Life's a bitch {stony}

9.Italy?

Part 1: Packing and the Jet

Steve was meticulously folding and tucking away clothes into suitcases—Morgan's colorful, Peter's slightly too worn—all for the massive surprise trip Tony had orchestrated. The Barton family was coming, too. Tony might have gone a tad overboard this year. The only thing missing was...

The thought of his oldest son, who should now be fourteen—just two months senior to Peter—made Tony's husband's heart clench. He missed Harls so much.

Three years. Harley had been away for three years, staying with Tony's Aunt Elena. Tony still missed him, intensely. Sure, they video-called every two weeks, and there were the sporadic, sought-after text messages, but a kid... their son needed more. Their kids needed them, their parents.

A blur of motion—Peter, tearing into the room—shattered Steve's thoughts. Peter started launching himself onto the massive bed, laughing, while his little twelve-year-old sister, Morgan, instantly joined the chaos, giggling and bouncing. Both were smaller, more rambunctious versions of Tony.

Steve let a heartfelt laugh escape him, though he quickly layered it with a stern, disapproving head shake. He was trying, and failing, not to smile at the two little brunettes who knew, absolutely knew, they shouldn't jump on the bed. Steve put a firm hand on each bouncing shoulder to stop them, which immediately prompted groans and a unified, whining "Papa!"

STEVE:What did I tell you two about being cheeky?

Morgan pulled a face of pure mischief. "To embrace it."

Steve frowned dramatically. "No, I didn't."

Just on cue, as always, Tony sailed into their bedroom, looking impossibly put-together. Both kids instantly jumped off the bed, flying into him with a screaming "Daddyy!" Tony scooped them up, tossing Morgan high before effortlessly pulling Steve into a solid embrace.

STEVE:Why do you always arrive just on time to prevent me from grounding them and make you look like the good parent?

Tony scoffed, shaking his head. "You accuse me even when I'm not here..." He let out a loud snort, glanced at his watch, and asked, "Are you ready?"

STEVE:"Yes."

Part 2: Flight Path Anxiety

Instead of the utilitarian Quinjet, they were traveling on one of Stark Industries' luxurious private jets. Laura was tucked away in one of the private rooms, watching Morgan and Lila play together. Peter, Clint, and Cooper were huddled upfront, locked in an aggressive game of 'Uno.' Natasha was already asleep in her seat next to Tony on the second row. Steve and Wanda were situated in the back. Wanda, only fourteen and turning fifteen in four months, had only come because she had to.

STEVE:"You okay?" Steve asked. Of course, she is not okay, he instantly chided himself.

Wanda looked out the window, her expression tight. "Yeah... I feel uncomfortable flying on a 'Stark Industries Jet.' It brings me bad memories..." She ended the phrase by biting her lower lip hard.

After a few tense seconds, Steve quietly slid his hand over hers and squeezed it gently for reassurance. "I am sorry, next time we should have thought—"

Wanda interrupted him, her words tumbling out. "NO, It's fine... I should get used to it, right?... after all, I am living in the same building... I am sorry, I shouldn't be talking like this... He's your husband and he is a good person and everyone seems to trust him..."