Chapter Nine

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It's not that Tony isn't trying. Because believe him when he says he is.

He's just not particularly good at trying.

His alcohol stashes are nearing nothing, though he's been forced to keep all of his empty bottles. The last thing he wants is for Steve to find them all in a garbage bag or something. He needs to buy new ones, but they already have a joint bank account and Steve would see the purchases on their bank statements.

Which means, firstly he needs to take out a bunch of cash from their bank accounts, have a good reason as to why, and then wait until both of them are out of the house so he can get rid of his old bottles and replace them with new ones.

A lot of effort that he doesn't really have while he's forcing himself to be sober.

Peter hasn't really noticed, obliviously happy and content like always. He's a whole five-years-old, so it's not surprising that he doesn't understand Tony's current struggles. All he really cares about are dinosaurs and schoolwork and when they do their science nights.

The only thing Tony doesn't want to scratch out in his drunken hazes are the memories of Peter. His pride and joy. The light of his life.

He remembers when Peter was a little baby who would babble and grin toothlessly and squeal in excitement at everything he saw.

He remembers when Peter used to be the clingiest baby in the world, never wanting to be out of his dad's sight.

He remembers all of Peter's firsts. First time he rolled over, first time he sat up, first time he smiles, first time he laughed, his first word, his first steps, his first day of school. He remembers it all.

He doesn't want to forget.

What he wants to forget is everything else. His childhood, Mary's death, his financial struggles, Carol's absence, his parents' death, Rhodey's absence now too.

Too bad he doesn't get to choose.

*

"Daddy?" Peter murmurs, big brown eyes watching in confused worry. "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

He scuffs his little shoes on the floor, backpack slung over his shoulder already.

Fuck.

Steve had a shift early that morning, so Tony promised he'd take over full morning duties to get Peter ready for school. It would've been fine if Tony hadn't taken advantage of Steve's early bedtime and drank himself to blacking out in his garage.

"Peter, baby, Daddy just needed to lie down. I'll make you something for breakfast-"

"The bus is going to be here soon," Peter says, shoulders slumped, and doe eyes filled with his childish innocence.

Tony sits up, pressing a hand over his eyes as the world spins precariously.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I forgot-"

"You always forget," Peter says, obviously trying not to sound too disappointed but his pout gives it away. "You forgot it was your turn to make dinner yesterday and you forgot it was science night last night and you forgot you promised you'd read that story about dinosaurs and you forgot it was your turn to get me ready for school today."

Tony's barely able to hold back the curses that threaten to fall from his open mouth. He rests his pounding head in his palms for a moment, letting himself take a few steadying breaths.

"I promise I'll make it up to you-"

Peter smiles sadly. The exact same expression he's seen Carol do hundreds of times towards him.

I'm Just HumanOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora