You’re in the wrong house…” he said, shakily.

The knife vanished, and he looked half shocked that it seemed to be working. He’d expected someone who seemed as stealthy and dangerous as she was to be smarter than that. Stupid woman. Whoever sent her should have sent a man…

She pulled a different blade, then. This one wasn't blackened like the previous. It was gleaming in the light from the bathroom nightlight. It was curved and deadly-looking.

“Know what this is?”

“A knife…”

“A gelding knife. Do I start taking my pound of flesh below the belt? Or are you going to get up and take me to your trove?”

“Who are you?” he asked, again, feeling his testicles try to vanish into his belly at the threat.

“Last chance.” She brandished the blade and took a menacing step forward.

“No!” Martin held up a hand and tossed the blankets – carefully – aside. “I’ll take you to my stuff. But you’re wasting your time. I don’t have what you’re looking for.”

She was way too good to be the lackey of someone low-level and he didn’t have anything on the premises that would attract the attention of anyone who could afford her services. On purpose.

“My intelligence says that you’re wrong,” was the reply. “I hope, for your sake, that you’re wrong. It took me a long time to track what I’m looking for, and I’m frustrated and annoyed. You don’t want me to take that out on you.”

As he proved that he was willing to cooperate – whether he wanted to or not, really – she took a step back and the knife disappeared, replaced by a handgun with a silencer. He didn’t miss the action.

“I don’t have anything worth killing me over,” he told her, reaching for his pants and wishing that the gun was in a pocket. “Jesus…”

She didn’t reply. Her eyes watched his every move, though, as he slipped on his pants and moved carefully toward the door. The question of where his bodyguard/cousins were was answered, immediately. Both men were laid out in the living room as they walked through it. One had been eating chips and was still holding the bag, but he appeared to be lifeless. The other was slumped on the couch, a small trickle of blood going down his cheek.

“Did you kill them? They-“

“They’re not dead,” she said, coldly. “Getting rid of bodies is annoying, and I only have enough room in my trunk for one.”

He shivered.

“What are you looking for?” he asked as he led her to the vault. “I’m not being smart, or anything,” he added, quickly. “I just have it catalogued and could find it faster.”

She didn’t look all that grateful, but she nodded.

“A Zippo lighter with a diamond on it. A ruby pendant with an Irish maker’s mark. A man’s wristwatch. And a one of a kind Magic the Gathering card – from a green deck.”

He frowned.

“Seriously?”

“Find them for me.”

She didn’t go into the vault as he hoped that she would. Instead she waited, watching as he pulled the drawer that had all of the Zippos – wondering how the hell she knew he had any. Lighters were something that were collectible, of course, and very much in demand from a number of people. The ones that he had were some of the nicest, going for several thousand dollars each. The one she wanted was worth even more, because of the jewel. He grabbed it and pocketed it, then searched through another drawer for the pendant, which was easy enough since he didn’t deal in fine jewelry often. The Magic the Gathering card was another oddity, but he only had one and he reluctantly put that in his pocket, careful not to bend it.

“I have a dozen wristwatches,” he told her, opening the drawer for the last item.

“It’s the third one from the right.”

Since he was blocking her view of his inventory he turned, surprised, but the gun was pointed right at him and he knew she wasn't going to tell him how she knew which was where in the drawer. He pulled the one she was referring to, uncertainly, since the one beside it was actually a Rolex and worth a lot more than the cheap one he had in his hand.

“This one?” he verified.

“That’s the one. Put everything in a bag and toss it to me.”

“You’ll damage the card and ruin its value.”

“Do it.”

 He did as he was told and carefully – very carefully – tossed the bag her direction. The woman caught it, easily, her gaze never wavering from his.

“You got what you wanted,” he said, trying to throw in bravado since she had what she wanted. “Now what?”

“Now you’re going to call the police and tell them you’ve been robbed and that you need someone out here.”

“What? No. I don’t want anyone-“

“You call, or I will. If I do, it’ll be because you’re in no condition to…”

“Jesus, lady. Who sent you?”

“Are you going to make the call?”

“I left my phone upstairs.”

“You can use mine.” She tossed a phone to him and he caught it, reflexively. “911,” she reminded him. “Tell them someone has you at gunpoint, that way the police come faster.”

The woman didn’t have any mercy in those cold eyes of hers, and it showed. She was literally forcing him to call the police out to his own home – which automatically gave them permission to enter without a warrant. When they did, they were going to find everything.

He was going to be ruined.

“Come on… Let’s talk this over…”

“Do I start counting?”

“Shit.”

He looked down and dialed the phone.

><><><><><>< 

The SUV was parked a good half mile from the house, and police cars were speeding by, lights on and sirens wailing, when the rear door opened, startling Sam and Steve, both.

“Damn, woman,” Wilson said, holding a hand dramatically over his heart. “Knock, first, or something.”

Romanoff smirked, and her hand came up, pulling off the black wig even as her features blurred and the mesh netting that had been her disguise deactivated, as well, revealing her true face. Which was amused.

“You knew I was on the way.”

She’d walked Martin to his bedroom after he’d made his call and had tied his hands to the headboard, to keep him from activating anything that might conceal his vault. The police were going to search through the house, find the knocked out thugs, the vault and anything else that might be lying around – and then find Martin in his room trussed up, neatly, for their convenience.

“Getting rid of bodies is annoying, and I only have enough room in my trunk for one?” Steve said, incredulously. “Could you have come up with something cheesier? I thought I was watching a bad gangster movie.”

Sam chuckled, though.

“It was great. You don’t use all your good lines on small time crooks, after all.”

Romanoff smiled, opening the bag and pulling out the wristwatch that had once belonged to Peter’s father.

“Nicely done, Nat,” Steve told her, approvingly. “Should we take it over, tonight?”

She shook her head, her smile growing.

“No. I have a better idea. Let’s keep this between ourselves, for now.”

Both men shrugged, and Steve started the SUV.

They were done skulking in the dark. For tonight, anyway.

“What are you going to do with that other junk?” Sam asked, knowing that Natasha hadn’t singled out the watch, alone, to make sure there was no way to know that she had only been after the watch. She’d wiped out the security system and the guards hadn’t even seen her. She wasn't going to risk someone being smart enough to realize that the watch was the target and trace back to who it belonged to, originally. “It’s probably worth something to the right people.”

“I know who they belong to, as well,” she assured him, putting her seatbelt on. “I’ll have them mailed off from somewhere in Europe, anonymously.”

“Good plan.”

Another police car zoomed by, even as they turned onto the road that led back toward the compound.

Chapter Text

“No daycare today,” Tony announced when Peter came into his office carrying his backpack.

“What? Why not?”

Tony liked that he seemed to want to go – it spoke well of Ella and the staff, as well as the children Peter played with when he was there.

“Because we need to leave, and go to the mall – and we’re going to need as much time as we can get.”

“Why?”

“Christmas shopping. I want to have all our shopping done before the weekend.” He set Peter up on his desk, and helped him take his backpack off. “I sat down with JARVIS this morning in between meetings, and we figured out your allowance.” He handed the boy a VISA card. “This is prepaid and ready to be used to buy the others whatever you think they want.”

“Wow.”

The boy looked it over, carefully.

“Don’t lose it,” Tony cautioned. “It has a thousand dollars on it.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“A thousand dollars?”

“Yup. Allowance for the last couple of weeks – and for the next several ahead. I decided you needed an advance so you wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to get everyone something. Is that alright?”

Stark did everything big, really, and yeah, maybe a thousand dollars was a lot. But it was Peter, and he was who he was and he had a lot of money and only one Peter Parker, right? Who else would he blow the money on?

“Yeah.” Peter looked at the card, again. “Wow.”

“Put it in your pocket,” Tony told him. “Then let’s get going. Remember, we have to wrap everything that we buy.”

><><><><> 

It was well after Peter’s bedtime by the time they returned to the apartment. Tony opened the door, gratefully, and even Peter’s boundless energy had taken a hit, but he was still happy and cheerful as he watched the two valet attendants pile the gaily wrapped packages onto the coffee table and the sofa. Tony tipped them both, and they left, and then he turned to Peter.

“Go get ready for bed, buddy. Then come out and help me put these under the tree.”

“Okay.”

The boy had already taken his coat off, but he carried it into his room with him and Tony smiled as he watched him go.

The mall had been bustling, of course. There were people everywhere, doing the same thing that he and Peter were doing; trying to get everything done before the weekend, when it was a given that the crowds would swell even further for that last rush before Christmas. Tony and Peter had gone from store to store, looking for presents for the others.

Tony wasn't used to doing that. When he handed out gifts – not something that he normally did, really – they were presents that had been bought by an assistant. If not Pepper, then perhaps one of the interns with good taste. And better sense than Tony. Now, though, with Peter’s hand firmly in his own as they walked, he found himself trying to decide if Romanoff would be offended by a womanly Christmas present, or if it was safe to get her some jewelry or a sexy dress that he knew she’d be smoking in. And would Rhodey be annoyed if he got him a tie? Or would he like a bottle of rare whiskey, better?

Peter didn’t have any problem picking out presents for everyone.

Of course, he was eight, and despite his intelligence, he was still a little kid. The presents that he chose reflected that. Sam was going to receive a spy kit that he found in the toy store. Steve was going to get a basketball – a red, white, and blue one, Peter decided. He could play with it in the gym even when it was raining out. Or snowing. Tony smirked when Peter pointed out a pirate play set and asked if Tony thought Nick would like it.

“He’d love it,” Tony assured him, already anticipating Nick’s reaction when he opened that particular present on Christmas.

An archery set for Clint was an easy decision, and a bag of little green army men for Rhodey. He watched as Tony examined the dress that he finally decided would probably be inappropriate for Romanoff, and then said that if Tony wasn't going to get it for her, could he? Another smirk of amusement and they were soon at the counter handing it to the salesclerk with Tony’s own purchases.

Then, once they had picked out something for everyone – including Pepper, Peter reminded him – they went back to a few of the shops and found extra presents for them – so they’d have a lot of gifts to open. He also picked out a gift for the Tatro’s home, allowing Tony to help him find a gift that could be useful for everyone, to avoid making them buy something for each person there.

They stopped for a bite to eat at the food court, and then Tony decided that rather than try to wrap everything themselves, it would save them a lot of time if they had the professional wrappers at the end of the corridor in the mall do it for them.

Even that had been fun for the boy, because he was the one who picked what paper each would be wrapped in. They were careful to keep everything labeled and they had fun spending time together, but Tony was definitely relieved when they pulled into the parking area of the apartment building.

“It’s been a long time since I had to put so many presents under a Christmas tree,” he told Peter when the boy came out of his room, now dressed in pajamas. Try never, really. Not even when he was little. “How would you suggest we do it? By name? Or color of the package?”

“Big ones in the back is how my mom and dad did it when I was little…”

Tony smiled, but he nodded rather than let Peter think he was being condescending. Because the boy was so old, now.

“You’re more flexible,” he said, instead. “I’ll hand them to you and you arrange them to your liking.”

There were already a few gifts under there; most were for Peter, but one was a coffee mug that the boy had made for Tony as an art project at daycare. He’d been so excited to wrap it and put it under the tree, and had smiled, happily, while the billionaire fondled the package and tried to figure out what was in it. Peter was small enough that he had plenty of room to move around as Tony handed him gifts until the pile was gone from the sofa and table and they were all under the tree.

He sat down with a tired sigh.

“JARVIS, turn on the lights.”

The tree came alive with blinking white lights and Peter moved out from beside it, since now there was very little rom under it. The boy went over to sit beside Tony, and Stark put an arm around him, automatically, pulling him up against his side. Peter went willingly, just as automatically, and leaned against him.

“It’s pretty.”

“It is,” Tony agreed. He smiled. “And so domestic. Who’d have thunk?”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, curiously, looking up at him.

“Nothing. Just being weird.” His smile never faded, though. “We’ll sit here and admire our handy work for a while, but then bedtime. Yes?”

“Yeah.”

He was pretty tired.

Shopping was harder than he thought it’d be.

><><><><> 

“Tony…?”

The voice was soft, but Stark didn’t sleep so soundly that anyone would need to shout in his ear to wake him. And he hadn’t gone to bed buzzed or drunk in what seemed like ages. His eyes popped open, sleepily, and he found himself looking at Peter, who was standing beside his bed, head and shoulders barely high enough to be seen.

Peter’s eyes were sad – they were, sometimes, Tony knew, but had been a lot more cheerful, lately. Now, though, they held a haunted look that Tony knew well. From his own experiences, not from anything Peter had told him.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?”

“I was wondering… does your suit have a parachute?”

“What?” Tony rubbed his eyes, looking at the time.

It was almost four am.

“Does your suit have a parachute?”

“No.”

“What if you fall?”

“I don’t fall. JARVIS keeps my systems running, and that includes the boosters.”

“What if something happened and JARVIS stopped working?” Peter pressed. “Then what?”

“Well… he’d reboot, and then I’d be able to catch myself and stop falling.”

“But if it wasn't in time…?”

Tony sat up.

“You’re worried about me falling?”

Peter nodded.

“Yes.”

The billionaire patted the space on the bed beside him, and Peter took the invitation, climbing up and settling near at hand, but still looking at him. Those eyes were filled with worry, and even Tony Stark wasn't immune to it.

“Then I’ll have JARVIS help me design a parachute. Or some kind of failsafe. Just in case. What do you think?”

Peter leaned into him, feeling a surge of relief that made his eyes sting.

“That would be good.”

“Yeah. But nothing too obvious,” Tony added, yawning, as he tucked his blankets around Peter and settled into his pillows, again. “Can’t look like it’s a concern. They’d take away my superhero membership card.”

“Is that really a thing?”

Tony chuckled.

“I could make it a thing.” He kissed the top of Peter’s head. “Go to sleep, alright?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t pee my bed.”

That made the boy smile, as Tony had hoped it would.

“I won’t.”

He closed his eyes and was asleep again almost immediately, comforted.

Tony lay awake for a while longer. He’d had his own bad dreams, lately, and they didn’t have anything to do with him falling. But they did revolve around someone – somehow – taking Peter from him and putting him in a different foster home. He didn’t think it could happen, but there was really only one way to make sure it didn’t.

He’d talk to Pepper, tomorrow, while Peter was at school. She’d know what he needed to do.

“JARVIS?” he whispered, softly. “Start looking into different prototypes for a parachute – or something similar – to add to my suit.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter Text

“What?”

Stark shrugged, not at all defensive about the disbelief in her tone – or her expression.

“You heard me.”

“That’s a serious commitment, Tony…”

“I know, Pep.” His expression grew a little distant, and his eyes were gentle. He looked peaceful, she decided. Not something she’d ever really seen from him, before. “He could use some stability in his life.”

“From you?” She asked, bluntly. Of course, it was her job to keep him from making mistakes and doing anything too reckless that might have serious repercussions, so he wasn't surprised. “You’re not that stable, yourself, really.”

“I’m doing better,” Stark said, reaching for his tablet. “You haven’t had a scandal with my name on it in months, now.”

“True. But still… it’s a life-changing event. Are you sure you’re ready to settle down?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” He smiled. “Well? Can it be done?”

“I don’t see why not. I’d imagine that there’s a bit of paperwork involved. Do you have a timeline?”

“Find out what you can for me, please. I’ll let you know.”

She didn’t look completely convinced, but she nodded.

“I’ll see what I can learn.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, and now it was amused. “Are you coming sledding with us, this weekend?”

Another look of disbelief. Sledding. Tony Stark?

“There is snow involved with sledding,” she reminded him – unnecessarily. “I hate being cold.”

“There’s a great lodge. Big fireplace and all the hot chocolate you can drink.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Tony smirked.

“I could have Peter invite you.”

She scowled.

“Don’t you dare weaponize that little boy.”

“What?” his expression was wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t want to go sledding. I can’t believe you’re even considering it.”

“More than considering. We’re leaving Friday after Peter gets out of school, and won’t be back until Sunday. An entire weekend with a huge lodge, and a very cool sledding hill. It even has a tow rope so we don’t have to walk up the hill. I rented a cabin to keep us from being forced to mingle with other people, too much, even.”

“Well, that’s a start.” She scowled. “You’ll probably all get frostbite, though. No more Avengers.”

He smiled at that.

“We have high-tech hand warmers and inserts for our boots.”

“That’s cheating.”

“But it’ll keep us from coming home with colds. I have an extra set. Just for you.”

“I have to finish my Christmas shopping.”

“There’ll still be an entire week,” he pointed out. “I’ll even give you an afternoon off, so you can do it at your own leisure.”

His eyes were hopeful, and she felt herself giving in. But then she shook her head.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Great.”

He was careful not to be smug.

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to go make a few calls.”

“Thank you.”

><><><><>< 

“Why are you working on homework?”

“Because it needs to be done.”

Sam rolled his eyes, picking up the textbook that Peter had propped against Natasha’s leg when they’d settled in for the two hour drive to the ski resort. Steve, Natasha and Sam had arrived at the tower in an SUV only a few minutes before Peter was brought in by Agent Hill, who smiled, slightly, declining – again – an invitation to join them for the weekend. She turned Peter over to Stark, despite the others being there, and Tony and Steve carried the bags that Peter and Tony had packed the evening before and had brought with them to the tower that morning.

Now Steve was driving, with Tony in the co-pilot seat, while Sam and Natasha were on either side of Peter in the seats behind them. The boy had immediately started working on his schoolwork, although he was willing to make conversation.

“You could do it tonight,” Wilson pointed out. “After we settle in and check out the lodge.”

“What if we go sledding, tonight? Tony said they have night-time sledding. If I get it done and out of the way, then I can have all weekend to play.”

It was clear he was looking forward to that.

Sam shrugged at the logic.

“Do you need help with it?”

“It’s Euclidic geometry.”

The man scowled when Natasha snorted, amused.

“Does that mean you do need help?” Sam asked. “Or you don’t?”

Tony turned in his seat, interrupting the conversation he’d been having with Steve, but clearly paying attention to what they’d been talking about behind him.

“That means you can’t help him,” the billionaire said.

“Shows what you know,” Sam retorted, holding up his phone. “I’ve got my google-foo working. I’m ready for anything.”

Tony smirked, always ready to be proud of just how smart the boy was, and to rub that intelligence in the face of those around him – even when it was people that he knew weren’t idiots. Like the Avengers.

“Good luck with that.”

“Give me a problem, Peter,” Sam said, his fingers at ready on his phone screen. “I’ll have the answer before you.”

Natasha put down the book that she’d been reading to pass the time during the drive, and looked over.

“This ought to be good,” she said, making Peter smile, even as he took his book back and replaced it against her leg so he could see the pages. “Don’t go too easy on him, Peter,” she told the boy. “He’s been getting a little cocky, lately.”

The boy nodded, but he just pointed to the problem he was working on.

“That one.”

Wilson’s expression was a little surprised at the complex equation, but he just shrugged.

“I’m on it.”

><><>><>< 

“Nice place, Tony…”

The billionaire nodded, looking around as they entered the ski lodge cabin that he’d rented for them. It was large, with a rustic look, a huge fireplace and several comfortable couches and chairs around it, with rooms going off in all directions – including a well-appointed kitchen.

“Yeah.” He looked at Peter and the others. “Pick a room.”

“Any room?” Peter asked, looking around, excitedly. He was ready to move around a bit after being confined to the car for the long drive. “Just for me?”

“I’m not sharing a room with you,” Sam said, tousling the boy’s hair as he walked by. “There won’t be any room for me with that ginormous brain of yours.”

Peter smiled at that, understanding that he was being teased. He carried his backpack into the closest room to the kitchen, while the others checked out the rest of the place.

“Can I have this one?” he asked, amazed at just how big it was. When Tony had mentioned the cabin, and explained the rooms and all, he’d anticipated small rooms with bunk beds. Certainly not a room that had its own bathroom and a couch as well as a bed. “It’s really big.”

Tony walked in behind him, looking around, and he caught Peter’s backpack in his hand to keep him from going any further into the room.

“This one’s mine, buddy.” Leave it to Peter to find the master bedroom. The nicest and the biggest. “Let’s find you one that matches your size a little better.”

“Okay.”

Stark tossed his own bag on the bed – his way of silently calling dibs to the room – and he and Peter walked out to the living room, once more. The bedroom closest to Tony’s hadn’t been claimed, and Tony set Peter’s bag and backpack on the bed.

“This one looks good. And it’s close to me.”

“Perfect.” Peter smiled up at him. “Can I go outside and look around?”

“It’s getting dark…”

“Please?”

“I’ll go with him, Tony,” Steve offered. “I need to stretch my legs.”

Tony nodded his approval of that, and looked at Peter.

“Ground rules…”

The boy smiled.

“Yeah?”

“No wandering off. Stay close to one of us when we’re outside.”

“Okay.”

“No petting dangerous things.”

“Like bears, wolves, and angry squirrels?” Peter asked, grinning.

Tony wasn't the only one to smile.

“Exactly. And you don’t go outside without one of us with you. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Why not just put him on a leash?” Sam asked, sarcastically, amused at the way Tony and Peter interacted.

It was fun to watch the guy toppled by a little kid – even though he might not even realize it was happening, yet.

“I would if I could find one,” Tony assured him. He shooed Peter away, dramatically. “Don’t let him get frostbite, Steve.”

“He’ll be fine.”

Since they hadn’t bothered taking off their coats, Steve just offered Peter his hand, smiling when the boy took it and looked up at him.

“Keep his hood up,” Tony told Steve. “I don’t want his head to get cold.”

Rogers waved his free hand to show that he’d heard, but he and Peter were out the door before Stark could give them any more orders.

“You’re so good with him,” Sam said when the door had closed. “It’s kind of weird.”

“I think it’s adorable,” Natasha corrected. “When are you going to make it permanent?”

“I’m looking into it,” he admitted, ignoring the way Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Well, Pepper is, really.”

“Seriously?” Wilson asked.

Tony shrugged.

“I have to do something,” he told the other man. “If I don’t act soon, Romanoff will beat me to it, and then I only get to be Uncle Tony.”

“Wow…”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say anything about it, alright? I haven’t brought it up with Peter, yet.”

“When are you going to find out?” Natasha asked, curiously.

“Pepper will be here tomorrow. If she’s learned anything, she’ll let me know, then. But we’ll see what happens.”

Chapter Text

“It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?” Peter asked, looking around, but with his hand still in Steve’s. “Like in movies.”

The man nodded. He hadn’t spent much time out in the woods, either, and never at a ski resort. At least not to ski, or sled in their case.

“Yeah.” He smiled down at the boy, bemused to find himself holding a little hand and walking through a strange wooded area. “Are you done with school, now?”

“Until the new year,” Peter confirmed with a happy grin. “I like school, but I like vacation, too.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Rogers assured him. “What are you going to do during the days, while Tony’s working?”

“There’s a daycare. I think I’ll be there.”

He hadn’t really thought about it, actually.

“Maybe I’ll see if we can steal you for a day – sometime after Christmas.”

“Wow.”

Steve’s smile was warm and amused.

“Does that mean you’d be interested?”

“If Tony says it’s okay, yeah. It’d be great.”

“He’ll say it’s okay,” Steve said, confidently. “You like living with him?”

Peter nodded.

“He’s nice.”

Which wasn't a description that Steve had ever associated with Tony Stark.

“He’s a good man,” he agreed. “Are you eating enough? Getting enough sleep? You’re not just sitting in front of the TV all day, are you?”

The little boy laughed.

“You sound like you do on those commercials they show in school.”

Steve let go of his hand so he could tug on the hood of his coat.

“I’m supposed to sound like that,” he told the boy. “Because I care. Are you doing alright with him?”

Peter nodded, again, reaching down now that his hands were free and picking up a handful of snow, which he formed into a snowball. “I eat a lot. I don’t sleep much, but the bed is nice. And Tony plays Legos with me, and lets me watch him work out his suit ideas, sometimes.”

“Wow.”

What a nerd. Steve didn’t know they came in such small sizes.

“Right?” Peter threw the snowball at a tree trunk and smiled when he hit it squarely. “He took me to see Santa.”

“I heard. So aside from what you asked Santa for – since I’m going to leave that up to him – what else did you want for Christmas? I need ideas. I’ve never had a little guy to buy for and I want to make sure I get it right.”

Peter smiled and started to say something, but then hesitated and shook his head.

“It’s too expensive.”

Steve picked him up and turned him upside down, shaking him and making Peter giggle at the rough treatment that was so much fun to the little boy.

“Better tell me,” Steve said. “Or I’ll tell Tony that you were petting angry squirrels.”

The boy twisted around in Steve’s grasp, his eyes shining in the darkening daylight.

“A new bike.”

Rogers swung the boy up into the air by his heavy snow boots and caught him in his arms, easily.

“What color?”

Breathless, Peter’s smile was broad.

“Blue.”

“You got it.” The boy hugged him, and Steve hugged him back for a moment, and then swung him once more, bringing Peter up onto his shoulders. “Let’s get inside. I’m hungry.”

“Okay.”

><><>>< 

The cabin was warm, especially once they lit the fire in the fireplace, and the kitchen had been fully stocked in advance of their arrival. Tony and Sam were in the kitchen putting together a hearty dinner of canned beef stew and rolls when Peter and Steve returned from their walk. Or their reconnoiter as Steve called it.

“What did you see?” Natasha asked from her position on the main sofa in front of the cheerful fire. “Anything interesting?”

“It’s snowing,” Peter said, pulling his coat off and leaving it on the floor under the hooks for the coats. He couldn’t reach them, after all, and knew it was senseless to bother trying. “And there are people skiing and sledding.”

The boy kicked off his boots and hurried over to the sofa, scrambling up onto it to sit next to her, but he was kneeling on the cushion and facing her – and that made him able to see Tony and Sam as well.

“It’s dark out,” Romanoff said, frowning. “They’re not crashing into trees?”

Stark smirked.

“It’s lit up at night to avoid that.” He looked at Peter. “We’re going to sled, tomorrow. Unless you want to try to ski?”

The boy shook his head. He’d seen enough movies that ended with people getting in accidents skiing, and had never seen one person hurt while sledding.  Of course, he’d never actually done either.

“Sledding.”

“Good enough.” Tony smiled when Natasha put her arms around the little boy, pulling him down onto her lap, clearly in a good mood. “We found some board games, and puzzles,” Tony said. “When we’re done eating, we can relax, tonight, and get plenty of sleep to be ready for a busy day, tomorrow.”

He was looking directly at Peter when he said it. Mainly because the others weren’t little kids. He couldn’t boss them around, really.

