I Love You, Man

Father of the Year

"There's nowhere to land," Steve growled. "Stark, just hold position over the roof and I'll jump down." He hurried to the back of the jet with Tony struggling to get into the pilot seat fast enough to hold it in place. "Bring it in as close as you can." His fist slammed against the door control and he stood ready, waiting for it to fully lower and walking out to its edge.

"So, maybe we should call ahead so they let you in?" Natasha called out, bringing her phone to her ear, holding the other closed with her free hand, trying to block the roar of wind filling the cabin.

"I'll just scale the side!" Steve yelled back before he dropped out of sight.

"Father of the year right there, guys," Clint scoffed, reaching out to close the door. "That kid's got no chance at even close to a normal life."

Tony laughed and turned towards the group as he lifted the jet away from the hospital and set a course towards the tower. "Hold on, Barton. At what point, exactly, did you think that was even an option? I can hear it now, 'no, honey, that's your daddy. This one is Chris. That one is Sebastian, this guy is Uncle James. No, that's not Uncle Tony, it's Robert'."

~~~

Chris stood at the doors and lifted the surgical mask to his face, taking a deep breath to steady himself. When the doors to the surgical suite opened, he paused at the cool rush of air hitting his face and the smell of antiseptic and the sterile surroundings. He had never even seen a room like this, so his curiosity was immediately surging, wanting to ask a million questions but reminding himself that now wasn't the time. He saw you being covered on the table at the center of the room with a stool placed near your head; he shook himself to attention for the task at hand and looked to the nearest nurse for her attention.

"Excuse me, is that for me, or where should I go?"

"Yes, Captain, that's for you. Please have a seat."

"No, I'm not-" he began, but she was gone before he could finish. With a small shrug he took his place next to you and leaned in close to your ear, kissing your cheek through the scratchy cloth of his mask. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey, Chris."

"Okay, how do you always know that it's me?"

"Are you being serious right now?" you replied sleepily, beginning to feel the affects of the relaxing medications being pushed into your veins. "You have softer eyes."

He perked up at the admission, smiling beneath his mask with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes beginning to build. He began to wonder what else you might say if asked under the influence of this apparent truth serum they'd given you. Chris felt just a small pang of guilt at what he was thinking about doing, but this may be the only shot he had. He glanced around the room at the doctor and nurses scurrying to their places and preparing to work, deciding that he could get a few minutes of entertainment in before everything started.

"What else is different about me?"

"Your beard is nice. It's really soft."

It was hard for him to stifle his laugh at the change he was seeing in you, but he did his best to maintain his composure when one of the nurses cleared her throat to get his attention. Chris straightened slightly and gave her a nod, doing his best to remain serious long enough for her to look away.

"Anything else you want to tell me before we get started?"

"You have a cute laugh, like a little kid. It makes me laugh too," you yawned quietly. "But Steve has a better butt."

"Wait, what?" he startled, sitting up straight with his mouth hanging open beneath it's cover. "What's wrong with my butt?" The same nurse turned to him again at the raise in his voice, leaning back just slightly to see the butt in question, but silently shaking her head and returning to her work. "Excuse me, you there," he called to her. "I saw that. You think it's nice, right?"