"What's an oncologist?" He didn't think he'd heard the word until just a minute earlier. Maybe at school, but if that were the case, he'd forgotten it a long time ago.
Tony gripped Steve's arm, trying to ignore the way his heart started beating fast...
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"Daddy?" Peter nervously pulled on his small, chubby fingers. It was the middle of the night, and he had just woken up. "D-daddy?" he attempted again.
"Would you like me to wake your dad up?" the voice from the ceiling asked him. Tony had added to JARVIS' coding to have him speak differently to Peter. More child-friendly and less sarcastic.
"Yes, please," four-year-old Peter said with a sniff. He hated waking up when it was still so dark. It only took a minute before he could hear his dad's footsteps out in the hallway. The sound of the door opening made him calmer.
"Hey, buddy," Tony smiled, sitting down on the bed. "Can't sleep, huh?" The boy just looked up at him with big eyes, melting Tony's heart. "Wanna come sleep in my bed?" he asked and received an urgent nod. "Alright, sweetie," he chuckled and picked Peter up. With his small arms, he clung to Tony as he carried him to the bedroom and didn't let go until he was in the bigger bed.
Tony laid down next to him, tucking the duvet around them both. The little boy scooted as close to his dad as absolutely possible, one hand holding onto his shirt. And Tony found it absolutely endearing. Never in his life had he wanted kids but when Peter was thrust into his life a year ago, it all changed in a matter of days. He was so, so hesitant at first but couldn't deny how much his heart swelled with love when he looked at him.
One of the first things he learned about Peter was that playing with his hair made him tired. That soon became second nature to him; play with his kid's hair when he couldn't sleep. And whenever else he got the chance really, because how could you not want to run your fingers through those curls.
It only took a couple of minutes for Peter to fall back asleep and Tony took his opportunity to just look at him. His little boy. He really was the light of his life. Before him, nothing had ever mattered as much.
Tony had been nothing short of terrified that he'd take after his own father, but was proved wrong after just two weeks with Peter. He'd been in meetings all day, leaving Peter with a babysitter. When he returned to the penthouse, Peter had sprinted towards him, screaming "daddy!" as he flung himself at him.
He held the boy a little tighter, never wanting to let him go. They could just stay there forever, and Tony would be more than happy. His kid looked so calm and he felt so... like he wasn't supposed to be anywhere else.
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2009 was the worst year ever. Peter was sure of it. His dad had been gone since February. Now it was almost May. He'd thought of all the things that could have possibly happened to his dad that an eight-year-old could think up; the grown-ups would only tell him so much. In turn, those thoughts had caused many a nightmare. Peter often woke up feeling terrified, sometimes with tears on his cheeks, sometimes not.
