Work Text:
Peter dropped down from the counter, the box of fruit loops making a little shaking noise as he landed. He turned, and went to pour the dry cereal into the bowl, the milk on the counter, when he noticed someone standing there.
"Who are you?" They asked.
Peter instantly felt defensive, but didn't want to start anything. Tony and Pepper had people coming and going all the time, business deals and the such. So instead he put on a polite face and said, "Peter."
"Peter who?" They sounded annoyed, their face was tense, eyebrows drawn and their eyes cold.
"Peter Stark." Peter was out publicly as Tony's son, they chose to not hide his identity, but the press conference for it wasn't until next Monday.
The man's glare got darker. "You're no Stark. Stark's aren't puny. Or stupid."
Peter stepped around the counter, sizing up the man. He couldn't tell if this man was an actual threat, or just an asshole setting off his spidey sense. "Um, the papers said so. Born a Stark, and raised one, thank you." Peter snapped, running his hand through his curls.
In seconds, the man's hand was around his wrist, tight- yanking it from his head. The other hand smacked his face. "Boys don't talk back to adults. It would do you well to learn manners, brat."
Peter's eyes watered as the man yelled, the handprint on his face stinging. But he didn't back down, he faced worse shit out on patrol, the only thing he had to do was keep it human. "Excuse you. Hitting isn't nice. And neither is being rude to other people."
The man, who didn't let go of his wrist, stepped back in shock, yanking Peter with him. Peter stumbled forward. "How dare you?"
"I dare, dude. I don't know who you are but my dad says respect is earned not giv-" Peter fell to the floor knocking the jug of milk to the floor in a crash, his wrist yanking out of the man's strong grip and popping, right out of socket.
"Ow!" He yelled, his tears coming full force at the burst of pain.
"You will respect me. I do not care what your stupid father says, you petulant brat. You're scrawny and weak, and I have no clue how you got inside my son's house, but you need to leave before I call someone to deal with you."
Peter whimpered on the floor drenched in milk, his ass and leg burning from how he landed, and his wrist killing him. His head was ringing from the loud yelling and the stinging on his face, he was sure he had a mild concussion. "Y-your son?"
"You're so useless you can't even stand right, knocking over milk jugs. Get out. Now."
Peter felt tears start to fall. He flinched and closed his eyes as the man raised his hand again, only for the hit to never land.
"Don't you ever touch my son."
His dad.
Peter opened his eyes to see his dad, perfectly dressed in a dark gray suit, with one gauntlet pointed at the man's face and his other hand around the man's wrist.
"How dare you touch me, Anthony." The man yanked his wrist out of Tony's grip, stepping back. "Remember your place, I am your father."
Tony walked to the side, his eyes never leaving his father. His hand stayed up, holding the gauntlet at him, as he moved to be in front of Peter- between him and his father. "You need to remember your place. You are in my home. You are a guest . For one, you have no right to tell anyone what to do or demand anything here. Two, you have no right to speak to my kid. Ever."
Howard was so angry, Peter could practically see the comic book style wavy lines around him in shock at the retort Tony growled. "Your kid? He's too weak to be a Stark." The man paused for a split second. "Then again, you were always very mouthy- thinking you could get away with brainless smart comments. Hey, maybe he's a faggot too."
Tony charged up the repulsor, enough to freak out someone who didn't know the power of it. Peter knew how powerful it was, and knew at the setting it was at,firing it would barely heat the skin. But, as Peter watched his eyes flicker down to the weapon in front of him, he knew the man was scared. "Go ahead. Insult Peter one more time. See what happens." Tony barked. "I was never strong enough to stop you as a kid. But I sure as hell am now."
"Strong? Steve was strong. You were weak-"
"I think I'd stop that sentence right there." Peter glanced over to the doorway, and standing there was Steve Rogers and Pepper Potts.
"Steve." The man startled.
"It's Rogers to you. You come here, asking for friendship with me, and then you do this to my boyfriend and his kid?" Steve was standing tall, raging in his face.
"Boyfriend? You're a faggot?"
"Stop saying that. That word, among others, is banned in our tower." Pepper spoke harshly, using her powerful business voice that sent shudders down anyone who listened.
Howard ignored Pepper. He stared at Steve. "I can't believe this. My son infected you? Didn't he?"
Steve stepped towards Howard. "I'm not infected. I was gay before I met you, and I'll continue to be gay until I die. Get out of the tower and away from my boyfriend and son before I make you ."
Howard seemed angry, but he was shaking. Scared. He knew what Steve was capable of, which was probably why he was fearful. "I can't believe this." He said as he started to scamper back. "You're not the same man I knew."
"Yeah well seventy years in ice and waking up in a world that you're finally legal in changes a person. Leave, Howard." Steve growled, pointed at the door.
Howard glared one last time before he ran toward the elevator, followed by Pepper and three huge security guards.
At his disappearance, Tony turned around in a rush. "Peter, honey, tell me what hurts." He panicked.
Peter was silently crying, now leaning up against the wall. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He was soaked in milk, shivering, and his face was red, either from tears or being slapped Tony didn't know. He was sitting on his left hip, leaning clearly in pain. "I didn't mean to spill it. Or cause a fight."
Tony reached forward, only for Peter to flinch away. Tony felt tears come to his eyes. He never thought he'd see his son physically flinch away from him. "Peter. I won't hurt you. I promise. Can I see where it hurts? Please, bambino?"
At the soft nickname, Peter calmed slightly, his breathing taking a lighter pace that didn't rack his whole form. He held out his wrist, now swollen and red, turning purple and blue in some spots. "My hip hurts. And my head."
"Jesus christ, Pete. We gotta get you down to the medbay." Tony said.
Peter's eyes widened. "No shots. Please." He begged. Tony's heart broke.
"I'll try my hardest to keep them away." He held his son's wrist lightly in his hand as he looked in his eyes. "Let Steve carry you, okay?"
Peter nodded. Tony turned, and looked slightly at Steve with a look of 'please carry him down, Steve.' Steve smiled slightly, pity in his eyes. Like he needed to be asked. He walked over, and reached down, positioning himself so he could lift Peter straight up with minimum adjusting with his good hip against Steve. One hand under his knees, the other curled around his back. "On the count of three, okay? Tell me when you're ready, Peter."
Peter nodded and took a few deep breaths. "Okay. Ready."
And with that, Steve lifted, Peter whining with the movement of his hip. Steve instantly had the front of his shirt soaked in milk that came off of Peter. "You're okay, Petey." Tony comforted.
Once Steve settled Peter, Peter felt the rush of adrenaline leave almost instantly. He was cold, and it was draining his body, but he was safe in Steve's arms, with his dad guarding him carefully. He started to feel drowsy, his eyes heavy.
"Don't go to sleep on me, underoos." Tony said as they walked.
"'m 'red, dad." Peter mumbled, eyes dropping. He could feel the pace of Steve's feet quicken.
"I know, baby. I know you're tired. But stay awake." Steve cut in.
"But j'st a 'nute. I be 'ght b'ck." Peter mumbled.
"Baby no, open those eyes." Tony said, the elevator door dinging. When did they get in? "Go fast, Friday. Please."
"Certainly, boss." Friday responded. "Young boss, it's recommended-" Friday's voice was fading. "-conscious while under con-" Why was she in a tunnel? "Young boss-"
"I love you, bambino."
-----
"Where's the blue nightlight, Daddy?" Peter asked from his bed. His sheets were star wars, and he was all tucked in.
"The blue nightlight?" Tony asked as he picked up Peter's stuffed wolf from the floor and flicked on his R2-D2 night light on the wall. "R2-D2 is silver, Petey."
"No. The one you hold when you hold me. Can you hold me and the nightlight?"
Tony paused from where he was picking up clothes on the floor. "The one I hold?"
"Yeah. It always keeps the monsters away, cause Daddy's a superhero that has a blue light thst defeats them." Peter laughed. "I like the blue light."
Tony walked to the bathroom to toss Peter's clothes in the hamper. "Yeah bambino. I can get the nightlight. But you gotta tuck Starky in." He pointed to Peter's favorite wolf at the foot of his bed.
"Okay!"
While Peter tucked Starky in next to him, Tony took off his thick hoodie, leaving him in the white t-shirt he had on in the lab earlier. He laid down next to Peter, and cuddled in. "Now will you go to sleep, underoos?"
