The Only Exception - {TOM HOLLAND}

T W E N T Y O N E

*Six Months Later*

"Look (Y/N)! Look!"

You turn to the seat beside you, watching as Ezra excitedly looks out the plane window. Below, the clouds are breaking, allowing a view into L.A below. It's been a horribly long day of travel, but the end is in sight and you're more than ready to spend the next day recovering in the rental home.

"That is where Daddy is! Are you excited?" You ask, smoothing a hand over the four year old's curls.

Ezra nods, licking at his slightly chapped lips, "Daddy's gonna be Spider-Man and he told me I can see Iron Man!"

"That's right, you get to meet Iron Man, but he won't have his armor this time," you tell the boy.

He shrugs, uncaring, as long as it's Tony Stark he seems to be okay with it. You sit back in your seat, taking a deep breath of the stale plane air, waiting to land. Of course the landing is a little rough for the boy beside you, not liking how shaky it feels.

You hold his hand the whole time and Ezra thanks you when the plane finally pulls to a stop.

"Come on," you say to Ezra when you get the okay to leave, "lets get some food and let's go see Daddy, yeah?"

"Chicken nuggets?" Ezra asks as he hops up from his seat and slings his Peppa Pig backpack on.

You put your own backpack on, thinking it over for a moment, "we'll see. I don't want to get fast food if we don't have to. Will chicken tenders be okay?"

The boy sighs, as if it's the world's hardest sacrifice, "okay."

"I'm sure I can convince Daddy to let you have a kid's soda," you promise and the boy is suddenly on board the chicken tender train.

He grabs your hand, and you thank the flight attendants as you walk past them onto the dock. Ezra skips along side you, and it is the most adorable thing ever. The two of you make it through customs, and it is relatively painless. You have to show the consent forms Tom and you made, since you're legally not his parent, but they clear it and before you know it the two of you are in baggage claim.

It's there when the camera flashes start to pick up. You turn your back to them, hoisting Ezra up into your arms and letting him relax against your hip.

"Why they taking pictures?" Ezra asks shyly into your ear.

You hold him a little tighter, "because Daddy is an actor...and that means that people like photos of you and him."

"And you?"

"...and me," you agree although it's not quite the case.

You spot your luggage, having packed both your and Ezra's clothes in one suit case for easier traveling. Leaning forward you grab the handle, using your one free arm to hoist it off the conveyor belt. Once you have a steady grip on it, you continue to hold Ezra as you drag the luggage behind you.

The boy hides his face in your neck when the paparazzi continues to unabashedly take photos. You do exactly as your told, smile kindly but face forward and go directly to where you need to. The slight anxiety you held melts when you see the rental SUV parked and waiting for the two of you.

The backdoor opens and you watch a familiar figure pop out; all bright eyes and goofy smiles.

"Daddy!" Ezra cheers, reaching to the man while wiggling to get out of your arms.

"Hey bug, come'ere," Tom beams, hoisting his son into his arms, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses, "I missed you."

"Me too," Ezra nods, relaxing into his father's hold.