Work Text:
Arguments didn't happen often, but when they did, they tended to blow over fast, with tearfu l apologies and late night movies spent curled up close on the couch, like every clingy family with separation anxiety handles arguments.
This was not one of those times.
"Don't try to act like my father now. You gave that up a long time ago."
"Peter, I made a mistake-"
"...I won't forgive you,"
"I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm acknowledging that what I did to you was wrong." He tries to stop the shaking in his hands. The tremble in his voice. Nothing is working.
"It's too late now! I don't want to be surrounded by liars!"
"Peter, its okay that you're angry-"
"What else have you hidden from me? Is any of it real?" There are tears in Peter's eyes.
"Of course it was, Peter! It was all real!"
"Except you lied to me about being yours!"
"It felt like you were! I just needed time!"
"You needed time? Try twelve fucking years!" Tony flinches back. Peter doesn't curse. Not Tony's Peter. "You let me live a lie for twelve years!" Peter's hands come up to grip his hair, a sign of distress that Tony's not quite sure where he picked it up from.
Tony doesn't want this. Tony hates himself for not getting it over with earlier. The longer Peter lasted in Tony's arms, the more it hurt trying to tell him.
Really, the second Tony saw Peter, small and frail, he knew he was done.
Mary, who Tony barely knew, died giving birth to Peter. Tony was in Tokyo when it happened. Richard, devastated, could barely even look the child in the eyes.
As soon as Peter was old enough, Richard basically handed Peter to Tony, only to die six months after.
Peter, then one, still held the curious look in his eyes, wondering why Tony was pacing around the way he was. Peter reached out when Tony passed him, tiny fingers curling around one of Tony's own.
If Tony wasn't already, he was done for the second it happened.
From them on, Peter was Tony's everything.
And it only got harder to tell him.
So this, the argument, the shouting, the yelling, the tears in Peter's eyes? It was Tony's worst nightmare. There wasn't anything Tony wouldn't do to fix it.
"You have every right to be upset, Pete-" but Tony was cut short.
"I don't need you to tell me that, Tony!" He feels like he's been punched. Years and years of being Iron Man, fighting villains, being put down, shoved, nearly dying, yet nothing ever hurt as much as this.
Tony. Not dad.
"You lied for years! Were you ever going to tell me?" That was the million dollar question. More than that, even. Billion dollar question. Maybe even more.
Tony thought about it often. The where, the when, the how. Nothing ever seemed good enough. Not for someone as amazing as Peter.
He lay in bed, late nights of just thinking about how terrible it was to keep lying. But the next morning, he'd see Peter's face and nearly break down at the thought of losing him.
"Please, hear me out, Peter!" He's begging, pleading for an ounce of forgiveness that he doesn't deserve.
"Not now. I can't- you lied to me. I can't forgive that. Not- not yet." He sniffles, rubbing the tears on his cheeks. Tony would drop everything to pull his kid into his arms and forget about this. Just for a little while.
The more he thinks about it, the more selfish it sounds.
"You have to understand! Or, you don't, really, you don't owe me understanding, but just- I couldn't lose you, Peter!"
"You did that just fine on your own." Peter turns, and walks to the elevator without another word.
Tony is quick to follow, but the doors close before he can reach them. He calls for an Ironman suit, but Peter doesn't have his phone or watch, and Tony can't track him.
He tries, for hours on end. There's a twelve year old, out there, somewhere, alone. Tony's kid.
Somewhere in the same-filled panic blur he calls Rhodey, Pepper, and possibly Happy, he couldn't really remember if that was him or Pepper, too busy fighting off a panic attack.
Nothing.
Months pass.
There is nothing to show for it.
Peter completely disappeared from… everywhere.
JARVIS scans cameras, and logins, and school attendances.
There is nothing.
And Tony can't believe he just let Peter walk out like that.
He wakes up every morning, and stops short at Peter's door, so used to waking him up every morning, watching one sleepy eye open, and push the curls out of his son's face.
