Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve can’t help but wince when Tony helps him out of the front seat. He bites back a groan and holds onto his husband for support, thankful Tony is by his side. He never doubted for a second that Tony would ever abandon him, especially after giving birth to their first child, but he’s still grateful and considered himself blessed for finding a good man in this decade.

“I got you; just lean on me,” Tony says, helping Steve keep his balance. “I need to get the munchkin. Give me a sec, okay?”

“I think I’m okay,” Steve assures, but Tony doesn’t let go of him. “I’ll be alright. Is he still asleep?”

“Out like a light. Maybe you should get some sleep once we get inside.”

“I need a shower first.”

“I’ll help.”

Tony leads Steve inside their home, his arm still around his waist while he balances the car seat with the other. Steve assures him that he’s okay, but he knows his husband is stubborn. Tony also made a promise while Steve labored that he would hover just to make sure both Steve and the baby were okay.

Steve carefully lowers himself down onto the sofa, hissing out in pain from the tenderness brought on from the birth. The long hours of labor had been brutal, but nothing compared to actually pushing the baby out. Despite the serum running through his veins, he still felt every bit of agony that comes with giving birth, including tearing. Helen assured him his body would heal, but for him to take it easy.

Tony catches the pained expression on Steve’s face and he frowns. “I’ll get an ice pack. I made sure to keep a few pads with witch hazel in the freezer too.”

“Look at you all prepared for postpartum. I think you’re handling this better than me.” Steve tries to smile, but it comes off weak and forced. His body felt foreign to him in ways he couldn’t explain. The soreness in his muscles and the heaviness in his abdomen was something he hadn’t expected. He had fought wars, been in battles and suffered injuries that should’ve made recovery easier, but nothing compared him for this.

“You’re handling it the best way you can,” Tony replies, kneeling down beside the couch. “You just gave birth. Your body’s been through hell. It’s okay to rest and take it easy.”

Steve looks up at Tony, seeing the patience and kindness in his eyes. “I guess I just don’t like feeling so…weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Tony says firmly, and he brushes a strand of hair from Steve’s face. “You’re healing. You just did something so incredible and amazing. It’s not easy, but you did it because you’re so strong. Don’t rush this, okay? I promise I’ll be here every step of the way.”

Steve smiles, and this time it’s more genuine because he believes what Tony is saying. “Thank you. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“You won’t ever have to. I’m gonna unbuckle the kiddo and you can shower.”

“Actually, I think I need to pump again.” Steve frowns and looks down at his shirt, noticing the two stains. “I’m leaking.”

From the car seat, Peter begins to stir, his face scrunching up in displeasure and tiny hands balling into fists. Steve makes an attempt to get up, but when he’s not able to, Tony steps in, freeing Peter from the car seat and bringing him over.

“I think he can smell the milk. Kid’s like a shark once it gets a whiff of blood.” Tony laughs and gently lays their son in Steve’s arms.

Steve chuckles and adjusts Peter to make sure he’s comfortable, then with Tony’s help, he tries to get Peter to latch.

After a few minutes of being unsuccessful, Steve makes a noise of frustration. Between Peter’s high pitched crying and his chest leaking, it’s becoming too much. He still wants to shower and get comfortable, or as comfortable as his body will allow him.

“Why won’t he latch on? He did fine at the hospital.” Steve frowns.

“I don’t know,” Tony replies, though he doesn’t appear as stressed about it. Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t have to worry about feeding their son. He didn’t just have a baby. He didn’t deal with a pregnancy and pushing out another human being.

“Damn it,” Steve murmurs when Peter still refuses to latch onto his nipple. “Come on, Petey. Please eat. I know you’re hungry.”

Peter fusses and wails, his own frustration becoming evident. Steve heaves out a loud sigh, his eyes burning with tears. Why does he want to cry all of a sudden? Nothing was wrong. And yet at the same time everything felt wrong.

“Here, let me.” Tony steps in to help. It takes a few tries, but finally Peter latches on and begins to take his fill. Tony smiles. “There you go, kiddo.”

Steve stares down at his son, watching silently as he eats. Now that he’s gotten what he wants, Peter is calm, the room filling with the sounds of his gentle suckling.