Peter nodded, relaxing already, since Natasha was a surprisingly good cuddler. Or he just liked being held. Either way, he was warming up, nicely, and she was idly running her fingers through his fine curls which was soothing.

“We can sled all day,” he said, smiling at Steve, who joined them on the sofa. “And there’s hot chocolate.”

“That’s what I hear. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come.”

Tony walked over, standing behind the sofa and looking down at the boy. He looked ready to fall asleep, suddenly, as the long day at school, the excited, sleepless night before, and then the walk with Steve was beginning to take its toll.

“We’re having stew for dinner.”

“Okay.”

“And then I want you to get ready for bed.”

“Okay. But I don’t have to go to bed, right?”

It was a question that he always asked, and one Tony almost invariably answered the same way, each time.

“No.”

Natasha smiled at how easy Tony was with the little kid, but she didn’t relinquish her grip on him, since he was willing to be held, and she never had enough chances to do something so domestic. They chatted with Steve and Tony and Sam, mainly discussing the ski area and what each wanted to do the next day – as well as the expected arrival of Pepper, who was going to join them sometime around lunch.

By the time Sam called everyone to the table, they had their plans made, and their meal was eaten with an accompaniment of conversation that was now more centered around more mundane things; training schedules, recruits and rotations, but still fun for Peter, even though he had no clue, really, who any of the people the adults were talking about even were.

“Who’s doing dishes?” Sam asked, when they were done. “Tony and I cooked.”

He looked pointedly at Steve and Natasha, but Peter spoke up.

“I could.”

“No. You’re going to go brush your teeth and get pajamas on,” Tony told him, taking a sip of his coffee. “Natasha and Steve can team up and do dishes. You can help tomorrow.”

Peter didn’t argue. He disappeared into the bedroom to find his toothbrush.

“Did you learn anything?” Natasha asked, softly, after making sure Peter wasn't coming back, right away.

“I know what I’m getting him for Christmas,” Steve said, smugly.

Tony frowned.

“I thought you already bought him a bicycle?”

“I did,” Rogers said. “It’s assembled and ready to go. But now I know that he actually wants one – so it’s a win.”

“What else?”

“It’s snowing.”

Sam was the one who rolled his eyes.

“You’re not much help.”

“Helped me.”

Sam would have to do his own interrogating.

“Don’t you have dishes to wash?” Wilson asked.

Natasha snorted, but she got up to help Steve start clearing the table.

><><><><> 

“Tony…”

He was almost used to being woken in the middle of the night, although he knew that while Peter never slept the whole night through, he only woke Tony if something was bothering him, or (sometimes) if he’d had a bad dream and needed whatever reassurance the billionaire could provide. Stark opened his eyes, even as he felt his shoulder being shaken.

Stark rolled over and opened his eyes, even as he automatically looked for the time. His eyes met Peter’s, and he saw that they were happy and excited.

Not the usual mood for the middle of the night. Clearly the boy hadn’t had a bad dream.

“Yeah? You okay?”

“There’s deer outside my window!”

It was said in a stage whisper, as if to keep from scaring them away.

“Oh? Reindeer?”

“I don’t think so. Come look.”

“All right.” He wasn't really interested, but Peter was, obviously, and wanted to share the occasion with him. He tossed back his blankets and allowed Peter to grab his hand. “Why are you up?” he asked as they crossed the living room and reached the door to Peter’s room.

The boy had played UNO with them for almost an hour before he’d started nodding off. When Tony noticed, he waited until the most recent hand was finished, and then suggested hot chocolate and some time on the sofa in front of the fire. Peter had snuggled right up against his side and had fallen asleep almost immediately, while the grown ups all pulled out phones or tablets and checked emails.

It had been Tony who had carried Peter to his bed, tucking the boy in and making sure to wait long enough to see if he woke. When he didn’t, Stark had gone back into the living room, told the others goodnight, and had gone to bed, as well.

“Heard a noise,” Peter told him. “Something scary outside.”

“The deer?”

“No. Something screamed.” Peter shivered. “I don’t know what it was.”

“Probably a rabbit, or something,” Tony told him, walking carefully to the window that Peter was sneaking up on. “Or maybe a wolf or a coyote?”

“It was scary. But when I looked out the window, all I saw were these…”

“They look pretty calm,” Tony said, softly. “If there were something dangerous out there, they’d probably be more nervous.”

“Yeah…” Peter was leaning against the cold glass of the window, watching the deer as they nibbled on the trees and bushes, rather than grazing since the grass that might be there was buried under the falling snow. “They’re pretty neat, huh?” he asked, smiling over at Stark.

Tony nodded, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was looking at Peter, and his expression was tender.

“Yes. Pretty neat.”

Chapter Text

“You look tired.”

Tony nodded, smiling a good morning when he walked over to the table in the small dining area of the cabin and sat down. He breathed deeply, smelling coffee, but uncertain if it was brewed, yet.

“I was up half the night watching deer outside Peter’s window.”

Sam wasn't the only one to frown.

“What were they doing?” Natasha asked, smiling a thank you to Steve when he set a cup of coffee in front of her.

“Eating, I guess. Although a couple were butting their heads against each other – maybe playing. That's what Peter thought, anyway.”

“He stayed up with you?”

“I certainly wouldn’t have stayed up and watched them if I were alone.”

Good point.

“Does he do that often?” Natasha asked. “Or is it just because of the change of scenery? He told me, once, that he doesn’t sleep much.”

“He doesn’t sleep through the night very often,” Tony confirmed, also smiling a thank you to Steve when he was handed a cup of coffee, too. “Most of the time he talks to JARVIS because he doesn’t want to bother me, apparently. Sometimes, if something is nagging at him, or the dream was particularly upsetting, he’ll come wake me up.”

“What do you do?” Steve asked.

“Depends. Either we stay in my bed and we talk for a while until he falls asleep, or I put him back in his and stay with him until he falls asleep.”

“Is it always nightmares?”

“No. Sometimes he just can’t sleep. Can’t get his mind to turn off. I know how that feels; I’ve been there.”

“Might not hurt to have him talk to a professional,” Sam pointed out.

“I plan on it,” Tony agreed. “But I want him settled a little more, first. Missing a little sleep won’t kill me.”

“He’s a little boy, though,” Natasha reminded him. “He needs to get sleep.”

“You tell him that.”

“I did.”

Tony shrugged.

“If he won’t listen to you, then he isn’t going to listen to anyone.”

“Are we going to go sledding, this morning?”

“That’s the plan. An entire day of sledding, warming up by the fire in the main lodge, and more sledding.”

“If nothing else, we can run him all day and maybe wear him out enough to get him to sleep all night,” Steve suggested.

“Whatever works.”

As long as the boy had a good time.

><><><><><> 

They weren’t the first ones on the hill.

By the time Peter woke and they all had a hearty breakfast and then bundled themselves into warm clothes, covered by heavy coats and hats and boots, there were plenty of other people out on the slopes. Most were skiing, and they weren’t allowed on the single hill that was reserved only for people to sled, but there were a dozen or so people sliding down the hill on inner tubes and sleds, or allowing the tow rope to pull them up the hill for their next run.

“You guys don’t have to hang out with us,” Tony told the others, as they watched a ski patrol member hand Peter an innertube that was bigger than he was. “If you would rather ski, that’s fine. He won’t mind, and neither will I.”

They all declined, and reached for their own sleds, both innertubes and regular plastic sleds, and Peter was guided to the base of the hill, surrounded by Avengers, even though none of the other sledders had a clue who they were under the bulky clothing. The boy watched Sam settle in his sled and then reach for the towrope.

“Got it?” Tony asked.

With an excited smile, Peter nodded, and then proved it by flopping down onto his innertube and then grabbing the rope with his mittened hand and squealing, happily, when it started pulling him up the hill. Tony hurried to follow with his own and Natasha smirked, looking at Steve.

“If someone had told me four months ago that I’d be doing this, I’d have called the crazy and made them pee in a cup.”

Rogers chuckled, but he agreed, completely.

“How many trips do you think it’ll take to wear him out?”

“Ten.”

“I’ll say seven.”

“Loser buys lunch.”

“Done.”

She tossed her innertube down, waited for another person to move and then grabbed the towrope.

“This should be interesting.”

><><><><><>< 

By the time Pepper Potts arrived at the ski resort, driving up on her own in a four-wheeled drive vehicle designed for the snowy conditions, Peter was asleep on one of the huge sofas in the living area of the spacious resorts main lodge. With Natasha beside him soaking up the warmth of the fire in front of them Tony didn’t need to worry about the boy when he received the alert that she had arrived.

He abandoned his cup of coffee and slid his feet back into his boots to walk over to their rented cabin and meet her at the door.

“Where’s your mini me?” she asked when he arrived.

“Dead to the world up at the lodge.” Tony reached for the bag that she’d been carrying. “He lasted longer than we expected, but he fell asleep over lunch.”

“You didn’t put him to bed?” she asked, walking into the cabin and looking around with interest.

“He won’t sleep too long,” Tony assured her, inwardly bemused with the fact that he knew more about little kids (and Peter in particular) than she did. That wasn't something that he’d ever have believed could happen. “When he wakes up, he’s going to want to keep sledding. So we settled him on the couch up at the lodge. Romanoff is watching him.”

“Where are Sam and Steve?”

“Skiing. They’ll come sled when we start up, again. How was the drive?”

“Uneventful.” She was guided to the remaining bedroom, and Tony dropped her bag on the bed. “I have some information for you, if you’re still interested.”

“Oh, I am.” They walked out into the living room, again, but Tony went into the kitchen, instead. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee, and you tell me what I need to know – and what I have to do.”

“Sounds good.”

><><><><>< 

Peter woke with a start, and immediately felt a hand slide along his back, and heard a soft voice shushing him, gently. He opened his eyes, looking around and realized that he was on a sofa, cuddled up against Natasha’s side.

“I fell asleep?”

“Mh-hmmm.” She looked amused. “I did, too. Afternoons in front of the fire are perfect places to nap.”

The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Pepper arrived a little bit ago. He went to show her what room to use.”

“Oh.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. Not too much.”

“I’m told little guys are always hungry.”

“Are we still sledding?” Peter asked, hopefully.

“Of course. We still have hours.”

Relieved, Peter went to his knees on the couch, so he could look over the back of it and check out the room they were in. There were several big sofas like the one he and Natasha were occupying, and there were people gathered in groups sitting around and enjoying a break from the outdoor activities to spend some time relaxing.

There was even a guy playing Christmas songs at an old fashioned piano, smiling at a pretty young woman as he did.

“Where is Steve and Sam?”

“Steve and Sam are skiing,” Natasha told him, emphasizing the correct grammar with a wink. He was eight, so she wasn't going to expect him to be perfect in everything, but life was filled with learning opportunities. “But they will be back in time to go sledding, once Tony and Pepper come.”

“How long will that be?”

He was eager to bundle back up and go outside, again.

The morning had really been a lot of fun for him. He’d seen movies with people sledding, of course, and if he closed his eyes and concentrated, he thought that he might remember a trip with his mom and dad a long time ago, but it was the first time that he could really remember sledding, and it had been so exciting. Being at the top of a huge hill – at least it looked that way to him – and settling on the innertube and flying down at breathtaking speeds.

Other times, Tony would set him on the sled in front of him, the billionaire’s legs and arms holding him tightly as they sledded together, and that was even more fun, because he wasn't doing it alone. Sometimes they’d even race Steve or Sam – or Natasha – and one time they all made a chain of their innertubes and sleds and went down the hill together. That had ended in Sam’s sled bowling over a woman on an innertube and knocking her into Peter’s lap, which had dumped him and Tony into a snow drift.

Tony had checked on him, immediately, but Peter was giggling from the ride, and the woman had remarked to the man that his son was adorable. The boy had started to correct her, but Tony had just agreed with her, made sure that she hadn’t taken any injury from her tumble, and had told Sam to get a new pair of glasses so he could watch where he was going.

Then he’d led Peter and the sled back to the towrope.

Peter was thoroughly enjoying having so many people spend time with him. He knew he was lucky; they were avengers, after all, and all of them – including Tony Stark – had to have more important things to be doing over the weekend than hanging out and sledding with him. But it was such a new thing for him to be the center of attention. When he was little, he’d been the only child and had his mother and father to dote on him, and him alone, but after they were gone, May had been almost the opposite, only really talking to him when she wanted him to run numbers for her.

She hadn’t asked him about his schoolwork, or played games with him – mostly – and while she’d taken care of him, he understood, now, that she hadn’t really been doing much more than that.

It was a heady feeling for a little boy to be so doted on, and he couldn’t help it when he threw himself into Natasha’s arms, the quick reflexes of the assassin keeping her from being too surprised. She simply wrapped her arms around him, as if she understood how happy he was, just then.

“It shouldn’t be long,” Romanoff assured him, giving his cheek a noisy kiss that made him giggle – especially when she blew a raspberry near his ear that tickled. “Let’s find you a snack before they come back.”

“Okay.”

He moved so she could get up, and then followed her to the reception desk, which he already knew had a lot of snacks in bowls so people could take whatever they wanted. He glanced at the piano, again, however, as they went by, and the man playing it smiled, cheerfully, beckoning him over.

“You know how to play?” he asked the boy, ostentatiously, as he smiled at the woman he’d been singing to and blissfully unaware that Natasha was watching for the slightest hint that he was a danger to her little guy.

Peter nodded.

“Some.”

The man looked surprised at the reply, and he smiled, scooting over on the bench, and patting the spot next to him.

“Come play with me. We’ll make our ladies happy.”

Peter glanced up at Natasha for permission, and she shrugged. She’d already decided that the man at the piano wasn't a threat. She didn’t miss much, even when relaxing in a ski lodge and ostensibly on a rest day, and had noticed him with a little girl, earlier when they’d walked out of the dining room, Tony carrying a sleeping Peter in his arms. He was probably a dad, she decided, and Peter was pretty irresistible.

Especially if the guy was trying to impress the woman like she knew he was.

“Go ahead,” she said, moving slightly to make sure she had an easy field of fire if for some reason she’d read the situation completely wrong and he turned out to be a threat to the boy. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Peter smiled and climbed up onto the piano seat next to the man, sitting on his knees to be able to reach the keys on his side.

“George is a piano teacher,” the woman told Natasha, clearly besotted with the man, but smiling at Peter. “He’s a classic pianist. Your little boy is going to have fun. He’ll make him look like a maestro.”

Natasha nodded, but they both looked surprised when Peter’s little fingers echoed the tune that the man had been playing when Peter and Natasha had walked up.

They weren’t the only ones, though, because the man sitting beside Peter grinned his own shock and delight.

“You do know how to play!” he said, cheerfully. “See if you know this one…”

He tapped out an easy concerto that Peter had heard several times, and then gestured for the boy to take over.

Which he did.

Chapter Text

When Pepper and Tony walked into the main lodge, they were discussing plans for Christmas Eve and he was once more threatening to have Peter invite her over if she refused his own invitation.

“Everyone else is coming,” he assured her, smoothly, as he opened the door for her. “It isn’t as if it’s going to be just the three of us sipping eggnog in front of the fireplace. Nothing more intimate than a room filled with Avengers.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” she reminded him, smiling.

She was pleased at the invitation, and she had to admit that the billionaire was beginning to mellow a bit – which was a relief. Not only because she hadn’t had to put out any fires in several months, now, but because he was smiling, more, and seemed to be getting more sleep and exercise – and maybe even eating healthier?

“Good. We’ll just be hanging out after dinner. Mainly watching for Santa, that kind of thing – although Peter’s going to have a very strict bedtime. I’m not staying up until the middle of the night putting together toys.”

“Did you buy anything that doesn’t come preassembled?”

“I may have ordered a few things,” he admitted. “I’ll have Rogers and Rhodey put them together before I let them leave.” He noticed a small crowd of people and the sound of a piano in the area where he’d last seen Romanoff and Peter – and a glance at the sofa where he’d left them showed it to be occupied by a group of young men drinking beers and telling bawdy jokes. “What’s going on…?”

They walked over to the small crowd, and saw Romanoff was standing by the piano, leaning against it and watching Peter and a strange man playing a wickedly complicated duet on the piano – much to the enjoyment of the small crowd of people standing around. Natasha smiled a greeting to them as they walked over, silently telling them that all was well.

“Did you know he could play?” she asked, softly, when they stopped beside her.

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t heard him, but I read that he’d taken some music classes when he was little. Littler.” Tony smiled at Peter when the boy looked up at his arrival and smiled – but didn’t miss a beat as his little fingers flew over his side of the keyboard. “He’s not bad, is he?”

“Not at all.”

Pepper smiled, too.

><<<><><> 

The impromptu concert ended soon after Tony’s arrival. Peter thanked the man who had been playing with him and hopped off the piano bench, blushing with pleased bashfulness at the spattering of applause. Followed by Natasha, he walked over to Tony and Pepper, looking up at her.

“You made it!”

Pepper’s smile was soft. It was always nice when someone was that happy to see you, after all.

“Of course I did,” she told him. “I didn’t want to miss the chance to go sledding. I haven’t done it since I was a little girl.”

He beamed, not noticing that Tony was rolling his eyes, amused by the lie.

“We went this morning. It was fun. There are innertubes, and sleds, and this one group of people had a toboggin and there were like a million people on it, but some fell off when Tony crashed into them from behind. And there’s a rope that pulls you up the hill and then you let-“

“Don’t spoil all the surprises for her,” Tony said, interrupting and swinging Peter up into his arms. “She needs to see for herself.”

“Okay.”

Pepper smiled at the way Peter’s arms automatically went around Tony’s neck, his cheek pressing against the billionaire’s for a moment before turning back to her and Natasha. He looked so happy, and Pepper couldn’t help but feel just a little gooey at the sight of Tony looking so relaxed with the child in his arms. She knew it was hormones, or something, some kind of bio thing, but she suddenly wanted to hug them both.

Maybe Tony wasn't as crazy as she’d thought he was, initially, when he’d brought up the idea of fostering, and then making things permanent?

“You’re not wearing a coat or boots,” she pointed out. “Are you done sledding for the day?”

“We were waiting for you,” Peter told her, and now he had one arm around Tony’s neck, casually, while he spoke with them. “He said you would be here around lunch.”

“Did you have lunch?”

“Yes. Did you?”

Pepper nodded.

“I had a burger on the way.”

Peter suddenly frowned, and looked at her closely, and then at Tony.

“I don’t see any smoke.”

“What?”

“You said she’d be smoking if she wore the tight pants with-“

A hand was suddenly clamped over his mouth, and Tony’s expression was a mixture of pained and chagrined.

“That’s not what I said.”

Romanoff snorted, delighted at the exchange, while Pepper’s expressive eyes lit up with amusement even as she scowled, at the man. She reached out and took the little boy from Tony, and Peter transferred, willingly, into her arms, secretly delighted at being passed around like a bag of potatoes.

“Come on,” Pepper said. “Natasha can show me where your coat and boots are, and Tony can go make sure no one wandered off with our sleds.”

“Okay.”

Stark rolled his eyes, but he was amused, too.

“I’ll meet you out by the tow rope in fifteen minutes.”

><><><>><> 

The afternoon went much the same as the morning had. Only now, Pepper was with them, hanging out with Tony and Peter in a capacity that was as new for her as it was for Peter – and Tony. They had fun, though. Natasha and Peter made several runs up and then down the hill, together, and when Steve and Sam joined them, they were welcomed company.

There was even an impromptu snowball fight, which pitted Sam and Tony – and Peter – against the others while they hid behind a fort made of sleds.

If any of the adults had assumed the active morning would wear the energetic little boy out, they were wrong. At least for the majority of the day. His nap had refreshed him, and sledding was still exciting to him. He didn’t even notice how Natasha and the avengers kept him occupied and monopolized his company, often manipulating circumstances so that Tony ended up spending much of his time with Pepper. Tony would be getting ready to join Peter on a sled, or on an innertube, but it would be Sam or Steve, or – of course – Natasha, who snatched the child up and challenged him to ride along on his sled, instead.

It almost always only happened when it would leave one sled for Tony and Pepper to share, or when it left the two standing at the top of the hill. They both were intelligent enough to realize early on what was happening, but Tony shrugged, and Pepper didn’t mind. She was having a good time, and Tony Stark was good company when he wasn't being an asshole to the people around him (including her) and causing her PR nightmares.

By the time the sun started to go down and they turned the lights on to illuminate the ski runs as well as the sledding hill, though, Peter wasn't the only one to start getting worn out, and all of them were soaked from snow getting under their outerwear and melting into their clothing.

The initial plan had been to make their own dinner, but none of them felt like cooking, so Pepper and Steve stopped at the lodge’s restaurant to order take out to bring back with them to their cabin, while the others returned the sleds and innertubes and then headed inside to warm up.

“Yu looked like you were having a pretty good time,” Tony said at the door as he helped Peter out of his wet coat and hung it next to his own and Sam’s.

The boy’s cheeks and nose were red with cold, but his brown eyes were happy.

“A lot of fun.”

“Good. Maybe we can do it, again, sometime.”

Peter nodded.

“I’d like that.”

Tony pulled the boy’s mittens and hat off, and then turned him by a hold on his shoulders, and pointed him to his room.

“Go get changed and ready for bed. Don’t brush your teeth, though, since we’re going to eat dinner, still.”

“I don’t have to go to bed, though, right?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes, making Sam and Natasha smile.

“No. I just said we’re going to eat.”

“But after that?”

“No. Not yet. We’ll find something to do. Maybe we’ll let Pepper decide.”

He’d point out to Pepper that Peter would relax better if she chose a movie, or something inactive like that to do after they ate. With a warm meal inside the boy and the heat of a fire, he’d almost certainly fall asleep.

“Okay.”

The youngster did as he was told and Sam shook his head.

“You’re really good with him,” he said. “I never would have believed it.”

Rather than be offended, or get defensive, Tony nodded.

“Neither would I. It just takes some getting to know him, I guess. He’s a complicated little guy, but he’s still a kid, and definitely has patterns. Like challenging bedtime whenever I tell him to get pajamas on.”

“I used to hate being told it was bedtime,” Sam said, shrugging. “Probably all kids do.”

Romanoff nodded, but she looked at Tony.

“Especially if sleeping means nightmares and bad dreams.”

He nodded, as well.

“Probably the case. We’ll get him a shrink when I have more say in the matter,” he promised. “Until then I’ll deal with it as needed. You two go get changed, too. You’re soaked.”

Wilson rolled his eyes.

“That’s such a dad thing.”

He turned and headed for his bedroom, and Natasha smiled.

“I’m not calling you daddy.”

Stark’s smile was amused.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

She chuckled and left him standing by the door, and Tony was still smiling when he started to take his own coat off to hang it next to Peter and Sam’s.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you want to pick Cars?” Tony asked, seriously. “It doesn’t have to be a cartoon. Peter likes regular movies, too.”

He liked every kind of movie, Tony had discovered.

Pepper nodded.

“I get to choose, right?”

“Yep.”

“Cars is good. I saw it.”

“When?”

“At the premier.”

“You went to the premier?”

“You were invited.”

Which meant that she’d almost certainly told him, and he hadn’t bothered to show up.

“Oh.”

She smirked, and took the bowl of popcorn that he’d popped from him before walking from the kitchen out into the living room where the others were all arranged on the couch or the oversized comfortable chairs. Peter was on the sofa, and she was amused to find that he’d literally fallen asleep between the discussion of what movie they wanted to watch and Tony offering to pop popcorn.

He was sprawled bonelessly against the right side cushion, head on the arm of the couch where he’d been watching, eagerly, for Tony and Pepper to return.

“He didn’t make it?”

“Not even close,” Steve said, softly.

They’d been watching him all evening, looking sleepier and sleepier as they’d eaten a filling dinner of meatloaf, potatoes and asparagus. He’d even managed a few bites of the ice cream that Steve had brought back with them from the restaurant. But once he’d been in front of the fire, on the soft leather of the sofa, his long day and full stomach had overwhelmed him, and he hadn’t lasted long.

“Do we put him to bed?”

She didn’t know much about children, of course, but this was almost the blind leading the blind since none of them had any real experience with any kids – other than Peter, now. Clint was their expert, since he had kids, but he wasn't there to guide them.

“No,” Tony answered before any of the others could. “If he wakes up and the proper length of time for us to have watched a movie and then put him to bed hasn’t passed, then he’ll know he went to bed, and will feel that we cheated him.”

“So, we’re going to leave him where he is… and watch the cartoon?” she clarified. “Just in case he wakes up?”

“Pretty much.” He shrugged, wryly. “What can I say? It’s happened.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

She sat down on the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table and saving the space beside Peter for Tony. The billionaire made sure there was a comforter draped over the back of the sofa and then settled next to the boy. Surprising Pepper, and making Natasha and her both smile, Tony gathered the sleeping boy into his arms, shushing him, gently, when Peter stirred, sleepily, and then went back to sleep. Then he pulled the blanket down over the two of them, offering a corner to Pepper, who shook her head.

The fire was already almost too warm, she definitely didn’t want to be covered.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Sam asked, softly, before the lights were turned off and the movie started.

They were all pretty tired, too. They were in good shape, but a day of sledding could wear down the most fit, and Steve (being the most fit), dressed in sweats, fluffy socks, and a thermal long-sleeved shirt, was already almost asleep, too. He opened his eyes at the question, though, and looked over at Tony, willing to defer to whatever he had in mind.

“Sleep in, have breakfast and maybe a walk in the woods before we head home.”

“No more sledding?” Natasha asked, smiling.

“Nope. I want to be home at a decent time, tomorrow.”

“Things to do?”

“Ask Pepper. She’s the one who tells me what I’m doing.”

Pepper smirked, amused. They all knew there was a thread of truth to that statement, but she didn’t really set his schedule – beyond telling him the meetings and appointments that he absolutely had to attend. Other than that, he was free to work on his projects and be available to the avengers (and now Peter).

“Is your Christmas shopping done?”

“There are a few last-minute items to go under the tree. Some are being delivered, tomorrow. I don’t need to be there, though. I just want to make sure our little guy isn’t overwhelmed with too many activities being thrust at him all at once. I intend to have a week of just staying at home until the run up to Christmas.”

“Then I’ll clear your schedule of meetings. It’s Christmas, so it won’t be too hard. No one wants to have appointments when they’re trying to figure out how to get through the holiday, anyway.”

“We can swing by, though, right?” Sam asked. “You know… to drop off presents, and say hi.”

“Of course.”

“Are we done?” Steve asked, holding the remote control. “I want to watch cartoons.”

They all knew he just wanted to have the lights turned down and the movie start so he could fall asleep in peace and quiet.

“For now.”