Some days are harder than others.
Sometimes, Tony can't eat. Or move. Or talk.
Sometimes, he sits on Peter's bed, holding Peter's favorite hoodie, the Star Wars one he wore everywhere since the day Rhodey bought it for him, reminiscing about what could have been if he just stayed honest.
He knows Peter. Peter would have never been mad at Tony for telling the truth. Peter was angry he found out through old internet files Tony had carelessly asked him to go through.
No matter if Tony is sobbing on the floor, or just incapable of speaking, Pepper and Rhodey are there through it all.
So when the accords happen two years later, it shouldn't bother him too much. After all, after losing Peter, nothing ever quite seems as jarring. But, it manages to shake him to his core over how far Rogers seems to be willing to take this.
Tony is Tony, though, and knows someone who might be willing to help.
It's on a rooftop in Queens that Tony meets Spider-Man, a youthful looking vigilante (though Tony cannot see his face, Spider-Man's build, voice, and general optimism tell that he is someone of younger years), who greets him with a warm hello.
Tony is less enthusiastic.
He offers an upgraded suit, and a trip to Germany.
"Mr. Stark, I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I've got homework." Tony levels him with a glare.
"'I appreciate the offer'? What is this, shark tank? Get outta here with that bull-" he clears his throat. This is a child, Stark. Get yourself together.
But Spider-Man laughs.
"You do bring up a compelling argument, but I've got homework." Tony offers an email asking for an extension, or to be exsused entirely. "I'll go. But you've gotta send me an email or something to cover this up."
His email is spooderfan189. "Short and inconspicuous. No one will ever know." Apparently, Spider-Man's self-proclaimed "Guy in the Chair" came up with it.
He rolls his eyes fondly when working on the suit for Spider-Man. He remembers his youth.
So full of hope and promise.
Though he was much younger when he lost his optimism.
He hopes Peter turned out as happy as Spider-Man. He could do with knowing that Peter wasn't out in that godforsaken onesie that Spider-Man wears.
But if Peter's… alive, and in Queens, Spider-Man will look out for him. And that's nice to know.
Trouble with the accords rises and falls, and then, Tony is sitting on a roof in Queens, resetting Spider-Man's broken leg.
He's in a onesie, because Tony took away his upgraded suit, and the kid's just babbling on and on about the fight, the warehouse, and the fucking plane.
This kid is so fucking brave, Tony can't even comprehend it.
Spider-Man stops talking for a moment, having let slip he lost his parents and lived with his aunt. He slapped a hand over his mouth almost immediately, cursing himself that he was so quick to trust.
Tony decidedly does not let warmth bloom in his chest at the thought of how much it reminds him of Peter. Young, easygoing, talkative.
"I had a kid too, once." Spider-Man gasps.
"You did?" Tony nods.
"You remind me of him." Spider-Man ducks his head.
"Sorry."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing." Tony smiles. It's bitter, because Peter's been gone three years and it never hurts any less.
"I still buy cake for his birthday, and some days hurt a lot more than others, but," Tony's inhales through his nose, because he knows this admission is going to sting. "But I know that if he's still alive out there somewhere, if he's still in New York, he's got someone like you looking out for him."
Spider-Man is eerily silent in the moments that follow. For a moment, Tony's worried he's offended him somehow.
"I- I was looking for my family when I found out my parents died. Like, my aunt and uncle, just anyone who would take me in." Spider-Man takes a shaky breath. "I made a mistake, it was night out and I didn't look when crossing the street, and I- and there was this car, and it didn't stop and I panicked and I was just standing there like some idiot, and when it hit, I couldn't…" he runs his hands over his masked face sniffling. Tony can tells he's never talked about this to anyone else before.
"I got hit." He says again, like this isn't the worst part of the story. Tony sucks in a breath at the admission. It's the second time he's hearing it, and it's still just as jarring. "And… and I could remember me, but that didn't even matter because the worst part was…" he takes a shaky breath. "Was I couldn't remember who my father was." He sobs out.