“If you’re okay here I’m gonna get your shower started,” Tony says and he rises to his feet. He ducks down to kiss Steve’s head, then he makes his way up the stairs.

Steve tries not to panic now that he’s alone. He reminds himself he did just fine during his stay in the hospital, only for that annoying voice in his head to bring up the extra pair of hands he had to help with the baby. He didn’t have that now. Sure Tony was around to help care for their son, and he’s sure his friends would offer help if Steve needed it, but this was his baby and he needed to learn how to be alone and just fine with his son.

“We’ll be okay, right?” he says softly as he strokes Peter’s cheek. He smiles down at his son, his heart bursting with love for the little boy. “I think we can handle this. Just you and me together.”

But deep down he worries and fears the worst. What if he’s not cut out for this sort of thing? Could he really be a good father?

A single tear rolls down his face. He’s never felt so weak and pathetic in his whole life. Maybe be couldn’t do this.

Chapter Text

It’s sometime after three in the morning. Steve’s pretty sure he’s only had a total of two hours of sleep. Tony had accidentally woken up when he came to bed late, then Peter woke him up next demanding to be fed. Steve had nearly lost it on Tony, but he understood his husband needed some time for himself. But didn’t he understand Steve needed some time too?

Steve wanders around the dimly lit nursery, trying his hardest to get Peter calm. Peter was the type of baby that demanded to be held. Steve didn’t mind at first and he was fine soaking up all the cuddles, but the late-night feedings became difficult because of Peter’s clingy attitude. It was bad enough Steve was struggling with lack of sleep, and now he had to deal with not being able to put his son down.

There was no reason for Peter to be this upset. He ate okay, he had a fresh diaper, and miraculously no leaks through his pajamas. And yet he still refused to settle down.

“Come on, Petey,” Steve says, his voice full of desperation. All he wants to do is crawl back into bed and sleep for days. He hates to admit it, but he’s taken being in the ice for granted.

Peter continues to wail, his high-pitched cries probably loud enough to wake the whole tower. He wonders if they should have soundproof walls installed just to save their friends from these kinds of nights.

Steve makes a noise of frustration and decides to move to the rocking chair, hoping the gentle back and forth motion would soothe his fussy son.

By some miracle it works and Peter starts to quiet down, his loud cries tapering down into soft whimpers. Steve breathes out a sigh of relief and he tilts his head back against the chair, his eyes falling shut for a moment. He only means to rest his eyes, but with the heavy exhaustion he feels, it’s easy to drift off to sleep.

Steve jolts awake with a gasp when he feels someone shaking his shoulder. Tony is in the room now, standing beside him with a look of concern on his face.

“What happened?” Steve asks and he glances down, finding Peter still asleep in his arms.

“You fell asleep. Honey, why didn’t you wake me? You could’ve dropped him,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t miss the hint of disappointment in his voice.

“You were asleep.”

“So? I could’ve gotten up.”

“You hate early mornings. And you went to bed late.”

“Yeah, that was dumb.” Tony chuckles and he makes an attempt to reach for Peter, but Steve pulls back.

“Please don’t. He’s actually calm for once,” Steve says.

“You can’t camp out here all night.”

“It might be easier.” Steve frowns and peers down at his son, thankful he’s still undisturbed.

“Let me help, hon. He’s my kid too and I don’t want you to think you have to do this alone.”

“I don't think that.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Tony could always see through him. He knew him better than anyone.

Steve heaves out a sigh and looks up at Tony. “Fine. Maybe I do think I have to do this alone. I’m the one who has to be up for the feedings and—”

“I can feed him. We had a pretty good system down the other night. And if I’m not waking up enough then please smack me with a pillow.”

Steve smiles. “Noted.”

“Hey,” Tony says softly, but his tone still holds a level of firmness to it. “I’m here to help. It takes two to tango, right? You don’t have to do this alone and no one expects you to.”

“Thank you. I guess I’ve been in my head a little bit. This is a lot.”

Tony nods. “Yeah. Good thing we’re a team. Now can I take the little guy so you can sleep?”

