Chapter Text
Before.
Peter was both excited and nervous. Excited because he got a bonus day in the lab, and nervous because he didn't know why Tony invited Peter to the lab on such short notice.
“Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter dropped his bag off. “What's on the agenda today?”
Tony flashed him a small smile. “Hey, Pete, take a seat for a second.”
Peter nervously sat in the chair as directed. “Um, is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no. Nothing bad, at least I hope it's not bad.”
That wasn't comforting. “Um. Okay?”
Tony took a breath. “I've been meaning to say this for a while.”
Peter nodded at him.
“I uh. You know- you're, well, you and I-”
Tony's heart rate had already been elevated when he arrived, but now it was pounding. There was no way the man hadn't noticed.
“Mr. Stark, I hate to interrupt but are you feeling okay?”
Tony froze. “I- no. I'm fine.”
“Are you sure? Because your heart is going crazy,” Peter worried, “do you need to go lay down?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Kid, I’m fine.”
Peter pressed his lips together. “If you’re sure.”
Tony considered him for a moment before sighing. “Let’s just get to work, kid.”
Peter frowned.
“That is if you’re going to be able to concentrate?” Tony raised a brow at him.
“Mr. Stark, I’m always concentrating in the lab!”
Tony snorted at him, ruffling his hair before turning to his worktable. “I’m pretty sure you spent most of our last session talking about your next field trip.”
“I can’t help it!” Peter grinned. “We’re going to MoMA! Isn’t that exciting?”
“Whatever makes you happy, kiddo.”
“It does,” Peter insisted, “or it well, since I haven’t been yet.”
“Aren’t kids your age supposed to find museums boring?”
“But, Mr. Stark, that’s why I’m looking forward to it! It’s interesting but also very boring. We’ll go in and look at art, simple and easy. My last few field trips have been…less than stellar, but I’ve got high hopes for this one!”
“Yeah?”
“I think this will be the one, Mr. Stark. My first good and safe field trip. I can feel it.”
Tony smiled at him with an odd expression. “I hope so, kid.”
.
After.
Waking up was a mistake, Peter decided.
Contrary to popular belief, the spider bite didn’t prevent him from getting sick. It only sped up the whole process— it hit him fast and hard for a day or two, and then he’d be fine.
Peter was sick and everything hurt. His clothes scratched his skin as he shifted, and his eyes ached as he looked around the room. He felt cold and sweaty, and just overall sore.
Peter hated being sick.
Peter sniffled and heaved himself up. It was still dark in his room and the blinking red numbers on his alarm clock confirmed Peter’s suspicions that it was early morning.
After pulling on his softest sweater, which was still too scratchy, Peter left the room with two goals in mind: something to eat and medicine.
The fridge was cold as he rummaged through it, he eyed the plate of food with his name on it for a second before the churning in his stomach advised against it. Instead, Peter grabbed a cup of chocolate pudding.
Not his first choice, but it would do for now. Peter wasn’t all that hungry, he just needed something so he could take his medicine and go back to sleep.
“Peter?” Tony’s voice was too clear for him to have been asleep. “What’re you doing awake?”
Peter slowly dragged his eyes to look at Tony.
Tony eyed the half-full pudding cup. “Did your sugar drop?”
“No,” Peter croaked before dissolving into a coughing fit.
“Shit, Pete, are you alright?” Tony was at his side in an instant.
Peter waved him off, removing his face from his elbow when he was able to catch his breath. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look or sound fine, buddy,” Tony said as he pressed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead and cheeks. “You feel a little warm.”
“I think I caught a bug,” Peter sniffled and shoved another bite of pudding into his mouth, “I’ll be fine tomorrow, though. Hopefully.”
“I hope so,” Tony muttered, before looking back to the pudding. “Were you hungry? You know we made you a plate, I can go heat it up if you want?”
Peter’s head pounded as he shook his head. “Just need to eat so I can take something.”
Tony frowned. “You need-”
“I can’t,” Peter interrupted, “I’m barely tolerating this.”
Tony didn’t look too happy. “Okay, we can try again later. I’ll make something light on the stomach.” Tony slid into the seat next to him.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked, spoon halfway to his mouth.
Tony raised a brow. “I’m sitting in my kitchen, is that not allowed?”
