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Aug. 21st, 2017
via http://ift.tt/2wuzDdk:
mamalaz:
Peggy Carter is Tony Stark’s godmother AU
When she wasn’t telling her godson bedtime stories about Captain America, she was pulling him out of his depression when his parents were killed. Either way, Tony Stark is the son she never had and Peggy is the loving guardian that Tony always deserved.
(this is my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. Also, yes, that is baby RDJ)
(Your picture was not posted)
mamalaz:
Peggy Carter is Tony Stark’s godmother AU
When she wasn’t telling her godson bedtime stories about Captain America, she was pulling him out of his depression when his parents were killed. Either way, Tony Stark is the son she never had and Peggy is the loving guardian that Tony always deserved.
(this is my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. Also, yes, that is baby RDJ)
(Your picture was not posted)
Worst Case Scenario 1/2
Aug. 21st, 2017 01:13 amvia http://ift.tt/2wmOBD8:
For my bingo square titled the same, challenger @snowywinterevenings
Thanks too @arukou-arukou for sounding-boarding.
This has a happy ending, I swear, and no trauma to Peter. :)
“Steve, you’re taking Peter to school today!” Tony called out from the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth and worked it vigorously over his teeth. He didn’t have time for the extensive dental care routine he usually adhered to like a religious conviction. It was going to bug him all day, but he needed even those few precious minutes if he was going to be on time for his meeting.
Steve, looking sleepy and rumpled and oh so unfairly sexy, leaned into the bathroom and blinked slowly at Tony’s reflection. He yawned, curled one hand up to scratch at his side like a monkey, and the other up to grab the top of the door frame… also like a monkey. Tony had been watching way too many cartoons. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had grabbed the frame and dangled from it.
“I thought you were doing that this morning?” he asked at the tail end of his yawn. “I didn’t get home until almost four last night, Tony. I’m tired.”
Tony stamped down on the immediate urge to snap that he was tired too. He hadn’t been in bed much earlier than Steve, and he’d been running around with Peter all night while simultaneously trying to meet a deadline. He spat out the mouthful of toothpaste and swished half a cap of Listerine around, holding up one finger while Steve swayed tiredly.
“I’m sorry, babe, I know you’re tired. But I have got to meet this deadline.” He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. “I am so late already. Please, please with sugar, and kisses, and so on, and so forth.” When Steve made an unhappy mewling sound (Seriously, Captain America he may be, but morning person he was not) Tony said, “We could have Happy do it today. He loves it.”
Loved was maybe a strong word, but as much as Happy blustered and complained that he wasn’t a babysitter, Tony had found more than one unauthorized treat hidden in the car after a school pick up. Steve tilted his head and actually did let his weight hang on his fingertips for a second before straightening up.
“No,” he said with a sigh, “We promised that one of us would do it at least once a week. It’s Friday. But you owe me.”
“Deal,” Tony said immediately, darting forward to kiss Steve’s cheek and then detouring to seal their mouths together. Steve had morning breath, but his body was still loose from sleep, and his lips were soft and plaint under Tony’s. They shared a long kiss, and then Tony reluctantly pulled away. “You,” he said, wagging a finger at Steve’s sleepy smile, “You are the Devil.” He pressed another quick kiss to Steve’s jaw, and then ducked under his arm. “Peter has a field trip today! Don’t forgot!” He called over his shoulder on the way out the door.
(read more)
~*~
Steve yawned again as he brought the car to a stop at the guard tower. There was a line of cars in the school’s driveway, waiting to get in, and an even longer line curving through the parking lot to get out. The school staggered start-times so that not every parent or bodyguard was trying to get through the front doors at the same time, but one-third of the parents and bodyguards was still too much. He rolled the window down and smiled up at the guard, who nodded at him respectively when Steve handed over his ID.
He’d been against it, initially, when Tony had wanted to put Peter at a private school. They’d argued about it off and on from the day Peter had been put into their arms, until the first time they’d had a kidnapping scare. Steve had wanted Peter to grow up with as much of a normal life as possible, and had felt that the greater diversity at a public school would help him do that. Tony had wanted an AI in an Iron Man suit to follow Peter around day and night. After Peter had gone missing for a terrifying twenty minutes at a park one day, even though he’d just wandered off to play with some kids in their front yard, they’d compromised. Peter would go to a private school that catered to children at a high risk for kidnapping, and Tony wouldn’t implant a tracking chip in his hip.
The guard returned with his ID. The long verification process was a pain on sleepy mornings, but Steve appreciated the thoroughness of it. The guard gave Steve one more long look, and then said, “Thank you, Captain Rogers. Have a nice day.”