Steve makes a face, the idea of waking their son dampening his mood all over again. “If he wakes up—”

“Then I got him,” Tony assures. Then once Steve gives in, he gently takes Peter out of Steve’s arms. Peter stirs and they both freeze, a look of panic crossing over their faces. “Don’t move. Nobody speak,” Tony whispers.

“You’re speaking,” Steve whispers harshly.

Peter yawns and stretches his little arms, then he begins to drift off again and they’re able to breathe.

“That was close,” Tony says softly, careful not to be too loud and risk a meltdown. “You go back to bed. I got it. I’m used to being up.”

“Tony—”

“Get out of here, Cap before he senses you or something. If I need anything I’ll wake you.”

Steve gives in, maybe a little easier than he’d like to admit. Maybe it was the comfort of his own bed calling him back, or maybe it was the fact that he wouldn’t be near his son for a while. He loved Peter more than anything in the entire universe. But right now he wanted to be alone. He needed some peace.

Chapter Text

Steve looks around the living room, a heavy sigh escaping him as he finally acknowledges how disorganized the space is. He’s been ignoring it for a few days, too busy with his son and too exhausted to care about the dishes overflowing in the sink and the clean clothes that have been tossed on the loveseat. He keeps telling himself he’ll get to it, or sometimes Tony will beat him to it and put their laundry away, only for more to end up in the hamper the following day.

Their home never used to look like this. Steve took pride in their space, making sure to keep up with it. It helped to have a clean home with the type of jobs they have. Sometimes they weren’t home for days to maintain the state of their apartment. Now Steve was home all the time and yet he couldn’t bring himself to wash a few dishes or vacuum.

Peter is finally asleep after hours of fussing and screaming his little head off. He’s lying in his swing, the gentle motion soothing him off to dreamland. This would be the perfect time to catch up on some housework, but that’s the last thing on Steve’s mind. He doesn’t dare run the vacuum and disturb the bit of peace he’s had in days. And the thought of loading the dishwasher or washing machine sounds exhausting. All he wants to do is collapse on the couch and sleep.

So he does.

But he’s only able to get twenty minutes of shut eye before he’s awoken by his own body. If he’s not leaking milk and ruining his shirts then he’s leaking blood. This time it’s blood and it’s already seeped into his sweatpants.

With a groan Steve pulls himself off the couch and moves as fast as he can toward the nearest bathroom. Just as he was expecting, the pad he had put on earlier was now drenched in blood.

“Shit,” Steve mutters, and with a huff, he reaches into the little basket beside the toilet for a new one, only to be met with nothing. He glances down and sighs. Just his luck.

“Honey!”

Steve perks up at the sound of his husband's voice, relief washing over him. Tony had promised he was going to be home early since he had a quick meeting with Nick to discuss a potential new mission.

“In here!” Steve calls out. “Don’t touch the baby.”

He can already picture Tony bending down to pick up their son. Tony’s been caught coming home and immediately wanting baby cuddles, only to end up waking up their son and causing him to fuss.

Footsteps echo down the hall, then Tony appears in the doorway of the bathroom. “How did you know?”

Steve doesn’t even shy away, knowing Tony has seen him at his worst. Tony saw him push out another human being just a few days ago. Finding him on the toilet with bloody sweatpants is nothing.

“I just put him down; let him sleep. Can you grab me a pad? I leaked bad.”

“Damn. How long does this go on for again?”

“Six weeks.”

“Shit. I’m sorry I’ve put you through this. I think we have some pads in the freezer. Do you want those? Are you still sore?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. Thanks, dear.”

Tony blows Steve a kiss, then leaves to gather what Steve needs.

A few minutes later, Steve is dressed in fresh clothes and feeling better from the homemade ice pack. Tony helps him to the couch and offers to get started on tidying up so Steve can take it easy.

“We could always hire some extra help,” Tony says as he washes a few dirty bottles.

“Do you think we need it?” Steve replies from his spot on the couch, his eyes on Peter’s sleeping form.

“Maybe? What about asking our friends? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to steal them away from their lives.”

Tony clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “It takes a village to raise a kid, honey. They’ve offered. You’re just stingy.”

Steve frowns. “I’m not. He’s my baby and it’s my job—”

Tony glances over his shoulder and makes an obnoxious fart noise. Steve frowns.