"I- I remember now, but… but it's too late."
Oh. Oh.
Because they're gone. And Peter hadn't realized.
"I was lucky my aunt found me when she did, because it was like some full-blown identity crisis. I felt like I was someone I wasn't all the time. I kept having these… these memories. They weren't mine, I realize that now, but…" Spider-Man sniffles, hands coming up to press against the mask. "It felt so real." When Tony doesn't answer, Spider-Man must assume he's done something wrong, because the next statement out of his mouth is, "Sorry, sorry. It's dumb, I know. You've faced worse before breakfast." Tony finds it in himself to (very professionally) snort.
"Are you kidding? What are you, ten?" Tony ignores the "I'm fifteen!" remark the kid makes. "I was doing stupid shit when I was your age. Building robots, ignoring my studies." Spider-Man sends him a look. Or, what Tony assumes is one. "Look, the point is, it doesn't matter what I've gone through. You don't have to downplay things that bother you, or have hurt you in the past because I'm some guy who you think has faced worse." Spider-Man nods slowly. Tony hopes he's getting through to him.
They sit in silence for a few moments. Tony pushes back the urge to lift an arm over the kid's shoulder. They're not there yet.
"Aw, crap! I promised my aunt I'd be back before ten! I'm so, so sorry Mr. Stark, I really gotta go! I'm gonna be in so much trouble!" Spider-Man stumbles to the edge of the rollercoaster to leap off it, but Tony stops him.
"Wait, kid!" Spider-Man stops mid movement, turning to face Tony.
"I figured you'd want this back?" He holds out a paper bag that he'd almost completely forgotten about during his conversation with Spider-Man. The kid in question looks at the bag, and up at Tony, and back down at the bag.
"Is- is this my suit?"
"No, it's my last stash of depression alcohol." Too soon, Tony. "Yes, it's your suit." He rolls his eyes, hoping to play off the instant regret that came from the heat in the first part of his sentence.
Spider-Man nods. Tony, knowing frighteningly little about the kid assumes there's confusion on his face.
Holy shit. That's Peter's first thought when he swings into the window of his apartment in Queens. He's just spoken to his dad. Again. And he will continue to do so, hiding under "Mr. Stark" and his Spider-Man mask. He knows it's similar to what his dad did, but he cannot lose Spider-Man. Not again.
It's not really about Spider-Man. It never was.
Peter knows this. He knows the deep rooted thought in his head is right. He's not still mad at his father, he hasn't been for the two years and seven months since he recovered his memories.
It would be hard for Peter to leave. Leave his aunt May, leave his apartment, leave his school. His dad does seem pretty cool though.
He wonders if his dad has changed at all since Peter left. Peter certainly has.
He looks down at his hands, stronger and stickier than when he was twelve. He's so angry at himself for leaving sometimes. Especially right now.
He saw the poorly hidden pain in his father's eyes. He knows what he's done. He hates himself for it.
It's all going to be okay. Peter feels it. Like his Spidey-Sense, but more like a concrete feeling of fate. Justice. Or maybe Peter just wants a second chance that badly.
Tony holds Peter's old Star Wars sweater close, flopping down onto Peter's bed.
"I just met up with the craziest kid." He tells the room, like Peter's there somewhere, watching. "I think you'd like him. He talks a lot, I'm pretty sure he enjoys Star Wars just like you do, based on this one comment he made, and he's got a laugh that feels like warm sunshine." Tony makes a face at his last comment.
"God, that was so cliche. You see this Peter? First you turned me into a big softie."
And then you left.
"And now this kid."
Will he leave too?
"He's kinda a dork."
No, Tony figures. He wouldn't do that.
"But he's so, so brave." Tony pauses. The warm feeling in his chest, the waves of protectiveness that swell in his heart, the need to keep him close (because let's be honest, holding him at arms distance was the worst idea Tony's ever had.)
"Oh God, I love him." Tony realizes with horror. But sperating isn't an option.