“I’m sick,” Peter reminded, “the gross kind.”
“I know, that’s why I’m here.”
Peter covered another cough with his elbow. “Okay, but if you get sick it’s your fault. Not mine.”
Tony shrugged. “I know what I’m signing up for.”
Peter was exhausted enough to let it go. “Can I have some medicine now?” Most of a pudding cup should be sufficient.
“Of course, kid.” Tony pressed a kiss to his hair before grabbing the medicine from the top shelf of the locked cabinet. Tony was even nice enough to pour him a glass of water. “Would you like some tea for your throat?”
Peter barely resisted the urge to grimace. “No, thanks. I think I'll just…head to bed.”
Tony’s face did…something, but Peter was too tired to decipher what. “Alright, buddy, want some help?”
“With what?” Peter grunted as he stood from the chair; the muscles in his back protesting at the strain. “I don’t need help.”
Peter didn’t have to look at Tony’s face to know the man was judging him. He pointed a finger at the man, “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Hear what?” Tony asked. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to,” Peter complained.
“No, I wasn’t!”
“Yes, you were. I know you too well.” Peter threw his spoon in the sink. “I’ll wash that later. Or blame it on you. One of those.”
“Wow. Just wow, Pete, I see how it is,” Tony’s voice lacked any real heat.
Peter sniffled and began the trek back to his room. For some reason, Tony followed him.
“What’re you doing?” Peter asked, climbing into the bed.
“I’m tucking you in,” Tony answered, “obviously.”
“Why?” Peter watched as Tony fussed with the blankets.
“You’re curious tonight,” Tony deflected.
The way Tony’s hands shook didn’t escape Peter’s notice. “Tony,” Peter waited until Tony looked him in the eye, “I’m fine.”
“I know. Of course, you are.”
“It’s probably just a virus.” Peter squeezed Tony’s hands. “Get some sleep, Tony. You get paranoid when you’re sleep-deprived.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Little shit.”
Peter smiled at him. “Goodnight, Tony.” He was too tired to wait for the man to leave his room to let his eyes close.
After a minute, “Goodnight, Peter.”
.
The next time Peter woke up, it was still dark and Peter felt relatively the same— except this time he was sweaty.
Peter groaned as he flung the blanket off of him. “Gross.” Out of curiosity, his eyes darted to the alarm clock and realized he’d only been out for a little over two hours.
At least he’d managed to break his fever— hopefully, it would stay gone.
When Peter found the strength, he forced himself out of bed and to his dresser to grab some clean clothes.
“I hate being sick,” Peter grumbled as he stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom.
A quick shower later, Peter was feeling slightly better. The warm water helped loosen the muscles in his neck and back, and the feeling of no longer being covered in sweat was always good.
The second the bathroom door opened— “Peter?”
Peter jerked back with a gasp before realizing. “Tony!” He whisper-yelled, careful not to wake anyone else.
“Sorry, kid,” Tony apologized, still sounding too awake, “didn’t mean to startle you.”
Peter brushed past him to throw his clothes into his room. “Have you not been to sleep yet?”
“Not yet,” Tony admitted with a sigh. “But not for lack of trying.”
“Oh. Bad night?” Peter stared at his bed.
Tony made a noncommittal noise. Then, “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah.” Peter’s voice sounded faint to his own ears. “I, uh, don’t really want to go to bed just yet.”
“Well, why don’t you keep me company on the couch?” Tony suggested.
“Do you want to get sick?” Peter questioned.
Tony shrugged. “It’s a sacrifice I am willing to make. Besides, I need to start preparing for when Morgan starts school and brings home every disease under the sun.”
Peter’s laugh quickly turned into a coughing fit. Belatedly, he realized Tony had an arm around him to steady him.
“No more laughing for you,” Tony said when Peter settled enough to hear him.
Peter leaned into him as he caught his breath. “You can’t enforce that rule.”
“I totally can.”
“But you won’t.” Peter stumbled away to grab a pillow from his bed, holding it in one arm and offering the other to Tony.
“I don’t know, I might have to.” Tony took the offered arm and began leading the way to the couch.
Peter wasted no time in swiping one of the blankets from the back of the couch and wrapping it around himself. Initially, his plan had been to curl up on the opposite end of the couch. That plan had gone out the window when Tony opened his arms— and then the plan was to curl as close to Tony as possible.