Once he’d determined that Steve wasn’t a threat, he smiled. He had a nice smile that changed his whole face around, and put him somewhere in the realm of ‘boyishly charming.’ Steve smiled back at him and eased through the gates. He plotted the best way of telling Tony that Peter’s school had a very attractive gate guard, just to watch him pout about it. Fitting punishment for getting Steve out of bed at 6:30 when he’d been planning to sleep until 9:00 at least.
“Okay, little spiderling, you have everything?” Steve asked, putting the car in park and twisting in the seat to look back at Peter.
Very solemnly, Peter checked all of his pockets one at a time, pulled up his sleeve to make sure his watch was on his wrist and then twisted the ring for several seconds to switch the background picture. A breath before Steve was at the “C’mon, buddy, hurry up,” stage, Peter opened his backpack and checked through his school supplies. Steve watched him somewhere between tired frustration, adoration, and amusement. After all, he’d been the one to ask if Peter had everything.
“Do you have my permission slip, daddy?” Peter asked finally.
Steve’s heart lurched, for a moment not remembering if he’d grabbed it off the fridge or not, but then remembered that he’d had to go back for it. He took off his seatbelt and lifted his hips so he could get it out of his back pocket. He handed it over, and Peter fussed with it for several seconds, smoothing out all the wrinkles with a frown on his face, before sliding it into his pack.
“Okay,” he announced. “I’m ready.” He took off his seatbelt and leaned forward to throw his tiny arms around Steve’s neck.
Steve melted. All the irritation and tiredness vanished, and he wanted to just pull Peter up into his lap and not let him go. They could play hooky for one day. Peter was already way ahead of everyone in his class and Tony was bucking to have him skip a few grades in a couple years. One day wouldn’t hurt.
“You wanna just hang out with daddy today and ditch school?” Steve asked, leaning back just enough to see Peter’s face.
Looking positively scandalized, Peter said, “Dad! I have a field trip.”
Laughing, Steve dismissed the pang of grief. He was already getting “dad” intermittently, and he wanted to hang onto “daddy” for a little longer. “Okay, Spidermonkey. Have fun at the aquarium and take lots of pictures.”
“I will!” Peter promised, and as fussy and exacting as he’d been about getting ready to leave the car, he jumped out like any other excited young boy, slammed the door behind him, and ran up the stairs.
Steve waited until Peter made it to the front of the stairs where his teacher was waiting for him with his other classmates. He turned around to wave excitedly, his Black Widow backpack bouncing on his shoulders. Steve put the car in gear, and then paused. He could always park the car, and just go along on the field trip. What class of six year-olds didn’t want Captain America on their field trip?
“The class that has Captain America as a dad,” Steve muttered. The black sedan behind him beeped the horn, and Steve gave up the notion of stealing a few extra hours with his son. He waved out the window apologetically and took his foot off the break. The car rolled forward, and he got in line for the exit.
~*~
Tony was in the middle of his presentation, when his phone started to ring. A startled silence fell, and then a chuckle went around the room. Tony offered them all a brilliant smile, passed the stylus off to his lead engineer, and said, “Alas, a superhero’s work waits for no meeting.”
That netted him another general laugh, although Millers looked like he’d bitten into a rotten lemon. Michael took over the presentation seamlessly while Tony rushed out of the room without looking like he was trying to rush out of the room. The only time his phone went off in a meeting was Avengers’ business that couldn’t be handled without him, or if Peter’s school called and Friday couldn’t reach Steve.
He answered the phone on the fifth ring, just getting the office door closed behind him as he said, “Tony Stark speaking.”
“Mr. Stark,” a very professional voice in crisis mode greeted. It was the voice Tony heard from first responders, SWAT, and military response teams. “This is Ethan Gonzalez. I’m the Chief of Security at your son’s school.”
“I know who you are,” Tony said tersely. His stomach hit the back of his knees and swung up to smack him on the back of his head. He felt suddenly dizzy and like he’d just hit Mach II without the inertial dampeners on. “What happened?”
“I’m going to need you to remain calm, Mr. Stark,” Gonzalez said, which was absolutely the worst thing to say to a panicking parent. “Peter went missing on his field trip this afternoon. We haven’t been able to reach Captain Rogers yet.”