Natasha threw Steve a pillow to get himself more comfortable, the lights went off and the movie started. Pepper looked over at Tony, watching him in the light of the display. The billionaire wasn't watching the movie, just then. He was watching Peter sleep, wondering if the boy was worn out enough to sleep through the night, or if he should even bother putting him to bed, later.

He might just take him to bed with him – or sack out on the couch to avoid waking Peter even long enough to put him into his own bed.

Stark looked up, and gave a mental shrug.

He’d decide later.

><><><><><> 

“Home sweet home…”

Peter smiled at the way Tony said it, looking up at him as the lock of the apartment came open with a soft clock.

“I had fun.”

“I know you did,” Stark said. “I did, too.”

“And Natasha? And Steve? And Pepper? And Sam?”

“Yeah, all of them, too.”

They’d actually said goodbye to Sam, Steve and Natasha that morning at the resort. Since the compound was well north of the city, Tony and Peter were going to ride home with Pepper, while the others went north. There had been a lot of hugs, though, in the parking lot before they’d separated, and Peter had been smiling the entire drive back to the city, talking almost nonstop about the things that they’d done – even though Pepper and Tony had both been there and lived through it with him.

She’d dropped them off, telling Tony she was going to go home and take a shower and sleep for a few days. Then she’d hugged Peter, tightly, and told him she’d see him soon and had driven off after they’d grabbed their bags. Tony was ready to relax, too, and was glad to be home.

He’d had fun, though.

Peter automatically looked at the tree when they walked in. Not so surprising, really, considering it was so magnificent. He dropped his bags on the sofa, though, and shrugged out of his coat.

“Tony, look!”

Stark smiled, watching as the child hurried over to the tree. Some new presents had been delivered and placed under the tree while they’d been gone. As well as one gift that was much too large to actually fit under the tree.

He walked over to where Peter was standing, running his hand over the piano, which was completely wrapped in gold paper with silver trim. Even the bench was wrapped, individually.

“Wow. I wonder what that is…”

Peter grinned up at him.

“It’s a piano.”

The billionaire frowned.

“Think so?”

“It’s the same size and shape as a piano,” Peter pointed out, logically. “What else could it be?”

“Could be a red herring.” He smiled at the confused look Peter gave him. “Something to distract us from it really is,” he clarified. “Maybe it’s a clarinet.”

“It’s not a clarinet.”

Tony shrugged, pleased and amused. He’d known that Peter could play piano, and he, himself, played, but he didn’t have one in the apartment. He’d never even considered it, really, until he’d seen how much fun Peter had been having playing at the lodge. Which was all the reason he needed to have one ordered, wrapped, and delivered while they were gone.

“I guess we’ll find out on Christmas.”

“I don’t see a tag thing,” Peter said, looking it over, and still pretty sure it was a piano. “Who’s it from?”

“No clue. I was gone, too, remember? Maybe we have a secret admirer.”

“JARVIS? Who sent the piano?” Peter asked, practically bouncing in eagerness, now.

“The piano was delivered this morning by a music company in the city.”

“But who sent it?” Peter pressed. “Who got it for Tony?”

“Unknown.”

“Maybe they got it for both of us,” Stark told the boy. “It could be that there’s a card or something under the wrapping paper.”

“Can we check?”

“On Christmas, when we unwrap it.”

Peter groaned, dramatically, and it made Tony smile, amused.

“Tony…”

He picked him up, drawing his attention from the piano.

“Sorry, buddy. Christmas is for opening Christmas presents. Not a week before.”

“I can’t wait that long,” Peter told him, turning himself upside down in Tony’s grip. “I’ll have a heart attack, or something.”

“JARVIS? Is Peter going to have a heart attack if he has to wait for Christmas?”

“There are countless other children waiting for Christmas,” the AI said. “None of their parents have reported them as having health issues from the anticipation.”

Tony chuckled at another anguished groan, and dropped Peter onto the sofa.

“Go unpack your things,” he suggested. “Put your clothes in the hamper, and then we’ll do something.”

“What?”

“Whatever you want,” Tony said, shrugging. It was Sunday afternoon, after all; he didn’t have any plans. “As long as it doesn’t involve opening our new clarinet.”

Peter laughed and grabbed his bags, rolled off the couch and then headed for his room to unpack.

Chapter Text

The week leading up to Christmas – which was on Sunday – was exactly what Tony had planned it to be. Which was nice, really, because he liked it when things went the way that he planned for them to.

He and Peter spent a lot of time together, both at home and out and about on a few minor expeditions.

Swapping his sportscar for a mini SUV with all wheel drive, he and Peter went out one night to look at all of the Christmas displays in various neighborhoods. The lights were amazing in some places, he had to admit, and Peter had been entranced, looking at them all with his face pressed against the glass of the car window.

They’d also gone to the tower a couple of times, for meetings that Tony and Pepper absolutely couldn’t get out of. Peter had assured Tony that he didn’t mind. The run up to Christmas had left very few people working, and that meant that the daycare was almost empty, but the boy spent time with Ella and a few of the kids that had parents who were either too vital to have a week off despite the holiday, or had things that they just couldn’t get out of – like Tony did.

He’d had fun, and when Tony came to collect him the billionaire had helped him get his coat on, and had then scooped him up into his arms and admired the drawing that Peter had made.

“That’s incredible,” he’d gushed, looking at it and wondering how someone with an off the chart IQ like Peter still managed to have the sloppy artistic skills of an eight-year-old. Clearly his talents lay in the sciences and not the arts. Tony didn’t mind, of course. It was simply a reminder that Peter was a little guy, still, despite his accelerated learning in other ways. “What is it?”

“It’s us,” Peter had told him, proudly. “We’re sledding.” He pointed to each blob with smiley faces. “That’s me, and that’s you, and there’s Sam, and Steve, and Pepper.”

“What’s this?”

“The woman you ran over with the sled.”

“We went down that hill a thousand times, and that’s what you decided to immortalize?”

Peter giggled.

“It was funny.”

Tony had simply rolled his eyes and pressed his cheek against the boy’s.

“You’re a funny guy, kid.”

And then he’d scooped up the boy’s backpack and had carried both to the elevator to take him home.

Another trip had been to the store. This had been accomplished in the middle of the night. Peter had woken after a particularly intense dream, and Tony had been up working on the new nanotech idea that he had for the latest incarnation of his suit. When JARVIS informed Stark the boy was awake, Tony had gone to check on him and had found him sitting up in his bed, shivering just a little despite the warmth of the room and the fuzzy pajamas that he’d worn to bed.

It hadn’t been a nightmare, Peter had assured him when Tony settled himself on the bed and had gathered the child into his embrace, tucking his head under his chin. He’d just had a dream. He couldn’t explain it, because he didn’t really understand what he’d dreamed. He didn’t seem upset, so Tony didn’t press, but when Peter was still wide-awake an hour later, he asked if he minded if they went and did their shopping for Christmas eve dinner, then, instead of waiting for the next day as they’d planned.

Peter had been willing, of course, and they’d gotten dressed and bundled up and went to the store. It was a 24-hour establishment, and even in the middle of the night, they weren’t the only shoppers, but there were no where near the crowds that there would have been the next day. They leisurely wandered up and down the aisles, consulting a list that they’d made the evening before and occasionally adding an item if it looked good.

Tony had hesitated when Peter held up one bag, however, looking excited.

“Look, Tony!”

“Ugh. You’d eat that?”

They were marshmallows with chocolate inside them, so he knew the answer well before Peter nodded his head, enthusiastically.

“It’s like a s’mores.”

Which was exactly what the bag said. Simply add a graham cracker and you had a sugary treat that was guaranteed to have the kid (or adult) bouncing off the walls in no time. Well, that was the way Stark read it when he'd looked.

“Are you sure?”

“Please?”

And it had gone into the cart.

Of course.

Tony was beginning to think that he had the whole being a dad thing down, fairly well, by the time the day before Christmas finally came. All the nightmarish stories that he’d heard about, or read about – or even saw on some magazine covers – never materialized. Peter was – for the most part – a good-natured little boy who had his quirks, but was someone that the billionaire thoroughly enjoyed being around.

Because he was so intelligent, it was hard to imagine the boy being like all of the dumb little kids that others had warned him about, and Tony was smug, thinking that he’d dodged that bullet, anyway. The warning that silence was a sure sign that you should check and see what was going on with your child didn’t seem to apply to Peter. If he were silent, it was most likely because he was playing in his room, or working on some problem that he’d suddenly thought up – and was doing it in his head, or with JARVIS. He was a bundle of energy, yes, but he had good sense, and was too smart to be dumb.

Or so the billionaire thought.

><><><><><> 

“JARVIS? Tell Peter he needs to get a move on. The others are going to be here, pretty soon.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Peter might need a little help, sir…”

“What? Why?”

Another moment of silent.

“I think you should see for yourself.”

Tony had sent the boy to take a bath and get ready for their company. He’d smiled at how excited Peter was. Not for Christmas presents or the huge meal that they had planned, but because the others were coming. Nick and Pepper, as well as Rhodey, Sam and Steve. Clint would have been there, as well, but he told Tony that he was going to have his evening full of putting together a doll house, two bicycles and a plethora of smaller toys that all required assembly. He’d see them, later, he said, and had brought Peter’s present the Wednesday before Christmas so it could be added to the hoard under the tree.

“Is he stuck to the wall, again?” Tony asked.

Maybe he should get a video, this time. He could blur out Peter’s naked butt to keep the boy from being embarrassed, but that was too funny not to share with the others.

“No.”

Too bad.

Tony went into the boy’s bedroom and found it empty. He heard the water running in the sink in the bathroom.

“Peter?”

“I’ll be out in a minute…”

Stark didn’t wait for him. Not when he’d been summoned.

“Hey, buddy. JARVIS said that you might…” he stopped short. “What the hell?”

Peter looked up at him, abashed.

“Oh… hey, Tony…” he said, uncertainly, lowering the washcloth that he’d been scrubbing his face, almost frantically, with. “I might have a problem…”

Tony shook his head, but he couldn’t help the smile that creased his face.

“Yeah… you might, at that.”

<><><><><> 

It was Pepper who arrived, first.

Not surprising, really, since she lived closest. She had barely reached the door when she heard the magnetic lock click and it opened, revealing Tony Stark. The billionaire was dressed casually in jeans and a button down shirt, but looked good, and she could tell that he was freshly shaved and showered. He smiled and moved, gesturing for her to come in.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Merry Christmas.”

She walked in and saw Peter by the tree. The little boy came running over, and Pepper smiled, despite herself.

“Oh, no…” she said, handing Tony the packages that she’d been carrying so she could put her finger under Peter’s chin to tilt his head up to give her a better look at his face. “What happened?”

Peter’s expression was chagrined, and his face turned pink. That is, all but the part on his chin, and jaw and cheeks where there was a crudely drawn goatee. One that was clearly drawn with a black marker.

“I thought it’d be neat to see what I’d look like with the same beard as Tony,” the boy said.

Stark smirked, setting the presents on the piano shaped clarinet that was still wrapped, despite Peter’s cajoling and hopeful expressions to open it, early.

“Needless to say, he didn’t consider that he was using a permanent marker when he drew it.”

She shook her head.

“And you let him?”

“Of course not. I was in here, getting the ham ready, and he was in his room.”

Pepper wet her thumb and scrubbed with it at Peter’s cheek.

“Poor baby.”

“It’s not coming off any time soon,” Tony assured her. “We tried everything.”

“Even peanut butter…” Peter added.

She frowned, looking at her boss.

“Peanut butter?”

“JARVIS suggested hairspray, but I don’t have any. And rubbing alcohol. Yet another something I don’t have. So we tried egg yolks, crackers and peanut butter, hoping that it might break any chemical bonds on his skin.”

“I could have told you that wasn't going to work.”

“Yes, well, we’ll deal with it, later,” he said, winking down at Peter. “He doesn’t have school for another week, and it’s too late to do Christmas cards. Plenty of time to figure it out.”

Peter wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.

Chapter Text

“I got you a present, Pepper.”

Pepper smiled, reaching for the stack of gifts that she’d handed Tony.

“I got one for you, as well.”

Peter’s brown eyes lit up, happily, and she couldn’t help but decide that the haphazardly drawn goatee made him look adorable. Of course, she wasn't the one who had to get it off by the end of Christmas break, was she?

“Tony said we can open them, tonight.”

“Just the ones from you and the others,” Stark corrected. “None of the ones from me. That way there are more for him to open, tomorrow.”

“Tyrant.” She tapped Peter’s nose, though, and handed him the gifts. “Put those where you can find them, later.”

The boy did as he was told, and Tony took Pepper’s jacket and handed it down to the boy.

“I need to check dinner, so you can keep Peter company.”

She looked at the wrapped piano.

“You got a piano?”

“It’s a clarinet,” Tony told her.

“Until we unwrap it and it turns out to be a piano,” Peter added from under the tree where he was happily stashing presents.

She didn’t bother to try to understand what was obviously an inside joke.

“I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”

“Come sit down, Pepper,” Peter said, taking her hand while Tony went into the kitchen. The apartment smelled wonderful. They’d all offered to bring something to add to the meal, like they had at Thanksgiving, but Tony had declined, telling them that it wasn't going to be a really fancy meal – or a difficult one – and that he and Peter could handle things. “We made a tray of food to snack on.”

She did as she was told, allowing him to lead her over to the couch. The TV display was on and was showing a Christmas Carol, and the fire was going in the fireplace. The place was homier than Pepper could ever remember it being.

Certainly happier and brighter.

Peter pointed out a bowl of chips, and a plate with vegetables and dip. There was another, chilled, plate that held meats and cheeses and a sampling of crackers.

“This all looks amazing,” she told him, speaking loudly enough for Tony to hear, as well.

“We made them,” he told her, walking back into the living room just as JARVIS announced there was company at the door. “Get that, Peter,” Tony told him, smiling at Pepper in anticipation of the reaction for whoever it was at the door.

He wasn't disappointed.

Natasha Romanoff walked in and immediately scooped him up into her arms, and then almost dropped him when she saw the drawn facial hair on his face.

“Did Tony do that to you?” she asked the little boy, eyes alive with amusement at the sight.

“He tried to help me get it off,” Peter replied.

“That’s all on him,” Stark interjected. “I was working on salad while he was supposed to be getting ready for company.”

“Well, that’s one way to do it, Cheese Pizza,” Rhodey said, his smile broad as he sluffed his coat and handed it to Tony.

“I didn’t think about it not coming off,” Peter admitted, putting his head on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment, clearly happy to see her and the others.

“You understand we’re going to be forced to take a million pictures of you, right?” Sam asked. “Because that’s some cute shit, right there, and no one would-“

“Language,” Nick said before Steve could, reminding Wilson that he wasn't hanging out with his SHIELD agent buddies, at the moment. He handed his jacket to Tony and the bag of brightly wrapped gifts to Sam, and then offered his arms to Peter. “Come here.”

Peter transferred over, willingly, although Romanoff scowled at losing her handsome little man (especially since she thought the facial hair thing was adorable).

“What have you used to try to get rid of it?” Rhodey asked Tony. “Let me guess; nothing, because you secretly love the idea of your mini-me looking even more like you…”

“What?” Tony’s expression was innocence personified. “No. Of course not.”

“Did you use a Sharpie?” Nick asked Peter.

“Yeah.”

Fury looked at Stark.

“You gave him a Sharpie?”

“Yeah.”

“And left him unattended with it?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“He has a lot of things in his room, Nick. I leave him unattended with all of them every night when he goes to bed. This one just came back and bit us on the ass, is all.”

“Poor guy…” Nick chuckled, though, looking at Peter. “You got the jawline a little off, though.”

“It was hard to do looking in the mirror,” Peter admitted.

“Where do we put the presents?” Sam asked, holding up the bundle of gifts he was carrying.

“Next to the clarinet,” Tony replied, gesturing to the piano.

Wilson rolled his eyes.

“Right…”

“I got you something too big to go under the tree, Peter,” Nick told him, turning back to the door with Peter still in his arms. “Steve?”

Rogers had handed Tony his jacket, and now he opened the door, again, walked into the hall and a moment later returned with a brightly wrapped present in his arms. It was green and gold and had little Christmas trees on it. It was also the size of a refrigerator box – although Steve was handling it, easily.

“Wow!” Peter said, eyes widening. “What is it?”

“Have to unwrap it and see,” Nick told him, smugly.

“But not until later,” Tony reminded them both. “Put it by the tree, Steve, will you?”

“Thanks, Nick,” Peter said, excitedly. He squirmed to get down, and then scurried over to follow Steve, already trying to figure out what it was.

“That’s the giant JENGA game?” Tony asked, softly, as they walked into the kitchen, leaving Peter talking excitedly to Pepper, Rhodes and Steve.

“It certainly isn’t a refrigerator,” Fury assured him.

Natasha looked over at Peter, making sure he was occupied, and then handed Tony a small box that was wrapped in silver and gold, with a fancy bow on it. There was a tag that read simply ‘From Santa’.

“Here,” she said, just as softly as Tony. “That should go under the tree sometime after he goes to bed, tonight.”

Tony knew what it was, of course, but he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you think you should give it to him?”

“It’s from Santa,” she reminded him.

“But you’re the one who tracked it down,” he argued. “It’s only right that you see his reaction when he opens it.”

Besides, he had other things that would occupy Peter on Christmas morning, and he didn’t want Peter to be too overwhelmed. The watch might be more than the child could handle. She shrugged her acceptance, and he handed it back to her.

“When are we eating, Tony?” Sam asked, walking over with Peter, and holding up a boardgame. To Peter’s delight, he was holding just high enough that the boy couldn’t reach it – even by jumping. “Do I have time to teach Peter how to play Hungry-Hungry Hippos?”

Tony frowned, looking at them.

“Where did you get that?”

Peter smiled.

“Sam gave it to me.”

“For Christmas?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” Wilson corrected. “Christmas presents come wrapped in bright wrapping paper and ribbons and bows. I just happened to see this game on the shelf the other day when I was looking for a gift for Steve and Clint and I thought to myself ‘self? You know who might like this game?’ and myself asked me ‘who?’ and I said ‘Peter…’” He shrugged, “So I bought it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter giggled. The billionaire waved the two of them away.

“If I step on any marbles in the morning, I’m not going to be happy…”

“You won’t.”

“It has marbles?” Peter asked, still trying to reach the game.

“Come on,” Sam said. “I’ll show you. Coming, Nick?”

“Of course.”

Since Romanoff had the watch, Tony let her decide when the best moment would be to present it to Peter – and how best to do it. She didn’t show any indication of having it as some of them played boardgames with Peter, while others played cards at the table, drinking wine and simply enjoying the fact that the world didn’t seem to need saving, lately. It was a pleasant reprieve for them.

Chapter Text

Dinner was a bit more boisterous. Not necessarily because there had been wine, earlier, but the company was good and the Avengers could let their hair down, so to speak, and show their true personalities. It wasn't something that they often did, but it was enjoyable for all of them – and Pepper – and Peter smiled most of the meal. He didn’t eat much, despite the meal being good. He was too excited about what came, next.

“Presents, next,” Steve said, taking charge when the meal was finished and everyone had even had dessert. “We can’t stay too late, and there are a lot to open.”

The boy looked at Tony, his expression a mixture of hopefulness and excitement, and the billionaire nodded his agreement.

“Just the ones from these guys, though,” Tony reminded him. “And the ones that we got for them. The rest are for Christmas morning.”

“And we can’t open anything until this mess is cleaned up,” Pepper added, gesturing to the table, and smiling when Sam and Steve both groaned in exaggerated dismay at being forced to wait to open presents.

Peter was more than willing to help clean, but he was sent to the tree, instead. While the adults all pitched in to clear the table, the little boy pulled packages out from everywhere they had been stashed under the festive tree, piling them off to the side.

Natasha joined him, first, making suggestions as she settled on the floor by the tree with him, and then Sam, Rhodey, and the rest as there was less and less to do to be helpful in the kitchen.

“Are we ready?” Tony asked, coming into the living room with a garbage can in his hand. Peter nodded, excitedly.

“How do we want to do this, Tony?” Natasha asked.

“Not orderly,” was the reply. “Everyone sit down, and Peter will put all of your presents in front of you.”

The boy did just that, jumping to his feet and sorting out the presents. Soon, everyone had a pile in front of them, wherever they were sitting, and Peter’s own pile was gratifyingly huge. The boy leaned against the giant gift that Nick had brought for him, watching Tony, excitedly.

“Are we ready?” Tony asked, enjoying how happy Peter looked.

There were assorted murmurs of agreement.

“Get on with it, Tony,” Nick said. “I’m too old to enjoy anticipation like I used to.”

“Go!”

The room was suddenly filled with the sound of tearing paper and the air was alive with ribbons, bows and entire swaths of bright paper being tossed aside.

The gifts were as varied as the people that they were purchased (or made) for but all were declared to be perfect.

“Wow…”

Peter was thrilled with all of them. From the bicycle that Steve bought him to the giant Jenga game from Nick, they were all exciting to him and Tony thought that his face was probably killing him from smiling so much. He’d open a present, admire it and hug the person who had given it to him, admire it some more and then neatly stack it to the side, so he had room to open the rest.

“I thought you were getting him a ball pit?” Tony asked Sam, looking at the model jet fighter that Peter had unwrapped and handed to Tony to admire.

“I did,” he replied, shrugging.

“We all pitched in on one,” Natasha added. She smiled at Peter, whose eyes were wide. “It’s at the compound, though. There’s more room for it there.”

“And it gives Tony a reason to bring you back for more frequent visits,” Sam added. “That way he doesn’t hog you to himself all the time.”

Peter hugged himself, making all of them smile.

“Thanks.”

“And you wanted to try it out…” Tony guessed.

“Whaaat?” Sam and Steve both looked as innocent as they could, and Peter giggled at the high-pitched innocence in Wilson’s tone. “Of course, not.”

“Did you?”

“We had to make sure it was safe,” Steve pointed out. “Didn’t want Peter hitting his little head on something.”

Tony shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s all the presents?” Pepper asked, admiring the bracelet that Tony had bought her – and the matching ring that had come from Peter.

“One more,” Nick said, sitting up a little in the recliner that he’d commandeered as his own. “Come here, little man.”

The boy walked over, curiously, and Nick picked him up, settling him in his lap.

“You remember me telling you about how some of my SHIELD agents and I met Santa? Back when we were in the North Pole?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I saw him, yesterday… when I was out doing some secret spy things.”

Peter’s eyes were wide, again.

“Really? The real one?”

“Yes. He came looking for me, really. He said that he had a special present for you, and he knew that I was going to be seeing you So, he asked me to give it to you, in case it fell out of his sleigh, or something, over the ocean, tonight while he’s flying around.”

“He did?”

“Yup.” Nick fished the small box out of his pocket. “He’s still coming here, tonight,” he assured the boy. “But he told me to tell you that you don’t have to wait until tomorrow to open this.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, curiously.

Nick shrugged.

“He didn’t say.”

“It must be special if he came looking for someone to hand it over, personally,” Natasha said. She smiled. “Open it and let’s see.”

Peter unwrapped the small package, carefully. It was a present from Santa, after all, and was special. He saw a white box, and worried it open with his fingers, and then gasped, feeling his heart pounding and a surge of happiness go through him that left him almost breathless.

“What is it?” Tony asked, not missing the boy’s reaction, and glad that the others were there to see it, too.

Peter was too excited to sit still. He held it up and slid off of Nick’s lap.

“It’s my dad’s watch!” he shouted. “It’s really it! He found it!”

The boy ran to Tony, first, and showed him, brandishing it so quickly that all Stark saw was a flash of metal.

“The one that was stolen?” Tony asked, catching Peter around the waist to hold him still to get a look at it.

“Yeah.” Peter looked down at it, and looked back up at Tony, his expression awed. “I wonder how he found it.”

“It’s Santa,” Tony said, glancing at Natasha and feeling smug that he was definitely right about her needing to see the child’s reaction. “He probably has a network of bad-ass black ops people who looked for it for him.”

Peter flung his arms around Tony, exuberantly, and he heard a muffled sob.

“Yeah.”

Stark looked at Natasha, again, and saw that she wasn't the only one smiling, despite the tears. He picked Peter up and gathered him onto his lap, rocking him, slightly, as he cried.

“We should watch a movie,” he told the others.

Steve hesitated, mainly because a movie was another two hours, and that would put them on the road later than he wanted. With the long drive back to the compound, still – especially on wet, snowy roads filled with people doing their own visits – he didn’t really want to commit to that.

“How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a personal favorite of mine,” Fury said. “Do you have that?”

“I have everything,” Tony replied, smugly. “JARVIS?”

The display came on above the fireplace, and the lights dimmed. Watch still firmly in his hand, Peter turned his head enough to be able to see the cartoon, but he didn’t let go of Tony.

“I’ll make popcorn,” Pepper offered, sliding her hand through Peter’s curls as she stood up.

Awww.

Chapter Text

By the time the movie was over, and the Whos in Whoville were dancing and singing, Peter had regained his equilibrium enough that he was turned around on Tony’s lap and watching the movie with the others. He was still holding, tightly, to the watch, but the tears were gone, now, and he smiled at the little dog being treated to a bone.

“That was pretty good,” he said when the lights turned back on and the display went black.

“You never saw it before?” Rhodes asked, incredulously. “Every kid has to see it, I think.”

“I have, now,” the boy pointed out with a slight smile that Tony was pleased to see.

“It was good,” Steve said, leaning over and shaking Sam’s shoulder to wake him, since he’d dozed off sometime during the sleigh ride down the mountain. “But it’s getting late.”

“I wasn't sleeping,” Wilson said, automatically, looking around. “Just resting my eyes.”

“It’s past Peter’s bedtime, too,” Tony told them, handing the boy over to Pepper so he could stand up and stretch his legs. “It was a good night, though.”

“Best Christmas Eve I’ve had in a long time,” Fury agreed.

“What are you doing for New Years?” Natasha asked with a smile, looking down at Peter.

“We’ll let you know,” the billionaire assured her.

Peter climbed off Pepper’s lap and went into his room where everyone’s jackets and coats had been tossed on the bed, while they all gathered up their gifts, putting them into bags to make carrying them, easier. Everyone but Pepper, who was going to stay a while longer.

They bundled up and said goodbyes to Tony, but all of them had a hug for the child, who hugged each of them back, happily.

“Merry Christmas,” Natasha murmured, holding him close. “Thank you for letting me come over.”

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled, glancing at Tony, before turning her attention back to the boy.

“And thank you for the dress.”

