#webpril 2021 day 20 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anarchyduck · 3 years

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Peas in a Pod

Day 20 Alt Prompt: De-Aged

(posted it on AO3 yesterday, forgot to post it here oops) AO3

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“So let me get this straight,” - Tony massages his temple in effort to soothe his growing headache - “There was a wizard.”

“Yeah,” Ned nods. “And he was shooting off fireballs, like real fireballs, and it was awesome and kinda scary and-”

“Ned. Ned. Find the shortcut to the point. Because nothing explains” - Tony gestures towards the couch - “that.”

Ned blushes with embarrassment and nods . “Right! Sorry, sir. So, uhm, Pete was fighting the wizard guy and he was doing really good! Was totally kicking his ass! And then the wizard like, shot him with some kind of purplish black energy ray stuff? Like it shot right out of his hands. Then the wizard was gone and Pete was… like this.”

Tony eyes the kid on the couch. Same curly brown hair. Same doe brown eyes. It’s everything else that’s wrong. Peter is sixteen, a teenager, and this kid looks like he’s no more than five years old.

As for Peter, well, he looks content watching videos on Ned’s phone. Some children’s cartoon about dogs or something, Tony didn’t quite catch it. But the kid likes it and he isn’t crying anymore so Tony counts that as a win. Judging from the confused state the kid was in upon arrival, it’s safe to assume Peter’s memories are wiped. Or, rather, memories of his life in the present day which is a problem in and of itself.

“So,” Ned’s drawl catches his attention. “What are we going to do?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “We?” he shakes his head. “No, no, you are going home.”

“What about Peter?”

Yeah Stark, what about Peter?

“He’ll go with his aunt.” Tony says simply. Easy enough solution.

“You mean you can’t like, fix him?” Ned asks. “What if he ends up staying like this forever?”

Tony waves off the teen’s concerns. “He won’t.” he assures. “Whatever the wizard guy hit him with will probably wear off in a couple hours. Easy peasy.” After all, the kid couldn’t stay like this forever, could he? That is just absurd.

----------

The effects don’t wear off.

Two hours later and Peter is still a child. Ned is gone, reluctantly dragged out by Happy who also delivered clothes that fit the kid better so he’s no longer swimming in the Doctor Who shirt Tony assumed belonged to one of the boys. During that time, Tony contacts May to fill her in on what’s going on. The woman is stuck at work (“We’re incredibly short staffed today, it’s ridiculous.”) and unable to leave before her shift is over.

It leaves Tony in charge of the kid which, while normally wouldn’t be an issue, he suddenly finds himself out of his depth. Teenagers, he can handle. No problem. They could be reasoned with. But small children?

“Mr. Tony?”

Tony jumps, spinning on hell with his hand pressed firmly against his heart. “Holy shit!” he gasps.

Peter flinches back, eyes wide and looking as startled as Tony feels. Then his bottom lip begins to quiver.

“No no, don’t cry.” Tony says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to scare you, kid. You snuck up on me. Ought to put a bell on you someday.”

That earns him a giggle which washes away the rising guilt. “Uncle Ben says that too.” Peter says. “Says I’m really good at sneaking.”

“You are good at sneaking.” Tony affirms. “What are you doing down here anyway? Thought you were watching TV?” Least that’s where Tony left him. Kid was content with watching the cartoon with the dogs and he figured he could get some work done tracking down the wizard guy.

“I was, but it’s over now.” Peter says dismissively, his eyes already wandering the workshop. Then he actually begins to wander. Tony watches him, contemplating on whether it’s a good idea to let a four year old wander his workshop. It isn’t exactly kid proof and if he knows anything about kids (which is very limited) it’s they like to touch everything. And put things in their mouths.

“What’s that?” Peter asks and Tony leans to the side to look past the monitors and equipment to see what the boy is pointing at.

“Oh that’s DUM-E.”

The robot chirps in response, clicking it’s claw as it peers curiously at the boy. Tony takes a couple steps towards them, immediately thinking Peter might fear the robot. Much to his relief, the boy’s mouth is agape with wonder and eyes equally wide.

“Wow!” he gasps. “Hi DUM-E. I’m Peter.” Peter reaches up to pet DUM-E’s extended arm, giggling as the robot chirps at him. “So is he a robot?”

“Yep. I made him.”

“You made him?” Peter gives him the same look of wonder and amazement. “Wow. Are there other stuff you’ve made?”

“I’ve made a lot of stuff.”

And so Tony gives the kid a proper tour of the workshop. Like his older self, Peter is sharp minded and incredibly smart. He asks questions Tony doesn’t think a four year old would know to ask and hangs onto every word Tony says. When he introduces Peter to FRIDAY, the kid is so ecstatic he can’t sit still. It warms his heart to know Peter keeps that same excitement as he aged.

After the tour, Tony brings him into the kitchen to feed him a late lunch. The kid sits on the kitchen counter next to him, watching Tony’s every move. PB&J sandwiches are the easiest thing he can fix and turns out to be the kid’s favorite.

“So you’re a superhero?” Peter asks curiously.