“Seriously? Very mature, Tones.”

Tony chuckles and finishes washing the dishes. He grabs a dish towel to dry his hands. “I’m just saying you need to let others help when you need it, that’s all.”

“I guess. I’m okay right now. I’m sorry the place is a mess,” Steve says, looking around the room.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tony walks over and ducks down to kiss the top of Steve’s head. “I’ll take care of it. Just take it easy and rest. I know you have the serum but giving birth is still a lot.”

“Tell me about me.” Steve winces and shifts in his spot.

“What hurts?”

“Everything.”

Tony’s expression softens, concern flashing over his face. He crouches down in front of Steve, resting a hand gently over his knee.

“I wish I could take it all away,” Tony says softly. “But since I can’t, I’m gonna do everything else. Laundry, dishes, diapers. You name it.”

Steve gives him a tired smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now lean back and relax. Let me spoil you.”

Tony helps Steve get into a comfortable position, making sure to grab the donut pillow for Steve to sit on. Steve hisses in pain at first and Tony apologizes.

“You okay now? Is it helping?” Tony asks.

Steve exhales slowly, nodding. “Yeah. I feel like my whole body has been through a war.”

“You basically have been. Your body’s been growing a whole new human. That’s hardcore, even for Captain America.”

Steve chuckles softly. “He was worth it though.”

Tony smiles, his gaze drifting over to where their son is sleeping. “He really is. He’s definitely got your stubbornness already. I can tell.”

Steve raises a brow. “Stubborn? Me?”

Tony leans in and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Yeah, you. But it’s one of my favorite things about you. You’re so strong. You keep going, no matter what.”

“Only because I have you with me.”

“Always. Now close your eyes, soldier. I’ve got everything else covered.”

Steve hums softly, finally letting himself relax.

Chapter Text

“Tony.”

No response.

“Tony.” Steve tries again, this time making sure to nudge his husband with his elbow. But Tony still doesn’t wake up. “Tony,” Steve mumbles. “Baby’s awake.”

Tony grumbles some kind of response but doesn’t make an attempt to get out of bed. From the baby monitor, Peter’s cries rise in volume, and with Tony refusing to get up, Steve yanks the comforter back and gets out of bed. He grabs his pillow and smacks Tony with it, then irritably makes his way to the nursery.

Peter cries even louder once Steve enters the room, sensing his father and knowing he’ll finally be getting some attention. Steve shushes him softly and scoops him into his arms. Just as Steve suspected, Peter is wet and in need of a fresh diaper.

Once he has Peter changed and dry, Steve lowers himself into the rocking chair and begins to nurse. Peter latches on without any issues, greedily suckling down the milk Steve’s body has created to nourish him.

“You were hungry, huh?” Steve chuckles, glancing down at his son. Peter doesn’t even react, too busy taking his fill. “I wish you’d let me sleep, Bud. But I understand; you’re hungry.”

Steve moves gently back and forth in the chair, the sound of the wood creaking and Peter’s feeding filling the space. Steve rests his head back, trying to keep his eyes open and not accidentally fall asleep like he’s been guilty of doing before.

Steve glances over at the entryway every now and then, half expecting Tony to come in and take over. It was his night after all. But Tony never does, and Steve gives up hoping by the time Peter is fed, burped, and ready to go back to his crib.

“Goodnight, Petey.” Steve gently strokes his son’s cheek, then he ducks down to kiss his head. “I love you.”

Tony is still asleep when Steve returns to bed, curled up around his pillow and snoring. Steve can’t help but feel envious of him. For the past three nights it’s been Steve getting up to take care of the baby. Tony promised they’d follow the system they created to ensure there’s fairness, but so far Tony’s already broken that promise.

“I took care of Peter,” Steve says into the dark. “You turn when he wakes up again.”

“When he wakes up…got it,” Tony mumbles sleepily.

Steve rolls his eyes and turns over with a huff.

The sun is just starting to rise and Steve gives up on sleep. Peter woke up a few more times in the middle of the night, screaming his head off for food or a new diaper. Tony didn’t budge once, somehow managing to sleep through their son’s high-pitched wails.