The stomach swinging sensation intensified into a stomach-centrifuge. For the space of half a dozen heartbeats, Tony’s ears shut down to everything except the sound of his own pulse, his vision went gray, and his head kept helpfully repeating Peter went missing. For those half a dozen heartbeats, Tony wanted to shriek a barrage of questions – chiefly among them “WHERE IS MY SON?!” – but he shut it down hard. This was a crisis. He knew how to handle crises. Demanding answers that Gonzalez wouldn’t have, or retribution on whoever had fucked up wouldn’t solve the problem.
Once Peter was home safe, that would be a different story.
“Wha –” Tony’s voice cracked. He realized that he was sitting on the floor, clutching his stomach, and made himself take deep breaths. Bruce style breaths. Yoga breaths. Gonzalez waited quietly – at least he wasn’t going to start bombarding Tony was reassurances and excuses while he was trying to cope. “What do you know?” he managed to croak out while he got his head together.
You’re Tony Fucking Stark, he snarled to himself, You know what they know. He got himself to his feet, dropped the phone on the desk and called up his holographic displays with a flick of his wrists. Friday, always listening to his conversations, already had a ping on Peter’s watch (Just because Steve had nixed the not-100%-joking-but-mostly-not-serious idea of a track chip in Peter’s hip didn’t mean Tony didn’t have one in every piece of technology the kid carried). The blue dot showed up at the school, blinking placidly.
“At some point between the petting pool, and the octopus tank, on-site security lost track of Peter. It’s about a twenty-minute window. I’m on my way to the aquarium security office now to go through the footage.”
“His watch is at the school,” Tony broke in, though his other hand was already calling up the security footage – thank some tech-savvy god for clouds – even while he zoomed in on the watch’s location. “Looks like it’s in the parking lot. Has someone looked?”
Gonzalez paused. “Hold for a moment,” he said.
Tony had to putt effort in to not shouting that he was not about to be put on hold, but Gonzalez had already muted the line. He gritted his teeth, and set Friday to looking through the aquarium footage for Peter.
“Call Steve, and keep calling him until he picks up,” he ordered, taking a screenshot of Peter gleefully chasing a baby stingray around the petting pool.
“What’s the emergency?” Steve asked, his voice the same kind of business-professional as Gonzalez’ had been. “I was caught out in traffic, and my phone must have been on silent.”
“Peter’s missing,” Tony said succinctly. Friday must have overridden the volume on Steve’s phone to get the call through. “Security has me on hold. Turn around and get back to the school.”
Steve said nothing for several tense seconds, though Tony could hear the sudden hitch in his breathing. A distant part of him wanted to offer comfort. An even more distant part of him wanted to demand to know where Steve had been while their son was being kidnapped, but his less-distant parts told his terrified hindbrain to shut its illogical self the hell up.
“I’m on my way now,” Steve said finally. His voice shook, but Tony recognized that he was doing exactly what Tony had been doing. Solve crisis first, panic and be angry later. Tony heard his feet hitting the ground as he started running. The stairwell door slammed open and Steve’s footsteps echoed loudly in the stairwell. “What do we know?” he asked.
“Went missing in about a twenty minute window, if I’ve been given accurate information. I’ve got the security footage up now and I’m scanning through it. I’ve got a ping on his watch at the school, so it’s possible he’s actually there and this is all just going to be our reoccurring nightmare for the next ten or fifteen years.”
Steve managed a strangled laugh that was drowned out by the sound of his motorcycle roaring to life. A moment later the tire squealed on the polished garage floor, and then the outside noise cut off entirely. He had the Iron Man inspired helmet on that Tony had given him for a birthday, and he refused to wear except in emergencies. Liked the wind on his face.
“Friday will get the ping on your HUD,” Tony said, just as Gonzalez’ line opened again. “Mr. Gonzalez, I have my husband on the line. What did you find at the school?”
“Peter’s backpack, cellphone, and watch were all found in the cargo compartment under the bus,” he said with no preamble. “Everything is in good condition, and it doesn’t appear that anything has been tampered with.”
Tony gnashed his teeth together. “I think I’m better equipped to determine that than you are,” he said briskly. “My husband will be there in …?”
“Five minutes,” Steve said.
Tony didn’t chastise him for obviously breaking a lot of traffic laws. When they got their happy ending and Peter was on the couch in between them, maybe Tony would tease him about it. He felt a hollow ache in his stomach and guessed that this was not something they were ever going to joke about, no matter how happy of an ending.
“I’ve analyzed the footage, and I’ve found the point where Peter dropped off the camera,” Friday reported. She was intensely protective of Peter, and Tony could tell that she was already overclocking herself to track him down. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to pick him up on street cams yet.”