“Sometimes.” Tony replies as he spreads the peanut butter onto the bread.

“Like Batman?”

“Kiddo, I am way cooler and richer than Batman.”

Peter giggles and Tony thinks it might be the cutest goddamn thing he’s heard all day.

“My daddy is like you.” the kid says suddenly.

“Oh yeah? How so?” Tony asks, finding himself equally curious. He knows through his early research into Peter Parker that the boy’s parents are deceased. Father worked for OsCorp, mother worked for some type of law firm. Aside from the atrocious choice of working at OsCorp, both of them seemed relatively normal.

“Because he makes stuff. B-But not robots like you do. He makes other stuff and-and he white wears a coat and he helps people.” Peter gives a long, wistful sigh then and adds, “I want my daddy and mommy.”

Tony freezes, butter knife stuck in the jar of jelly. Quite suddenly he remembers something else about Peter’s parents.

They both died in a plane crash.

When Peter was four years old.

The man internally panics, mind going blank on what to do, what to say because what can you say?

“Mr. Tony?” Peter’s little voice draws him from his internal crisis. He tilts his head, looking at him curiously and, dare Tony say it, concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Tony sniffs and finishes up the kid’s sandwich. “Yeah, totally fine kiddo. A-OK. So you want this cut up?”

“Yes.” Peter replies, apparently moved on from the incident. Yet, as Tony puts the knife to bread in order to cut, the kid shouts, “No! No no, not like that! You have’ta make the X.”

“Huh?” Tony looks a little helplessly from the kid to the bread.

“The X!” Peter leans over and traces an X on the sandwich. “Like that!”

Tony cuts it up according to the kid’s desire and it’s only then that he sees what the kid means. “Yeah, guess it does look like an X when you cut it, huh? Well, here you go kiddo. Eat up.” He slides the plate to the boy’s side.

Peter takes a large bite and hums with approval as he chews. “‘Ood yob!” he says around his mouthful. It’s the additional thumbs up that makes Tony chuckle. He grabs a juice box from the fridge for the kid, something teenage Peter would have rolled his eyes and grumbled about. Toddler Peter says a polite ‘thank you’ and picks it up with fingers covered in grape jelly.

He decides to capture the moment for May and pulls out his phone. “Heads up, kiddo.” he says and takes a picture. Peter is caught in a half smile, peanut butter smeared on the corner of his mouth. There’s a glob of jelly on his shirt that’s run down the image of Thor’s hammer.

“I wanna see! I wanna see!” Peter instantly demands.

Tony moves to stand next to him and flips the phone for the kid to see the picture. Peter grins and immediately reaches for the phone. “Uh uh, sticky fingers.” Tony says, which gets the kid giggling about being called ‘sticky fingers’. He moves the phone out of reach and sends the image off to May.

“So,” Tony says. “What do you want to do after lunch? TV? Go play with DUM-E? Whatever that wannabe Merlin did to you took away your powers, or maybe just suppressed them. Maybe we ought to run some tests to figure that out.”

On second thought, maybe not. Teenager Peter detests needles; he imagines little Peter hates them just as much.

“DUM-E!” Peter says excitedly.

“You’re going to spoil that bot, kid.”

---

“Thank you so much, Happy.” May says as she steps into the Tower’s elevator. “You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have drove.”

Happy directs FRIDAY to take them to the penthouse then shakes his head. “It’s no problem.” he says. “Boss wanted to make sure you got here quickly and with that guy who attacked Peter still running around-”

“Right.” May sighs. “Well, guess he could have done worse things than turn Peter younger. At least him and Tony seem to be hitting it off.” She smiles fondly as she recalls the image Tony sent her. She only hopes Peter has been good while they wait for her.

“Yeah, well, the kid’s grown on him.”

“I feel a little jealous, honestly.” May admits. “Peter was so cute when he was little.”

The elevator comes to a stop, the doors slide open to the entrance of the penthouse. It’s oddly quiet inside and the lights are dimmed. “Tony?” Happy calls out as he and May walk through the foyer into the living room.

It looks like a tornado hit it. There are papers thrown about with childish drawings covering them. A sheet covers the kitchen table which has been pulled away from the dining area and there are mini marshmallows covering the floor with some sticking to the large windows that overlook the city. A device that looks like a mini catapult sits on top of the table next to a pile of marshmallows and markers.

May follows the chaos, finding the TV on with the Incredibles playing on a low volume and both Tony and Peter fast asleep on the couch. Peter is still a toddler in every way May remembers, sleeping with his head on Tony’s chest. There are stickers on their faces and she spots marker smears not only on Peter’s arm but also on the hand that’s resting on Peter’s back.

“Did you find-” Happy starts, quietened as May shushes him. He comes to her side, expression softening at the sight. “Least they kept each other busy.” he remarks.

May nods in agreement as she pulls out her phone to take a quick picture of the two. “Like two peas in a pod.”