“Yeah,” Wilson said. “Definitely thank you for that dress. I can’t wait to see her in it.”

Romanoff shook her head, and released Peter to give Tony a hug, too. Not something she was really into, but as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, she whispered in his ear, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him.

“Let me know how tomorrow goes.”

He smiled, pulling away.

“I will.”

Stark held the door for the others, and then smiled down at Peter.

“Go get ready for bed.”

The boy nodded, and vanished into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, and Tony went back to the sofa and sat down with an only slightly exaggerated sigh of exhaustion.

Pepper smiled.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You realize you still have a couple of toys to assemble?”

“Why do you think you’re still here?” He smiled, though. “It was a good night.”

“Yes, it was.” She looked at the door Peter had disappeared behind and lowered her voice. “Where did the watch come from?”

“You heard Nick. It was Santa.”

She rolled her eyes and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Peter joined them, dressed in pajamas, and climbing over the back of the couch to drop down onto Tony’s shoulders.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“No.”

“But you will, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you guys get cookies for Santa?” Pepper asked.

“A lot of them,” Peter confirmed. “We didn’t know what kind he’d want. Tony said he probably likes Oreos, so we got different kinds.”

“Do you think you can get the plate together?” Stark asked the boy. “Or do you want my help?”

“I can do the plate,” Peter assured him. “Probably not the milk, though.”

The jug wasn't too heavy – he could lift a lot of weight, after all – but he had an eight year old’s coordination, and that meant milk didn’t always find its way into the glass on the first try. Or the cereal bowl, for that matter, as they both knew.

“I’ll help you, then,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” Pepper offered, getting up and plucking Peter from Tony’s shoulders. She toted him into the kitchen with her, and then set him on his feet. She didn’t need to ask where they kept their glasses, and the milk was obviously in the fridge. “Did you get enough cookies for the reindeer, too?”

The boy laughed.

“Reindeer don’t eat cookies. We have carrots.”

“You thought of everything.”

“Tony did. I asked why we have to bribe him, when he’s already bringing what we asked for, and he said it isn’t a bribe; it’s a rest break.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

Peter arranged three different kinds of chocolate cookies on the plate in a circle and took the carrots that Pepper found in the crisper drawer and set them in the middle. Then he stuffed an Oreo into his mouth, mumbling happily to himself as he chewed it while closing the cookies back up and putting them away.

Pepper carried the glass of milk into the living room, leaving the cookies for Peter, and they set them on the coffee table.

“Should probably leave him a note…” Tony suggested. “So he knows they’re his?”

“JARVIS can tell him.”

“Good point.” Tony smiled and put Peter up on his lap. “Ground rules for tomorrow morning…”

Peter smiled, leaning back against Tony’s hands, which were holding him in place.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to have ground rules on Christmas?” Pepper asked, rolling her eyes.

“Tony has ground rules for everything,” Peter told her.

“And why do we have them?” Stark asked the boy, his eyes warm.

“To keep me safe and you sane.”

The way he said it made Pepper chuckle. It was clear that they’d gone over it enough times that it was practically a mantra, by then.

“Exactly.” Tony smiled. “So… while I am normally fine with you being up early, tomorrow is different. I want you in bed and doing your best to sleep until JARVIS says that it’s time. Then you can come out and we’ll see what the old guy left you.”

Peter wriggled, excitedly.

“Okay.”

“And you have to eat breakfast before you start gobbling down candy.”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?” he asked, looking at Pepper.

She shook her head.

“Can’t think of anything.”

Tony nodded, turning back to Peter.

“Off to bed, mister.”

The boy giggled and rolled backward, tumbling himself out of Tony’s lap – narrowly avoiding braining himself on the coffee table – and making Pepper automatically reach for him, although Tony wasn't even fazed. Peter was a physical kid and liked moving in different directions like that. He was getting used to it.

“Good night,” he said to Pepper, leaning onto her knees, cheerfully.

She smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Peter.”

That made his eyes light up, and he turned and headed for his room.

“Brush your teeth,” Tony reminded him.

“I will.”

The door closed behind him, and Tony smirked, reaching for one of the Oreos on the plate.

“A much different Christmas Eve than last year.”

Pepper took a cookie, too, and dipped it in the milk.

“Much,” she agreed. “As I recall you got drunk at the party and ended up passing out in the limo on the way home…”

“I don’t remember that.”

But that didn’t mean that it didn’t happen, of course.

“What happens, now?”

She’d never played Santa, either, after all, but she was sure Tony had done some research.

“We wait until he’s asleep and then I go get all the things that are hidden in my room. You fill up the stocking while I put together the robot. Everything else is already wrapped and just needs to go under the tree.”

“You’re ready for tomorrow?”

He nodded.

“Except for the robot.”

“I meant the important thing…”

Tony nodded, leaning back.

“Ready to change my life, completely? Pull someone else in to be the center of my world, rather than myself?” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, really.”

Which made Pepper smile. He didn’t look nervous, at all, and he wasn't jittery. She knew him well enough to know that he meant what he was saying, and she put her hand on his leg.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to do great.”

“Presuming he says yes,” Tony pointed out.

“There is that.”

><><><><>< 

They watched another Christmas cartoon, giving Peter time to fall asleep, and munching on the cookies, milk and nibbling artfully on the carrots, but leaving just enough on the plate to make it look realistic. Once the movie was over, Tony double-checked with JARVIS who assured them Peter was asleep, and then they went to work.

A small mountain of presents emerged from the closet in the billionaire’s bedroom – along with a large box that rattled as he carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. The stocking that Peter had hung on the mantel of the gas fireplace was retrieved, and Pepper sat beside Tony, opening boxes of candies and fruits and stuffing it full of the small toys and gifts that Tony had ordered for Peter. Things that he couldn’t buy while he and the boy had been shopping, together, obviously.

While Pepper did that, Tony put together a small robot. Nothing as incredible as his suit, or his AI, of course, but an interesting piece of technology that was supposed to allow Peter to interact with it on a limited scale. If he liked it, Tony thought that maybe he’d develop an AI for Peter, as well. Not as advanced as JARVIS, of course, but maybe something that would cater to Peter’s young mind, and give him his own character to bounce ideas off.

It was something to think about.

The robot went under the tree, next to the piano/clarinet, and the stocking went back up on the hook by the fireplace.

“This was fun,” Pepper said, softly, as they looked around at the sight of the living room filled with everything that could make Peter’s first Christmas with Tony unforgettable. “Thank you for inviting me to share it.”

He reached for her hand.

“It’s late…” he pointed out. “You could stay.”

Her smile was tender – as was her expression.

“No. But thank you.”

“I meant in my bed. But I would take the couch,” he added. “Or, if that wasn't comfortable, I could always cuddle up next to Peter in his bed. He wouldn’t care.”

“It might confuse him,” Pepper pointed out. “I know it would confuse me. Besides, tomorrow morning should be for just the two of you.”

Tony looked like he wanted to argue with her, but he shrugged, and went to get her coat to help her into it. Then he handed her the bag of gifts that she’d unwrapped, earlier. Presents from him, or from Peter – and a couple from them both.

“Drive safe.”

“I will.” She hesitated, and then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Call me, tomorrow, and let me know what happened.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

She left and Tony went around the room, picking up wrappers, and tossing everything into the garbage with the trash from their gifts, earlier in the evening. To make sure there was no evidence, he then stuffed it all in the compactor.

“JARVIS? Is he still asleep?”

“He is, sir.”

“Wake me when he wakes up, will you?”

“Yes.”

Tired, but feeling pretty at peace with the world, Tony went to bed, too.

Chapter Text

Despite his excitement at it being Christmas Eve, Peter slept well. Better than he had in many, many months, really. He was still bubbling over with happiness at being reunited with his father’s watch, and the treasure had gone immediately into the envelope in his backpack for safe keeping. With the sadness that having lost it now lifted, and the pure joy of experiencing a real Christmas after what seemed to be forever, Peter managed to sleep through the night.

Unheard of for him.

When he woke, he was warm and comfortable, and still surrounded with the peace that had enveloped him the evening before. Which was probably why he’d slept so well, even though Peter was too young to really understand the connection. All he knew was that he felt good when he opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling for a long sleepy moment before he sat up with a start.

It was Christmas morning!

And Santa had almost certainly come. He had to have, really. He’d already talked to Nick, after all, and if he knew about his father’s watch and had been able to find it, then he had to have some idea how to find Peter. Peter had already been given what he’d asked the mall Santa for, but that didn’t mean he wasn't secretly hoping for more amazing presents.

And he could give Tony the presents that he had wrapped under the tree.

“JARVIS?” he whispered, excitedly. “Are you awake?”

There was the slightest of pauses before the AI replied.

“Of course. Merry Christmas, Peter.”

The boy smiled.

“Merry Christmas.” He hesitated. “Is Tony awake?”

“He’s waking up, now.”

“Did Santa come?”

“He did,” JARVIS assured him. “I’m not allowed to record him, however, so there is no footage.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh.” Peter tossed his blankets back and went to the bedroom window, looking out. It was still dark, but he could see the faint light that was off in the distance telling him that the day was starting. “How did he get in?” he asked, curiously. “We don’t have a chimney.”

“I let him in.”

“Wow.”

><>><><><>< 

“Peter’s awake.”

The announcement woke Tony from an interesting dream, and he mumbled, sleepily, for a moment as he allowed himself to wake up. Then he looked at the time.

“He just woke up?”

“Yes.”

“Slept all night?”

“Indeed he did.”

“Good for him.” Tony tossed his blankets aside and headed for the bathroom. “Is he excited?” he asked his AI.

“He asked if Santa had come and I advised he did. Then he asked how he managed to gain entrance without a chimney.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I let him in – but that I’m not allowed to video him, so there isn’t any evidence.”

“Smart.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.”

Tony chuckled at that and washed his hands.

“Well, this is going to be an interesting morning, isn’t it?”

“It is. Good luck, sir.”

“Thanks.” He put slippers on, but didn’t bother to get dressed. Peter was waiting, after all, and he wasn't a monster. Wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and rubbing his jaw and trying to wake up. “Start some coffee, will you?”

Tony walked to the door to Peter’s room and tapped, softly, before opening it and peeking his head inside. The boy was sitting on his bed, still dressed in pajamas, but he was clearly wide awake and excited. He was hugging himself and practically vibrating.

“Hi, Tony.”

Stark smiled.

“Merry Christmas, buddy. Santa came. Come take a look.”

Peter sprang from the bed as if he’d been shot from a cannon, but he caught Tony’s hand rather than run out into the living room like the billionaire expected. The two walked into the living room, and Peter stopped, his eyes wide and reflecting the lights of the Christmas tree.

“Wow…” Tony let his hand go and Peter went over to the robot. “Cool.”

“Yeah, it is. Santa must be part engineer, huh?”

“Or maybe his elves?” Peter asked, running a hand along the plastic casing. “Neat.”

“Look,” Tony said, pointing at the stocking, which was bulging with gifts and candy. “He filled up your stocking, too.”

“Wow.”

Peter walked over and Tony handed it down to him.

“Why don’t you look and see what’s in it while I make some coffee and start breakfast?”

“Can I?”

“Sure. Just don’t eat any candy, okay? I don’t want you spoiling your breakfast.”

He brushed his hand along the top of Peter’s head when the boy climbed onto the couch, taking the stocking with him, excitedly. Then he went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee and started making breakfast, smiling and looking toward the living room every time he heard Peter exclaim over something that he’d pulled from the stocking.

Tony knew it was filled little things, mainly. There were several different Hot Wheels that would go well with the racetrack that he’d bought the boy. Legos, of course – a set of DC comic characters, like the Avengers ones, only not anywhere near as cool. Batman didn’t hold a candle to Captain America, after all. Even Tony knew that. But one of the gifts under the tree was a Lego Batmobile set and there were plenty of other uses for it. A pen and pencil set. New mittens that would match the new winter coat that was also under the tree in one of the boxes.

And a plethora of brightly wrapped candies of all shapes and sizes.

Eager to go back out to join the boy, Tony whipped together a quick breakfast of sandwiches made with bacon, eggs and cheese, put them on two plates and carried them out to the coffee table rather than make Peter leave his prize to come eat in the kitchen.

“Look, Tony!”

Acting surprised, Stark seated himself and rummaged through the toys and other trinkets while Peter wolfed down his breakfast, washing it down with a glass of milk. Tony ate his breakfast, too, wanting to be a good example, but when Peter finished, the adult set his plate aside, stacking it on Santa’s empty one and adding Peter’s.

“Ready for some presents?”

The boy nodded, excitedly.

“Can we unwrap the piano?”

“We’ll do that one last.”

><><><>< 

The next hour was fun. Both for Peter, and for Tony. He watched the boy go under the tree time after time after time, bringing out yet another present. Most of them were for Peter, but occasionally he would get a happy gleam in his eyes when he realized it was something that he’d gotten for Tony. The man was surprised, because he’d never seen many of them.

“When did you get this?” he asked Peter after the third gift was opened to reveal a tie. A nice tie, too, not some cheap one that Tony had to pretend to like. “I love it.”

“JARVIS helped me pick it out,” Peter said, looking both shy and pleased that his gift was so well received. “One night when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Let me guess,” Tony said. “You had it delivered when we were gone and stashed under the tree?”

Peter smiled and nodded.

“I wanted to make sure you got something you liked.”

“Well I love it, thank you.”

He loved the coffee mug that Peter made even more, though, and kept it close by as he watched the youngster unwrap the race track, several new boardgames, an adapter kit, a new cell phone, more arts and crafts stuff, and even a football.

“This is a lot of stuff,” Peter said, sitting back beside Tony, holding a particularly intricate bow that was bright gold and red.

Tony couldn’t help but notice that he sounded a little concerned.

“You like it, though, right?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing.”

“Then why don’t you look as happy as I was hoping that you would?”

“I am happy,” Peter assured him.

“But…?”

The boy hesitated.

“I can’t fit it all in my backpack.”

Tony forced down the ache that he felt for Peter just then, and instead reached out and touched his cheek.

“Interesting that you say that,” he said. “I have a solution.”

“Bigger backpack?” Peter asked.

“Something like that,” was the reply. “Let’s go unwrap the piano.”

Chapter Text

He got up, pulling Peter up into his arms when he did. The little boy went willingly – eagerly, even.

“I thought it was a clarinet?”

“Well… I might be wrong. Now that you mention it, it does kind of look a little bit like a piano...” He set Peter down on one side and took the other, the looked at him, expectantly, when he took hold of an edge of the wrapping paper that was covering it. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Go.”

They ripped into the paper with gusto, and between the two of them soon had it unwrapped, paper littering the floor in various sizes. Sure enough, it was, indeed, a piano. A beautiful black baby grand, with a matching seat.

“It’s nice,” Peter said, running his fingers along the side.

“Yeah, it is.” Tony had unwrapped the bench while Peter had finished with the legs, and he sat down, patting the seat beside him. “My mom used to play the piano,” he told Peter.

“She did?” he asked, climbing up to sit beside him, but watching him.

“Yup. We’d sit together, sometimes, like this, and she’d show me how to play.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was.” He opened the top, propping it up, and then reached in and pulled out a manilla envelope. “Let me ask you something…”

“What?”

“What would you think if I wanted to keep you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to be just your foster dad, anymore, buddy,” Tony told him. “I was thinking that maybe I could be your real dad. Legally, anyway.”

Peter frowned.

“I don’t understand.”

“Because I’m not saying it right.” He was pretty nervous, after all, and the carefully prepared speech that he’d gone over a million times in his head before going to sleep the night before had been forgotten. “I really like you, Peter. Even more than like. I love having you here, with me. I think you’re a great guy, and you’re alone, and I’m alone, and I was thinking that if I were to maybe adopt you, then neither of us had to be alone, anymore.”

“You want to adopt me?”

“I do,” Tony confirmed. “You know what that means, right?”

“Like people adopt babies.”

“Right. But it doesn’t have to be a baby. It can be anyone they love. I lie in bed thinking about you, sometimes,” he said, brushing his hand along Peter’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “And I worry that someone from the state might decide that you should be moved to a different foster home, and the thought of them taking you away from me, again, makes me ache inside. So, if I were to adopt you, they couldn’t ever take you away from me, again. No one could.”

“I’d be your son?”

“In every way possible, yes. I mean, I know I’m not your biological dad, but I love you. I want you to stay with me. Forever.”

Peter’s expression was a mixture of hope and awe.

“You could do that?”

“We could,” Tony said. “If you wanted to…”

Peter’s eyes widened, as something suddenly dawned on him.

“Then I wouldn’t have to move, again, would I?”

“Not unless we wanted to…” Tony gathered Peter into his arms, pulling him up onto his lap. “What do you think of the idea?”

“I’d be your son?” He repeated, as if he couldn’t believe the concept.

Or maybe just the idea that Tony wanted that as much as Peter did.

“You would,” Stark confirmed, feeling his eyes sting with tears at just how amazed Peter sounded at the thought. It was almost humbling to realize anyone wanted him that badly, really. Or to think that he was worthy of that kind of wonder. “And I’d be your dad. What do you think?”

There was a sniff.

“I’d like that, Tony. More than anything.”

They were quiet for a long time, just holding onto each other, but Stark’s rear was getting numb from the hard piano seat. He squeezed Peter, tightly, for a moment, before releasing him, and found that he had to clear his throat around the lump that had somehow found its way there. With Peter still on his lap, he reached for the manilla envelope, so similar to the one that the boy kept in his backpack, and show it to him.

“These are the papers,” he told him. “I wasn't going to sign them until you said yes, but I’m assuming it’s safe to do so, now?”

Peter nodded.

“You can use my pen,” he offered. “The one Santa brought me in my stocking.”

“Thank you.”

Peter slid off the piano bench, and Tony got to his feet. He went into the kitchen and stood at the island, watching as Peter went to get the pen set from the coffee table and bring it over. The little boy climbed into his chair and watched, almost breathlessly, as Tony pulled a thick stack of papers from the envelope.

“That’s a lot of stuff to sign.”

“I’d sign a million more if that’s what it took,” Tony assured him, making Peter smile.

He took the pen from Peter and began on the first page, working his way through them, methodically, reading everything quickly, just to make sure there weren’t any provisions or exclusions that had him being forced to give Peter back to the state’s care for any reason. The billionaire smiled when he saw that Pepper had thoughtfully added a single sheet of paper into the middle of the stack. It was official-looking, but not a part of the actual document, and Tony signed the top line, dating it.

Then he set it in front of Peter.

“What’s this?” Peter asked.

“You have to sign, too,” Tony told him. “Saying that you want to be my son.”

The boy took the pen and scrawled his name on the line next to the red x that had been placed there.

“Wow…”

Stark smiled, watching with almost as much awe as Peter. He took the paper back and set that one to the side, then went to work on the others, again, while Peter watched, breathlessly.

“That’s the last of it,” Tony finally said, crossing the last t with a flourish. “Pepper will turn these in, and a judge will sign off on it, and then you’re my son.”

“When will that happen?”

“I’ll see what she’s doing, later, and she can see if there’s a judge that has a kid who wants a Christmas visit from Ironman to make up for pulling him or her away from whatever they’re doing, today. How does that sound?”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” Tony hesitated. “You have to decide something, though. A couple of somethings, really, but one is pretty important, so I want you to think about it for a bit, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Well…” Tony said, putting the papers back in the envelope – except the one that Peter had signed, too. “Just because you’re my son, it doesn’t mean that you have to stop being Peter Parker. You get to decide what you want to be called.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can keep being Peter Parker,” Tony explained. “Or you can decide to have your last name changed to mine, and you can be Peter Stark.”

“I can?”

“If you want.”

“Peter Stark sounds pretty neat, doesn’t it?”

“It sounds incredible,” the man agreed. “But think about it, okay?”

Peter nodded.

“You said a couple of things…” he reminded Tony. “What else do I have to decide?”

“I know you don’t like to move,” Tony said. “But I was thinking that you might like living in a house better than an apartment, and that we might look for a place to move to. Somewhere with some grass and maybe a tree for you to climb in the summer.”

“And a swimming pool in the back yard?”

“That could be arranged.”

Peter hesitated.

“What about JARVIS?”

“What about him?”

“He’d come, too?”

“Of course. We couldn’t leave JARVIS behind.”

“Wow.”

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, but Tony picked him up and wrapped his arms around the boy.

 “I love you, Peter.”

The boy hugged him, close, tucking his face against Tony’s neck.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

Assuming that Peter might be feeling a little (maybe a lot) overwhelmed by the morning’s activities, conversations and decisions, Tony carried the boy over to the sofa and settled himself there, with Peter still in his arms on his lap. He was feeling overwhelmed, too – and he wasn't eight. Peter went willingly, feeling drained and happy and a million other emotions that he didn’t even recognize.

When Tony sat down, the boy shifted just enough so that his ear was close to the man’s chest and he lay still, listening to his heart beating, and feeling the thrumming against his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Tony asked him, softly, after twenty minutes or so of them just sitting, watching the fire.

“Yeah.” Peter tilted his head up, but didn’t move it from where it was resting. “I just don’t believe it, is all.”

“Which part?”

“That you want to keep me.”

“I do,” Tony assured him. “It actually makes my insides hurt when I think about someone else getting to raise you.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow…” Tony echoed. “Besides,” he added. “You can stick to walls and lift a million pounds. I certainly can’t trust anyone else to be your dad. They might turn you into a super villain, or something.”

“All the super villains are doctors,” Peter pointed out. “If I don’t be a doctor, then I won’t be a villain, right?”

It was hard to argue with the logic of an eight-year-old, Tony knew.

“Well, I’ll feel better if I’m near at hand, to keep you out of trouble,” Stark told him, not bothering to correct the grammar, either. “Are you okay sitting with me? If you want to get up, you can. I know you have a ton of new toys to try out – and that model isn’t going to build itself.”

“I like it here…” Peter told him, contentedly. “When are you going to call Pepper and tell her?”

“Pretty soon. I’m pretty comfortable, right now, and it’s still early, yet.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Besides, we kept her up pretty late, last night, so she might have slept in.”

“Oh.”

“I was thinking that we should do something to celebrate,” Tony said. “Once it’s official. The adoption, I mean.”

“Have a cake?”

“Right. Something like that,” he agreed. “Only bigger.”

“A bigger cake?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused.

“A bigger celebration. Maybe a trip?”

“To the zoo?”

He smiled, even though Peter couldn’t see it.

“You’re not thinking big enough, buddy,” he chided, gently. Of course, Peter wasn't used to the idea of having anything he wanted – any time that he wanted it. He would, though, if Tony had his way. “I was thinking someplace warm. And fun. Someplace you’d enjoy – even more than the zoo.”

“Where?”

“Disneyland? Disneyworld? Something like that?”

Peter sat up a little, and shifted, his bony knee digging into the muscle of Tony’s thigh. His eyes were wide, though.

“Really?”

“Why not? Have you ever been?”

“No.”

“Well, we’ll talk about it a little more once the dust settles.”

“Okay.”

“Which doesn’t mean we have to go there,” Tony added, shifting to move Peter’s knee from his leg. He didn’t weigh much but that was the pointiest knee he’d ever felt. “You get to make decisions, too. I don’t expect you to just go along with everything I tell you – unless it’s something you like, too. Yeah?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

The boy flopped back against Tony’s chest, again, resuming the spot that he definitely preferred, and closed his eyes when he felt the billionaire put his arms around him to hold him there. They were silent, again, for another short while, and Peter relaxed so much that he was almost asleep when he spoke, next.

“Tony…?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can I be Peter Stark?”

Tony smiled, even though Peter didn’t see it, but the boy felt the fingers sifting through his hair.

“I’d like that, Peter.”

“Peter Stark…”

“Peter Benjamin Stark,” Tony added.

“You know my middle name?” Peter asked, sleepily surprised.

“Of course, I do.”

“Wow.”

<><><><><> 

Peter dozed in Tony’s arms for the better part of an hour.

Stark didn’t mind; he was comfortable, and wanted to spend some quiet time with the child. It was fine to have the avengers over spending time with himself and Peter – they were a team, after all, and it was important that they didn’t only spend time together when there was a crisis – and Pepper was always good company (when she wasn't annoyed with him) but he wanted some down time with Peter, alone, just then. The boy needed time to allow what was happening to sink in, and really, Tony did, too.

A little peace and quiet was a good way to start things. And a fine way to pass Christmas morning, as far as he was concerned. Better than nursing a hangover, for certain, and he’d done that on more than one occasion.

Eventually, Peter roused, and with a cheerful tousling of his hair, Tony sent him off to his room to get dressed. They had a couple of gifts to take over to the Tatro’s, after all, and Tony thought that maybe he and Peter could go find something for lunch. Breakfast had been eaten, quickly, after all.

To tide himself over, he grabbed a couple of granola bars, and left a banana and one of the granola bars on the island for Peter. Then he went to take a shower. When he came out of his room dressed, now, in jeans and a sweatshirt, Peter was in the kitchen at the island, playing with the Lego DC characters and the Hot Wheels.

The banana peel and granola bar wrapper were proof that the boy had found his snack.

“Ready?” Tony asked, walking over and picking up a racecar and then rolling it across the countertop to crash with a satisfying thump against the wrapped gift basket that they were going to take to Eric and his wife. It had several packages of candies, crackers, cheeses, and meats, but Tony had also interspersed these mundane items with several gift cards to grocery stores, electronic stores, and the mall. Totaling several thousand dollars, it was a way for Tony to thank the man and his wife for being so kind to Peter – and also to assist them with taking care of the next boys that would inevitably come into their home and need love and support. “I don’t want to be out too late. Especially if it gets busy.”

Peter nodded, tucking Batman into his pocket and hopping down off his chair.

“Yeah.”

Tony noticed, of course, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn't going to let it slide, though. Peter was – of course – going to be allowed to play with Lego Batman, but Tony had no intention of letting Bruce Wayne be Peter’s go-to superhero. The Lego Ironman was in Peter’s backpack, now, in a place of honor, but Tony rather liked the idea of Peter putting it in his pocket to carry around if he needed to.

“Let’s go, then. I’ll call Pepper on the way.”

“Okay.”

They grabbed up their gifts, their coats and Tony settled a warm hat on Peter’s head and then they left.

Chapter Text

“You’re adopting him?”

Tony nodded, taking a sip of the coffee that Eric had offered him, and watching as Peter played with Ned under the watchful eye of Eric’s wife, who was in the living room helping a couple of the other boys assemble what looked like a Lego Empire Strikes Back fighter.