Peter laughed. "Yeah, Daddy. Night-night."
"I love you bambino."
"I love you too, Daddy." And little Peter let his eyes close.
And then they were open.
He was alone in his room, his father gone. Starky was next to him though clutched in his grip. It was dark outside, storming. Something was beeping. What was beeping?
"Daddy?" He called. No response. "Friday? Can you get Daddy?"
"Yes, young boss."
Minutes later, Tony came rushing in. "Peter honey? What's wrong?"
"What's beeping?"
Tony smiled. "Well honey, that's monitoring your heart."
"My heart? But why?"
"Because you got hurt, and while we were fixing that, we found something else. But in order to make sure you're okay, we have to listen to your heart all the time."
"But I'm not hurt. I feel okay." Little Peter was starting to get distressed. The beeping was getting faster.
Tony held Peter's chin, making him look at him. "Peter honey, I need you to wake up."
"Daddy?" Peter whimpered. "I am awake." He gripped Starky, and held him up. "See? If I was asleep I wouldn't be able to hold Starky up."
"Peter. Wake up. Please. I need you to come back." His dad was begging now.
"But Daddy-"
His father stood up next to the bed, holding his hand. He leaned down and kissed his face. "I have to go. But when you wake up, I'll be here. And Starky too."
"Wake up?"
"Yes underoos. Wake up. Please, my darling."
Peter didn't understand. The wind and rain were banging against the window, it suspiciously dark outside for it being night in the bright New York. His dad was acting weird. "Okay, Daddy, I'll wake up." He was scared. He wanted his father, he wanted his blue light.
His father smiled. "Please wake up. I love you, bambino."
------
"I love you, bambino. I need you to wake up."
Peter's eyes felt heavy. He could hear the rain beating against the window, and it was dark as he opened his eyes. "Can you turn on the blue light, Dad?" He croaked, his voice rough and scratchy. Peter was unsure where he was now, what time it was. Why was his bed so big?
Tony's hand, which was running through his hair, stopped. "You're awake, oh my god. Peter." He leaned over and yanked his son into a hug, careful of injuries. Peter took in the sight of his older father, and slowly felt reality seep back to him. He’d dreamt an old memory, but twisted?
He didn’t have enough time to think on it when Tony had released him and reached out to pushed a nurse call button. "Wait- the blue light?" He asked, unsure he’d heard his son right.
But Peter’s throat was hurting so bad he didn’t even want to think yet. "Water, please?" He croaked.
Tony reached over and grabbed a cup of ice water for Peter, putting it to his lips. His son drank greedily, almost drinking it all. "Slowly. You don't want to choke." Peter gasped as he finally released the straw to breathe.
"Are you okay?" Peter asked his father.
He froze, staring down at his son. Peter moved his arm slightly, only to bump into something soft and fluffy. Upon glancing down as little as he could, he saw a stuffed animal. His stuffed wolf. Starky.
"Starky." He whimpered, tears coming to his eyes.
Peter looked up at his dad. "You brought me Starky." He was taken aback by the crying that met him. His dad was crying softly.
"Bambino, what's the blue light to you?"
Peter blushed. He let his mind travel back to his little self. He hadn’t brought up the arc reactor in years, considering his father got it out while he’d been staying with his pseudo aunt and uncle over summer break. "The blue light you used to hold while you cuddled me. Or so I thought. It really was your arc reactor- but I thought you were holding a light. It made me feel safe, I liked it."
"And you still feel safe with me? Even now?"
At that Peter looked concerned. "What? Of course."
At that, Tony cried more, cuddling his son. "I'll never let anything happen to you again if I can stop it. I promise."
Peter felt safe as his father held him. He felt warm and sleepy. Despite the lack of blue light since he was no longer six- he was sixteen and his father had gotten rid of it some time ago, he still felt it's presence.
Because it wasn't the arc reactor that was the blue light he felt safe with. That was just the physical appearance his emotions had attached too. His father was the real blue light.
And with that, within his father's arms and holding Starky, he fell asleep, the blue light casting over him.
The nurse that would walk in later would check his vitals while he slept and leave him to sleep more, since he was alright.