“Show me,” Tony ordered, ignoring Gonzalez. A window opened over the others, frozen on a zoomed-in image of Peter trotting down the hall at the end of the line. All three of the security guards who had accompanied the children on the field trip, dressed in civilian clothing to blend into the part of chaperone, were toward the front of the line. Two of them were talking, and the third was looking down at one of the other children, apparently answering a question. Tony’s teeth click together so hard that he might be needing a trip to the dentist once all was said and done.
The short clip played. Holding onto the straps of his backpack, Peter watched his feet while he walked, occasionally bouncing from one place to the next as if avoiding invisible obstacles. He stopped abruptly, his head whipping around, and then turned back and stood in front of an open door. His head tipped curiously, and then he looked back to the retreating line of his classmates, hiked his backpack further up his shoulders, and walked through the door.
“Give me a view of that room!” Tony barked.
“Sorry, Boss,” Friday said miserably. “There are no cameras with a view of that door. Probably not a coincident.”
Tony took three breaths through his nose, glaring at the video as if he could will it to be more helpful. “Send the appropriate clip to Gonzalez, and then to Steve once he’s not traveling anymore.”
“Tony,” Steve protested, “If I can handle mission briefs under fire, I can handle –”
“Not Peter,” Tony interrupted.
Steve made a low noise that felt like a whimper, but sounded like a distant scream. He didn’t say anything else, but Friday discreetly put a speedometer up at the top of the screen, the needle pushing up toward 80. Just below it, she showed a green ping of Steve’s location. He would make it to the school under his five minute estimate. Tony gritted his teeth. He couldn’t handle Steve in the hospital and Peter missing at the same time, but he didn’t think Steve was going to slow down. Tony saying anything about it might just make him go faster.
“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Stark,” Gonzalez said diplomatically. He hesitated, and Tony could almost hear him thinking, we’ll take it from here and keep you informed. He stopped before making that supremely bad decision and said, “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to assist.”
“Sure. Same,” Tony gritted out. He slashed his hand through the air, disconnecting the call, and then dropped forward to brace his hands on the desk. He wanted to be in a suit ten minutes ago, tearing through the city by hand, but he knew that he would be more use in the tower as mission control while Steve did the footwork. At least until Tony tracked down Peter’s location, and then the idiots who’d taken him were going to be very, very sorry.
(Your picture was not posted)
For my bingo square titled the same, challenger @snowywinterevenings
Thanks too @arukou-arukou for sounding-boarding.
This has a happy ending, I swear, and no trauma to Peter. :)
“Steve, you’re taking Peter to school today!” Tony called out from the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth and worked it vigorously over his teeth. He didn’t have time for the extensive dental care routine he usually adhered to like a religious conviction. It was going to bug him all day, but he needed even those few precious minutes if he was going to be on time for his meeting.
Steve, looking sleepy and rumpled and oh so unfairly sexy, leaned into the bathroom and blinked slowly at Tony’s reflection. He yawned, curled one hand up to scratch at his side like a monkey, and the other up to grab the top of the door frame… also like a monkey. Tony had been watching way too many cartoons. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had grabbed the frame and dangled from it.
“I thought you were doing that this morning?” he asked at the tail end of his yawn. “I didn’t get home until almost four last night, Tony. I’m tired.”
Tony stamped down on the immediate urge to snap that he was tired too. He hadn’t been in bed much earlier than Steve, and he’d been running around with Peter all night while simultaneously trying to meet a deadline. He spat out the mouthful of toothpaste and swished half a cap of Listerine around, holding up one finger while Steve swayed tiredly.
“I’m sorry, babe, I know you’re tired. But I have got to meet this deadline.” He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. “I am so late already. Please, please with sugar, and kisses, and so on, and so forth.” When Steve made an unhappy mewling sound (Seriously, Captain America he may be, but morning person he was not) Tony said, “We could have Happy do it today. He loves it.”
Loved was maybe a strong word, but as much as Happy blustered and complained that he wasn’t a babysitter, Tony had found more than one unauthorized treat hidden in the car after a school pick up. Steve tilted his head and actually did let his weight hang on his fingertips for a second before straightening up.
“No,” he said with a sigh, “We promised that one of us would do it at least once a week. It’s Friday. But you owe me.”
“Deal,” Tony said immediately, darting forward to kiss Steve’s cheek and then detouring to seal their mouths together. Steve had morning breath, but his body was still loose from sleep, and his lips were soft and plaint under Tony’s. They shared a long kiss, and then Tony reluctantly pulled away. “You,” he said, wagging a finger at Steve’s sleepy smile, “You are the Devil.” He pressed another quick kiss to Steve’s jaw, and then ducked under his arm. “Peter has a field trip today! Don’t forgot!” He called over his shoulder on the way out the door.