Shot number two, Tony. Do not, under any circumstances, mess this up. If you can manage to be anything but yourself, maybe there's a fighting chance here.
"No. No. It's okay. This is okay. My therapist says I need to open up again." He takes an uneven breath. This is not fine.
"Second times the charm, y'know?" There are tears in Tony's eyes. He should really stop making jokes that make him feel like shit.
Tony wakes up in Peter's room they next day. It's not particularly uncommon, though in the beginning he was deathly afraid of messing something up, destroying the neat shelves Peter kept (which Tony always thought was incredibly weird until he asked, and Peter told him that his messy room just didn't fit in with the rest of the tower). It wasn't long before the room started to collect dust, which was harder to watch than accidently shifting a few toys.
Whenever the sheets lost their scent, or the books got too dusty, Tony would carefully dust or wash wherever needed his attention. It was honestly more therapeutic than anything Tony had ever done for himself. Which might explain why is lab is as out of hand as it is.
"Boss, Spider-Man seems to be in mild distress. I am decting signals of highened heartrate, and a sight increase in Spider-Man's breath intake." Tony's head snaps up. "I am eighty-nine percent sure he is encountering the beginnings of an anxiety attack." FRIDAY informs Tony in the middle of his (very important, not to be disturbed) lab time.
"What?"
"Spider-Man seems to be-"
"No, no, I heard you, I'm just… can you patch me through to him?" A second later, Spider-Man's little spider icon appears in front of Tony.
"Hey kiddo, FRIDAY said you might be having some issues?" There's a panicked breath from the other side of the call.
"H-hey, Mr. Stark." His voice wavers.
"You all good?" Tony let's a little tiny smidge of worry into his voice. Is he okay? What's happening? Is he in danger? How can I fix it?
"Yeah, totally. Of course. All good." Spider-Man's words are quick, Tony doesn't want to pry, but he's so worried, and if Spider-Man's in danger Tony will go through hell and back to fix it.
He knows that, right?
"Ok," Tony drawls out skeptically. "Would you be okay if I flew out there?" He's already got Spider-Man's location. He's just waiting for Spider-Man's response.
"Sure. If you wanna. Not really much to see."
The flight to Spider-Man is a panic filled blur. Tony can't really remember much other than the relief when he saw Spider-Man on a roof nearby, no threats in sight. Despite Spider-Man's reassurances, Tony can't really help but worry. He seems to have a thing from playing off his injuries.
"Hey." Spider-Man holds out a churro. "Want one? I helped this woman with directions and she bought me two." Tony reaches a hand out to take the churro slowly.
"I thought something was wrong?" Tony asks, treading carefully. This is uncharted territory for him. The last thing he wants is to scare Spider-Man away.
"Yeah. It's… it's all sorted now." Tony doesn't really believe him, but makes a point not to press further.
Tony's heart nearly stops when Spider-Man rolls up his mask to just above his nose. He gives a nervous smile.
Trust. Tony realizes. He trusts me.
There's a moment where Tony allows fatherly affection to make it's presence known in his mind, before quickly shutting it down again.
That's enough feelings for now.
There's a little scar under his chin, a small birthmark sits a little ways below his ear, barely visible from the bunched up mask.
Peter had one just like that.
He takes a particularly angry bite out of his churro, watching people move about their day in the sidewalk many stories below, unaware of the superheroes sitting above them.
"Are you thinking about him?" Spider-Man asks, very quietly. He seems to have lost his confidant demeanor with the mask.
"About who?" Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb-
"Your son." Shit. "You get this far away look in your eyes when you think about him." He pauses. "And you get very quiet, which is unusual. You seem like the type of person who always has something to say."
Why does his voice sound so damn familiar?
"I didn't know you paid that much attention." The smile Spider-Man gives is blinding, the way it streaches across his face and the lenses on his suit close in a way that is so distinctly Peter Tony wants to hold him close and never let go, but also vomit at the same time.