“I apologize in advance if I cough or sneeze on you.” Peter sniffled.
Tony just laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yeah, but it’s one thing if a baby does it and another if a grown man-”
Tony’s had to bury his face into Peter’s hair to muffle his laugh. “You’re not there yet.”
“I never will be according to you and May.”
Tony’s smile dimmed for a second. “You’re right, you’ll always be our baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” Peter grumbled.
Tony kissed his head. “Sure.”
“Just put on a documentary.”
Tony sighed.
“They’re interesting!” Peter defended.
“They’re boring.”
.
Within seconds of the documentary being on, Peter realized he wasn’t going to be able to really watch it. The screen was only aggravating his already strained eyes. So, it wasn’t a surprise that halfway through the documentary, Peter was beginning to doze.
Not really asleep but also not fully awake— so, when Tony’s breath stuttered, he caught it. “What’re you thinking about?” Peter asked, not bothering to open his eyes.
Tony scrubbed his face with his freehand. “Don’t worry about it, kid.”
“Hmmm, I’m gonna worry about it. I’m worried.”
“It’s really nothing, just- overthinking, as usual.”
“How come only I have to talk about what’s bothering me? You said talking about these things helps.”
“You’re sick, Peter,” Tony deflected, “you need to rest.”
“I am sick and I am resting,” Peter pointed out. “You’re the one not resting.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
Tony grumbled some things under his breath.
“I’m gonna start guessing.”
“No, don’t start guessing.”
“Does it have anything to do with me?” Peter guessed.
Tony sighed. “It’s about what happened earlier, with your laptop.”
“Oh. What about it? Can you not fix it? It’s okay if you can’t. I’ve got everything backed up, so it’ll be annoying but not that serious.”
“No, I can fix it. It’s just- how could I have let that happen?”
Peter pulled away to give him a look. “Tony, you weren’t even in the house? What do you mean: let it happen?”
“I should have anticipated it or something.”
“Tony, you’re not a psychic. You couldn’t have known that she was going to do that— especially since it was an accident.”
“Still,” Tony insisted, “I should have, I don’t know, done more.”
Peter sighed. He wasn’t going to win this one. “She reminds me of you,” Peter admitted.
Tony blinked. “Huh?”
“Do you remember when you dropped my camera?” Peter asked.
“Only when I’m trying to sleep at night,” Tony muttered.
Peter’s laugh was closer to a wheeze. “You remember what you said?”
“Vaguely. I was kind of panicking.”
“You said that you could fix it,” Peter smiled and picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of Tony’s shirt, “she said the same thing.”
Tony sniffed. “I still don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why you stuck around me after everything I’d done, all the shit I’d pulled— and yet, you were still there. Why?”
Peter shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”
“But why?”
Peter shook his head. “There’s no one reason why I stuck around, Tony, it doesn’t work that.” He cleared his throat. “I could say it was because you were good, but I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Not really. I could say it’s because you cared but even if you didn’t, even if tomorrow you threw me out and told me to never come back, I’d still care.”
Tony was quiet for a moment. “If I ever say something like that, kill me because that’s not me.”
“I know you’d never say that, but it was a hypothetical to prove a point.”
Tony blinked a few times. “Yeah, I hear you, kid. I don’t understand, but I hear you.”
Peter leaned against Tony. “You don’t have to understand; it’s not for you to understand.”
Tony wrapped both arms around him, pulling him close. “How’d we get on this topic, again?”
Peter let himself get dragged closer. “I think we were talking about Morgan and how much she’s like you.”
Tony winced.
“I mean- come on. This whole situation has you written all over it. Telling her not to touch something only for her to do it anyway?”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know I’m right.” Peter leaned his head back to grin at him.
“Yeah.” Tony brushed his hair out of his forehead, and he looked so fond and-
“I like it when you look at me like that.”
Tony raised a brow. “Like what?”
Peter could blame it on a multitude of things— being sick, the fever making him delirious, the medicine he’d taken.
“Like you love me,” Peter admitted.
Tony just smiled wider. “I do.”
“I- huh? You what?”
Tony looked a little confused. “I love you?”
Peter blinked at him.
“Have I- have I never said that?” Tony asked, beginning to sound a bit worried.