(read more)
~*~
Steve yawned again as he brought the car to a stop at the guard tower. There was a line of cars in the school’s driveway, waiting to get in, and an even longer line curving through the parking lot to get out. The school staggered start-times so that not every parent or bodyguard was trying to get through the front doors at the same time, but one-third of the parents and bodyguards was still too much. He rolled the window down and smiled up at the guard, who nodded at him respectively when Steve handed over his ID.
He’d been against it, initially, when Tony had wanted to put Peter at a private school. They’d argued about it off and on from the day Peter had been put into their arms, until the first time they’d had a kidnapping scare. Steve had wanted Peter to grow up with as much of a normal life as possible, and had felt that the greater diversity at a public school would help him do that. Tony had wanted an AI in an Iron Man suit to follow Peter around day and night. After Peter had gone missing for a terrifying twenty minutes at a park one day, even though he’d just wandered off to play with some kids in their front yard, they’d compromised. Peter would go to a private school that catered to children at a high risk for kidnapping, and Tony wouldn’t implant a tracking chip in his hip.
The guard returned with his ID. The long verification process was a pain on sleepy mornings, but Steve appreciated the thoroughness of it. The guard gave Steve one more long look, and then said, “Thank you, Captain Rogers. Have a nice day.”
Once he’d determined that Steve wasn’t a threat, he smiled. He had a nice smile that changed his whole face around, and put him somewhere in the realm of ‘boyishly charming.’ Steve smiled back at him and eased through the gates. He plotted the best way of telling Tony that Peter’s school had a very attractive gate guard, just to watch him pout about it. Fitting punishment for getting Steve out of bed at 6:30 when he’d been planning to sleep until 9:00 at least.
“Okay, little spiderling, you have everything?” Steve asked, putting the car in park and twisting in the seat to look back at Peter.
Very solemnly, Peter checked all of his pockets one at a time, pulled up his sleeve to make sure his watch was on his wrist and then twisted the ring for several seconds to switch the background picture. A breath before Steve was at the “C’mon, buddy, hurry up,” stage, Peter opened his backpack and checked through his school supplies. Steve watched him somewhere between tired frustration, adoration, and amusement. After all, he’d been the one to ask if Peter had everything.
“Do you have my permission slip, daddy?” Peter asked finally.
Steve’s heart lurched, for a moment not remembering if he’d grabbed it off the fridge or not, but then remembered that he’d had to go back for it. He took off his seatbelt and lifted his hips so he could get it out of his back pocket. He handed it over, and Peter fussed with it for several seconds, smoothing out all the wrinkles with a frown on his face, before sliding it into his pack.
“Okay,” he announced. “I’m ready.” He took off his seatbelt and leaned forward to throw his tiny arms around Steve’s neck.
Steve melted. All the irritation and tiredness vanished, and he wanted to just pull Peter up into his lap and not let him go. They could play hooky for one day. Peter was already way ahead of everyone in his class and Tony was bucking to have him skip a few grades in a couple years. One day wouldn’t hurt.
“You wanna just hang out with daddy today and ditch school?” Steve asked, leaning back just enough to see Peter’s face.
Looking positively scandalized, Peter said, “Dad! I have a field trip.”
Laughing, Steve dismissed the pang of grief. He was already getting “dad” intermittently, and he wanted to hang onto “daddy” for a little longer. “Okay, Spidermonkey. Have fun at the aquarium and take lots of pictures.”
“I will!” Peter promised, and as fussy and exacting as he’d been about getting ready to leave the car, he jumped out like any other excited young boy, slammed the door behind him, and ran up the stairs.
Steve waited until Peter made it to the front of the stairs where his teacher was waiting for him with his other classmates. He turned around to wave excitedly, his Black Widow backpack bouncing on his shoulders. Steve put the car in gear, and then paused. He could always park the car, and just go along on the field trip. What class of six year-olds didn’t want Captain America on their field trip?
“The class that has Captain America as a dad,” Steve muttered. The black sedan behind him beeped the horn, and Steve gave up the notion of stealing a few extra hours with his son. He waved out the window apologetically and took his foot off the break. The car rolled forward, and he got in line for the exit.
~*~
Tony was in the middle of his presentation, when his phone started to ring. A startled silence fell, and then a chuckle went around the room. Tony offered them all a brilliant smile, passed the stylus off to his lead engineer, and said, “Alas, a superhero’s work waits for no meeting.”