Steve goes through the routine of changing Peter’s diaper and preparing him a bottle. He wants to nurse, but his nipples are sore and he needs a break. He makes himself comfortable on the couch with a blanket and Peter in his arms. The smell of fresh coffee fills his nose, beckoning him to the kitchen in order to get properly caffeinated. But with Peter needing to be fed first, Steve holds off his own needs.

It’s difficult this time around to keep his eyes open. He has soft music playing from his record player in hopes of the melody lulling Peter to sleep. It’s not affecting Peter as much as it is Steve, and he knows he’s going to lose the battle to stay conscious.

“Steve?”

Steve jumps from the touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder. He cranes his neck back, finding Tony standing behind the sofa.

“Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in,” Steve says while trying to stifle a yawn but failing.

“Do you need me to take over?” Tony asks.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Tony frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Forget it,” Steve grits out. “Can you bring me my coffee? I need it.”

“Honey, just let me take him and you go back to sleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake up? It was your turn last night.”

“Oh shit. I told you to wake me if I didn’t get up.”

“I did! Sometimes I wonder if you even care.”

“Hang on.” Tony quickly rounds the couch to stand in front of Steve. “You think I don’t care? I do care, Steve. I care a lot.”

“I just needed you to get up with him. Why is that so hard?” Steve demands, his anger bubbling and threatening to overflow.

“I screw up once and you’re pissed at me? That’s not fair. I can take over tonight and tomorrow just to make up for it. I’m sorry.”

“If you didn’t stay up late in that damn lab—”

“You said you didn’t mind! I asked you before doing any work and you said it was okay!”

“Don’t raise your voice,” Steve says, his voice tight. “If you wake him I swear to God…”

“Stop being so fucking stubborn. I said I was sorry and it’s not even good enough.” Tony shakes his head and turns away.

“Where are you going?”

“To get your damn coffee.”

The moment Tony disappears from view, Steve chokes back a sob, tears spilling from his eyes. He tries to breathe to calm down, only to exhale a shaky breath. The tears keep flowing, some of them landing on the sleeve of Peter’s pajamas.

Helen had warned him that his hormones would be all over the place after giving birth, but Steve never expected it to hit him this hard.

Peter stirs against his chest, emitting a tiny whimper. Steve shushes him gently and presses a trembling kiss to the top of his head. He cradles Peter closer, trying to shield him from the overwhelming storm brewing inside of him.

Helen said it was completely normal, but nothing about this felt normal. His heart ached like it had been cracked open, his body still tender and unfamiliar. And now with Tony gone, even for just a moment, it was like all of his defenses were crumbling.

Tony promises they’d be a team and conquer parenthood together, but Steve’s never felt so alone and unsure.

“I’m okay,” Steve whispers, though the words seem more for himself than for Peter. He wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, breathing through another hiccuping sob. “We’re going to be okay.”

Chapter Text

It’s been almost an entire day of them not talking to each other. They’ve gone longer after a fight, sometimes weeks, but that had been so long ago. Back before they decided to get married and start a family. After that, any fight they had was resolved within a few hours once both parties were calm. Now, Steve wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Tony has been holed up in the bedroom with the baby while Steve catches up on housework.

Steve scrubs at a plate, muttering under his breath. Tony could drive him insane. He loves Tony to death and doesn’t regret wanting to build a life with him, but that didn’t mean Tony never got under his skin. Sometimes he’d bury himself under so deep Steve would nearly lose his damn mind.

He tries to stay calm, knowing getting worked up over Tony’s idiocy wasn’t going to do him any good. He’s thankful he at least has a moment of peace. Would he like spending that time washing dishes? Absolutely not. But these days, he can’t complain. He loved Peter more than life itself, but god, he needed a break

However, that break doesn’t last long.

Peter’s ear-piercing wail cuts through the sound of the running water. Steve mutters a curse and nearly slams the plate into the sink. He places both hands on the edge of the sink, his knuckles turning white.

“Just one goddamn minute,” he murmurs angrily.

“Hey,” Tony says, coming into the kitchen with their screaming newborn. “I know you’re pissed at me but he’s hungry.”

Steve’s jaw clenches. He grabs a coffee mug, scrubbing it like it personally offended him.

“Then make him a bottle,” he snaps.