#webpril 2021 day 20 #webpril 2021 #peter parker #tony stark #irondad #ned leeds #may parker #happy hogan #spiderman #spider-man #iron man #marvel #mcu #duckie's writing

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stefciastark · 3 years

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"Please! I-" ~Webpril Day 20

A/N: Today's is short and sweet, but I enjoyed writing out a bit of an argument scene :) Dialogue scares me to write, weirdly enough, but I think it's because I'm so afraid of writing the characters out-of-character, so this was a fun but slightly anxiety inducing exercise. Peter really is going to be the death of Tony. Hope you enjoy xx Only 10 days left!

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

“Please! I-”

“Zip it, I don’t want to hear it.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Tony dragged his hand down his face, taking deep and measured breaths to hold on to whatever semblance of reason and sanity he had left. “You could have died. Did that even cross your mind for a second?”

“But I didn’t.” Peter’s voice was small, shrinking back against the cold fury that pulsed off of Tony in waves. It felt worse than the post-Ferry altercation between them months prior, and Peter had promised himself he wouldn’t screw up like that again. Well, the promise didn’t last long, and Peter - as Tony put it - screwed the pooch, hard. Again.

“You don’t even know how to fly a plane, Peter, you’re not Captain Sully. This isn’t ‘Miracle on the Hudson’, you could have killed people!”

“People would have died if I didn’t do something, Mr Stark!”

What had started as frustration turned to anger, and what was anger was now turning into resentment.

“I expected more from you, kid.”

Tony’s disappointment felt like a slap to the face, and the anger and indignation Peter had been holding in for months finally exploded.

“I’m so sick of you underestimating me! You tell me how much you want me to be better, about how now that I’m an Avenger I need to step up from just protecting the ‘little guy’, but you never give me the chance! At every opportunity or sign of real danger you bench me, so when I saw my chance to prove myself, I took it.”

Tony’s tone dropped to a frightening level of calm, and Peter clenched his fists against the faint trembling that had started.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. Do you understand that? I don’t need you chasing the life of a martyr.”

Despite himself, Peter felt his head nodding, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to retaliate. Tony reminded Peter a lot of Aunt May sometimes. They both had an innate ability to scare the living hell out of him. Their anger was like a hurricane and reminded Peter of an Eye of the Storm. It began with chaos, lulling to a stillness and silence that gave Peter one last chance to backpedal, followed by more chaos. Backpedaling seemed like the most viable choice this time around; Peter was more afraid of losing the suit again.

“I just wish you’d give me a chance…”

Tony sighed, an exhausted sound that drifted past his lips into the tense air between them. “I know. Do you remember that little talk we had after the ferry incident?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t lose you, kid. Every time you swing from a building, I’m afraid the cord will snap. Every time you go up against bad guys with guns, I’m afraid the bullet won’t miss. Bottom line is, I can’t have you giving me a heart attack every mission. Now this? This was almost a cardiac arrest.”

The aggravation Peter had been experiencing slowly transformed into a sickening feeling of guilt. For the first time, he really saw the circles under Tony’s eyes, the very faint and almost imperceptible trembling in his hands - although that may have been from anger, Peter couldn’t tell - and the deepened frown lines on his mentor’s face.

Peter’s heart was still pumping with adrenaline from the incident, the rough jolts as the aircraft hit the water still vibrating through his body. He had managed to land it in the Upper Bay area between Manhattan and Staten Island. Why the hell did it always have to be in the Upper Bay? First the ferry a few months ago and now a plane. Peter mentally vowed to steer clear of the whole area; in all likelihood, the next crisis in line would be a bus incident where it would somehow end up in the water, and he would somehow be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Third time’s the charm.

“I’m sorry, Mr Stark.” Peter closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression - Peter almost wanted to call it ‘regret’ but he quickly shook that thought away - on Tony’s face again. He felt like ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t quite cut it. In all actuality, he wasn’t sorry in the slightest for doing what he did. Peter was more sorry that he was the one causing the slightly premature grey hairs on Tony’s head.

Peter felt the movement of the space in front of him as Tony moved closer. The anger from the atmosphere had dissipated, leaving behind only an air of bone-deep weariness.

“I’m not going to take your suit, so don’t give me that whole ‘deer in the headlights’ thing.”

Peter swallowed against the lump in his throat. The weight of the snowballing pile of emotion lifted off of his chest and ironically made him emotional once again. This time, relief won out. “Thank you Mr Stark. I just really want you to give me a chance, y’know?” He really hoped his voice wasn’t wavering.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Pete.” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder and worried his bottom lip for a second before continuing. “You did great today.”

The conversation came to its end as the warmth lifted off of Peter’s shoulder, and he turned to watch as Tony walked towards his portion of the Avengers facility.

Tony smiled inwardly as he approached the hallway that led to his segment of the facility, the smile a reaction to Peter’s heroic performance that he’d never let the kid see. He didn’t want to send the wrong message that impulsivity and recklessness should be the default. Then again, who was he to talk? He felt a deep-seated sense of pride, and he had to shake away the accompanying intrusive thought that asked him whether or not Howard had ever felt that way towards Tony’s triumphs.

As he caught sight of himself in one of the passing reflective surfaces, the image of salt and pepper hair and bags - that sure as hell weren’t designer - under his eyes greeted him. Peter really was going to be the death of him.

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