"Sorry. I- I shouldn't have said that. My bad." The frown that follows sends Tony crashing back to Earth.
"What?"
"You were staring. There wasn't much emotion on your face. Don't do that again, it's weird to see you so indifferent." Then he laughs. "Sorry, Mr. Stark. That was mean." He manages through giggles. Tony allows himself to laugh, too.
"Yeah, kid. Really putting me in my place." Tony puts on a face of faux disappointment, placing a hand over his heart to mock offence.
I trust you. Peter wants to convey. He doesn't know how, but everything's kind of falling apart right now. He wants to come clean. He feels all wrong inside hiding his face from his father.
It's almost worse when he gets there. Almost.
It's better, Peter thinks, because he knows what love looks like on his father's face, he can see it if he focuses hard enough when he closes his eyes, the face of a much younger Tony Stark, with crinkles in his eyes from smiling down at his son, brushing Peter's hair from his face.
Because back then things were different. Peter never did the unthinkable, like get weird, freaky spider powers, or scream at his dad and run away from home.
"Do you still love him?" Peter hates himself the second he says it. It's terrible, he knows. His dad doesn't falter, just let's a warm smile crawl onto his face.
"Never with any doubt."
Tony spends the next few hours as Spider-Man's sidekick. He follows his intern around, watching him confront muggers and leap off buildings. Tony does not lose five years off his life every time he watches Spider-Man do something new and dangerous that makes Tony both in awe, and utterly terrified.
If Tony didn't already know, Spider-Man is a force to be reckoned with.
He tells Pepper all about the misadventures of Spider-Man and Iron Man over dinner, about how crime severely decreased when there was an Iron Man suit following Spider-Man's every move, even though Spider-Man was terrifying in battle when he wanted to be. Tony's seen it himself.
He tells Pepper about the kids in the park who hollered as Spider-Man passed by, and how he stopped swinging to check in how they were doing.
Spider-Man is really taking the "look out for the little people" comment more seriously than Tony imagined. He told Tony the first time they met how important it was that he look out for them.
Compared to the Avengers, Spider-Man was really good at keeping the city intact. He jokes that it's the single reason he's more favored than the Avengers. Tony wouldn't be very surprised if that was the case.
Spidey, which is a nickname Tony is still getting used to, having heard it in Queens, is everything Tony wants superheroes to be. Kind, generous, open-minded. Maybe looking out for the little guy does more than look good on your resume, Tony figures.
It happens all too fast, but not fast enough. Tony invites Spider-Man out to an Avenger's mission, hoping it will be an easy one, to help the kid get some experience on the field. Tony should know by now the missions are never easy.
It lasts hours, which Tony knows Spider-Man is both used to, and completely new to. He goes on patrol for hours on end, but the non-stop action is always a little much. Tony can't imagine what this might be like with enhanced senses.
"Is it over?" Spider-Man asks, clearly out of breath. Tony doesn't blame him, it was a long battle.
"I think so." Tony wraps an arm around Spider-Man's shoulders, trying (and failing) not to be awkward. Physical touch had always been hard, but after Peter it was at its worst.
"Regroup on second, everyone. Quinjet's already there." Sam says over coms.
"You heard the man, Spidey. Let's get out of here." Tony's faceplate slams shut, and he rockets off into the sky.
The worst of the battle- no, the worst of all of Tony's life, happens after the battle. It's just when they're ready to call it a day. Just before they go home.
Something picks up a piece of metal, ramming it into it's target.
Quentin Beck, the man behind the illusions, the man with personal beef with Tony.
"I do not lose." Beck hissed, venom clear in his voice. Tony's eyes are wide.
No. No. No, no, no-
Spider-Man looks down at the metal, then up at Tony, at the Avengers, and shakes his head.
He knows he's not going to make it.
Tony's breath catches in his throat.
Tony could be given a chance to live a thousand lifetimes and never be ready to say goodbye to Spider-Man.