“I- no?” Peter shook his head. “I mean- I knew you cared, I just didn’t think you…”
“I- no! I was just talking about how lucky I was to have kids as good as you and Morgan!”
“When?” Peter didn’t remember that conversation.
“We’d been talking about colleges, remember?” Tony seemed frantic.
“Oh.” Peter didn’t know what to think. “That must’ve been what I missed. Morgan yelled my name and so I tuned out for a second and- sorry.”
“I can’t believe this,” Tony muttered, “I really never told you?”
Peter shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. It’s-” Tony shook his head and grabbed Peter’s face with both his hands. “Peter, I love you and you’re my kid. I love you as much as I love Morgan, you’re the two most important people to me, okay? Got that?”
Peter nodded as best he could with his face still in Tony’s hands.
“And Pepper loves you too, okay? Everyone does. Rhodey and Happy already consider you as their nephew.”
Peter sniffled.
“And I’m sorry if my poor communication skills have ever made you doubt your place in our family.”
Peter shook his head. “Never. I mean- I definitely feel a little less stupid for hoping that you meant it when you said I was Morgan’s brother.”
Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead, then paused and pressed another one longer than the last.
“Um?”
“You feel warm. Sorry to interrupt our heartfelt conversation but-”
Peter sighed. “I think my fever came back.”
“I’ll go get you some medicine. Maybe some tea, this time?” Tony asked as he stood from the couch.
“Maybe coffee?” Peter tried.
“For me? Yeah. You? No. You need to rest and caffeine isn’t going to help that.”
“The warm drink will soothe my throat.”
“Hence my suggestion of tea.”
“But I don’t like tea. And tea also has caffeine.”
Tony didn’t budge. “Not as much as coffee.”
“Then make decaf coffee!”
“What kind of freak do you take me for?! We don’t have decaf coffee.”
“Yeah, you do. Pepper bought some for me.”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “I thought it was odd she was suddenly okay with coffee at six pm.”
Peter followed him into the kitchen. “So, it’s a yes for the decaf?”
Tony heaved a sigh. “Fine.”
.
It wasn’t long after Peter finished his coffee that he felt himself drifting off again. “I need to go to bed.”
Tony didn’t comment on it.
“Tony?”
Peter got his answer in the form of a snore. And, well, it’d be such a shame to bother him after he finally got to sleep.
Peter settled back against Tony, slightly shifting so that it was more comfortable for both of them. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
-
“Morgan, honey, leave them alone,” Pepper said in a voice close to a whisper.
“Daddy’s being greedy!”
Peter groaned as he sat up. He felt a little less like shit, but his head was still pounding. “How’s Daddy being greedy?” He carefully extracted himself from Tony’s grip.
Morgan sniffled and grabbed onto him. “Daddy already has two brothers, but I only have one! You! And he’s trying to steal you!”
Peter ruffled her hair.
Pepper sighed and shot Peter an apologetic look. “Morgan, sweetie, your dad isn’t trying to steal Peter.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Peter hefted her into his arms and relocated them into the kitchen. He doubted Morgan was going to let Tony sleep for much longer, but at least he could say he tried.
“Morgan,” Pepper started, “Peter is your brother.”
Peter nodded, setting her in the chair before checking the coffee pot.
Morgan hummed and even with his back turned, he knew fer brows were furrowed and lips pressed together.
“So, Daddy doesn’t want Peter to be his brother?”
“No, Morgie.” Peter poured himself a cup. Maybe the caffeine would help his head.
“Peter is his kid, Morgan, just like you are,” Pepper explained.
Morgan’s eyes were still narrowed as if she was still contemplating something. “So, then, why does Peter call Daddy ‘Tony’?”
“Peter can call me whatever he feels comfortable calling me,” Tony croaked as he shuffled into the kitchen.
Morgan nodded, accepting it. “Can I call you Tony?”
Without missing a beat, “No.”
“Not fair!” Morgan cried. “Unjustice!”
“Injustice, sweetheart,” Pepper corrected.
“Injustice!” Morgan raised her fists above her head.
Peter didn’t know who she got that from.
“She got that from you,” Tony muttered into his ear.
Peter spluttered. “She did not!”
“Yeah. She did.” Tony looked at Pepper. “Pep, tell him I’m right.”
“What’d you say?” Pepper asked.