“The papers are already signed,” he confirmed. “I’ve been advised not to make any public announcement, right away, to give Peter a chance to adjust to the idea before he gets thrown into the spotlight of the press and paparazzi that comes with being associated with me. So don’t spread it around, please.”

“Of course.”

Pepper had been pleased when Tony had called her with the news that Peter had said yes, and she’d been the first to congratulate them both – even though it was just over the phone. She’d been the one to suggest keeping the news low-key, for now, and Peter had agreed not to tell anyone. Except the avengers, of course. He wanted to let them know.

Pepper had ended the call, saying that she’d find a judge to approve the papers that very day, and that she’d let Tony know where he needed to be – and when. By then, they were pulling up to the Tatro’s and it had been enjoyable for Tony to watch Peter greeting Eric and his wife and handing over the gift basket that practically dwarfed the little boy.

Since they didn’t have anywhere that they needed to be – just yet – Tony had accepted the offer of a cup of coffee and another snack to tide he and Peter over for a while.

“Anything you think I should know?” Tony asked, only half joking. “I don’t have any experience with the dad thing.”

Eric smiled, gesturing with his free hand toward the boy in the living room.

“He’s happy,” the big man pointed out. “That’s the goal. You just keep doing whatever it takes to make that happen. Peter’s pretty level-headed for someone who’s had the rough time that he’s had. Most of that is that his mom and dad did a good job giving him a good start on life. Your job will be to finish where they left off, really.” He shrugged. “You’re already proving that you’re willing to spend time with him. That’s important. Play catch with him, take him to the park. Maybe sign him up for T-ball in the summer, or something, so he can learn team dynamics.”

Tony nodded, taking mental notes. The guy knew a lot more about young boys than he did, after all.

“That’s a-“ he was interrupted by a call, and apologized as he took it. A minute later, though, he was smiling as he put his phone away. “We have a date with a judge,” he told Eric. “I’m afraid we need to cut our visit short.”

Eric smiled, too, and offered Tony his hand.

“You have my number, if there’s anything I can do.”

Tony shook it.

“Likewise. If you ever need anything…”

“Call Peter’s billionaire superhero dad,” Eric finished. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Stark smirked, and the two men went into the living room to allow Peter a chance to say his goodbyes before Tony hustled him back out into the car.

><<><><>< 

The judge didn’t look like any of the judges that Peter had seen in the movies. He was about Tony’s age, probably, and wasn't wearing a black gown, and he wasn't holding a gavel. He was wearing jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and boots that were well worn in and warm. The man smiled when Peter and Tony walked into his office, and Peter saw Pepper standing next to a desk that had a few chairs around it.

“Mr. Stark,” he said, offering Tony his hand. “I’m glad to meet you.”

“Judge Rhyme,” Tony knew who he was, of course, since Pepper had briefed him on his way to the man’s office. “Thank you so much for being willing to see us, today.”

The man nodded, smiling down at Peter, who was shyly peeking out from behind Tony’s leg.

“I’m glad to do it. Hello, Peter.”

“Hi.”

Tony smiled, too, and brought his hand to Peter’s shoulder.

“Come on out, buddy,” he said, amused. “He’s a friend.”

Peter did as he was told, but he kept his arm around Tony’s leg, anchoring himself to the man for the support and reassurance that the touch provided.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” the judge asked the boy, kindly.

“Yes. I got a Lego Batman.”

“Wow. With the Batmobile?”

Peter smiled, nodding.

“And a Batcave, but I have to build it, still.”

“That’s amazing.” It was clear he was used to dealing with intimidated children and putting them at ease. Tony was impressed. “Come sit down for a minute.”

Peter did as he was told, climbing into the chair that was offered to him and watching as the judge walked behind his desk and sat down, too.

“Mr. Stark wants to adopt you, Peter.”

“Yeah.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“Do you understand what that means?”

“He doesn’t want to be my foster dad. He wants to be my real dad, instead.”

“Right. What do you think about that?”

“I like it.”

“Yeah?” The judge smiled. “Do you think you’d like to live with him, permanently?”

“More than anything.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He glanced at Tony and then back to the boy he was interrogating. “What did you have for breakfast, this morning?”

“Bacon and egg sandwiches. And orange juice.”

“Before or after you opened presents?”

“Before.”

The judge’s expression was amused.

“Good to hear.” He looked at Pepper, expectantly. “You have the papers?”

“I do.”

She’d been closer to Tony’s and had stopped by his apartment to pick them up before coming to the meeting. Reaching into a bag, she handed over the manilla envelope and they all watched as the judge pulled the papers out and looked them over, carefully.

“I signed it, too,” Peter said, helpfully.

“I see that.” Pepper had added the special paper that had been made just for Peter to have a chance to be a part of the process, and the judge looked it over, recognizing it for what it was, immediately. “Your signature is much neater than Mr. Stark’s.”

Peter beamed, looking over at Tony, who winked at him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The other man pulled a pen from a holder on his desk and signed three of the papers, and then put them all back in the envelope. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “He’s yours, Mr. Stark.”

“Just like that?” Tony asked, surprised.

He’d honestly thought there’d be a lot of questions for him. A way to make Tony prove that he was capable of taking care of a small human before the judge actually turned Peter over to him, officially.

The judge smiled.

“Just like that. He seems willing, and he’s been in your care for a while, now, and he’s still alive. You obviously know that he needs to eat regular meals and wear warm clothes. That and the fact that he hid behind you when meeting me tells me all I need to know. Congratulations. He’s a cute little guy. I’m sure you two are going to be great together.”

Tony’s answering smile was pleased, and he offered the man his hand.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s standard for my office to file the papers, which will then be a matter of public record, but I’ll instruct my staff to keep it to themselves. There might be a tabloid that has people monitoring these activities, but no one will find out from us.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I’d offer to take you all out to celebrate, but my wife expects me home by dinner.”

“We appreciate your time, James,” Pepper said. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He turned to Peter. “It was good to meet you, Peter.”

“Thanks.”

><><><><><> 

“What are you doing for dinner?” Tony asked Pepper a few minutes later when they were in the mostly deserted parking garage.

“I’m meeting a couple of friends.” She was pleased by the question, though, because she knew that had she said she didn’t have anything interesting planned, Tony would have invited her to eat with them. “What are you two doing?”

“We’re going to go home and I’m going to heat up leftovers from last night.”

“And there’s a lot of trash to pick up,” Peter added.

They’d left plenty of wrapping paper on the floor, especially around the piano.

“Are you coming in, tomorrow?” Pepper asked Tony.

“Do I need to?”

The tower was going to be open, of course, but there wasn't going to be much work being done, Tony knew. Technically the holiday wasn't over until the new year.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she replied. “There are several things that you’re going to need to take care of – for Peter, I mean. I’ll get the list made up sometime in the morning. If you come in after lunch and make a half day out of it, we can get everything done.”

“I’ll be there at one,” he promised. “Thank you for everything.”

She smiled at that.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you, tomorrow.”

She hugged Peter (because he was too cute not to) and they watched as she got into her car and drove off.

Tony looked down at Peter.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“So am I. Let’s go home.”

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Since neither had eaten a real meal since breakfast, they were hungry. Peter picked up the remaining wrapping paper on the floor while Tony heated up leftover ham, potatoes and then opened a can of green beans to round it out. Rolls heated in the oven added a little more to the meal and Peter watched with interest as Tony put loaded plates onto the table and a glass of milk beside Peter’s place.

“We need to make a few decisions,” the billionaire told the child after they’d seated themselves to eat.

“About what?” Peter asked, stuffing a roll into his mouth, hungrily.

“Chew that,” Tony told him, immediately beset with visions of the little guy choking. “And don’t take such big bites, okay?”

Peter nodded, chewing happily, but before Tony could continue the conversation, JARVIS interrupted.

“Call from Natasha Romanoff.”

“Connect call,” Tony said, simply speaking into the air. The good thing about having the technical capabilities that he had in his apartment. An advantage to JARVIS running it all. “Agent Romanoff?” he said by way of greeting. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” came Natasha’s voice, cheerful enough that Peter smiled. “What are you guys up to?”

“We are having dinner,” Tony told her. “Was Santa kind to you?”

“I found a necklace that will go amazingly well with the dress Peter got me.”

“Nice.”

“Are you working, next week?”

She wasn't one for small talk, Tony knew.

“I have some things to take care of at the tower,” he confirmed. “Tomorrow, at least – maybe something on Tuesday, I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

“Because we want to show Peter his new ball pit.”

“You mean Peter Stark?” Tony asked, winking at the boy. “My son?”

There was a startled pause – even though she knew that he’d been planning to ask. She hadn’t known about the name change, after all – or that it might happen so quickly.

“You did it?” she asked, somehow managing to sound awed, shocked and cheerful all in the same question. “You asked?”

“I did,” Tony confirmed, winking at the boy, who smiled. “And Peter said yes. Pepper had us in front of a judge faster than I’d have thought possible, and he signed off on it. The details are one of the things that I’ll be taking care of, tomorrow.”

“Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Peter added, roll finally swallowed.

“Peter?” Natasha said, and now she was addressing the boy. “Want to come to the compound, tomorrow instead of hanging out at daycare while Tony’s working?”

The boy looked at Tony, hopefully, and Stark nodded.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to bring him up?” Tony offered.

“Nope. Someone will come get him.”

“Someone I know,” Tony clarified. “I’m not handing him over to a stranger.”

“It’ll be me, or Steve,” she confirmed. “Pack for an overnight, sweetheart,” Natasha said, again talking to the boy – at least Tony assumed that she was. “That way if we talk Tony into letting us keep you, you’ll have something to sleep in.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll come get him early,” Romanoff added. “By eight, or so.”

“He’ll be ready.”

She signed off and Tony smiled at Peter.

“I think Natasha might have a bit of a crush on you.”

Peter smiled.

“What did you mean when you said we needed to decide some things…?” Peter asked, curiously.

“I was going to say that you needed to decide if you wanted to hang out with me in my office, or go to daycare, tomorrow, but that isn’t a question, now.”

“Oh.”

“Another decision was what do we want to do this week,” Tony added. “Aside from spending time with the others at the compound, I want to spend some time with you – just the two of us. We could go somewhere, or we can hang out here, if you prefer. But we can worry about that, later.” Their dinner was getting cold, after all. “Eat.”

Peter did as he was told, willingly, turning his attention to his meal. He was hungry, and was a little numb, too. It had all happened so quickly, really. Christmas eve, he was a foster kid, and Christmas day, he was Peter Stark. At least he would be when all of the name change documents were filled out. He shivered, a mixture of anticipation, and eagerness, as well as hope and awe. He would look over at Tony, occasionally, as he made his way through his meal, and every now and then Tony would glance over at him, too, and smile.

“You could stay overnight at the compound,” he finally told the boy, when they were almost finished eating. “If you want.”

“Are you coming?”

“Yes. I’ll put my suit on and fly out. That way I’m not home all by myself, tomorrow night. I’m used to having you around, after all. I’d miss you.”

“Can I watch?”

“Watch what?”

“You fly in the suit. I saw it, once, at the expo, and that time at the compound, but it’d still be neat.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Tony smiled. “You’ll see it often, I imagine. So many times, it’ll be boring.”

“Is it boring for you?” Peter asked.

“Nope. I get a thrill every time.”

“Me, too.”

Tony shook his head, and then stood up.

“Are you done?”

“Yeah.”

“Still hungry?”

“No.”

“Want dessert?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. We’re not going anywhere else, tonight. Why don’t you get changed for bed, and we’ll try out some of the new toys Santa brought you.”

Peter hesitated.

“Can I play your piano?”

“It’s not my piano, buddy,” Tony told him. “it’s ours. And yes, you can play it whenever you want – as long as it isn’t the middle of the night when you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Go get changed, okay? I’ll clean up the dishes and meet you there.”

“Okay.”

He cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher and was wiping the counters down when Peter came out of his bedroom wearing a new pair of pajamas that Tony had bought him. They were basically sweats and a long-sleeved sweatshirt and were soft and warm; designed for cold winter nights. They were also Ironman themed. Peter also had slippers on, but they were Captain America themed and the gold and red of the pajamas clashed a little with the red, white and blue shields on the slippers.

“Looking good,” Tony said, as he walked over and joined the boy at the piano. “Weren’t there Ironman slippers to go with those pajamas?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t expound on why he hadn’t bothered to match the slippers with the outfit, and Tony just shrugged and sat down, watching as Peter climbed onto the piano bench beside him. “This is a pretty piano. I like it.”

“It looks the one my mom taught me to play on,” Tony agreed, running his fingertips along the smooth finish.

“You know how to play?” Peter asked, impressed.

The guy was a superhero and he could play piano. Was there anything that he couldn’t do?

“I haven’t played in a long time,” Tony told him. “But, yes. There was a time when I would have said I was pretty good.”

Of course, he’d never in his life ever have admitted to being mediocre at anything.

“Wow.”

“Don’t sound too amazed,” Tony told him. “It’s been a while. I might suck.”

Chapter Text

They had a good time.

Tony hadn’t played in a while, but he had been formally trained by his mother, who had been a perfectionist in everything that she did. He could read music, easily, and there were a few songs included with the instrument. Once the rust had been shaken off, he was good, and his fingers flew across the keyboard, the notes coming to mind as if he were back in his youth sitting beside her. Peter was littler, of course, and had only been playing a few years. He’d learned before his parents had died, and when he’d moved in with May, the lessons had stopped. Obviously when he’d been placed into foster care they hadn’t been started up – although Eric had promised that if there was time he’d see about making it happen, again.

He had a good ear, though, and as Tony played something, the little boy would repeat it. Or, even better, would play around the tune the billionaire was playing. They both enjoyed the time – it was a reminder of their mothers, and a time when each had a simpler life. It was also a good chance for them to bond over something that wasn't superhero related.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Tony told the boy when he finally called a halt.

His fingers were sore.

Peter blushed with pleasure.

“You are, too. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was,” Stark agreed. He was surprised when he looked at the clock and realized how late it was. “We should probably get you to bed. Especially if we have to make sure you’re up and ready to go by eight o’clock.”

“I’m not sleepy,” Peter told him.

“No?”

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“No.”

Tony got to his feet and pulled Peter up into his arms.

“JARVIS? Do we have any knockout gas?”

“We are out.”

“How about a big rock?”

Peter giggled, holding Tony as the billionaire carried him into his bedroom.

“You can’t use a rock,” he chided. “Pepper and Natasha wouldn’t like that.”

“How about we settle you in bed and I read to you?”

“I know how to read…”

“But it’s a dad thing,” Tony pointed it out. “And I’ve never had a reason to do it, before. Now I do. Please?”

Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

Tony put him into his bed, covering him up, warmly, and then went to the bookshelf.

“Harry Potter?”

“No.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

“No.”

“Advanced calculous?”

“As a bedtime story?”

Stark shrugged, looking back at the shelf.

“How about Charlotte’s Web?”

“What’s it about?”

“A pig and a spider.”

“You read it?”

“That’s what’s on the cover.”

“Oh.” The boy shrugged. “Okay.”

Tony carried the book over to the bed and sidled up beside the boy. He felt warm and gooey inside when Peter shifted so that he could put his head on Tony’s stomach. That way he could look at the book, but still be comfortable – and close.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Comfy?”

Peter nodded, and surprised himself by yawning.

“Yeah.” He looked up at the man, though. “Tony?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You told Natasha I was your son, now.”

“Because you are.”

“But not really.”

“In every way that matters.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” He put an arm around Peter – the one that didn’t have the book in that hand – and hugged him close. “It’ll take some getting use to, I know. For both of us. But I’m going to treat you like you’re my son, and eventually, maybe you’ll believe it.”

“And I can treat you like you’re my dad?”

“Yeah. Of course. I mean, you can’t start being rebellious, though. You have to give me at least a few years before you start getting angsty and obnoxious.”

Peter smiled at that.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“We’ll see. JARVIS? Save a recording of what Peter just said to archival files. Label it appropriately, and then remind me it’s there when Peter turns thirteen.”

“Noted.”

The boy giggled, and then sighed.

“I’m glad you’re going to be my dad.”

“Not going to be,” Tony corrected him. “Am your dad. Are your dad. Is?” He scowled. “I am your father…”

Peter was movie nerd enough to catch the reference.

“Nooooooo!”

Tony chuckled at that, and hugged him.

“Now that we have that settled, pipe down, close your eyes and listen to me read to you.”

“Okay.”

Stark licked his finger and opened the book to the first page. Then he stuck that wet finger in Peter’s ear, making the boy squirm. Grinning, he used the Ironman pajamas to dry him, and set to reading.

Peter made it through the first chapter and a half before the day caught up to him and he fell asleep. Tony didn’t notice, immediately, and then, when he did, he continued to read a little more – just to make sure. He carefully set the book on the stand next to the boy’s bed and pulled away, situating him and then covering him, warmly.

He leaned over, brushed a kiss against Peter’s forehead and then left, closing the door behind him.

“Let me know if he wakes up, JARVIS.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee and then turned on his tablet.

There was always research to do, and he wasn't ready to sleep, yet.

“JARVIS. Bring up all the footage we have of Peter’s skills, will you? The weird skills,” he added. Peter had a lot of skills, after all. “Sticking to the walls and the strength thing.”

He hadn’t forgotten the boy’s abilities, but they had been put on the back burner in favor of the holidays, the Santa thing and – even better – the adoption thing. Now, though, he wanted to go over those talents, again, at his leisure. Just to see if he and his AI could figure out a way to help Peter learn to use them.

The strength thing wasn't complicated, but the sticking to everything definitely was.

As he watched the videos, over and over, though, the only thing he could think of to figure that out was to experiment. Not on Peter, he told himself. But with him. Maybe help him learn how to unstick himself. He wondered it was mental, or if it was something that the boy wouldn’t be able to control. Did it work through a lot of layers? He’d had shoes on and stuck to the wall, but maybe it had all been his hands, using his strength to hold him up,

“JARVIS? Extrapolate all data you have observing Peter – in his daily life as well as when the odd things have happened. See if you can see any comparisons to any particular insect. If we can figure out what bit him, maybe we’ll get a better idea of what we can expect as he gets older.”

“Very good, sir.”

Chapter Text

“You guys look tired…”

Peter smiled at Natasha, but didn’t deny it. He felt tired, even though he’d slept through the night. When he’d woken the next morning, it had been because Tony was shaking his shoulder, gently, and telling him that they needed to get up and get him fed so he’d be ready when whoever it was that was coming for him got there.

He actually found himself wanting to go back to sleep, and Tony had chuckled at the sleepiness, and cajoled him, gently, until Peter had finally rolled out of his warm, comfortable bed and gone to get changed.

“I’m exhausted,” Tony confirmed, rubbing his face, tiredly. “I stayed up too late, last night – and then got up too early this morning.”

“You’re supposed to be taking better care of yourself, Stark,” she chided. “You’re a poppa, now.”

 Peter smiled at that, especially when she winked at him as she said it.

“I’m working on it,” Tony assured her.

“Did he eat?”

“Cereal and a banana. Make sure he eats a big lunch. And call if he needs anything.”

Natasha picked up Peter’s backpack, and then scooped the little boy up into her arms, cheerfully.

“If he needs anything, then we’ll get it for him. No sense in bothering the old man, now is there?”

Tony rolled his eyes, amused and secretly loving the various ways she was referring to him as Peter’s dad. It was exactly what he wanted. Hopefully it would get Peter used to the idea. And maybe help Tony get used to it, too.

“What old man?” Peter asked, curiously, resting his cheek on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I’ll explain on the way to the compound,” she promised. “Do you have everything you need?”

He nodded, and turned to Tony.

“You’re coming, tonight?”

“As soon as I’m done at the tower, I’ll suit up and be there before you even notice I was gone.”

 “Okay.” Tony put his hand on Peter’s head. “Have fun.”

“I will.”

“He will, Tony,” Romanoff assured him. “We tricked the gym out, just for him.”

“Keep him out of trouble.”

“Will do,” He watched them head for the elevator and then closed the door and went to get a shower.

><><><><>

“Is there really a ball pit at the compound?” Peter asked, excitedly.

Natasha nodded, looking at the little boy who was sitting in the seat beside her. Like Tony’s sportscar, Natasha’s car was only two seats, so putting him in the back wasn't an option. She’d looked up how to make sure a small guy like Peter was as safe as he could be, and had made sure that he buckled in before they’d left the apartment building.

“Sam got you one, but when he and Steve put it together, it turned out to be a piece of junk, so Nick suggested that we get you a different one. A bigger one.”

“Wow.”

She smiled at that.

“Are you hungry? Do I need to stop anywhere and get you something more filling for breakfast?”

“I’m okay.”

He was silent, then, watching the buildings as they drove through the busy streets. Natasha turned up the heat in the car to make sure that he was comfortable.

“Tell me about Christmas,” she said. “How did Tony bring up the adoption thing with you?”

Peter had an excellent memory, and it had been important to him, so she heard everything as they drove out of the city and onto the highway that went north to the compound. From Tony asking him, to the trip to the judge’s office to sign the papers. Peter even told her about Tony mentioning that they might go to Disneyland, or something. She listened, making appropriate noises at all the right times, and smiled at the mention of the trip.

“That would be fun. Have you ever been?”

“Nope. I know Clint has been, but it’s one of those places that you don’t really go as an adult – unless you have a little kid to take with you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for kids, really. The adults have fun watching the kids have fun.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.” He was silent for a few miles. “Maybe we could go someplace that Tony will like, too.”

“I bet he’d have a good time watching you at Disney.”

“We could go someplace he’d enjoy,” Peter said, stubbornly. “Then I could watch him have fun.”

Since the boy was much too young to be in a strip club, Romanoff wisely didn’t reply to that. Instead she smiled.

“That sounds like something the two of you will need to discuss a bit,” she told him, amused.

“Yeah.”

Peter turned the tables on her, then, and started asking her what kind of places she would like, and then began interrogating her about what she and the others had done for Christmas day. It was a good way to spend a normally boring drive, and by the time she pulled her car up to the compound, Peter knew everything she could think of to tell him about their day.

With the roads being wet, although they weren’t slick, she hadn’t driven even close to as fast as she might normally have, but a call ahead made sure that there was someone at the entrance to meet them when they stopped at the main entrance.

“Peter!” Clint was the one to open his door, but it was Sam who unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him out of the car. “How are you doing?”

“Good.” The boy grinned at being handled like a bag of flour, and he smiled at Barton. “Hi, Clint.”

“Hey. Did you have a good Christmas?”

“It was great.”

“Tell them why,” Natasha suggested, getting out from behind the wheel and closing her door.

“Tony adopted me,” Peter told both men, his arm around Sam’s neck, but his body turned so he could see their reactions.

“No!” Sam’s eyes went wider, and Natasha was forced to suppress her amusement at the slightly over the top reaction. “He did?”

“Wait. Adopted?” Clint echoed, genuinely surprised. “It already happened?”

“Yesterday,” Romanoff confirmed. “Keep up, Clint. You’re talking to Peter Stark.”

“You’re going to take Stark’s name?” Sam asked.

Peter nodded.

“He said I can.”

“Of course you can,” Natasha told him, opening the back of her car and pulling out Peter’s backpack. “Before you know it, it’ll feel like second nature to be called that.”

“Whoa.”

“C’mon, Peter,” Natasha said, amused at the men’s reactions. “We’re going to put you in the same room that you stayed in last time.”

“Okay.”

He followed Natasha, who was leading them into the building, but Sam and Clint stayed at either side of him.

“We’re going to make it your official room,” Sam told him, looking cheerful. “So you have a place near Tony when you guys are out here.”

“Which better be often,” Romanoff said, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I hope so.”

He was hurrying to keep up with the pace that she was setting, so he couldn’t hug himself, but he was so excited to be back there. And the idea that he might be there more than just a couple times was almost enough to take his breath away. Clint reached down and swept him up into his strong arms.

“Nat, slow down. Peter has little legs, you long-legged freak.”

Of course, the archer hadn’t missed that Peter was falling behind.

She rolled her eyes, but did slow up, a little, and reached out and tweaked Peter’s nose, making him giggle.

“Sorry.”

“I like your legs,” he assured her.

“Ugh,” the assassin complained. “If only you were twenty or thirty years older…”

The two men chuckled, but Peter frowned.

“Why?”

Chapter Text

She smiled, and handed his bag to Sam so she could steal him from Clint.

“Because then I’d probably have to kiss you,” she teased, pressing her lips against his cheek and blowing a raspberry that made him giggle and squirm – and almost fall out of her arms.

His grip was strong, though, and he allowed himself to hang upside down for a moment, before she up-righted him.

“We modified the room for you,” Sam told him. “Clint helped – since he’s the only one of us that knows diddly shi- stuff – about little kids. But since it’s going to be your room, then it should be more comfortable than just a bed and a stand.”

They had reached the door, and Clint opened it for them, and Peter’s eyes grew wide.

“Wow.”

When he’d been there, before, the room had been an austere white, with a bed, stand and a small dresser. Now the walls were freshly painted blue. The bed was the same one as before, presumably, but the bedspread was red, white, and blue with Captain America shields as the repeating pattern. It was also the color of the pillowcases. There was still a stand by the bed, but now it had an Ironman lamp on it, and there was a small bookcase in the corner that held a bucket of Lego blocks, some toy cars and trucks and a few books.

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked, setting him on the bed.

“It’s great,” Peter assured her.

“Steve chose the bedding,” Sam said, unnecessarily. “But we guessed on the rest of it.”

“I like it.”

“You like that,” Sam said, smirking. “Wait until you see what else we did.”

“The ball pit?” Peter asked.

“That and a bit more.”

“Let’s go see,” Natasha said, looking pleased at his reaction.

They helped the boy get his coat off, since it wasn't cold in the compound at the moment, and then they walked – at Peter’s pace – to the gym.

The room was a large one, but now a corner by the bleachers was taken up by a large plastic mesh pen that was holding what had to be a million brightly colored balls. Peter ran over and looked at it, excited, and then looked up at the adults.

“What do I do?”

Clint rolled his eyes and picked the boy up. Then to Peter’s surprise, he tossed him into the pit. The balls were soft and gave way, and he yelped in happiness at the treatment. Under all of the many layers of balls, there was a foam bottom that cushioned the hardwood floor under the pit. Peter righted himself, and looked over – just in time to get hit in the head with a ball that Clint lobbed at him. The boy giggled and threw one back, and only the fact that the archer had amazing reflexes kept him from getting hit right between the eyes.

“Nice throw, little man.”

They watched as Peter waded through the balls, happily, sometimes ducking under them and ‘swimming’ through them, only to pop up elsewhere.

