A Bird Without Wings (Discontinued)

Until you're home again (and hold me so tight)

After months of waiting, the adoption was finalized.

The day came when Tony could take Peter from the home.

Forever.

Paisley let him in, shutting the door with an apologetic smile. "He's still sleeping. Want some coffee while you wait?"

Tony shook his head, moving to the door. "This is the day, Pais. The day. He can wake up twenty minutes early."

She huffed a laugh, rubbing her eyes. "Okay. Okay, fine."

With that she waved her hand towards the door. "Just don't blame me if he gets upset."

"He won't," Tony said confidently. "Even if he does, I know how to cheer him up."

As it turned out, Peter was awake.

Sitting on his bed, hugging a stuffed bear, and watching the sun rise.

Tony knelt in front of him, signing a quick greeting, then holding his arms out for a hug, which the boy readily supplied.

'You ready?"

Peter nodded eagerly, reaching to grab onto Tony's hand, smile beaming up at him.

Tony picked him up instead.

"Sign here, Mr Stark." The judge nudged one last paper over the desk. "Then he's yours for good."

A quick signature, a closed folder, and it's official.

He's a dad.

(He's only the last person to know that)

Pepper is by his side, holding Peter, who was staring at his knees, forehead wrinkled in thought.

Tony lifted his son's- his son's- chin with a finger, unable to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. 'You're my kid now. Forever.'

His son- he's never going to get tired of saying that- perked up, bouncing in Pepper's lap, hands fumbling through excitement. 'Home?'

Tony nodded, a huge smile on his face. 'Home.'

Apparently it was possible for Peter to be more excited.

His mouth hung open with awe at the size of the building, and his hands pulled eagerly on Tony's pant leg.

Tony glanced down, letting go of Peter's hand so the boy could sign.

'Home? Big.'

He had to laugh at the exaggerated movements.

His kid was adorable.

Tony nodded,  lifted Peter up, carrying him through the doors, and swept his arm out in a wide gesture.

Peter's eyes widened even further at all the people bustling around, and he buried his face in Tony's neck, small arms almost cutting off his air flow.

Not a people person, he remembered.

"C'mon Pep. There's too many people. They make him uncomfortable."

Pepper directed them towards the elevator.

"Hello sir. May I ask who this young man is?"

Tony smiled at the sound of the crisp British accent, glancing up at the ceiling. "This is Peter."

"The young sir himself?"

"Yep. He's officially my son now. Remember that he can't hear you, Jar, so you'll have to talk through anyone close to him."

"Very well, sir. Renovations on the young master's room are completed as of this morning. One door down from your own, as requested."

Tony smiled softly, nudging Peter with a finger.

The boy pulled back, eyes still wide. Clumsily he spelled, "home?"

With a gentle nod, Tony headed for the bedroom.

The door was closed, and he covered Peter's eyes with one hand while nudging the door open.

It was everything he'd wanted for his son, and hopefully everything Peter wanted as well.

With one last deep breath, he pulled his hand away, letting Peter see his room.

If he and thought Peter's eyes were wide before, now they looked like twin moons, glowing with excitement.

Peter grinned hugely, pointing at himself, and speaking raspily. "Mine?"

Tony kissed Peter's forehead, nodded, and lowered the boy to the floor.

With an almost reverent air, Peter wandered the room, small fingers trailing over the twin bed, the small desk and lamp, then the toy bear, on a small shelf.

Each new thing brought a bigger smile to his face, until finally he reached the last thing.

It was a picture of the two of them, asleep on the bed, Peter curled into Tony's side, and Tony's arms wrapped protectively around him.

Instead of smiling, Peter looked between the picture and his adoptive father, lip trembling.

Tony dropped to his knees in front of the small boy, heart dropping, and already signing. "What's wrong bud?"

Peter shook his head slightly, looking back at the picture.

Then, in a tiny voice, the eight year old spoke. "My daddy?"

Tony smiled shakily, reaching out to pull Peter into a tight hug.

"Yeah. Yeah, bud, I'm your dad now."