“That Morgan got that from him.”
Pepper nodded. “Sorry, Peter, she got that from you.”
“But I- I’ve never-!”
Pepper grinned. “Tony’s got-”
“Okay! Thank you, Pep, that’s all we needed.”
Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony’s got a clip of you doing that saved.”
Peter glared at him.
“It was a funny moment,” Tony defended, “why wouldn’t I save it?”
“But did you need to show it to everyone?”
“Yes. It felt like a crime to withhold it from them.”
Peter huffed. “I’m going to shower. Have fun with Morgan.”
“Hey- no,” Tony tried.
“I can’t hear you, my nose is stuffed up it’s just muffled everything.”
“Pepper,” he heard Tony start.
“What?”
“Why are our children like this?” Tony asked.
“Because they’re yours,” Pepper deadpanned, “they get it from you.”
~~~~ BONUS SCENES:
“I’m home!” Peter announced and braced for impact.
Moments later, Morgan was flinging herself into his arms. “Petey! Welcome back! You’re just in time!”
“I am? For what?” Peter propped her on his hip.
“Our costumes are here!” Morgan cheered.
“Costumes?” Peter asked. “Why, Miss Morgan, is it Halloween already?!”
Peter knew it was. He’d spent the last few nights getting as much work done as possible before the weekend so he could have it completely off.
“Petey!” Morgan laughed when Peter kissed her cheek. “You’re so forgetful.”
Peter shrugged. “Blame Dad. I get it from him, you know. Mom said so, therefore, it must be true.”
It had been an…adjustment to call both of them Mom and Dad. But after many nights of contemplating and making May pause her soap opera, Peter decided that it would be for the best.
Calling them Pepper and Tony would only confuse Morgan and/or make her begin to call them Pepper and Tony.
And while Pepper was able to laugh it off, Tony wasn’t quite able to. It likely had something to do with his relationship with his own father.
Peter doesn’t think he’d ever referred to the man as anything other than Howard, or when he was being sarcastic— dear old dad. Always said with venom.
Anyway. It was simply for the best. It had nothing to do with Peter wanting to call them that.
Nothing at all.
“I already told everyone what we’re going as,” Morgan announced.
“Oh, yeah?” Peter walked into the kitchen to find Tony brewing another pot of coffee.
“Well, not everybody,” Morgan amended, “I haven’t told Daddy yet.”
“Told me what?” Tony plucked Morgan out of Peter’s arms, carefully setting her on the counter, before pulling Peter into a hug. “Welcome home, Pete.”
Peter squeezed him back. “Good to be back. I hate college. The only thing being tested there is my patience.”
Tony smothered a laugh into Peter’s shoulder. “I thought a nerd like you would love it there.”
“I love the content, I hate the assignments.”
“Daddy! Me and Petey are going as princesses for Halloween!”
“Really? This is the first I am hearing of this.” Tony turned to her with his hands on his hips.
“That makes two of us,” Peter muttered into his ear. “What color dress did you get me?”
“Red! For Spider-Man!” Morgan cheered.
“Who got you these dresses, honey?” Tony asked.
“Uncle Rhodey!”
Tony nodded. “I’ll make sure to stock up on that tea he likes so much.”
.
Rhodey laughed himself into a wheezing fit. Tony wasn’t too different.
“I feel like the wand is a bit too much for me,” Peter said, he resisted the urge to fuss with the tiara on his head.
“You look beautiful, Peter,” Morgan complimented.
“Thanks, Morgan.” Peter grinned at her. “But I thought you said we were going as princesses.”
“Every princess has to have a knight, Petey, duh.” Morgan was wearing a knight costume.
“That’s not-”
“Who will protect you if danger strikes?!” Morgan brandished her sword. “Fear not, damsel in distress, for I am here to save you.”
Peter sighed. “My hero.”
“I need pictures,” Tony decided.
Peter grinned as an idea entered his mind. “Ah! Save me, my knight in shining armor!” Peter pointed a finger at Tony. “Save me from the foul beast!”
Morgan let out a battle cry and launched herself at Tony.
“Ah!” Tony yelped as he was thwacked with a sword. “I don’t deserve this!”
Rhodey laughed impossibly harder.
~~
Peter was a little suspicious at how nice their outing had been.