“Do you like it?” Natasha asked when she finally gestured for him to head back to them.

“It’s neat.” He smiled when Clint pulled him out – although there was also a ladder, he saw. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They looked over when Steve walked up, just then. The big man was dressed in a pair of jeans, thermal long-sleeved t-shirt that had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and another shirt over it. He smiled when he greeted Peter.

“Hey, Pete. What did you think of your room?”

“I like it.”

“You like the bedspread?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Make sure you tell Tony that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One more thing to show you,” Steve told him, reaching over to pluck him from Barton’s grasp. “But we have to go outside to see it.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, curiously.

“You’ll see.”

They all walked with the two as Steve crossed the gym and headed for the double doors that led outside. Peter gasped when Rogers opened the door and carried him out, stopping at the edge of the field that it opened out onto.

“Wow…”

It was a playset. Made of wood, there was a fort on the top, with a slide, and a pole, and coming off from the side was a wooden beam that ended several yards away. The beam supported a couple of swings before it ended with two others that supported it, in turn. Peter saw a ladder that led to the slide and looked over at them.

“This is for me?”

“And us,” Natasha said, clearly pleased at his reaction. “Sometimes it’s fun to swing…”

They let him have a chance to play on the playset for a few minutes, but Barton pointed out that he didn’t have his coat on, so they shouldn’t be outside, too long.

Besides, it was lunch time.

><><><><><>

“Phone call for you.”

Peter looked uncertain when Natasha handed him her phone only a few minutes after he’d finished eating lunch with her and the others. He took it, though.

“Hello?”

“Hey, buddy. How are you doing?”

The boy smiled when he recognized Tony’s voice.

“Hi. Good. They have a ball pit, and a play set in the field, and I have a bedroom here, just like back at your apartment.”

Tony’s chuckle was amused; he was clearly pleased at how happy Peter sounded.

“It’s our apartment,” he reminded the boy. “Not just mine.”

“Okay.”

“You had lunch?”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re going to play outside?”

Peter nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see it.

“On the play set. Steve built it.”

“I helped,” Sam added, rolling his eyes.

“Sam helped,” Peter added, dutifully.

“I’m running a little behind, here, but I’ll be there before too long,” Tony told him. “Have fun, okay?”

“I will,” Peter assured him. “I am.”

“Good. Let me talk to Natasha, again.”

The boy handed the phone back to Natasha, who winked at him as she took it.

“He had soup and crackers and a piece of cake,” she said before Stark could ask. “And we’ll make sure he’s warmly bundled in his coat and mittens.” There was silence as she listened to whatever the reply was, and then she nodded. “We’ll see you, later.”

She ended the call, and looked at Peter.

“Ready to go play?”

He smiled.

“Yeah.”

><><><>><><

“That’s the damnedest thing…”

“Right…?” Natasha wasn't the only one to shake her head as they watched Peter hanging upside down from the bottom of the fort. Clint was standing next to him, hands just barely touching him – just in case – but it was clear that the child was in no danger of falling. He was literally sticking to the wooden surface – even with shoes and socks on. “He’s amazing.”

Steve nodded, even though he’d seen it before. He hadn’t even realized that he’d cursed – although Sam and Natasha both did, of course.

“Did Tony figure out how he does it?” he asked, as Clint pulled the boy free, easily, and then tossed him up into the air, making Peter squeal, happily. “Blood tests, or labs, or something?”

“You think something in his blood is going to explain that?” Wilson asked.

“There has to be something.”

“Tony’s not going to experiment on Peter,” Romanoff pointed out. “He’s still a baby, practically.”

“A baby spider,” Sam said, shaking his head.

They’d all been out supervising Peter’s initial foray onto the playset, and they’d all been there when he’d inevitably missed a monkey bar and had dangled by one arm, precariously. Or so they’d thought. Even as Steve had lunged to catch him, Peter had simply reached up and caught the bar, again, easily. And then he’d brought his foot up and had released the grip on his hands – causing Rogers and the others another mini heart-attack.

The boy had laughed, his face turning bright red from being upside down, and Steve had reached up and pulled him off, only to have Peter scramble back to the ladder to climb to the slide, again, completely unaware of the sensation he’d caused in his eagerness to play.

When he’d begun to wear down a bit, the adults did their own experiments with him, not even letting on what they were doing when they tested the stickiness that he possessed against every surface of the playset. Wood, plastic, and metal, they were all the same to Peter. He simply stuck to wherever they put him until one of them helped him move to get free.

Then he’d run off to play, again.

“I wonder if it’ll increase as he gets older, or if he’ll lose the ability as time goes by,” Natasha said.

“It’s an interesting ability,” Steve said. “But if he can’t free himself, then it’s not one that will do him much good when he’s older.”

“It might just take some practice,” Sam told them. “He’s a little guy. He doesn’t even know what he can do – much less how to do it.”

“Plenty of-“

the conversation was cut short by a sudden streak of flames across the late afternoon sky, and Peter stopped what he was doing to look up – as did the others.

“Ah, Tony’s here…”

Sure enough, after giving them a chance to notice him – or maybe allowing the AI in his suit to mark where everyone was so he didn’t land on someone – Tony’s Ironman suit came to a landing in the snow covered grass near the playset, but far enough back to avoid scorching anything.

Or anyone.

“Tony!”

Peter thrilled at the superhero pose that the landing had left Tony in, but he jumped from the third rung of the ladder and ran over, stopping in front of the suit just as Tony straightened and retracted the metal to allow him to step out of it.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Wow!”

Stark couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the reaction.

“Liked that, did you?”

“It was great.”

He stepped forward, hopefully, and Tony picked him up, making Peter shiver with happiness.

“I missed you,” Tony told him, pressing his cheek against the boy's.

Peter beamed, feeling a different kind of thrill go through him at the words. It was heady stuff to be that important to someone else, after all.

“I missed you, too. Didja see the playset Steve built for me?”

“I did. It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

The other adults walked over, having allowed Stark his chance to have a somewhat private greeting.

 “Nice entrance,” Clint complimented.

“One does one’s best.”

“Are you done for the day?” Peter asked.

“I am. Are you guys done out here?”

Now that he was out of the Ironman suit, he was only wearing expensive suit that he’d worn at the tower that day. He didn’t need to pack anything, since he had clothes in his quarters at the compound, but it was getting chilly, and he didn’t want to hang out outside of he could avoid it.

“We were thinking that it’s getting close to dinner time,” Natasha said. She looked at Peter. “What do you think?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

Chapter Text

The first indication that something might be off with Peter came after dinner. Lamenting that they didn’t get a real vacation, the others had to go and take care of things that had been on hold while they’d been spending time with Peter. Now that Tony was there, they could work on things they needed to do and not feel like they were abandoning the boy.

With a promise to see him in the morning, the others left them at the table, and Tony and Peter decided to watch a movie. Since it was only the two of them, however, they didn’t use the theater room. Instead, Tony had Peter get ready for bed, and then he went and changed into sweats and a t-shirt before joining the boy in his room.

He settled himself on Peter’s bed, and a moment later the boy nestled up beside him, comfortably.

“Ready?” Tony asked, reaching for the remote.

They didn’t have JARVIS in the room, yet, after all, so they had to push all the buttons themselves.

Peter sniffed, and then coughed, but nodded as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his pajamas.

“Yeah.”

“You okay, buddy?” Tony asked, looking for a tissue, or something better for Peter to use, but not finding anything.

“Yeah. I’m great.”

The boy rested his head against Tony’s side, and Stark hit play on the movie they were streaming, then set the remote aside and turned off the light.

Peter sniffed, again, and then fell silent as the movie started.

><><><><> 

Tony wasn't too surprised that the boy fell asleep during the movie. He’d expected it, really – one of the reasons that they’d watched it in Peter’s bed, after all. He surprised himself by dozing off, as well, however, and the credits were done rolling, and the screen was blue when he woke with a start.

The boy beside him was coughing, softly.

It wasn't normal. Tony had been around Peter a fair amount, now, and was familiar with the little noises that the child made when sleeping. A cough wasn't even close to being right. Feeling unsettled, he turned the light back on and looked at the boy.

Peter was asleep, despite the cough that had woken Tony, and he had his face tucked against the man’s side. Tony frowned, reaching a hand out and brushing his palm against the flushed little cheek, wondering if he felt warmer than normal, or if it was just because he’d been pressed up against him, sharing his body heat.

One way to find out. He reached over and put on the glasses that he’d set on the stand next to Peter’s beside when he’d joined him. He was never far away from those glasses, after all.

“JARVIS?” he asked, softly. “Check Peter for me. Is he fevered?”

“Temperature is elevated,” the AI confirmed. “However, it is well within normal range for children his age.”

“What does that mean?” Tony asked, noting the display in his glasses was reading Peter’s temperature at just above 100 degrees. “Is he sick, or not?”

He was over a hundred. That had to be bad. Right?

“Children range higher than adults, generally. Peter’s temperature is not high enough to be of a concern, on its own.”

“Do I call a doctor?”

Peter coughed, again, and Tony’s hand brushing against his cheek made him open his eyes to look up at him, sleepily.

“Tony?”

“Shhh… yeah. I’m here.”

“Is it time to get up?”

“No, buddy. Not yet. How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.”

“What else?”

“Just sleepy,” Peter told him, closing his eyes, again, and rolling onto his side. “Is the movie over?”

“Yeah. Do you feel sick?”

“What?”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.” Even sleepy, though, he must have caught something in the billionaire’s voice, or his tone. He opened his eyes, again, and looked over his shoulder at him. “Am I?” he asked.

Realizing that he might be overreacting and that he also might be frightening Peter by doing it, Tony nodded, and smiled, bringing his hand down to brush Peter’s hair back from his forehead – which just happened to allow him the chance to check his temp the old fashioned way.

“Yeah, Peter. You’re fine. I’m going to let you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The boy closed his eyes and drifted off, but Tony didn’t leave, just yet.

><<><><><> 

There were two full time surgeons on the staff at the compound. Both were specialized in trauma and both had over 30 years, each, of experience. Mostly military for one of them, and the other had been chief of a major urban hospital’s emergency room until the lure of working exclusively with SHIELD and the avengers brought him to the compound. They were competent, no nonsense, and very much aware that they could deal with anything that came their way.

And both scowled, mightily, when they were pulled from their beds by Tony Stark.

He met them in the corridor outside of Peter’s door, and told them what was going on. Neither man looked worried about what they were being told, and one cracked opened the door enough to look into the room at the little boy sleeping in the bed.

“What’s his temp?”

“One hundred.”

“That’s not a fever, Stark,” he was told. Proving that even if these men were used to working with adults, they both were well-rounded in their profession. “Little kids can go as high as a hundred and one – even more if they’re more active. Sleeping kids can be warm, too.”

“He coughed,” Tony added.

“And…?”

It was Stark’s turn to scowl.

“And he sniffed, once or twice.”

“Right. What else?”

“That’s it.”

“Then it isn’t something to be too concerned about. It’s probably just a cold.”

“Probably just a cold?” Tony echoed. “What do we do about it?”

“Keep him warm, let him sleep and make sure he gets a lot of fluids when he’s awake.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Stark turned to the other doctor, clearly asking for a second opinion.

“He’s right. Kids catch colds. As long as his temp doesn’t go above one hundred-two, and he isn’t aching, hacking, and throwing up, the best thing for him is rest.”

“Maybe you should go check him out.”

“If I go in there and wake him up, it’s only going to freak him out, since he has no idea who I am. Then he won’t get back to sleep.”

“It’d freak me out,” the other doctor agreed. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll swing by and check on him in the morning. Around breakfast.”

“Fine. Thank you.”

He clearly wasn't impressed, but the two weren’t going to let a nervous parent tell them how to do their jobs. Even as the two doctors walked away, shaking their heads, Tony saw Nick headed toward him, wearing sweats, a long-sleeved t-shirt and shoes with no socks. He’d clearly been either in bed, or ready for bed.

Fury nodded at the two doctors as he passed them, but his attention was on Stark.

“What’s up?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Someone pulls two trauma surgeons out of their beds, I’m going to get a call,” Nick explained. “What’s happening?”

“Peter has a fever.”

“Is it serious?”

“They don’t seem to think so,” Tony grumbled, gesturing at the retreating backs of the two surgeons. “They said it’s not high enough to be worried, and that he’s probably caught a cold.”

“They’re doctors.”

“They adult doctors,” Tony corrected. “Maybe I need a little kid doctor. A pediatrician.”

Chapter Text

“I’m pretty sure a pediatrician would say the same thing.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced. “I could call one in…”

Fury frowned.

“What did our doctors say to do?”

“I’m supposed to make sure he gets rest, and fluids. One offered to check on him in the morning.”

“Well, then, why don’t we wait and see how things look in the morning?”

Tony wasn't really the wait and see kind of guy and he scowled at the thought of letting his little guy wallow in agony if it could be avoided.

“He could be worse by then.”

“Stay close, then, and monitor him,” Nick suggested. ‘If he looks like he’s getting worse, we’ll call in a specialist. Fair?”

“I could probably find one willing to come-“

“Tony.” It was almost amusing to see the man so worried, because it meant that he actually cared about something (or someone) enough to be concerned about them, but Fury didn’t want his compound invaded by civilian doctors. Not if it could be avoided. Civilians were a pain in the ass, as far as the SHIELD director was concerned. “Just wait and see. Trust me. If he’s worse in the morning, and our doctors think he needs a specialist, then we’ll call one in. I’ll even send the Quinjet for them.”

Stark hesitated, but finally nodded. Mainly because he didn’t want to be away from Peter long enough to continue the argument.

“Fine. We’ll see how he feels tomorrow.”

“Good. Need anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

Fury left Tony at the door to Peter’s room, but when he went to join Peter on his bed, again, Tony changed his mind and carefully gathered the sleeping form into his arms, picking him up, easily, and shushing him, softly, when he stirred.

“Tony?”

A soft sniff, and Stark rolled his eyes when he felt the boy wipe his nose on Tony’s neck.

“Go back to sleep, buddy,” he whispered. “I’m going to take you to my room, okay?”

“Why?”

The head never lifted from his shoulder, and the question was sleepy.

“Because JARVIS is in my quarters, and he isn’t in yours.”

“Oh.”

The explanation wasn't very complete, but Peter fell asleep between his door and the one that opened to Tony’s room, so it clearly didn’t matter to the boy.

“JARVIS?” Tony said, softly, as he held Peter with one hand and pulled his blankets back. “Keep an eye on Peter’s temperature, tonight. If it goes above 102 degrees, alert me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony settled Peter beside him, covering him, warmly, and then making sure his own body heat would keep him warm, too, despite the worry of a fever. Peter mumbled something in his sleep, draped an arm over Tony’s side and was still, once more.

The billionaire, on the other hand, didn’t sleep. He turned off the lights, to keep from bothering Peter, but with the hand that wasn't pressed against Peter’s back, he reached for his tablet. He’d keep most of his focus on the sleeping child, of course, but he could easily multitask, and he was still working out some bugs in the newest suit.

Instead, though, he found himself looking up pediatricians in the area, and mentally beginning to rank them in order of who he would call first the moment he thought the need came up.

><><><><> 

It was Peter who woke Tony the next morning, early.

He shifted in the bed as he woke, mumbled something, and then sat up, looking around.

Stark sat up, too, instantly alert.

“Hey, buddy. How do you feel?”

“Not too good,” Peter admitted, his voice hoarse, and looking at Tony woefully. “Where am I?”

“In my room.”

“Oh.”

“Lay back down, okay?” Tony suggested. “You’re fine, you just have a cold.”

“I feel hot.”

“I know. Does anything hurt?”

“My throat. A little.”

“I’ll see what we can do for that. Try to get some more sleep, okay? That’s what they said you need; sleep.”

Peter lay back against the pillow, but his eyes were wide open when he looked up at Tony.

“I’m not sleepy.”

“The doctors say you’re supposed to sleep,” Tony told him. “You try to stay still, and I’ll go find one and have them come check on you.”

“Okay.”

Tony pressed a kiss against that too warm forehead and got out of his bed.

“But don’t pee my bed,” he added with a smile. “You’re allowed to get up if you need to.”

Peter echoed his smile, sleepily.

“Okay.”

Stark had barely left his quarters when he was suddenly accosted by Romanoff in the corridor. He clutched his chest – only slightly dramatically, since she really had startled him with her sudden appearance.

“Put a bell on, will you?” he complained.

She smirked, but her eyes were worried.

“Nick said Peter’s not feeling well?”

“Yeah. He’s hot, and his throat hurts. I’m going to go get one of the doctors to have him come check him out, now that it’s morning.”

“Can I go keep him company?”

“Of course.”

Like he was going to say no? She probably wouldn’t listen, anyway.

><><><><> 

When he returned with a disgruntled looking surgeon walking behind him ten minutes later, Natasha was in his bed with Peter, crooning softly under her breath to the boy, who was cuddled in her lap, eyes closed and head tucked under her chin. She ran her fingers through Peter’s curls.

“Hey, honey, the doctor’s here to look you over.”

Peter sighed, but shifted, and Romanoff rolled out of Tony’s bed to make room. As she did, a couple of others walked into the room.

“Peter’s sick?” Steve asked, looking at the boy in the bed.

“Yes,” Tony said. “He’s fevered, has a sore throat, and he’s been sniffling all night.”

“Poor little guy,” Clint said, moving so he could watch as the surgeon Tony had dragged out of bed began examining the child. He smiled. “He looks sick, doesn’t he?”

His face was flushed and his eyes were tired and a little red. As was his nose.

“He’s not too bad,” the doctor said, running his fingers, gently, along Peter’s jaw. “It’s just a cold.”

“From being outside, yesterday?” Tony asked.

Clint snorted before the doctor could reply.

“You don’t get a cold in a day, Tony. Not even a superkid like Peter, here. He’s in daycare, right? Probably picked something up there from one of the other kids, or maybe from school. It just takes a while to show up.”

The doctor nodded his agreement.

“He’s right.” Of course he was; he had his own kids and was already learning to deal with endless illnesses. “Nothing could have prevented it, really. Little kids get sick. Little boys, especially, because they’re gross creatures at the best of times.”

Before the others could complain about anyone saying their precious little guy was gross, Clint nodded.

“I had to pull Cooper away from the cat’s litter box, one time. I thought my wife was going to throw up.”

“Eww.” Natasha had clearly not heard that story. “I’ve kissed him.”

“Cat poop lips,” Clint said, smirking.

Tony was watching the doctor and Peter.

“So? What do we do?” the billionaire asked. “Do I need to call in a specialist?”

“It’s a cold,” the doctor said. Again. “He doesn’t need a specialist. He doesn’t even really need a doctor. Just some rest, and fluids to keep him from getting dehydrated. We can get him something to knock back the fever and take care of the cough – which will help him sleep. He’ll feel better in a week, or so.”

Stark wanted to argue, but Clint was nodding his agreement with the doctor, and Tony trusted that the archer knew what he was talking about. He was just too competent with Peter to not be right.

“Do you have any of those things?” he asked, instead.

“No. We’re not set up for children, here. I’ll send someone to pick up-“

“Just make a list of what we’ll need,” Stark interrupted. “I’ll go get it.”

“Fine.”

Tony looked down at Peter, who had been listening to the conversation going on around him, but not really paying attention.

“Hey, buddy. I’m going to go get you something to help you feel better. Okay?”

Peter didn’t argue. He just nodded and closed his eyes.

“Want me to come with you?” Natasha asked.

“I’m going to take the suit. I’d appreciate it if you guys keep an eye on Peter.”

“We can do that,” Clint said, forcing himself to not react to the idea of the Ironman suit coming to a superhero landing in front of the nearest drug store, Tony Stark exiting it, and walking up to the counter to ask for some Children’s Tylenol. He’d have liked to see the clerk’s reaction to that. “You might get some vape-o-rub, too.”

The doctor nodded his agreement, handing Tony a piece of paper.

“It’s on the list.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Tony brushed his fingers against Peter’s cheek and then he left.

“He’s really okay?” Natasha asked the doctor.

“He’s fine. Stark’s overreacting.”

Barton shrugged.

“He’s new at the dad thing,” he pointed out. “He’ll relax, more, when he’s had a chance to settle into the role.”

“I’ll be around,” the doctor told them, clearly ready to go back to bed.

“We’ll call if we need you,” Steve said, frowning down at Peter, who had fallen asleep.

“You aren’t going to need me,” he was assured.

He left and Natasha sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll stay with him until Tony gets back.”

“If he wakes up and wants anything call me,” Steve told her.

Clint shook his head, amused.

It was a good thing Peter was pretty level-headed, because the Avengers weren’t any better than Tony.

“I’m going back to bed.”

Little kids weren’t nearly as much fun when they were sick, after all. Clint knew that, already. The rest of them would soon find that out.

Chapter Text

"He’s sick?”

Tony nodded, looking down at the little boy that he was holding. Peter was dozing in his lap, cheek pressed against Tony’s chest, giving an occasional sniff since his nose was running almost constantly. The front of his shirt was soaked with snot that was only getting smeared every time Peter shifted in his sleep, or in between naps.

The billionaire had returned to the compound with everything on the doctor’s list – as well as many things that he’d simply seen and thought might make the boy feel better. Then he had carefully read the directions and conferred with Natasha, Steve (and a grumbling surgeon, who had been pulled from his bed, once more) and had dosed Peter with some cold medicine. Telling him to go back to sleep didn’t work, though. Now that he was more awake and aware of just how miserable he felt, Peter had been clingy, and hadn’t been interested in any of the things that Tony showed him.

He wanted to be held. That was all. Nothing more.

So Tony held him.

Then, when he’d fallen asleep – which was inevitable, really, thanks to the cold medicine – Tony had left him to get some rest, only to have Peter come looking for him less than twenty minutes later. The boy hadn’t done more than leave his room before JARVIS alerted Tony what was going on. Since Tony hadn’t gone further than his bathroom to change and get a shower, intercepting the sleepy child wasn't a problem.

Tony had scooped him up, once more, but had simply carried him to the lounge so Peter wouldn’t need to ask where everyone was. Stark settled on a couch, settled Peter in his lap, covered him with a blanket and then, once he was quiet, had made a call to Pepper to let her know that he wasn't going to be coming in, that day.

Maybe for the rest of the week.

“He is,” Tony said.

“Did you call a doctor?” Pepper asked.

“They have a couple of surgeons that are permanently attached to the compound. I spoke with both of them, last night, and one checked Peter this morning. They say he’s caught a cold.”

“What kind of surgeons?” she asked. “Do they specialize in children’s illnesses?”

“They’re trauma surgeons.”

“Do you need a pediatrician?”

“They tell me I don’t.”

Some of the many things that he’d done the day before was to take care of all the little things required now that Peter was, officially, his. He was already the emergency contact for his school, but now the boy was put on his insurance, and there had been all kinds of forms to fill out.

Another thing needed was to find Peter a full-time, official, doctor, and dentist. They hadn’t found one, yet, though, because Tony was going to be picky about who he trusted to Peter’s care, and wasn't just going to pull a name out of a hat. He’d anticipated having a little more time to choose.

“Anything I can do?”

“Nah.” Tony smiled down at the child he was holding. “We might invest in a Kleenex distributer, though. I have a feeling we’re going to go through a lot of them, right now.”

She smiled, and as if on cue, Peter sniffed.

“Give him a kiss for me.”

“And get his germs?” Tony asked, pretending to be taken aback by the mere suggestion. “Are you trying to get me sick, too?”

He leaned over, though, and brushed a kiss against the top of Peter’s head, feeling the warmth of the slight fever even through his curls.

Peter looked up, sleepily, at the touch, and Tony winked at him.

“Pepper says hi.”

The boy smiled at that, but closed his eyes, again.

“Hi, Pepper.”

Since it was a video call, she was able to see Peter, and even though the image wasn't completely vivid, she could see that he looked as miserable as he sounded.

Poor baby.

“Get some sleep, Peter,” she told him. “You’ll feel better.”

“’kay…”

He dozed off, again, and Tony sat on the sofa talking to Pepper a few minutes more before she ended the call. Clint wandered over, crouching down to get a better look at Peter.

“Do you need a break?” he asked Tony. “I can hold him for a while.”

“Nah. Thanks. I’m good for now.”

Clint left to take care of his own responsibilities, and Tony leaned back a little more, getting comfortable without moving Peter any more than necessary. Then he closed his eyes and dozed off, too.

><><><><><> 

Tony frowned, pressing the corner of the sandwich against Peter’s lips.

“You need to eat something.”

The boy turned his head, burying it in Stark’s shirt.

“I’m not hungry.”

Steve snorted, amused at seeing such a little guy thwart Tony Stark.

They were still on the couch, but it was well past lunch time, and Steve had brought Peter and Tony both something to eat. Tony had been appreciative, but Peter wasn't impressed, just then.

“It’s chicken. You like chicken.”

“No.”

The denial was muffled, but it was definitely a no.

“Peter… c’mon, now. You already skipped breakfast. Eat your sandwich and you can go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked, walking over, holding a glass of iced tea.

“Peter won’t eat his lunch.”

“It isn’t something gross, is it?”

“It’s chicken and cheese. He likes it.”

“No, I don’t…” Peter muttered, wiping his face on Tony’s shirt, which already held evidence of several such occurrences. “I hate it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Natasha smiled.

“Give him to me, Tony,” she said, handing Steve her glass and then holding her hands out for the boy.

“Good luck,” Stark said, setting the sandwich back on the plate, and then handing Peter over to her, blanket and all. “He’s grumpy.”

Romanoff nodded, cuddling Peter close as she sat down on the sofa between the two men.

“Are you grumpy?” she asked the boy, putting a finger under his chin to make him look up at her.

“Yes.”

He pulled his head free and leaned into her, closing his eyes and holding her, loosely.

“Because you don’t feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Poor baby.” She shifted him in her embrace so she was still holding him, but now he didn’t have his face pressed so tightly against her. “You’re supposed to eat your lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Still need to eat, sweetheart. Otherwise I’ll be worried about you. You don’t want me to worry about you, do you?”

“No.”

“Just the sandwich…” she coaxed. “You don’t have to eat the chips or the carrots.”

Peter didn’t look convinced, but Natasha took the half of the sandwich that Tony had been trying to make the boy eat, and took a small bite of it, herself.  She made an approving noise as she chewed it, and Tony rolled his eyes, well aware Peter was too smart to fall for something so obvious.

Steve snorted, amused, but they were both silent when Peter opened his mouth and allowed Natasha to feed him a bite of the sandwich.

“Seriously?”

“Hush, Tony,” Romanoff chided. “We’re having lunch.”

