The Devil With The Face of an Angel | Irondad, pepperony

Chapter 74

"What's happening? Are you okay, dude?" Ned asked Peter after school ended and they were at the lockers. His friend had seemed absent-minded these days, but it was extreme today. He was afraid something terrible had happened, but he didn't want to push him to tell him, but now he couldn't stand it anymore.

"No, I'm not okay," Peter replied honestly, which surprised Ned, even though he expected it. But Peter was always a man who was vague about his troubles, trying to pretend that nothing was happening so as not to burden others. "I'm not feeling well in recent days and... I don't know, I have a very strange feeling. An unpleasant feeling that something is going to happen. I can't help myself," he admitted mutedly, constantly looking over his shoulder. Ned clearly felt his restlessness.

"Can I help you somehow?"

"Please don't tell anyone. I feel that my abilities are weakening and I am also worried about my mom. Damn, there's definitely something going on. Ned, I want to meet her and settle it, but I'm scared. I'm not sure if that's a really good idea. What should I do?" he asked with a plea in his eyes. Ned blinked a few times. Sure, they kept helping each other, but this was really serious.

"You should meet her, you need her. I see that it bothers you," Ned persuaded him. Peter exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. Sweat dripped from his forehead. "The feeling that something is happening - do you feel it because of your sixth sense?"

"I don't know, this is just such an instinct. Like - I don't know, it is difficult to explain. Like when you are defenseless prey and feel the beast looking at you from afar and waiting for the right moment to attack," Peter explained, and Ned swallowed.

"Damn! Peter, you don't think anyone's after you, do you?"

"No, I am not," he muttered, but he didn't sound very sure. When they left school, he looked around the parking lot quickly for Mary waiting somewhere. He didn't reply to her for about three days and didn't want to see her. They've been meeting a lot lately, and that's definitely enough for him. "Look, thanks for the help, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow!" he said goodbye to Ned and ran to the black car where Tony was waiting for him.

"Hi. We're going home, aren't we?" he asked as he opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat. He tossed his backpack, quickly buckled up, and looked at him in confusion when he realized that Tony hadn't even started yet. His father watched him with raised eyebrows. "Uhm, Dad?"

"What's happening? You look upset," he told him, examining him as if he were under an X-ray. Peter shifted nervously.

"I'm fine, I just need to go home. I want to lie down." That was true.

"You're sick again, aren't you?" Tony sighed and Peter rubbed his temples.

"Yeah, fine, maybe a little. Can we go now, please?"

Without a word, Tony started the engine and left the parking lot. Peter's ears rang, but he tried to distract himself, so he stared out the window and counted the cars. He always ended up at number ten, because his thoughts began to run in different directions.

"I was thinking-"

"Dad, I'm not going to any other doctor. If Bruce can't- "

"No, I don't mean that," Tony interrupted, gaining Peter's attention. "I was thinking about what you told me about your mom. That you felt like she wasn't feeling well. I went to check on her."

"AND? Was she okay?"

"I was wondering if it wouldn't be better for you to check it yourself," Tony said, avoiding a clear answer. It was up to Pepper to tell him she was expecting a baby. And he didn't want to burden Peter himself. There was a lot, Tony knew the pain of finding out you had lost a child and there was nothing you could do to prevent it. He could feel it himself, and he didn't want to know how much it must hurt Pepper. "What do you think? You told me that you wanted to meet sometimes. So why not now? Of course, not today, but sometime soon when you feel better."

"I've been thinking about that, too," Peter nodded thoughtfully, and Tony lowered his eyes from the road for a moment, looking at his son. He was pleasantly surprised. "I guess you're right, I should meet her. I tried to suppress it all and forget about it, but it didn't work. And the harder I tried, the worse it got. It's Pepper. I need her."

"Yeah," Tony agreed with a smile, "it's Pepper. She can't be forgotten, even if you want to."

•••

"Don't panic."

"What? No, I'm fine, I'm not panicking at all," Peter defended hurriedly. He looked in the mirror and adjusted his tousled hair, straightened his collar, smoothed his shirt and pants over and over. Then he reached into his pocket. "I don't have a wallet. I forgot my wallet!"

"Calm down, you have it along with the phone in your back pocket," Natasha replied perfectly calmly. Peter exhaled and patted his cheeks several times.

"You need to calm down," he whispered to his reflection.

"Peter, look at me." He listened and fixed his frightened puppy eyes on her. "It's just dinner. Dinner with Pepper, who adores you, and which you adore. It's completely fine, is it?"

"Sure. It's seven," he glanced at his watch. "Damn. I have to go. Tulips. Damn! Nat, we forgot the tulips!"

"Technically, you forgot, I didn't. They're in the back seat," Natasha replied, smiling. Peter reached for them. "You're panicking just like your father. Enjoy it, honey."

"Thanks, Nat," Peter muttered, taking a deep breath, then got out of the car. Pepper must have been there waiting for him.

He opened the door and went inside. He got a look at the crowded tables and searched Pepper among all the women. Finally. She sat there, by the window, constantly checking her phone and drumming her fingers on the table. He walked over to her, reminding himself that he must not forget to breathe.

Pepper saw him. Her eyes widened, her lips moved slightly as she spoke his name. Peter felt a smile form on his face. Pepper jumped to her feet, Peter hurried to meet her, and in a moment they held each other in an embrace, trying not to cry, the tulips had almost been harmed.

"Peter..."

"Mom..."

At that brief moment, no more words were needed.