That netted him another general laugh, although Millers looked like he’d bitten into a rotten lemon. Michael took over the presentation seamlessly while Tony rushed out of the room without looking like he was trying to rush out of the room. The only time his phone went off in a meeting was Avengers’ business that couldn’t be handled without him, or if Peter’s school called and Friday couldn’t reach Steve.
He answered the phone on the fifth ring, just getting the office door closed behind him as he said, “Tony Stark speaking.”
“Mr. Stark,” a very professional voice in crisis mode greeted. It was the voice Tony heard from first responders, SWAT, and military response teams. “This is Ethan Gonzalez. I’m the Chief of Security at your son’s school.”
“I know who you are,” Tony said tersely. His stomach hit the back of his knees and swung up to smack him on the back of his head. He felt suddenly dizzy and like he’d just hit Mach II without the inertial dampeners on. “What happened?”
“I’m going to need you to remain calm, Mr. Stark,” Gonzalez said, which was absolutely the worst thing to say to a panicking parent. “Peter went missing on his field trip this afternoon. We haven’t been able to reach Captain Rogers yet.”
The stomach swinging sensation intensified into a stomach-centrifuge. For the space of half a dozen heartbeats, Tony’s ears shut down to everything except the sound of his own pulse, his vision went gray, and his head kept helpfully repeating Peter went missing. For those half a dozen heartbeats, Tony wanted to shriek a barrage of questions – chiefly among them “WHERE IS MY SON?!” – but he shut it down hard. This was a crisis. He knew how to handle crises. Demanding answers that Gonzalez wouldn’t have, or retribution on whoever had fucked up wouldn’t solve the problem.
Once Peter was home safe, that would be a different story.
“Wha –” Tony’s voice cracked. He realized that he was sitting on the floor, clutching his stomach, and made himself take deep breaths. Bruce style breaths. Yoga breaths. Gonzalez waited quietly – at least he wasn’t going to start bombarding Tony was reassurances and excuses while he was trying to cope. “What do you know?” he managed to croak out while he got his head together.
You’re Tony Fucking Stark, he snarled to himself, You know what they know. He got himself to his feet, dropped the phone on the desk and called up his holographic displays with a flick of his wrists. Friday, always listening to his conversations, already had a ping on Peter’s watch (Just because Steve had nixed the not-100%-joking-but-mostly-not-serious idea of a track chip in Peter’s hip didn’t mean Tony didn’t have one in every piece of technology the kid carried). The blue dot showed up at the school, blinking placidly.
“At some point between the petting pool, and the octopus tank, on-site security lost track of Peter. It’s about a twenty-minute window. I’m on my way to the aquarium security office now to go through the footage.”
“His watch is at the school,” Tony broke in, though his other hand was already calling up the security footage – thank some tech-savvy god for clouds – even while he zoomed in on the watch’s location. “Looks like it’s in the parking lot. Has someone looked?”
Gonzalez paused. “Hold for a moment,” he said.
Tony had to putt effort in to not shouting that he was not about to be put on hold, but Gonzalez had already muted the line. He gritted his teeth, and set Friday to looking through the aquarium footage for Peter.
“Call Steve, and keep calling him until he picks up,” he ordered, taking a screenshot of Peter gleefully chasing a baby stingray around the petting pool.
“What’s the emergency?” Steve asked, his voice the same kind of business-professional as Gonzalez’ had been. “I was caught out in traffic, and my phone must have been on silent.”
“Peter’s missing,” Tony said succinctly. Friday must have overridden the volume on Steve’s phone to get the call through. “Security has me on hold. Turn around and get back to the school.”
Steve said nothing for several tense seconds, though Tony could hear the sudden hitch in his breathing. A distant part of him wanted to offer comfort. An even more distant part of him wanted to demand to know where Steve had been while their son was being kidnapped, but his less-distant parts told his terrified hindbrain to shut its illogical self the hell up.
“I’m on my way now,” Steve said finally. His voice shook, but Tony recognized that he was doing exactly what Tony had been doing. Solve crisis first, panic and be angry later. Tony heard his feet hitting the ground as he started running. The stairwell door slammed open and Steve’s footsteps echoed loudly in the stairwell. “What do we know?” he asked.
“Went missing in about a twenty minute window, if I’ve been given accurate information. I’ve got the security footage up now and I’m scanning through it. I’ve got a ping on his watch at the school, so it’s possible he’s actually there and this is all just going to be our reoccurring nightmare for the next ten or fifteen years.”