Spider-Man broke down wall after wall that Tony had put up. He worked patiently, chipping away slowly at the vibranium laced walls Tony remained in constant upkeep of. Especially after Peter left.
Peter. Oh God, Peter.
Spider-Man. Not Spider-Man. Anyone but Spider-Man.
Was Tony destined to lose every son he ever had?
"Y'know, Stark, I've been targeting you for years." A maniac laugh.
"I spent years and years knocking you down, over and over, but nothing ever worked." Spider-Man lets out a strangled breath when the man's hand twists the metal pipe. Tony lets out a cry, like he's the one being hurt.
"But now, now I see."
"He's just a kid, Beck-"
"Ah, ah, you've done your talking. It's my turn. Years trying to get you to regret firing me. Now, now, I've got it. A front row seat watching your protege, your son perish in front of you, in the most painful way I can think of." He pauses, looking bored down at Spider-Man. "Without my drones, of course."
Tony can tell he takes pleasure in the way Spider-Man's body is bleeding out in front of him. It's sickening.
"I don't think Mr. Stark's going to like who's under the mask, don't you, Spidey?" He leans forward, to say it in Spider-Man's ear, and if Tony wasn't so powerless, he would have killed that man right there.
"N-no." He gasps out, and there's blood shining through the mask, staining it red. "Don't."
"That's his choice to make, now, huh?" And with that, Beck pulls the metal bar out of Spider-Man's stomach, letting him drop to the ground.
Tony pitches forward to catch him, not even caring how Beck flies off. He'd kill that man once Spider-Man was alive and safe.
He picks Spider-Man up completely off the ground, jaw clenching at the choked cry the teen makes, ordering a place in the medbay ready. They're close to the tower. FRIDAY says they can make it.
Spider-Man lets out another cry at the movement as they blast off.
"I know, kid, I know. It's okay. I'm gonna make it all okay." He murmurs, just like he would when Peter was little.
Now he wants to cry more. Nice going, brain.
Surgery lasts eight hours. Each second of it is a personal hell, burning bright like the firery red color that is Tony's eyes as of late. Pepper tries to get him to sleep, but so far her attempts are unsuccessful.
"Tony, come on. You're no use to him like this. Cho won't let anything happen to him." But Pepper doesn't understand, something sick whispers. He knows she does, the better, less-stressed part of him knows that she knows every last bit of what's happening, because she too mourned the loss of Peter, (he knows she has off days, too) and he knows she's felt the same with him.
The sound of a door opening distracts Tony from his thoughts.
"He's alive." Cho announces. Tony stands up so fast the chair he's been sitting in shifts against the wall, leaving a blue-gray mark against the white paint.
"Not so fast, I need to give you a warning. He's alive, but he's on ventilation. We had to remove his mask for surgery."
"Oh. It doesn't matter who he is. Well, it does, but it won't change my opinion on him. Spider-Man never hesitated to help anyone in need. He has beyond my respect for what he does."
"It's not- nevermind. You'll see for yourself."
Tony doesn't need more than that to enter the room.
The bottom half of Spider-Man's face is exactly as Tony remembers. He's got the little birthmark just under his chin, that you can only notice if you really look, and the tiny scar in the side of his face is there, too.
The top half… the top half looks just like-
"Peter?" Pepper's voice is hoarse behind Tony.
It's a fact, Tony knows. But it's too good to be true.
Spider-Man grumbles, shifting as the anesthesia wears off from surgery. Cho says he has enhanced metabolism, and that they had to put him on some of Cap's drugs, however, Spider-Man seems to have still burned through it pretty quickly.
"Hello, Peter. FRIDAY told me you woke up. Are you up to talking? I would like to know how you are feeling." Cho pushes past Tony and Pepper, who stand dumbfounded in the doorway.
My son. Is all Tony can put together. That's my son.
"'M ok. A lil' sore, I guess." Peter mumbles, just like when he was younger, waking up from long naps, or sleeping off a fever. Tony wants to stop, to cry, to sob, to pull his son close and never let go again.