She took another bite of the sandwich before offering it to Peter. His next bite was bigger, and a little less grudging, and Tony and Steve watched as the two of them ate the entire sandwich, all of the carrots and a few chips before Peter turned his head at the offer of anything else. He sighed, mightily, coughed a couple times and then tucked his cheek back against Natasha’s breast and closed his eyes.

“Need me to take him back?” Tony asked, even as she arranged the blanket to tuck around Peter.

“No. You’ve had him all morning,” she replied. “Go find something to do and stop monopolizing the cuddles.”

She smiled, though; her expression plainly telling him that she was willing to give him a chance to get up and stretch his legs, as needed. He decided there was no sense in arguing with her. Possession being 9/10 ths of the law, and all.

“If you need me – or if he does – call.”

“We’ll be fine.”

He and Steve got up and left the two of them alone. Natasha smiled, again, amused and amazed to find herself in the position she was in. Then she leaned back to get more comfortable, and closed her eyes, too.

Chapter Text

The week after Christmas leading up to New Years was a much busier one for Tony than he could have possibly anticipated. It was a lot busier for the Avengers at the compound, too.

Peter was sick. And they all watched as their sweet little ray of sunshine that was Peter Parker (soon to be Peter Stark) turned into a morose, miserable, snot producing machine right before their eyes. He had trouble sleeping because he didn’t feel good, and he didn’t want to eat, because he didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to blow his nose, because his nose didn’t feel good, either.

All he really wanted to do was sit in someone’s lap and be held.

They took it in stride, all things considered. Clint was the only one that had any experience with a sick child, but they were all intelligent adults, and there were enough of them that when one needed a break to go wash their neck of the drool or mucus that would run from Peter’s nose (and mouth, on the rare occasions that he slept) there was another to step up and offer the boy a lap to sit in and arms to hold him.

Tony was the preferred comforter, but at any time of the day, Peter could be found sitting in pretty much anyone’s lap, covered warmly with a blanket, his cheek pressed against their shirt, listening to their heartbeat – or listening to them tell stories or read to him. Even Nick had taken a turn or two, pointing out to all of them that there was absolutely nothing wrong with his lap and he had a million stories to tell.

Some were even tame enough to tell an eight year old.

Tony had finished Charlotte’s Web, and they’d started on Black Beauty. The billionaire would sit on the couch with the little boy, one arm around Peter and the other holding the book, reading in his steady, soothing voice, and every now and then stopping to press a tender kiss against Peter’s temple, or cheek. The boy would smile, reacting to the touch in any number of ways – usually wiping his nose on Tony’s shirt for good measure – and then would close his eyes and listen, again.

When it came to convincing him to eat, though, it was Natasha who was the best at that. Sam tried a spoon and choo choo noises, but Peter had shaken his head. Tony tried a simpler method; he bribed Peter. It didn’t work, but even Steve would roll his eyes when he’d hear Tony offer Peter a hundred dollars for every bite of oatmeal that he swallowed.

It didn’t work, but it was amusing to watch.

Despite the reassurance of the two compound surgeons, Pepper arrived on Thursday with a pediatrician in tow. Not that they didn’t believe the other doctors, but they were a long time from the pediatric rotation that they’d undoubtedly done after medical school, and Peter wasn't sleeping. Wasn't eating. And didn’t feel good.

“It’s a cold,” the specialist had pronounced after a very short examination of the boy. “There’s no shot to give, and no pill to take to cure it. He needs rest, quiet, and fluids.”

The two surgeons had rolled their eyes, looking smug, of course, and Tony had immediately asked about the fact that Peter wouldn’t eat and didn’t sleep, much, despite being lethargic.

“Just hold him when he needs it,” had been the suggestion. “He’ll start feeling better in a few days, I imagine.”

So they held him. And they cuddled him. And they talked to him when he was awake and restless. They kept him warm. Kept holding straws to his lips to get him to drink water, juices, and anything else that they could get him to swallow, and soothed him to help him sleep, as well as he could.

Nick decided that it was a good thing some evil super villain didn’t choose that week to invade the earth, because the Avengers were just too tired to deal with it, just then.

<><><>< 

By New Years Eve, the fever had broken and he wasn't quite as miserable.

Plenty tired; he was wiped out from being sick, but his appetite was starting to return, as was his cheerful disposition. He still wanted (needed) the comfort of a lap more often than not, but Nick had brought in a little table, similar to the one in his bedroom in Tony’s apartment, and installed it in the corner of the lounge. There were Legos, coloring books and color crayons – although not a Sharpie in the bunch – and Peter spent a lot of time there, as well, playing, or drawing under the watchful eye of whoever was with him at the time.

“Not where I’d ever have expected to be on New Years Eve,” Pepper said a few minutes before the ball dropped in the city.

She wasn't there to see it. Instead, she had been invited by Tony and the others to the compound. They weren’t really having a party, exactly, but it was a new year, and it should be celebrated. They were gathered in the lounge, where a large display had been showing the celebrations from around the world as they happened, and Peter was dozing in Nick’s lap.

The SHIELD director was wearing a party hat made of brightly colored plastic with a string holding it in place on his head. The others were all wearing one, as well – but only because Peter had pointed out that he saw a movie one time where they wore party hats and popped string poppers and blew on noisemakers when the clock struck midnight.  The boy had one, too, but his was a bit askew at the moment, since his cheek was resting against Nick’s chest.

Tony smiled, checking on Peter, automatically, before nodding.

“Not exactly our typical party, is it?”

“No.”

“Not enough glamour for you, Tony?” Steve asked, also smiling.

And looking far too good-looking considering he was wearing a goofy-looking hat.

“Not even close to the norm.” He looked over at Natasha, who was dressed in the sexy dress that Peter had bought her for Christmas. The one Tony had picked, knowing she’d look amazing in it. Not surprisingly, he’d been right. “Romanoff being the exception, of course.”

The assassin smirked.

“Pepper looks pretty good, too,” she pointed out.

“I’m not allowed to point that out, though,” Tony said. He shrugged. “Something about HR and harassment, that kind of thing.”

Pepper smiled.

“Exceptions can be made.” She looked at Peter. “Are you going to wake him up to watch?”

“Yup.” Tony handed Rhodey his drink and walked over to the sofa. “Hand him here, Nick.”

Fury pulled the blanket from Peter, and handed the little boy over. Peter was wearing pajamas and ready for bed, but he’d begged Tony to make sure that he was awake when it was the new year, and Tony wasn't going to disappoint.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony murmured, waking him, gently, with a hand pressed against the cheek. “Wake up and watch the new year come.”

Peter opened his eyes, sleepily, but he woke a little at the words, and they widened as he looked around.

“It’s time?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

They all gathered around the display, watching as the giant ball that dominated the screen began glowing brightly, and Peter shivered with excitement as he watched all the people in the crowd yelling the countdown along with the announcers.

“Three… two… one…!”

“Happy New Year!”

Sam tousled Peter’s hair, cheerfully, and Tony kissed the boy’s cheek, then leaned over and kissed Pepper, too, for good measure, while the others pulled the strings on their poppers, ribbons and sparks flying and noise giving the room a chaotic element for a short moment.

“Happy New Year, son,” Tony whispered to Peter, his face right against the boy’s ear to make himself heard.

“Happy New Year… dad…?” He replied, the last word obviously uncertain, but so hopeful.

Tony felt his eyes sting, but his smile was so big it hurt his cheeks and he hugged the boy, fiercely.

“Did I hear what I think I heard?” Sam asked Steve.

Rogers smiled, and pulled the hat from his head, straightening his hair, automatically.

“I think you did. Yes.”

Chapter Text

“He didn’t last long, did he?”

Tony shook his head, looking at the sleeping boy.

“I’m not too surprised. He’s pretty worn out, still, from being sick.”

Pepper smiled.

“You guys all look tired, too.”

“Because taking care of a sick little kid is exhausting.”

“Part of the learning experience, though, I imagine.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. Looking around the lounge, but everyone had cleared out, now that the ball had dropped, and the new year had been properly acknowledged. He and Pepper were alone with Peter, who was in Tony’s embrace, sound asleep. “It ruined the trip to Disney, though.”

“Why? You can still go.”

“He starts school, again, in a few days. And he’s still not completely over being sick, so we can’t go, now.”

“He’s pretty smart, though,” she pointed out. “Maybe take him out of classes for a few days and go. You two should spend some time together that doesn’t involve getting sneezed on.”

Tony hesitated, but he didn’t say no, immediately. It wasn't a terrible idea, after all. Peter could miss a few days – or even a week – of school. There was going to be a fair amount of initial disruption, anyway, really, once it became common knowledge that Tony had adopted him over the Christmas vacation. And since his name was going to be changed to Stark, there wasn't any way to conceal that fact.

“I’ll talk to him about it in the morning.”

She smiled.

“You do that. You could use a vacation, too.”

“Funny you say that,” he said. “I was thinking that you could, as well.”

“If you’re gone, that’s a vacation in itself,” Pepper told him, smiling to soften what might have been considered harsh – despite being true.

Although with the addition of Peter in Tony’s life, things had definitely become a lot easier for the PR (and HR) people. Which made things much easier for Pepper. The guy was practically human, now – and as far as she knew, there hadn’t even been a single party, or any overnight female visitors.

“You could come with us.”

“To Disneyland?”

“Have you ever been?”

“When I was a girl.”

“It’s probably changed a bit, since then. What do you think?”

“I think you should have some vacation with just your son.”

The phrasing made Tony smile down at the sleeping boy, again, before he shrugged.

“I think he’d love for you to come. Besides, I could use some help keeping an eye on him.”

“The others aren’t going to be invited?”

“Could you imagine the craziness that would ensue if the Avengers were to show up at Disney? The place would be a madhouse, and we wouldn’t be able to do anything without people swarming us.”

“And the presence of Ironman isn’t going to cause a scene?”

“If I do it right, no one will even know I am there.”

“Yeah?”

“People won’t notice me. I’ll be in jeans, and holding hands with a little kid. We’ll look like everyone else there.”

“Until you tell them your name when you check in at the hotel.”

“As Tony Parker, you mean?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? He’s taking my name, it’s only fair I use his.” He smirked. “Want to be Mrs. Parker for a week?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I have a business to run. Your business.”

“You have vice presidents and assistants, right?”

“Yes.”

“There you go. Let them run it for a week.”

“I-“

“I’ll have Peter ask you in the morning.”

She wasn't driving home as late as it was, and had already accepted an invitation to use one of the guest rooms. It was one of the reasons she wasn't in any hurry to leave, and was more than willing to socialize for a while rather than go to bed.

“That isn’t fair.”

The billionaire didn’t look at all repentant.

“Well?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. You can let me know in the morning.” He shifted his grip on the boy so he could stand up. “Now, you can help me put him to bed.”

It was a pain in the ass to try and pull back blankets and hold him, after all.

She smiled, and stood up, too.

“Can I carry him?”

“Sure.”

He handed Peter over, and the boy roused at the transfer, his little body tensing.

“It’s morning?” he asked, sleepily.

“No, honey,” Pepper said, softly. “Go back to sleep.”

He rested his cheek on her shoulder, his nose pressed against the side of her neck and sighed, lightly, and did what he was told.

Tony smiled.

“See? Easy peasy.”

She shook her head.

If it were that easy, he wouldn’t look so tired, now would he?

><><><><>< 

“You’ll never win, Darth Vader… the avengers will find you.”

“But when they do, I’ll use the force on them…”

“It won’t work on them.”

“It works on everyone. Even Ironman.”

“What are you doing up?”

Startled, Peter looked up at Tony. He was in the lounge, sitting at the little table that was so perfectly sized for him. In one hand he was holding the Lego Ironman, and in the other he had a Lego Darth Vader. They were clearly at odds with each other.

Tony was looking at him, expectantly.

“I was just playing…” Peter replied.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

They’d put him to bed only a few hours, before, and he’d been sleeping soundly enough that Tony had expected him to still be asleep the next morning when breakfast time rolled around. Instead, the billionaire had been woken by JARVIS advising him that Peter was not only awake, but that the boy was in the lounge.

Since there hadn’t been any urgency in the alert, Stark didn’t rush to the room to save Peter. He stopped long enough to put a shirt on, and some slippers, and then had gone looking for his boy.

“I woke up.”

“I see.” Tony reached down and brushed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead, feeling for a fever, and relieved when he didn’t find one. “How do you feel?”

“Okay. Not sleepy.”

“No?”

Peter shook his head.

“No.”

“Well, that’s understandable, I suppose. You’ve been sleeping a lot, lately. But I don’t want you up all night, because then you’ll be too tired to do anything with us, tomorrow. When you were sick, you would just fall asleep at any time, but you’re not going to want to be awake at night and sleepy in the day, now that you’re feeling better.”

“Oh.” He thought about it. “I’m still not sleepy, though.”

Tony smiled at that.

“Then come talk to me for a minute, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tony waited for Peter to set the Lego figures down, and then he picked the boy up and carried him over to the sofa, sitting down and bringing Peter to his lap. It was pretty much automatic, now, after days of cuddling him when he didn’t feel well.

“I was talking to Pepper…” he said, hooking the coffee table with his foot and pulling it closer so that he could put his feet against it, lifting his knees to allow Peter to lean back against his bent legs and look at him. “I told her that I was thinking about taking next week off from working.”

“Can you do that?” Peter asked. “You stayed away this week, too.”

He knew that Tony had been present almost every time he’d woken up and asked for him while he hadn’t been feeling good.

“It’s my company,” Tony reminded him. “Of course I can. But… I was thinking that maybe you would want to take next week off from school, too.”

“Why?”

“Because you got sick and we couldn’t go to Disney this week like we talked about, and I still want to go. We need some time to get the school ready for you to be Peter Stark, anyway, and to get some additional security into place. So it’d be a good time to do it – and nobody does anything really important right after the holiday, so you probably wouldn’t miss much.”

“Oh.”

“Are you interested?”

Peter nodded, smiling.

“It would be fun.”

“I think so, too.” He echoed Peter’s smile. “You know what else might be fun?”

“What?”

“If we invited Pepper to come, too.”

“Yeah?”

“The others are going to be busy doing Avengers stuff, and can’t go, but Pepper could get away. We just need to make sure she understands that she’s invited and that we really want her to come with us. What do you think?”

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe we’ll bring it up, then, tomorrow. Before she heads home.”

“Okay.”

Tony smiled, reaching out and tapping Peter, tenderly, on his nose – making the little boy smile.

“But… in order for you to do that, you need to be awake, tomorrow. Which means…?”

He waited, expectantly, and Peter shrugged.

“What?”

“That you need to go to sleep, tonight.”

Peter groaned, theatrically, and Tony shifted him in his lap with a soft chuckle. He put his arms around Peter, and recognizing the invitation, the youngster cuddled against Tony’s chest, sighing, when he felt those strong arms come around him and hold him.

“Maybe I could try…” he conceded, pressing his cheek on Tony’s collarbone.

“Yeah.”

He’d hold him, quietly, until the boy was lulled back to sleep. Then he’d put him to bed for a few more hours, at least.

Chapter Text

“You’re evil.”

Tony smirked, unrepentant.

“What did I do?” he asked, innocently.

“You sicced Peter on me.”

“Whaaaat?” he allowed his voice to go a little higher in shock. “I’d never do something like that. Not that sweet little guy of mine.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, looking over at the boy, who was still wearing pajamas – proof that they were going to stay at the compound one more day, just to make sure that Peter’s cold was well on its way to being gone before Tony would risk taking him outside.

Even just to transfer him from the building to his car for the drive home.

He’d fallen asleep as planned, and Stark had put him to bed – also as planned. Tony liked it when things went according to his plans. He had stayed a few minutes, watching Peter sleep and listening for the sound of any congestion that might be lurking, but the boy seemed to be resting peacefully. Rather than risk waking him by joining him to hold him, Stark went back to bed, and fell asleep easily.

In the morning, Peter had climbed into Pepper’s lap after breakfast was done, and had cuddled into her embrace while Tony and Natasha arm wrestled over the last cup of coffee that was in the pot. Peter had sighed in contentment that had made Pepper smile, and then had simply told her that Tony was going to take him to Disney, and did she want to come with them?

The woman forced herself not to look over at her boss, who had to be the one responsible, but he was pointedly not looking her way as he shook his arm and accused Romanoff of taking steroids, or something.

“Did Tony tell you to invite me?” she asked Peter.

He smiled up at her, brown eyes happy.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun,” he added, hopefully. “There are rides, and food – and even a hotel that is right by the rides.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that. Have you ever been?”

“No. I don’t remember it, if I have. It’s probably something I’d remember.”

“Probably.”

“You could come and take a vacation. Tony said that you need one.”

“He did, did he?”

Peter nodded.

“Yeah. Please?” he added. “I’ll win you a stuffed animal.”

She smiled, and then shrugged, unwilling to say no to him.

Or maybe unable?

“I suppose I could take a few days of vacation. I have a lot of it accrued.”

“Wow. This will be fun.”

And then he’d simply held her, making Pepper feel like mush inside at being used as a cuddle buddy.

Eventually he had moved, too restless to stay still for long. He was playing Legos with Natasha and Clint, and she was still on the couch – only now Tony had come over to join her.

“Yes, that sweet little guy of yours. He told me that you suggested inviting me when you go to Disney.”

“He must be mistaken,” Tony said. “He’s eight, so it’s bound to happen”

“So you’re not going to Disney? And I’m not invited to join you?”

“Disney sounds like fun. And if Peter has his heart set on it, then we have to go, really. You, of course, are more than welcome to come, too.”

“When?”

“Whatever dates are best for you,” was the immediate reply. “Peter and I have open schedules, this week.”

><><><><> 

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, peeking into Peter’s bedroom, and finding the little boy sitting in the middle of his bed, with his backpack.

It was open and the manilla envelope was out, with the contents all scattered around him. There were a few more, now, than there had been the very first time that Tony had seen them. Including his Lego avengers, the bear Tony had won him at the carnival, and now a few pictures that he’d been given of the Tatros on Christmas.

“Packing.”

Peter’s smile was excited, and Tony walked into the bedroom.

“You don’t need to bring that, you know…” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully, to avoid sitting on anything. “It will still be here when we get home from Disney.”

Peter looked at him, uncertainly, and Tony felt that familiar ache that he always had when he was reminded of just how rough the boy had had things, in the past. It was one of the reasons that the billionaire was so determined to make his present and future amazing. (Another reason was probably that he didn’t know how to do anything on a small level)

“I know…” the boy said, and Tony saw his hand tighten, just a little, on his father’s wristwatch. “I just…”

“You can bring it, buddy,” Tony assured him. “I just wanted to remind you that you don’t have to worry about that, anymore. No one can take you away from me, now, and JARVIS wouldn’t let anyone get away with taking anything of yours. Would you, JARVIS?”

“Of course not,” came the immediate reply. “Not only would I immediately alert your father, Peter…” and Tony smiled at the way the AI was reminding the boy of his new status. “I would also alert the avengers.”

“See?” Tony said. “You think Natasha and Sam would let anyone get away with doing something like that?”

“No.”

“Not a chance. And then Nick would make sure they were sorry.”

If Romanoff didn’t take care of it, first. Of course, he didn’t say that aloud. Peter had no idea just how deadly Natasha was, and Tony had no intention of letting him in on that knowledge until he had to know.

Peter nodded.

“I can still take it with me?”

“Yes. Of course, you can.” He watched as all of the treasures went back into the envelope, and then the envelope went back into the backpack. “Other things that should go in your backpack are your phone, your tablet, a book – not a schoolbook – and whatever you think you might want to play with on the flight. Your clothes and that kind of stuff go into your suitcase. See? They won’t be needed until we get to the hotel, right?”

“Yeah.”

He was looking excited, again, and Tony took the backpack and put it on Peter’s desk. They were leaving in the morning. They would be swinging by to pick up Pepper at her upscale apartment building, and then would be going to the private airfield to take the SI jet to Disneyland. Peter had been talking about very little else since they’d returned to the city the day before and had stopped at a store on the way in to buy Peter a new set of luggage for the trip.

His suitcase was on his little table near the closet, already open and waiting – although Tony had suggested that the boy let him help decide what to bring.

That was he didn’t end up with eighteen shirts, one pair of pants, three socks and no underwear.

“Should we finish your packing, tonight? Or in the morning?”

“Natasha said to do it tonight so I don’t feel rushed and forget something in the morning.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“She’s pretty smart, huh?”

“Yes, she is.”

“And pretty.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “That, too.”

“So is Pepper.”

“Yes to both of those. Smart and pretty.”

“Yeah.”

Tony smiled, brushing his fingers against his son’s cheek. (his son’s cheek! How the hell had that happened?)

“What are you thinking about?” he asked the boy.

Peter shook his head, eyes happy.

“Nothing. Just something that JARVIS and I were talking about last night.”

“Oh? What?”

“Legoland,” JARVIS said before Peter could respond. “I was telling him the various rides and activities that are exclusive to that park, as well.”

Peter grinned. He and Tony had actually downloaded and printed out a brochure for the Legoland park that was adjacent to Disney. It was definitely something the boy was interested in experiencing, after all, and they’d spent over an hour looking through it and debating what rides would be ones that he could go on – due to size restrictions – and what he’d even want to go on.

And that didn’t even include the Lego activities indoors.

The billionaire didn’t miss the fact that the brochure was also sitting on Peter’s bed.

“Why don’t I help you pack, now?” he suggested, reaching over and hoisting the boy off the bed and into his arms. “That way we’re ready to go when Happy comes to get us, tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He hugged Tony, because he couldn’t hug himself, just then, and pressed a kiss against his cheek like the man had done to him so many times. “And then I can help you pack, too.”

Tony smiled and kissed him back before setting him down.

“That’s a great idea.”

Chapter Text

“Last chance to change your mind and let me go home…”

Tony smirked, looking over at Pepper, who was settling herself into the plush leather chair of the jet.

“You aren’t a prisoner, Pep. You could leave any time.”

She rolled her eyes, giving him the look that he knew so well before she turned her attention to Peter, who was being shown the cockpit by the two pilots that would be flying them to California.

“Right. Like that was ever really an option. Not since you had him turn those big brown eyes on me.”

“My big brown eyes?” he teased, hoping to make her smile.

She complied.

“You’re entirely too good at getting what you want, Tony.”

“Well,” he said, thanking the steward who was escorting Peter back to sit in the chair beside him. “I want you to have fun. So let’s work on that, shall we?”

Peter smiled, buckling his seatbelt under the watchful eye of the steward, who then tugged on it to make sure it was tight.

“I want you to have fun, too, Pepper,” the boy agreed.

Pepper’s expression softened.

“I’m sure we’ll have a great time,” she told him, ignoring the amused triumph in Stark’s expression. He probably just wanted the extra babysitter. “What are you looking forward to seeing, most?”

“Everything.”

“I hope your dad brought comfortable shoes, then.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to roll his eyes. The implication being that he was going to be doing a lot of walking that week.

“I did.”

<>><><><> 

It was Peter’s first flight, so it probably wasn't much of a surprise that the boy spent most of the trip with his nose pressed against one of the windows along the fuselage of the sleek jet. Once the flight leveled off, and Tony and the steward gave him permission, he unbuckled himself and went to the low slung couch that ran along the length of the small area to look outside.

“Peter, honey, don’t stand like that,” Pepper had said, quickly, worried that if they hit turbulence the boy might lose his balance and fall backward – and probably hit his head or something.

Peter had dropped to his knees without comment, but hadn’t moved his face away from the view.

“The tops of the clouds look a lot like the bottoms,” he noted.

“Yes, they do,” Tony agreed, leaning back into the fine leather and relaxing. Peter’s excitement for the trip had left the boy wide awake the night before – even more than usual – and Tony was more than willing to catch up on that missed sleep during the flight. He was sleeping fairly regular – despite Peter’s odd sleeping patterns, and he was beginning to get used to it. “It shouldn’t be cloudy the entire way, so you’ll get to see what the tops of mountains look like, too.”

“Wow.”

Pepper smiled, and then accepted a glass of wine from the steward. He didn’t have to ask her what kind she preferred; she’d been on the jet many times, after all.

“Peter? Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.”

He didn’t even turn his head.

Tony smiled, and closed his eyes.

“He can eat, later.”

She shrugged, but since Tony wasn't going to insist the boy had something, neither was she. Instead, she pulled out a paperback book, settled into her seat and allowed herself to enjoy the flight. But even as she read, occasionally she would glance over at the little boy, and then smile at Tony, who was already asleep.

><><><>> 

The hotel they were staying at was at Disney, not in the Legoland property. Mainly because Tony only anticipated one day at Legoland, with the rest of the holiday being spent riding rides and enjoying the activities that were much more diverse. There were acres of property to look at, after all. Much more than Legoland had to offer.

When their jet landed (at another private airfield) there was a car waiting for them. This one was a sleek sedan, and Pepper and Tony put Peter between them in the back, allowing the driver to load everything into the trunk except Peter’s backpack, which stayed with the boy. He held it on his lap, holding it rather than hugging himself, but the two adults actually felt him tremble with excitement when the car crossed into the Disney properties and stopped in front of the fancy hotel.

Tony smiled at Pepper over Peter’s head, and took the boy’s backpack.

“Come on, buddy,” he said, opening the door before the driver could. “We’ll check into our suite, have some dinner and relax a while.”

“Can we go on rides?” Peter asked, scrambling out of the back of the car behind Tony.

“Not tonight,” he replied, offering the boy his free hand and squeezing it, lightly, when Peter took it. “We’ll get a lay of the land, and get ready, tonight, then we’ll do all that stuff tomorrow.”

There were rides at Legoland, so it was a promise that he knew he could keep.

Peter knew that, too.

“Okay.”

Pepper stepped up beside him, and took Peter’s other hand, and they walked into the hotel lobby, leaving their bags for the driver and the hotel staff to take care of. Peter smiled, swinging from their grips, playfully, not at all tired – even though he hadn’t slept during the flight like the two adults had. Indulging the boy, Tony swung his arm to allow Peter to swing out and then back, and when she realized what he was doing, Pepper echoed the motion on the other side, which made the little boy giggle, happily.

It wasn't exactly a ride, but it was still fun.

The three walked up to the check in desk, and Peter looked around the lobby, excited.

“Look!” he said, pointing, and getting Tony and Pepper’s attention. They both saw a woman dressed as Cinderella walk across the room, holding hands with two little girls, and being followed by another. “Wow.”

Tony smiled at his cheer, but had to turn back to the conversation that he was having with the desk clerk.

This was going to be so much fun.

