Pull Us Back

the processing

Tony sat at his desk, sketching out ideas. His head was swimming in self loathing, guilt, and shitty memories. He kept going between new arrows for Clint and a new, healthier binder for Peter. One he could wear for longer without mangling his ribs. It's still not safe to sleep or work out in, mind you, but it's most likely an improvement. Suddenly, the glass of his lab became transparent again, making Tony jump. Steve stormed in and set a plate in front of him.

"Eat."

Tony looked at the pizza then back up at Steve. "You're... mad at me."

"Really? How could you tell?"

"You're not softly scolding me for not eating."

"Yeah. Now, I have to actually scold you for what you did yesterday with Peter!"

"I-"

"Shhh. Shush. There is literally no rational explanations to why you walked out on Peter after he told you what was probably his biggest secret! He's your god damn son, Tony. You're who he needs the most at the moment. He needs to know you accept him, Tony."

"I do!"

"If you do, you shouldn't have just walked out. He's probably freaking terrified that you're gonna kick him out. Bruce has been trying his best to distract him, but he's not his dad. You are. And, honestly, don't even get me started on what you said to poor Clint-"

"He might as well be his dad, considering I'm gonna fuck him over." Tony pushed away from his desk and stood up, going to work on random upgrades for the team.

"you're not!"

"Yes I am! You said it yourself, Rogers, I'm gonna be a failure of a dad just like my own father."

"I was wrong, Tony," Steve persisted, walking up behind Tony. "I was so wrong. You're an amazing father. The way you act around that kid is so caring, it's never anything I've seen from you before. But it's amazing. And you guys are amazing."

"I know nothing about being transgender. I'll fuck it all up."

"That's why you have me, and Bruce, and Clint, and Nat, and the rest of the team to help you. We're all a family here, Tones. You know that."

"They should adopt him! I don't deserve to be that kid's dad."

"You know what, Tony? You're making this all about yourself, when it isn't. All that happened is that Peter came out, a situation where he needs everyone in his support system with him, alright? He didn't even willfully come out, he was outed by a god damn gossip show! And you're acting like you're being personally victimized. News flash, Tony, your life isn't all about you. It's about your son now too."

Tony clutched the table in front of him. "You think I don't know that? I'm- I just need time to process and research and get the facts-"

"No. You need to go the hell upstairs and show your son you still love him. 'Cause if I was him, I'd think you hated me."

Tony paused for a minute. "Why are you always right?"

"I'm not. I'm just right about this." Steve kissed his head gently. "You're lucky I didn't let Clint come down here to have a word with you. He was doing target practice with your eyes."

"Yeah," Tony let out a strangled laugh. "I need to go talk to him."

"Remember. This is about him."

"I know." 

Tony let himself out of his own lab, Steve lingering in there. It's okay, though. Tony trusts him. He slowly climbed the stairs until he hit Peter's door. He knocked gently. "Peter?"

"Go away."

"Peter, please. It's your dad."

Peter opened up the door, hair ruffled up, eyes a bright red. He was obviously not wearing his binder, though it was mostly covered by his baggy sweatshirt. Before Tony could say anything, Peter squeaked out, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, why are you sorry?" Tony touched his shoulder, Peter flinching back.

"F-For being a freak."

"Oh, Pete," Tony sighed. He opened up his arms, Peter falling into his arms. 

"I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry- I-I can't help it, I'm not a girl! I'm sorry- If you want me to leave I'd understand, I'm so sorry, Dad."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, bud, it's okay. I accept you. Wholeheartedly." 

"But- Last night-"

"I was wrong. I was being selfish and only thinking about myself, kiddo. I should have realized that I should have been here for you. I'm sorry, kiddo."

Peter held onto him so hard, Tony could feel his nails digging into his shoulder blades. He stroked his hair gently, shushing him lovingly. 

"You're getting snot all over my sweatshirt, little man."

Peter choked out another sob, this one thankfully mixed with a laugh. "Sorry, Dad."

"It's fine, Pete. I was only kidding- well, you are getting snot all over my shirt, but I'm not angry." Tony laughed, placing his chin on his head.

"So, you don't hate me, dad?"

"Absolutely. You could punch me in the face and cut off Steve's face and I'd still love you."

Peter giggled. "It's a deal."

Tony kissed his forehead. "Oh, shit. It's already ten. It's a school night."

"Hey, dad? Would you mind staying the night with me?"

"I do not mind at all! Let me get ready for bed first, you should too, kiddo."

In less than ten minutes, Peter was curled up in Tony's side, snoring peacefully.

That next morning, Peter found Steve in the kitchen, drinking coffee. As he slipped his Pop Tarts into the toaster, he smiled at Steve. "Thanks for talking to my dad last night."

"No problem, Peter. Sometimes, your dad just needs a little push." 

Peter smiled gently. "Maybe you aren't so bad after all, Captain."