Three years. Three years without you, and now you're here.
"How bad is it? Do you need any pain meds?" Cho's voice is beyond level, her frame is shockingly calm. How can she be calm when he's right there?
"No, it's cool." Peter flashes a lazy "ok" symbol with his hand, moving it mindfully of the IV line attached to it. Cho nods.
"Ask FRIDAY if you need anything. That's what I'm paid for!" She smiles at Peter and pushes her way past Tony and Pepper once more.
Peter looks sheepishly up at Tony.
"Hey."
He's here he's here he's here he's here-
"You're mad, aren't you? I'm so, so sorry, but my aunt, she's my biological aunt by the way, how cool is that? She's lost her husband and we've grown so close, and I thought if you knew you'd be like 'oh, come leave all that in the past and come fly away with me on all the rainbows and unicorns of the top one percent!' and I'd love that, but I love my aunt too, and I'd never want to leave her behind, and I've got this cool nerd-friend who also love Star Wars and I-"
Tony throws his arms around Peter in a tight embrace, cutting off Peter's rambles.
"Oh. This is nice." Hesitantly, like he's afraid Tony will take it back (he would never), Peter wraps his arms around Tony's midsection. Tony feels a hot mist in the crook of his neck, followed by soft sniffles.
"I- I'm sorry I left. I didn't mean it. Any of what I said. I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was, I was just so scared. Scared you'd take this away, scared you didn't love me, it's not an excuse and I'm so, so sorry." Peter's shoulders shake in Tony's protective hold.
"You have nothing to apologize for. I never should have kept that from you. Your family is an important part of who you are, and I shouldn't have withheld that from you."
Tony leans back, gently rubbing the tears from Peter's face.
"I'd never take you away from the family you created. I know as good as anyone that families aren't always foraged in blood. If you don't wish to stay-"
"But I do! I love you, that hasn't changed, I just… don't want to leave everyone else behind."
"Then maybe you let me join your little family. If that's not too much to ask, of course. Spend some nights here, at the tower. Some nights with your aunt, and we could have dinners. Like a normal family."
"That… sounds nice."
Tony doesn't usually celebrate Christmas. Not until Peter asked him if he'd join the Parker's Christmas dinner this year. It's been six months since he found out who Spider-Man was, things have changed.
Peter spends weeks with his aunt, and every Tuesday and Wednesday Peter spends from four to eight in the lab with Tony, before going home. In Fridays, Happy picks Peter up, and they spend the weekends together. Saturday's are Tony's favorite, where they find a spot, the couch, or one of they're bedrooms, and watch movies until their eyes burn.
In the six months Tony's gotten to know Peter again, he's every bit as intelligent as he used to be, and so much more. The sheer amount of pride Tony feels at everything Peter does is both horribly terrifying and wildly beautiful.
Mays had joined custody since the day Peter was born, Tony realizes after meeting her. She's furious for Tony keeping Peter away from her until she realizes Tony didn't even know she existed. It's become a joke that Mary and Richard never planned to tell anyone anything in the family now. Whether someone forgets groceries or to wash the dishes, "but Mary didn't tell me!" or "but Richard didn't tell me!" is a go-to excuse.
It's strangely domestic, after going so many years of fighting, of being without Peter, but Tony finds it easier to adjust as time goes on.
Peter opens the Parker's apartment door smiling brightly.
"Hey, dad." He says, Tony knows he's still getting used to that by the way his grin turns more close-lipped than before and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners.
He wonders if Peter knows that Peter's acceptance to a life that he's still a little fuzzy with the details on means the world to Tony.
Peter's unwavering faith in Tony's ability to be a dad still strikes Tony off his feet a bit. Every now and then he sees the little baby on the counter, little hand curling around Tony's own finger, wide eyes bright with hope.
He watches Peter over dinner, chattering happily with May and Pepper, then with Rhodey.
He turns to Tony again, smiling wide.
This is my son. He thinks. And just like every day before, there's no doubt in his mind.