<><><><><> 

“This is nice.”

Pepper looked around the room they were standing in, her hand still holding Peter’s, idly, as it had the entire ride up the elevator and to the door of the suite she’d reserved for them. Tony had offered to do all the leg work on the vacation – it was his idea, after all, and was supposed to be a break for her – but she said she didn’t mind.

Secretly, he assumed that she wanted to make sure everything was laid on right, the first time, and trusted herself to do that more efficiently than she trusted him.

It was a two bedroom suite. Pepper would have one room, and he and Peter would take the other. Tony had made a sly comment about maybe making different sleeping arrangements, and she’d countered with the rejoinder that Peter might be a blanket hog and she didn’t want to share her bed with him. The billionaire had rolled his eyes, amused, and had dropped the idea of them sharing one room and giving Peter his own.

He hadn’t really expected her to be on board with that notion.

“It is,” he agreed.

There was also a large living area, with a couch, a couple of chairs, a large flatscreen TV and a full bar, rather than just a minibar. There was a coffee table with a huge basket that held fruit, nuts, candies and every kind of snack that they might think of while they were there.

They took a few minutes to look around, with Peter making excited noises every time he found something new to gawk at in the room.

“Look!” he'd say, pointing at (or picking up) something that was designed to be purely decorative, but was still amazing to the boy. “Isn't it great?”

Pepper seated herself on the sofa so she could watch him without following him around, but Tony eventually held up a hand to stop him, and gestured for him to join him at the far corner.

“Come here, Peter,” he said, crouching down on the floor next to a big metal box.

Peter went over and joined him, and he saw his backpack next to it.

“What is it?” the boy asked, curiously.

“It’s a safe,” Tony replied. “We’re going to put your backpack in here, to make sure it’s safe when we go out and look around. There’s too much chance that you might lose it out in the park – and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Oh.” Peter eyed the box, speculatively. “No one can get into it?”

“Just the people who know the code. You, me, and Pepper. No one else.”

“Wow.”

Their own safe? How cool was that?

Tony smiled, and handed the boy his backpack.

“Take out what you think you’ll need while we’re here.”

It shouldn’t be much, he knew – and was proven right when the only thing Peter pulled from the bag was the teddy bear Tony had won for him – and his Lego Avengers. Then he handed the backpack to Tony, who opened the safe and tucked it, neatly inside.

“What is the code?” Peter asked.

“Whatever you want it to be,” was the reply. “But not a birthday,” he added, smiling.

“Right,” Pepper said, proving that she was listening. “Only an idiot uses his birthday for a code.”

“Tony did it,” Peter told her, which made Stark roll his eyes.

“She knows, buddy,” he said. “She was just being a smart ass.”

He smiled when he said it, though, so Peter would know that he wasn't being serious. When the boy looked over at Pepper, uncertainly, she was smiling, too.

“Pick a number, guys,” she told them. “I’m hungry.”

><><><> 

They did as they were told, and soon the safe was locked tightly, and Peter felt himself relax a little. He and Tony went into their shared room and Tony helped him unpack the clothes that they’d brought, putting them into the wardrobe that was supplied. One that was designed to look much older than it actually was.

Part of the Disney experience, Tony told him when Peter commented on it.

When they returned to the common room, Pepper was just coming out of her room, as well, and she smiled.

“Do we go out to eat?” she asked. “Or eat here?”

“We go out,” Tony decided, looking at Peter. He picked the boy up and put him on the back of the sofa, though. “But first… some ground rules.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, but Peter nodded.

“Okay.”

“You stay with me or Pepper at all times.”

“Okay.”

“And you make sure that we know who you’re going to be with. Makes sense?”

“Yes.”

This wasn't too different from when they went anywhere, really – there was just the addition of Pepper.

“If you get lost, you wait where you are for me to come find you.”

“Right.”

“And you don’t go with anyone. No matter who they are, or what they’re offering you. Right?”

“Yes.” Peter smiled, looking up at him. “I’ll be careful.”

Which made Tony pick him up and hug him.

“I know, buddy. So will I.” He looked at Pepper. “Unpacked? Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Text

If they thought that they were going to have a nice quiet dinner, just the three of them, Tony and Pepper were wildly mistaken.

The hotel restaurant had two different dining areas. One area was designed for people without children, who wanted the Disney experience, but didn’t want a handful of kids running around shouting, yelling and being kids. The other area – the area where Pepper and Tony were guided with Peter between them – wasn't exactly chaos, but it wasn't far from it.

There were children present – which wasn't a bad thing, of course – and even more exciting (to Peter, anyway) was the fact that there were various people dressed as Disney characters walking around the area, stopping to greet people at the tables, and take pictures with the children. And any adult that might be interested.

Six months ago – hell, even two months ago – Tony would have found the back corner of the quiet, adult, section and had vainly tried to ignore the happy shouts coming from all around him. Now, however, he watched with satisfaction as Peter’s eyes seemed to get wider and wider as he took in what was going on around them. Even as he sat in his chair, he jumped up, waving in excitement as Mickey Mouse himself walked over to say hello, with Minnie right behind him.

The billionaire exchanged a glance with Pepper, who’d been watching his own reaction rather than the boy’s, and she smirked.

“I think he’s going to have a fun time.”

“Yeah.”

That was the whole point, right?

<><><><>< 

Clint smirked when Steve and Natasha both received alerts from their phones, interrupting the conversation they’d been having.

“Another one?” he asked, watching as they looked at their displays – and then watching as Sam walked into the room, looking at his phone, too. “Who did he find, this time?”

“I got him with some cowboy guy…” came a deep voice from the other side of Romanoff.

She looked at Fury’s phone.

“That’s Woody. From Toy Story.”

The boy was hugging him, tightly, grinning at whoever was taking the photo – although it was uncertain if it were Pepper, or Tony. Tony was the one sending them updates, though, so they all assumed it was Stark.

“He looks like he’s having a good time.”

Steve smirked.

“Did you get the one of Tony and Peter having a tea party with the Mad Hatter?”

“I don’t think I’ve missed a single one,” Natasha said, honestly.

The last three days had been interesting for the Avengers. Mainly because while they were working on their usual responsibilities and duties, their days would be broken up by a flurry of pictures – undoubtedly sent by Tony but at Peter’s request – of practically a play by play of the activities that Tony and his new son were engaging in on their trip.

Peter and Tony in Legoland. Peter and Tony building with those Legos. Peter and Tony posing with Lego Batman – while Peter held up his Lego Batman character. That one had been especially hilarious to the others, since Tony’s expression was utterly priceless. Then the scenery had switched to Tomorrowland and Fantasyland and they’d all enjoyed Frontiertown photos.

It looked like they were having fun, and even Pepper Potts had been captured on digital imagery with the two of them, sipping imaginary (or real?) tea with the Queen of Hearts and her cohorts, and riding rides with the two.

“What kind of chatter have we heard since the announcement?” Fury asked, changing the tone of the conversation back to what they’d been discussing. “Any indication we have a problem?”

Romanoff looked at Steve, who shook his head.

“No. So far there’s a lot of shock, a little sarcasm and a fair amount of cynicism.”

Tony and Pepper had decided that eventually the world was going to find out about Peter. So, rather than make them wait, they had Stark’s PR people allow the announcement to be made. While they were away on vacation – and completely off the grid. Even in the swarm of people that were around them all day, it seemed.

The media had gone crazy the first two days, speculating and asking for photos and statements. None were forthcoming, and it was driving them all mad.

Fury and the Avengers weren’t worried about the media, however.

Their point of concern was someone – or a group of someones – deciding that the billionaire’s new son might make a good target. For kidnapping and ransom, or simply as a statement of just how much they hated the man and making an example of him. Thus far, things were silent, but SHIELD had a network like none seen before, and they were watching, carefully.

“We can expect all of that,” Nick conceded. “Any indication that anyone knows where they are?”

“Nope. Tony Parker and his son and wife…” Romanoff smirked at that ruse. “Are at Disney enjoying themselves. The media has been told that statements will come when they are good and ready to give them, and photos will be limited.”

“That won’t last, though,” Clint said. “Peter’s too cute to not be an immediate favorite of the press. If Tony doesn’t allow them some access to him, then the paparazzi will hound them, relentlessly. He’ll be better off having a weekly or bi-weekly round table with them so they can get accustomed to Peter – and him to them.”

“We’ll worry about that, later,” Nick said. “That’s his problem, really. My problem is keeping that boy safe.”

Romanoff smiled.

“Grandpa Nick… who would believe it?”

The single eye narrowed, slightly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Agent Romanoff.”

She wasn't cowed.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

Then she sneezed.

><><><><>< 

“Why are you still awake?”

“Because I’m not sleeping.”

Tony rolled his eyes at that logic, and sat down on the edge of the bed that he and Peter had been sharing for the past four days. He brushed his hand along the boy’s cheek, but Peter wasn't fevered. He looked happy – if not just a little tired.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

Peter shrugged.

“What’s a publicity stunt?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard it, today,” he said. “While we were in the gift shop.”

“Yeah?” He had a feeling that he knew what was coming, and was glad that Peter was asking. “What did you hear?”

“That you adopted a little kid, and that it’s nothing more than a publicity stunt.”

“Ah.” Stark picked Peter up, putting him onto his lap, but not cuddling. He just wanted to make sure he had his attention. “Yeah, you’re probably going to hear something like that, a lot, in the next few days, or months. What they are saying is that I decided to adopt you because it makes me look good.”

“Oh.”

“Which it does,” Tony admitted. “But that isn’t why I adopted you.”

“You adopted me because you love me.”

“Exactly. And because I feel good whenever you’re with me, and I want to feel good all the time.”

The boy smiled at that.

“Even when I was sick?”

Tony nodded.

“Maybe even more when you were sick. It made me feel needed.”

“Oh.” Peter hesitated. “I don’t like being sick.”

“And I don’t want you sick,” he assured the boy. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Good.” He sighed. “We should have had this conversation before you agreed to being adopted by me.”

“What conversation?” Peter asked, suddenly worried that Tony didn’t want to have him be his son, anymore.

It must have shown in his expression, but Tony smiled down at him, and tapped him on the nose, reassuringly, and playful all in one.

“Eventually – and it’ll probably be sometime in the near future – we’re going to have to let the press know a little more about you. Because they’re going to be assholes and drive us all crazy if we don’t. But that means that you’re probably going to be pretty famous – at least for a while. Might even be the most well-known boy in the world. Most talked about anyway.”

“Even more than Peter Pan?”

A character that they’d met just that afternoon.

Tony shrugged.

“Maybe. It’ll die down, eventually, and something else will come along to distract them, but until then, you might get some unwelcomed attention. We’ll do everything that we need to do to shield you from that, but the kids at school are going to talk, and they might pester you.”

“Agent Hill won’t let anyone too close to me,” Peter pointed out, sensibly. “One of the girls in my biology class came up to me to hug me for Christmas, and Maria wouldn’t let her.”

“That’s her job,” Tony told him. “You’re very huggable, of course, but that doesn’t mean that people can just walk up to you and do it. Unless you want them to, of course. If she is someone that you’re particularly fond of, tell Maria, next time, and she’ll allow it. But not the press – and no one who wants to do anything annoying.”

“How do I know the difference?”

“That another job of Agent Hill’s. She knows who belongs and who doesn’t. Maybe we’ll see if Nick can add another agent, for a while, until the furor dies down a little.”

Peter looked a little dubious.

“That’s a lot of work for one little kid.”

“One very special little kid,” Tony told him. “A kid who I didn’t adopt as a publicity stunt, and who I’m very happy to have in my life. You understand what I’m saying?”

Peter smiled.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep, okay? We have one more day, here, I don’t want you to be too sleepy to enjoy it.”

So far he’d been doing pretty well, really, despite falling asleep the first day while Tony had been carrying him back to the hotel after the Main Street fireworks display. He’d even been sleeping through the nights, for the most part. Of course, they were constantly moving during the days, exploring the park, so it was either that they were wearing him out by day so he slept at night, or it was because Tony was sleeping in his bed with him, providing a warm cocoon of protection from bad dreams.

Whatever it was, it was working. Which was a good thing, since JARVIS wasn't there to interface with – except for the laptop and tablets. And that wasn't the same, of course.

“You’re coming to bed?”

“In a little while. I’m going to keep Pepper company.”

“Okay.”

Tony tucked him back under the blankets, leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Good night, Peter Stark.”

The boy smiled.

“Good night, Tony Parker.”

Stark rolled his eyes, amused, tapped his nose and then left the room, turning the light out behind him and closing the door so the light from the living room didn’t keep him awake.

Chapter Text

“Is he asleep?”

“Not, yet,” Tony replied, coming over to the sofa and settling near Pepper, but not close enough to be touching her. He poured himself a drink, offered her one, and then took a sip. “He asked me what a publicity stunt was.”

She nodded, understanding, immediately.

“You’ll have to address the media, eventually.”

He scowled at that, even though it was the exact thing he’d told Peter.

“We should find some little mom and pop newspaper and let them have the exclusive.”

Pepper smiled.

“It wouldn’t work and you know it. We’ll have a media day – at the tower, where we can control who comes in and who goes out. Give them an hour.”

“Not a huge crowd.”

“No. Very few, to make it less overwhelming. Maybe we can let them come have a snack, let them ask Peter some questions – with you right there beside him, and maybe Natasha Romanoff looming in the background looking dangerous to keep them from getting too comfortable.”

He nodded his approval of that, and knew Romanoff would agree if he asked.

“No video cameras and lights, though,” he added. “Just some pictures and paper to take notes with.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And they all need to bring him a present.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Why?”

“Why not?” he asked, shrugging. “If they want to spend any time with him, then they can bring him something. It’ll make him happy.”

Pepper shook her head, amused.

“I’ll start sending out feelers when we get home,” she told him. “We’ll allow three people.”

“Don’t invite anyone in particular,” the billionaire suggested. “Let them fight each other to be the ones who get to come.”

“You don’t care who it is?” she asked, surprised.

“Not in the least. If they’re warm and caring and careful, they’ll stay. If they’re assholes, they’re out on their ear, and I don’t care what they brought Peter.”

She hesitated, and then shrugged.

“Alright.”

He smiled, leaning back and relaxing in a way that he never really had in her company, before. It was nice.

“Tomorrow is going to be an easy day,” he said. “New Orleans square, the haunted house and riding the railroad. Loud, but slow.”

“You really think he’s going to be alright with the haunted house?”

“We’ll see. If it’s too much, we’ll skip it and do the Indiana Jones ride, again.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“We rode it six times.”

“I know. Peter likes it.”

And so did Tony, really.

“We’ll try the haunted house, first.”

“Yeah.”

And then the Indiana Jones ride.

><><><><><> 

“Got him okay?”

Tony nodded, smiling down at the sleeping child that he was holding, and then over at Pepper who was sitting across from him on the plane.

“Yeah. He’s good.”

Even though it was early evening, it was still dark by the time they boarded the jet to go back to New York. Since there wasn't anything to see out the window in the dark, Peter had settled in the chair beside Tony to start the flight, and then, when they’d taken off and leveled out, he’d crawled from his seat over to sit in Tony’s lap.

When the billionaire didn’t do anything more than put an arm around him to hold him in place, the boy had relaxed and had fallen asleep almost immediately. Stark had absently pressed a kiss against Peter’s temple and had turned his attention back to the conversation that he’d been having with Nick.

It hadn’t been a long one, and when the SHIELD director had ended the call, Tony had switched his attentions to Pepper, who had her shoes off and was relaxing in the plush leather seat. The flight had been relaxed, and they’d both ended up dozing off, worn out from a week of chasing a little boy through acres of theme park.

“I had a good time,” Pepper told him. “Thanks for siccing Peter on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently. He smiled, though. “I’m glad you came. It was a good time.”

“And I had a chance to get to know Peter, better,” she said. “So there’s a personality behind every story you tell me about him, now. And I might believe you if you try to tell me that he needs your attention more than I need you to be at the tower for a meeting.”

“Added benefit,” Stark said, smirking. “I didn’t think about that. Don’t I qualify for some kind of paternity leave, now?”

“I believe that you might,” she admitted.

“And I can’t wait for the tax right-offs.”

“He’s one little boy,” she reminded him. “Don’t go crazy, now.”

They both smiled at that.

“I think we’re going to spend the weekend recuperating,” he said.

“And school on Monday?”

“No. As a matter of fact, according to Nick, we’re going to need to keep Peter out of school all next week.”

“Why?”

“Because half of his SHIELD agents – including Maria Hill – and most of the Avengers have come down with Peter’s cold.”

He was clearly amused rather than concerned.

“Oh, no.”

“Yes.” Tony brushed a hand against Peter’s hair when the boy stirred in his embrace, but he didn’t wake. “So, since his security detail is sick, and the corridors of the compound reek of Vape-o-rub, we’re going to wait until everyone’s healthier and we can have the school vetted, completely.”

“It might be a good idea to just wait, then, until the media meet him.”

“I’ll talk to Nick and Romanoff.”

“And to Peter,” Pepper reminded him. “To make sure he understands why the delay.”

“Yeah. Good point.” He was going to have to get used to the idea of bouncing things off the boy, after all. “Want to come over this weekend?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not tired of me?”

“Nope.”

She smiled.

“I’ll think about it. But I have a lot to do. No promises.”

“Fair enough.”

Chapter Text

“Well?”

Peter hesitated, looking out the window of the SUV at the huge house in front of them.

“It’s nice.”

Tony smiled.

“Think it’s worth going in and looking at?”

“Yeah.”

It was Sunday morning, and they’d taken all day Saturday to rest and recuperate from their trip – and allow Peter a chance to call the avengers and double-check that they really were alright. There was some coughing, and raspy voices, but when he spoke with Natasha, she assured the little boy that they were fine, and everyone had just caught a cold. They weren’t in any more danger, she told him, than he had been when he’d been sick. Then she asked him all about the trip to Disney, and smiled when he assured her that he'd brought her back a present.

He'd brought everyone a present.

Feeling better (although maybe a little guilty) Peter had nodded when Tony suggested that they go look at a couple of houses that the realtor had picked out to match the requirements both the man and the boy had wanted in their future home. Most of the requirements were Tony’s; he was picky about how many bedrooms, what they featured, the kitchen, the appliances, a proper yard – and some extra area around it, the size of the place and the fact that there absolutely had to be sufficient wiring to handle what he’d do to the place to set JARVIS in the home network.

Peter was just hoping for a swimming pool and a bedroom that had a big window.

This one was surrounded by an iron fence and tall shrubbery, with a private driveway and a secure gate, with a pre-set security system. The realtor had made sure the place was open in case the billionaire wanted to drop in, and they’d taken him up on it. It was the second house that they’d looked at that morning.

The first one had been opulent, but didn’t have as many rooms as Tony wanted. And there wasn't a spot to put the piano.

“Come on, buddy.”

Tony offered Peter his hand, automatically, as they walked up to the porch, and then through the front door.

“Wow.”

Peter looked around with interest, but so did Tony. Not only at the house, itself, but at Peter’s reaction to it. When they looked into the bedrooms – and there were four – he watched when Peter ran over to the window to look out over the yard. A quick walk through the rest of the place; kitchen, dining room, huge family room, and even a room that Tony mentioned would make a good game room. A space for a den and a workroom for the billionaire so he could still tinker at all hours of the day, and a proper place to showcase the piano.

“What do you think?” Stark asked as they walked out the side door and looked at a swimming pool that was more than big enough for the two of them – as well as any large group of superheroes that they might want to invite over, someday. “Could you see us living here?”

“Forever?”

“That’s the plan.”

Peter hugged himself, excitedly.

“It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?”

That made Tony smile.

“Yeah.”

><><><><><> 

“Are you nervous?” Natasha asked, standing next to Peter.

The little boy nodded, looking up at her.

“A little. Tony doesn’t like them.”

The assassin smiled, taking Peter’s hand. They were watching a video display that showed the room next to the one they were waiting in. A small room, furnished with a table and some chairs. The table held crayons, coloring books and Legos. It also had three distinctive giftbags on it; each one with a bow and ribbons in every shade of blue. There was another table with refreshments, pushed against the far wall. As they watched the display, Tony moved into the room, standing with Pepper and waiting.

A moment later, Happy opened the door and three people were ushered into the room. Two women and one man, and while Peter didn’t recognize them, most everyone else who watched news definitely would. They silently walked in and looked around. Not finding what they were looking for, they turned their attention to Stark and Pepper.

The billionaire didn’t make them wait long.

“Ground rules,” Tony said, speaking before Pepper could welcome their guests.

Peter smiled, and Natasha squeezed his hand.

“We’re listening,” said the oldest of the visitors.

“One question at a time. Nothing complicated. You act like human beings and you don’t frighten him, or everyone goes home without a second chance. Got it?”

The three nodded. None of them liked being told what to do, or how to conduct an interview – even with an eight-year-old – but they all desperately wanted to be there.

“Agreed.”

“You have one hour,” Tony added. “Or until Peter’s done.”

The three nodded, and Stark turned toward the door where Natasha and Peter were waiting and nodded. A moment later Romanoff and Peter walked into the room. The boy walked over to stand beside Tony, while Natasha went to stand near Happy, and now both were watching the newcomers, intently.

Waiting for them to make any move that might prove to be a threat to Peter.

“You okay?” Tony asked Peter.

The boy nodded.

“Yes.”

He brought his hand up and Tony took it. Then the billionaire addressed the news reporters, again.

“This is my son, Peter Stark. He’s eight. He likes Legos, coloring and – for some reason I can’t fathom – Batman.”

Peter smiled.

Mindful of the scrutiny of the others, the reporters all smiled, too.

“Hello, Peter,” one of the women said, stepping up to offer him her hand. “How are you?”

“Good.”

The boy looked up at Tony and Pepper, and Stark smiled, reassuringly.

“It’s okay, buddy. They’re just going to ask you some questions.”

He and Peter had discussed this several times the last few days while they’d been waiting for Romanoff to recover from her cold and then lead the team that vetted the reporters, and the upcoming meeting, preparing for the media introduction to Peter. He knew what was supposed to be happening, and Tony had done a good job of preparing him.

“Okay.”

Tony led Peter to the table, and the reporters followed, seating themselves, as well.

“What do you like best about living with Mr. Stark?” the male reporter asked.

“Being with Tony.”

The billionaire smiled at that and he felt Pepper take his hand.

Then the two of them watched as the media slowly and very carefully introduced themselves to the child, and then joined him at the table, playing with Legos as they asked him questions and tried to learn more about the little boy who was now heir to a fortune and would almost certainly become one of the most known faces on the planet in the upcoming days.

Chapter Text

“That went pretty well,” Pepper said, looking pleased as Happy followed the reporters out of the room a little over an hour and a half later.

Proof that it had gone well, really, since the initial plan had been for them to only have an hour. The three were so careful, though, that Peter had been really enjoying himself; playing Legos with them, and the discussing coloring, and what he liked to do most. Rather than interrupt to tell them that their time was up, Tony and Pepper had allowed the extra questions and play time.

It probably didn’t hurt that the boy had spent several minutes of that time opening the three gift baskets and had been genuinely excited to find more Legos, coloring books, action figures of all kinds (including Batman, Tony noted, sourly) treats, and Hot Wheels. The three news people weren’t above bribery to get an exclusive and Tony wasn't above extorting them to allow it. Peter was oblivious to it all, but was the happy recipient of the machinations of both parties.

“It went great,” Tony agreed. He looked at Peter. “You did great.”

The boy smiled.

“They didn’t ask me about what I can do, though.”

“Because we’re going to keep it a secret,” Natasha said. She was sitting at the table, now, gnawing on a carrot stick. “The less people who know about that, the better. At least until we learn what all you can do.”

“What are they talking about?” Pepper asked, curiously.

Romanoff frowned.

“She doesn’t know?”

Stark shrugged.

“It never really came up.”

“Are you planning on keeping it from her?”

“Not really. Like I said, we haven’t really had a conversation that allowed me to introduce the-“

“What are you two talking about?” Pepper interrupted.

“Me,” Peter said.

“Peter,” Tony agreed.

“What about him?”

“Well, he’s pretty extraordinary.”

“I know.”

“No. You only know some of it.”

She looked at the little boy, and then back at Stark, expectantly.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s smart,” Tony said. “And he’s cute, of course, and pretty level-headed, most of the time. But there’s much more to Peter Stark than meets the eye.” He smiled at Peter. “Isn't there?”

The boy nodded, smiling, shyly.

“A little. Yes.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Tony replied.

“Just show her, then,” Natasha said, getting to her feet and picking Peter up. “Watch this, Pepper. You’re going to love it.”

While Pepper and Tony watched, the assassin carried Peter to the wall, turned him around so he was facing it, and pressed the boy right up against the blank area. Then to Pepper’s shock, she took a step back – and Peter stayed where he was.

“What did you do?” she asked, her expression blank with shock. “How is he staying there and not falling?”

“Well, that’s still somewhat of a mystery,” Tony said, walking over and plucking his son from the wall. Peter smiled as he was turned around, and rested his cheek on Tony’s shoulder, looking pleased with himself. “We only know some of it – and that isn’t much, because Peter doesn’t know much of it, either.”

Tony told her the story, but it didn’t take long, of course.

“So he can literally stick to walls?” she asked, amazed.

“You saw it,” Tony pointed out.

“He isn’t very good at getting down, though,” Natasha added. “Once he’s there, he needs someone to come help him.”

“I moved a little, once,” Peter said. “But I went higher, and couldn’t get loose.”

“Does it hurt?” Pepper asked him, reaching out and taking his hand, turning it palm up so she could look at it. “When you come off, I mean?”

“No. Not when I stick, either.”

“That’s amazing. Like a spider, huh?”

“Or a beetle?” Natasha asked, winking at Peter.

The boy smiled, but he was watching Pepper examine his hand.

“It doesn’t always stick,” he told her. “Only when I might fall, or something. Then I can catch myself – or when I do it on purpose. Like in the bathtub.”

Now it was Tony who smiled, his eyes amused.

“I had to get him off the wall of the tub, because he wanted to see if he would stick to a soapy wall.”

“And he did?”

“Yup.”

“Is that one of the reasons that you decided to adopt him?” Pepper asked. “To make sure he’s close to the Avengers?”

“Nope.” Tony didn’t seem concerned that Peter would worry about that – and from the relaxed way Peter was acting, he wasn't concerned, either. “I adopted him because I love him and wanted to keep him for myself. I’m stingy and don’t like to share. You know that. The Avengers will be able to help him use these abilities – when he’s older – but right now, they’re just aunts and uncles that are good company. Right, buddy?”