Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

Who Said That Only Blood Could Bond?

Summary: Peter finds out about Morgan, and well, thinks that he isn’t Tony’s kid anymore. Little does he know that he still is. 
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Peter Parker wasn’t someone who got jealous easily. He never pegged himself as the jealous type, despite all the trauma in his life, there were only rare instances where he’d contemplate living someone else’s life. However, the idea would get quickly shut down when he remembered that switching was a two-way street, so someone would have to experience all the anxiety, sadness, stress, and trauma that occupied in his form, and vice versa. Peter knew only how to cope based on his trauma, and as terrible as it sounded, he had grown used to his trauma, some burdens he’d share alone, others with a trusted adult. 

And that trusted adult happened to be Tony Stark. It was nothing against May personally, but there was something gravitating with Tony that May didn’t have. Both were equally supportive and caring, but Tony had the experience and could give him honest advice. Tony was like a father to him, and there was something about being someone’s kid that made Peter flutter in the most adorable way possible. 

And with years of memories, Peter had become a part of “the Iron family”, as dubbed by Pepper Potts. He and Tony were inseparable, both enjoyed each other’s company, finding refuge and safety in each other. The two even had their own variety of nicknames for each other, but Peter’s favorite was whenever Tony called him “his kid”, the nickname reminding him that he was in a better place, and no matter the good or bad, he had a home, as well as someone who’d be there 25/8. 

And their relationship was rock solid. Everything was smooth sailing, until sometime after the second battle of Thanos, or as Peter would dub, “part two of the infinite war” Tony had revealed that Pepper was pregnant. The elder man looked so happy, happier than Peter had ever seen with a wide smile, glittering eyes, the whole smick. And Peter couldn’t help but infect that energy, wearing a smile of his own as he offered his congratulations. The mood was positive until Peter realized that Tony was going to become a father, for the first time. By Tony having a kid of his own, would it mean that Peter didn’t belong anymore? 

Peter didn’t dare verbalize any of his thoughts, listening to Tony’s rambles. The teenager was genuinely happy, so happy that it hurt all the way to his stomach. Despite the smile on his lips, he couldn’t help but wonder if Tony didn’t see Peter as his kid now, not that he would have a kid of his own. But that would be a talk for probably never. 

Being that it was Friday, Peter would be staying over in his room until Sunday afternoon. Peter sighed quietly as he settled onto his bed, he’d miss his room. The large expanse that was practically ten times the size of his bedroom back in his apartment in Queens. He’d miss the blue lighting that only glowed in the dark, reminding the boy of his father’s arc reactor. He’d miss the window that doubled as a small balcony, for the days when Peter needed some fresh air or a quick escape to get to patrolling. It felt wrong to lay there, for the first time ever, Peter felt like an outsider in a place that he had considered home. The last thing to occupy his thoughts was that he should start packing to stay back at his apartment, and then he drifted asleep.

Peter was reluctant to wake up the next morning, wishing he could savor the comfort from his bed just a little bit longer, now knowing that his days here were numbered. His thought process was interrupted when he heard Tony calling him for breakfast. 

So he headed downstairs with another genuine smile, a smile that ached his heart terribly.

The rest of the day, a part of Peter couldn’t help but be on edge, as his thoughts would poke and taunt him for the entirety of his consciousness, reminding him that Tony already had a kid, and that kid wasn’t him. Peter felt like a fool for thinking that he was. He just didn’t know that he was Tony’s kid. 

And whenever his anxiety spiked up, the teenager was quieter than usual. And as much as it hurt, Peter was glad that Tony didn’t notice. The last thing Peter wanted was for Tony to think he was jealous and get angry. That makes parting three thousand times harder, as it would purposefully be Peter’s fault. Why was it that every time he got a father figure for some time, something had to happen? 

And those were the thoughts that kept Peter up that night as he tossed and turned in bed, utterly exhausted, but alas, unable to get a wink of sleep. His anxiety spiraled tenfold at the idea of the teenager not getting any sleep, and the next thing Peter knew, he was sitting on his balcony in the summer heat. 

The balcony had been one of Peter’s favorite parts about the tower, having a little place to go whenever he needed a well-timed breather, just like tonight. His body was slumped against the outer wall of the balcony as his eyes fluttered shut. He sucked in a sharp breath, once, twice, trying to restabilize his breathing. But the more he looked at the peaceful skyline, the more he was reminded that this was his last time at the Tower. 

The teenager was unaware that tears were silently racing each other off Peter’s face. He’s just as unaware of his shaking form as a stronger arm slipped around him, pressing him to the stronger man’s chest. And just like that, everything within Peter crumbles. 

He’s sobbing and he doesn’t even know why but all he wants is for Tony to hold him and love him like he did hundreds of nights before. But now it’s different, so goddamn different. 

Tony pulled Peter onto his lap, guiding the teenager’s weary head into the crook of his neck, rubbing and whispering soft reassurances until the boy’s cries began to lessen up. When that happens, the older man inquired softly, “FRIDAY said that you were out here, what’s your headspace?” 

That was a term that the two had come up with after a similar instance of Tony finding Peter sitting alone on the balcony. Peter had told his father-figure that it cleared up all the dizzy space in his head, hence the term headspace. 

“Sometimes,” Peter breathed out, moving his hands to rub at his red-rimmed eyes, “the worst place you can be is your head.” Peter finds the thoughts churning together, spilling into coherent sentences that only work best whenever he’s with Tony, “Because it makes you doubt yourself and the anxiety always gets worse.” He sighed as anxiety bubbled within him, “And I know I’m your kid, but I’m not your kid, cause you’re going to have a kid. But at the same time I thought I was your kid, y’know?” 

Peter sat with bated breath, mentally cringing. He said it. He hoped Tony would understand the mess of his head and words. Let’s face it if Tony, the best genius and mechanic who fixed anything and everything couldn’t understand him, then who would? Or what if Tony got upset about Peter’s take on not being his kid and having a real one? 

Thanking the lucky stars, Tony wore a loose smile as he pulled Peter closer to his side, “Yeah kiddo, I get it. But let me tell you a little secret, you’re my kid. You always were my kid. You and the little nugget coming are both my kids, kids who I’d fight to hell and back to protect. Do you hear me? You’re my first kiddo, and I love you so goddamn much. You got it?” The father chuckled, “Besides kiddo, who said that only blood could bond? Look at me and Rhodey, he’s my brother from another mother, alright?”

Peter nodded, waterily thanking tony as he’s smushed between his father’s hold. 

Tony reassured, “Kiddo, it’s nothing. It’s my job as a father to make sure you’re okay. It’s okay to feel kiddo, as long as we pick ourselves up again. Now, how about I pick you up back to bed, and in the morning, we can come up with some names for the nugget hmm?” 

Peter nodded, wiping a final stray tear, “Yeah, that’d be great.” 

 a/n: hope y'all are enjoying these updates gang gang