Stolen // Irondad

Chapter 7

"Do I have to go to school?"

Peter glanced up at his dad, his eyes wide like a puppy's. It had been a week since they had rescued him from Hydra - and he had spent most of that time under constant watch from both Bruce and Stephen.

Tony looked at his son, Peter's expression made him feel guilty: and he wasn't sure why. As he sat down beside him, he ruffled the kid's scruffy, brown hair.

"I thought you liked school, Pete."

Peter looked at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with his father, "I do, it's just... I don't feel ready to go back yet."

Tony didn't know what to say: he didn't want to force the kid into a hard situation, he just was certain there was more to the story.

"Well, you can stay off today. But tomorrow you're going. And that's final."

Tony stood back up, pulling the Iron Man blanket off of Peter - wrapping it round himself.

"Hey that's mine!", Peter exclaimed, jokingly, as he jumped up after his dad.

"And it's got me on it."

They laughed. Moments like this made Peter forget about all that had happened to him, but it wouldn't last long. Eventually... it would all come flooding back.

* * *

Peter followed Tony into the dining room, taking a seat by the table. His dad passed him a plate - a full English breakfast on it.

"Dad, are you going to stay at the Tower with me?"

"I've got a meeting now, kiddo, but I'm sure someone else will be around."

Peter nodded his head, stuffing his face with all of the food on his plate. He'd probably just watch movies all day - at least he didn't have to stay in the medical room. But his hunger didn't completely mask his disappointment.

"If it makes you feel any better, Spider-Boy, you can come on patrol with me later."

Peter smiled, that did sound like fun, "Yeah, maybe I'll do that."

Tony put on his sunglasses; then he hugged his son, stealing a piece of toast off of his plate.

"Bye, Underoos," he said, as he walked out of the room.

"Bye."

* * *

Clint walked in on Peter, as the kid was putting his empty plate in the dishwasher.

"Hey, Peter," he exclaimed, sitting down onto the sofa, picking up one of the fluffy, white pillows: and throwing it at the teen.

"Hi, Uncle Clint," he muttered, catching the cushion.

He walked over towards the older man, sitting down next to him.

Clint picked up a copy of Star Wars: Revenge Of The Sith, and passed it to Peter, "Wanna watch this, with me, young Padawan?"

Peter sighed, embarrassed: "Sure thing, Master Kenobi."

By the Battle of the Heroes scene, Clint and Peter had acquired two lightsabers - reenacting the fight.

"This is the end for you my master," Peter yelled - attacking Clint with his plastic, laser-sword.

"It's over, Peter, I have the high ground," Clint replied, jumping from the floor onto the sofa.

"You underestimate my power!"

"Don't try it."

Peter jumped at Clint, and got knocked to the floor - but instead of feeling the light, toy weapon hit his body, his Uncle started tickling him.