I Dreamt We Had a Kid

Chapter 5

"I don't feel so good."

Drink.

"I Don't want to go, sir please."

Drink.

"I Don't want to go..."

Drink.

Tony looked at the bottle of rum he was holding. He rotated it in his hands, watching the small amount of liquid slosh from side to side. How many bottles had he drunk now? 2? 3? He wasn't counting.

He sat at his cluttered desk in his lab, staring at the only pictures he had on his desk. One was of him and Pepper. It was from a vacation they had taken in Hawaii. Lord knows he never took vacations, so when they had taken the week to spend time with each other, it was incredible.

He and Pepper were sun tanned, flower necklaces around their necks. Pepper had a margarita in one hand, and held Tony's hand in the other as they walked down the beach. Tony was drinking water because he had given up alcohol per Pepper's request.

"So much for that." He mumbled, taking the last sip of the rum and holding it in his lap.

The other picture was of him and Peter. The two of them were in Tony's lab, focused on their work. Peter had the biggest smile on his face, fiddling with his firefighter robot, while Tony had a hand on his shoulder, a look of pride and true happiness plastered on his face.

Tony chucked the bottle at the wall, the pieces shattering all across the ground.

"Why Peter?" Tony cried, "What did he do to deserve this!" His head fell in his hands, the emotions and alcohol had finally broken him.

"It should have been me! It should have been me!" He screamed at the ceiling, "You hear me! It should have been me."

He, Tony Stark; billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist, was crying. He hadn't cried when his parents died, or when he thought he killed all his friends, but he cried now. He cried because he had lost his fiance, his child.

His child

He would have been a father. She was pregnant. Maybe a part of Tony thought he was a father anyway. To Peter.

Peter was dead, Pepper was dead, and his unborn child were dead.

"FRIDAY," Tony said to the ceiling. "Play the file," Tony swallowed. "From that day in the lab."

"Yes, sir."

The projector started to play the video, the day Peter had fallen asleep with the flu on the couch.

Tony watched the tape, watched as he tucked Peter into a blanket, watched as a delirious Peter called him dad. He stroked the necklace around his neck as he watched, imagining Peter sitting with him.

Tony paused the video, and watched it again and again.

Dad.

Tony had failed. Failed as a mentor, failed as a fiance, failed as a hero, and most of all failed as a father.

He was going to get Peter back, you bet your ass he was. He was going to get Peter and Pepper, and Stephan, and all the people who died.

"Incoming call from Wakanda." FRIDAY's voice said.

Tony knew he looked like a mess, he was completely wasted, and he hadn't showered since he got back.

"Answer it." his 3D panels showed him an image. An an image he never thought he would be happy to see again.

Steve Rogers.