“I did. He doesn’t want it. He wants you or something.”

The mug slips from his hand and crashes into the sink—on purpose or not, even he isn’t sure.

The mug shatters into pieces, fragments ricocheting against the sides of the sink and skittering across the countertop. Peter’s cries don’t falter—they seem to rise in pitch, cutting through Steve’s skull like broken glass.

Tony flinches. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t look at him. He’s frozen in place, his hands still in the sudsy water, staring at the ruined mug like he doesn’t recognize what just happened.

“I didn’t mean to,” he mutters, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.

Tony shifts Peter in his arms. “You threw it.”

Steve’s throat tightens. He wants to argue, to say it was an accident, to say he just slipped. But he doesn’t. Because he’s tired. So goddamn tired. And not just the kind of tiredness that sleep can fix.

He finally turns toward Tony, eyes red-rimmed and hollow. “I haven’t slept more than two hours in a row in weeks. I don’t even know what day it is anymore. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I’m—” He cuts himself off, his voice cracking. “I’m not okay.”

Tony blinks. For a moment, the tension drains out of his posture. “Steve…”

“I love him,” Steve says quickly, gesturing at the wailing baby. “You know that, right? I love him so much it hurts. But I can’t do this. Not like this. I feel like I’m drowning.”

Tony crosses the room slowly, carefully. He’s still holding Peter, but the baby’s cries have softened, just a little, as if even he senses the shift in the room.

“I didn’t know it was this bad,” Tony says gently. “You didn’t say.”

Steve lets out a bitter laugh. “You were too busy.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to the lab when you needed me.”

“I figured you were tired of hearing me complain.”

“I’m tired,” Tony admits, “but I’m not tired of you.”

Steve lowers his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I thought once the pregnancy was over, things would get easier. But I feel worse now than I did before. I feel…empty. Useless.”

Tony is silent for a beat, then steps close enough to rest his hand on Steve’s back. “You’re not useless. You’re struggling. And it’s okay to say that out loud. You don’t have to be super-soldier perfect all the time.”

Steve exhales shakily. He hates that Tony’s kindness makes the lump in his throat swell even more.

Peter hiccups a tiny sob and then goes quiet, blinking up at them both.

“I think he just wanted his dads to stop fighting,” Tony says softly, managing a weak smile.

Steve lets out a laugh that’s more breath than sound. “Yeah. He’s smarter than both of us.”

Tony shifts Peter into one arm and extends the other toward Steve. “Come here.”

Steve hesitates, then steps into the circle of Tony’s arm, resting his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. Peter wiggles between them, a warm weight grounding Steve back to earth.

“I think I need help,” Steve whispers.

“Okay.” Tony nods. “Whatever you need, I’ll help you. You’re not in this alone and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were.”

Steve sniffs and uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the snot from his nose. “I don’t feel like myself.”

“What can I do to help, sweetheart? If I’m not pulling my weight then tell me.”

“You’re a good father, Tony. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. I just…I don’t know what I need.”

“More sleep for starters.” Tony chuckles.

Steve huffs out a tired laugh and leans in, catching the familiar scent of milk and Tony. “He spit up on you, huh?”

Tony glances down at the damp stain on his shirt, blinking like he’s just noticed it. “Oh. Yeah—earlier. Couldn’t exactly change while holding this one.”

“Welcome to my world.”

Tony’s voice softens as he slides an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you. I know this has been hard, but I’ll do whatever it takes to help you feel like yourself again.”

Steve smiles, but there’s still exhaustion in his eyes. “Maybe just… get up more? Help with the mess? The laundry’s been out of control.”

“Honey, I’ll do it all. But we can also bring in some backup.”

Steve hesitates. “I’d feel bad asking.”

Tony shakes his head. “Don’t. They’ve been dying to come by and see you and the baby anyway.”

Steve perks up a little, the weight in his chest easing just slightly. “You mean… our friends?”

“Yep. I’m sure they’d love an excuse to come help. Worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I’m going stir-crazy here.”

“Then it’s settled.” Tony reaches for a dish towel. “You feed the little guy, I’ll finish the dishes, and after that? You’re taking a real nap. No interruptions. Doctor Stark’s orders.”