A few hours before they had to pick Morgan up from school, Tony decided it’d be nice to go out and spend some time just the two of them. Pepper would have come along but she had a meeting.
They’d gotten lunch before strolling through the park before it was time to pick Morgan up.
“Good God, how long is this going to take?” Peter complained, leaning his head against the window.
Tony had left to go get Morgan from her teacher at least ten minutes ago.
“Any longer and I- oh, here he is!” Peter took a closer look at the man.
Tony was pale and his pace was brisk.
When the car door opened, “What’s wrong?”
Tony helped Morgan into the seat, buckling her in before sliding in the drivers seat and dropping his head into his hands.
“What- is everything alright?” Peter looked between the two of them.
Morgan didn’t seem bothered at all.
Tony took a deep breath. “We were having a lovely conversation. Morgan introduced me to her friend’s mom and it was fine. Everything was great.”
“So…?”
“And then Morgan says,” Tony stopped to take a breath. “She decides to announce that she’s Jewish.”
Peter bit his lip to keep himself from laughing at the man’s misery.
“Do you wanna tell Peter why you said that, munchkin?” Tony asked, turning to face Morgan.
“I noticed her necklace, Daddy! Petey has one just like it.”
“So you told her you’re Jewish?!” Tony cried.
“Am I not?”
“No, Morgan! You’re not Jewish.” Tony leaned his head back and sighed. “I can’t ever show my face there, again.”
“Morgs, remember when I said that I had a mom and dad before I met Tony and Pepper?”
Morgan nodded.
“Well, they were Jewish and that’s why I’m Jewish. Just like you’ve got Italian in you because your grandma was Italian.”
It took Morgan a moment before she was nodding again. “Just like you’re part-spider and I’m not?”
“I- sure.”
Tony was now resting his head on the steering wheel.
“Aw. Cheer up, Dad.” Peter rubbed his back.
“We’ve gotta transfer schools. I’m never going to be able to show my face, again.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Daddy’s so dramatic, isn’t he?”
“So much drama.”
“He should be a star in one of Aunt May’s soaps, what do you think?”
Morgan clapped her hands. “Yes, yes, yes!”
~
Sometimes, Peter couldn’t quite believe how lucky he’d gotten.
“Come on!” Tony yelled, again. “What part about family photo do you people not understand?”
“We’re coming, Tony, geez,” Rhodey said, wiping whipped cream from his chin.
“No, not you. You’re not invited. You were mean to me today.”
“Drama,” Peter whispered to Morgan, holding her in his arms.
Rhodey snorted. “Fine by me.”
“Get your butt over here, Platypus. I didn’t say you could leave. Where’s Happy?”
“He’s coming,” Natasha promised, holding Peter’s camera in her hands.
“You remember how to work it, yeah?” Peter checked-in.
“Of course, I remember. I’ve already taken five photos and I expect each and every one to be developed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Peter nodded. He could already sense that at least one of them was embarrassing.
Pepper arrived, easily taking her place beside Tony.
“Peter, come closer,” Tony said as he dragged him closer, “let me hold both of my kids.”
Happy snorted.
“Can it, Happy,” Tony snapped without any real heat.
“Where is- May!” Pepper called for the woman.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!”
“Yeah, we can’t take this picture without you!” Tony said.
“Wait! What about Gerald?”
“Gerald’s in the background, sweetie,” Tony promised. “Now look at the camera and smile.”
“You sure you don’t want to be in the photo, Natasha?” May asked.
“I’m sure,” Natasha assured.
“Alright, on three,” Tony said.
“Last I checked, I was the one with the camera, Tony.” Natasha lowered the camera to give him a look.
“Oh, well, forgive me-”
.
A week later, there were six new photos in the Stark home.
Five candid shots, each one taken at different moments. Catching people mid-sentence, mid-laugh, or mid-nap.
The sixth photo was placed in the middle, the center of it all.
The seventh photo, one of Morgan braiding Natasha’s hair that was taken a lot later in the night, was also placed up there.
“I didn’t say you could take that,” Natasha pointed out one morning.
Peter hummed. “You didn’t seem to have a problem when I was taking it.”
“I didn’t think you’d hang it up.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Peter didn’t look at her. “You belong up there. It’s the family wall, after all.”
Natasha was quiet for a moment. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Peter smiled. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”