Steve managed a strangled laugh that was drowned out by the sound of his motorcycle roaring to life. A moment later the tire squealed on the polished garage floor, and then the outside noise cut off entirely. He had the Iron Man inspired helmet on that Tony had given him for a birthday, and he refused to wear except in emergencies. Liked the wind on his face.
“Friday will get the ping on your HUD,” Tony said, just as Gonzalez’ line opened again. “Mr. Gonzalez, I have my husband on the line. What did you find at the school?”
“Peter’s backpack, cellphone, and watch were all found in the cargo compartment under the bus,” he said with no preamble. “Everything is in good condition, and it doesn’t appear that anything has been tampered with.”
Tony gnashed his teeth together. “I think I’m better equipped to determine that than you are,” he said briskly. “My husband will be there in …?”
“Five minutes,” Steve said.
Tony didn’t chastise him for obviously breaking a lot of traffic laws. When they got their happy ending and Peter was on the couch in between them, maybe Tony would tease him about it. He felt a hollow ache in his stomach and guessed that this was not something they were ever going to joke about, no matter how happy of an ending.
“I’ve analyzed the footage, and I’ve found the point where Peter dropped off the camera,” Friday reported. She was intensely protective of Peter, and Tony could tell that she was already overclocking herself to track him down. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to pick him up on street cams yet.”
“Show me,” Tony ordered, ignoring Gonzalez. A window opened over the others, frozen on a zoomed-in image of Peter trotting down the hall at the end of the line. All three of the security guards who had accompanied the children on the field trip, dressed in civilian clothing to blend into the part of chaperone, were toward the front of the line. Two of them were talking, and the third was looking down at one of the other children, apparently answering a question. Tony’s teeth click together so hard that he might be needing a trip to the dentist once all was said and done.
The short clip played. Holding onto the straps of his backpack, Peter watched his feet while he walked, occasionally bouncing from one place to the next as if avoiding invisible obstacles. He stopped abruptly, his head whipping around, and then turned back and stood in front of an open door. His head tipped curiously, and then he looked back to the retreating line of his classmates, hiked his backpack further up his shoulders, and walked through the door.
“Give me a view of that room!” Tony barked.
“Sorry, Boss,” Friday said miserably. “There are no cameras with a view of that door. Probably not a coincident.”
Tony took three breaths through his nose, glaring at the video as if he could will it to be more helpful. “Send the appropriate clip to Gonzalez, and then to Steve once he’s not traveling anymore.”
“Tony,” Steve protested, “If I can handle mission briefs under fire, I can handle –”
“Not Peter,” Tony interrupted.
Steve made a low noise that felt like a whimper, but sounded like a distant scream. He didn’t say anything else, but Friday discreetly put a speedometer up at the top of the screen, the needle pushing up toward 80. Just below it, she showed a green ping of Steve’s location. He would make it to the school under his five minute estimate. Tony gritted his teeth. He couldn’t handle Steve in the hospital and Peter missing at the same time, but he didn’t think Steve was going to slow down. Tony saying anything about it might just make him go faster.
“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Stark,” Gonzalez said diplomatically. He hesitated, and Tony could almost hear him thinking, we’ll take it from here and keep you informed. He stopped before making that supremely bad decision and said, “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to assist.”
“Sure. Same,” Tony gritted out. He slashed his hand through the air, disconnecting the call, and then dropped forward to brace his hands on the desk. He wanted to be in a suit ten minutes ago, tearing through the city by hand, but he knew that he would be more use in the tower as mission control while Steve did the footwork. At least until Tony tracked down Peter’s location, and then the idiots who’d taken him were going to be very, very sorry.
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wisesnail:
Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man
Prints on my Society6Facebook | Instagram | Twitter
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wisesnail:
Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man
Prints on my Society6Facebook | Instagram | Twitter
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toxicphox:
fucktonofanatomyreferences:
A phenomenal fuck-ton of arm references.
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[From various sources]
Oh my sweet baby jesus
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toxicphox:
fucktonofanatomyreferences:
A phenomenal fuck-ton of arm references.
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[From various sources]
Oh my sweet baby jesus
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Worst Case Scenario 1/2
Aug. 21st, 2017 08:58 pmvia http://ift.tt/2x6y4QX:
lightshadowverisimilitude:
For my bingo square titled the same, challenger @snowywinterevenings
Thanks too @arukou-arukou for sounding-boarding.
This has a happy ending, I swear, and no trauma to Peter. :)
“Steve, you’re taking Peter to school today!” Tony called out from the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth and worked it vigorously over his teeth. He didn’t have time for the extensive dental care routine he usually adhered to like a religious conviction. It was going to bug him all day, but he needed even those few precious minutes if he was going to be on time for his meeting.
Steve, looking sleepy and rumpled and oh so unfairly sexy, leaned into the bathroom and blinked slowly at Tony’s reflection. He yawned, curled one hand up to scratch at his side like a monkey, and the other up to grab the top of the door frame… also like a monkey. Tony had been watching way too many cartoons. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had grabbed the frame and dangled from it.
“I thought you were doing that this morning?” he asked at the tail end of his yawn. “I didn’t get home until almost four last night, Tony. I’m tired.”
Tony stamped down on the immediate urge to snap that he was tired too. He hadn’t been in bed much earlier than Steve, and he’d been running around with Peter all night while simultaneously trying to meet a deadline. He spat out the mouthful of toothpaste and swished half a cap of Listerine around, holding up one finger while Steve swayed tiredly.
“I’m sorry, babe, I know you’re tired. But I have got to meet this deadline.” He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. “I am so late already. Please, please with sugar, and kisses, and so on, and so forth.” When Steve made an unhappy mewling sound (Seriously, Captain America he may be, but morning person he was not) Tony said, “We could have Happy do it today. He loves it.”
Loved was maybe a strong word, but as much as Happy blustered and complained that he wasn’t a babysitter, Tony had found more than one unauthorized treat hidden in the car after a school pick up. Steve tilted his head and actually did let his weight hang on his fingertips for a second before straightening up.
“No,” he said with a sigh, “We promised that one of us would do it at least once a week. It’s Friday. But you owe me.”
“Deal,” Tony said immediately, darting forward to kiss Steve’s cheek and then detouring to seal their mouths together. Steve had morning breath, but his body was still loose from sleep, and his lips were soft and plaint under Tony’s. They shared a long kiss, and then Tony reluctantly pulled away. “You,” he said, wagging a finger at Steve’s sleepy smile, “You are the Devil.” He pressed another quick kiss to Steve’s jaw, and then ducked under his arm. “Peter has a field trip today! Don’t forget!” He called over his shoulder on the way out the door.
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lightshadowverisimilitude:
For my bingo square titled the same, challenger @snowywinterevenings
Thanks too @arukou-arukou for sounding-boarding.
This has a happy ending, I swear, and no trauma to Peter. :)
“Steve, you’re taking Peter to school today!” Tony called out from the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth and worked it vigorously over his teeth. He didn’t have time for the extensive dental care routine he usually adhered to like a religious conviction. It was going to bug him all day, but he needed even those few precious minutes if he was going to be on time for his meeting.
Steve, looking sleepy and rumpled and oh so unfairly sexy, leaned into the bathroom and blinked slowly at Tony’s reflection. He yawned, curled one hand up to scratch at his side like a monkey, and the other up to grab the top of the door frame… also like a monkey. Tony had been watching way too many cartoons. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had grabbed the frame and dangled from it.
“I thought you were doing that this morning?” he asked at the tail end of his yawn. “I didn’t get home until almost four last night, Tony. I’m tired.”
Tony stamped down on the immediate urge to snap that he was tired too. He hadn’t been in bed much earlier than Steve, and he’d been running around with Peter all night while simultaneously trying to meet a deadline. He spat out the mouthful of toothpaste and swished half a cap of Listerine around, holding up one finger while Steve swayed tiredly.
“I’m sorry, babe, I know you’re tired. But I have got to meet this deadline.” He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. “I am so late already. Please, please with sugar, and kisses, and so on, and so forth.” When Steve made an unhappy mewling sound (Seriously, Captain America he may be, but morning person he was not) Tony said, “We could have Happy do it today. He loves it.”
Loved was maybe a strong word, but as much as Happy blustered and complained that he wasn’t a babysitter, Tony had found more than one unauthorized treat hidden in the car after a school pick up. Steve tilted his head and actually did let his weight hang on his fingertips for a second before straightening up.
“No,” he said with a sigh, “We promised that one of us would do it at least once a week. It’s Friday. But you owe me.”
“Deal,” Tony said immediately, darting forward to kiss Steve’s cheek and then detouring to seal their mouths together. Steve had morning breath, but his body was still loose from sleep, and his lips were soft and plaint under Tony’s. They shared a long kiss, and then Tony reluctantly pulled away. “You,” he said, wagging a finger at Steve’s sleepy smile, “You are the Devil.” He pressed another quick kiss to Steve’s jaw, and then ducked under his arm. “Peter has a field trip today! Don’t forget!” He called over his shoulder on the way out the door.
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