Chapter Text
Whatever thing was happening with Peter just seemed to get worse as the week went on. Peter was constantly vying for Tony’s attention, and whenever Tony wasn’t around Peter would always ask for him or talk about him.
It was cute at first. Everyone agreed it was adorable when Peter would huff and pout whenever Steve would lean in to give Tony a kiss. Everyone thought it was precious when Peter would try to copy every little thing Tony did, like wanting to drink his juice from a coffee cup or claiming to be “doing paperwork for Aunt Pepper” when he was coloring. Everyone thought it was hysterical when Peter would try to follow Tony into the bathroom or would just burst in when Tony was trying to shower.
But as the week went on it seemed to get less adorable and more out of control, to the point of concern.
It started one day when Steve and Peter were having their usual coloring and watching cartoons session one morning. Tony’s birthday was coming up and Peter wanted to make something special for his daddy, so Steve suggested making him a card.
Peter seemed to take this suggestion very seriously, working through multiple drafts before deciding exactly what to put on the card. Steve watched on in amusement as Peter stared down at the paper in front of him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and his tongue poked out between his lips a little as he worked. He already had a few tries crumpled into balls, making a noise of frustration whenever he grabbed a new one and started again.
Peter was hunched over and working diligently on his most recent attempt. He could make out a red blob that was supposed to be Iron Man, and a smaller blob that Steve assumed was supposed to be Peter. Steve leaned forward and try and take a closer look.
“How’s it goin, Pete-”
“NO!” Peter screeched suddenly, throwing himself on top of the paper. He glared at Steve from where he was hunched over the table.
“Peter,” Steve laughed, his eyes widening in surprise, “I was just trying to-”
“NO,” Peter yelled again on a whine, pulling the paper further beneath his arms, “NO LOOK.”
“Peter,” Steve said warningly, “inside voices, kiddo. There’s no need to yell at me, I’m sitting right next to you.”
“No look,” Peter said loudly, albeit no longer screaming, “Daddy only. Papa, no.”
“Ok,” Steve said calmingly, trying to diffuse the situation, “how about this? I won’t look at your paper, if you stop yelling in the house. Okay?”
“‘Kay,” Peter said quietly, not moving from his spot over his paper until he saw Steve look away.
Steve stared at Peter from the corner of his eye for a moment, amazed and a little terrified at how quickly Peter could return to his normal, happy self before returning to his own coloring.
It all just escalated from there. And screaming seemed to become a more and more common occurrence. One particularly memorable moment was one morning at breakfast when Clint announced that he was going to “steal Tony away” that day to do something a SHIELD.
Peter did not like that at all . He started crying and yelling and screaming, begging Clint “not to steal his Daddy” before reaching out sad little arms to Tony until he picked him up. He wouldn’t even stop crying until Clint had left the room and was out of Tony’s proximity. Steve and Tony had assured Clint that it wasn’t his fault, that Peter was just going through a phase, but Clint still looked terribly guilty when he hugged Peter goodnight that night.
Everything came to a head after Tony’s birthday.
Peter had given Tony the card he made and of course Tony had absolutely loved it. They spent most of the day in the shop playing with Dum-E and helping Peter build a little toy robot. Steve and Tony figured with all the issues Peter had been having, it was probably best to just have a small celebration on their own, just their little family. So Steve cooked, and after they ate they played games with Peter until it was time for bed. Everything seemed back to normal, so Steve and Tony figured maybe the worst was behind them.
Or so they had thought.
The weekend after Tony’s birthday, Rhodey had managed to score some leave time and made plans to come spend the weekend at the Tower for Tony’s birthday. Rhodey would arrive Friday night, him and Tony would go out to some bar for dinner and a drink to catch up, and then Rhodey would spend the rest of the weekend at the Tower, playing with Peter and upgrading the War Machine armor with Tony. Of course, Peter absolutely adored his “Uncle Rowey,” so Tony didn’t even consider the possibility that there might be a problem.
Naturally, he was wrong.
Peter had been in the room when Tony told Steve of his plans, and when Rhodey arrived to pick Tony up for dinner, which in hindsight, was probably where they went wrong.
The minute Rhodey walked out of the elevator and into the living room, a loud, piercing screech rang out across the room. Before anyone could react, Peter had shot across the room as fast as his little legs could carry him. He came to a stop in front of Rhodey and began to bang his little fists against Rhodey’s legs.
“Woah, Peter!” Rhodey exclaimed, dropping everything to bend down and look over the distraught little boy. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“NO!” He screamed, smacking his hands against any part of Rhodey he could reach, shoving the other man away. “No, Rowey!”
Rhodey tried to get a grip on the boy, feeling more concerned and confused the more worked up Peter got.
“Pete—“
“Peter!” Tony admonished, running into the room to pick up the crying toddler. “Peter, we do not hit! What has gotten into you?”
“No,” Peter cried, immediately going lax in Tony’s arms and wrapping himself fully around his father like a limpet. “No go, Daddy. No go.”
“I’m sorry, Jim,” Steve said, walking over to Rhodey and offering him a hand up. Rhodey took it, looking bewildered at the boy full on sobbing in Tony’s arms. “Pete’s been a little— uh. Territorial lately.”
“‘Territorial?’”
“He gets upset when anyone else gets near Tony,” Steve said, glancing tiredly at the pair in question. “Nearly bit Clint’s head off the other day just for making a joke about taking Tony away. We think he heard us talking about your night out and, well.”
He gestured to where Tony was carrying and rocking a now quietly crying toddler across the living room.
“Ah,” Rhodey said with a nod. “My nephew did the same thing with my sister when he was that age. Grew out of it eventually, but it was a struggle to get through.”
“Everywhere we’ve looked says this is normal, but Bruce is concerned it’s growing into full on separation anxiety at this point.”
Rhodey opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Tony walked back up to them.
“Hey honey-bear,” he said quickly, jostling the boy in his arms slightly. “Peter. What do you say to Uncle Rhodey.”
“I sorry,” Peter said, hand pressed against his mouth. His cheeks were red and tear stained, and his eyes were still shining with tears. He took a deep, hitching breath. “I sorry, Rowey.”
“Oh, little man,” Rhodey said, reaching out to wipe Peter’s eyes. He leaned into the touch, thumb slipping fully into his mouth. “You’re having a rough time, huh?”
Peter nodded, pressing his face into Tony’s neck.
Rhodey looked at Tony, who shrugged helplessly.
“Can I have a hug, Pete?”
He’d barely gotten the words out before Peter was practically throwing himself into Rhodey’s arms.
“Thank you for saying sorry, buddy,” Rhodey said, rubbing his hand up and down Peter’s little back. “I forgive you.”
Peter nodded, wrapping his arms tight around Rhodey’s neck.
He turned his attention back to Tony, who seemed to be engaged in some sort of meaningful, silent conversation with Steve. Steve gestured at Tony then the door, while Tony ran his hand over his eyes tiredly.
“I have an idea,” Rhodey said, bouncing Peter a bit in his arms. Steve and Tony cut off their silent argument. “How about we all sit on the couch and watch a movie together, huh? Pete’s pick.”
“Yes!” Tony clapped, looking at Steve pointedly. Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling slightly. “I think that is a great idea, Rhodey-bear. Thank you.”
“What do you think, Pete?” Rhodey asked the boy in his arms. “Movie night?”
Peter nodded. “Wan Daddy.”
“You can sit with Daddy,” Rhodey affirmed.
Half an hour later they were all crammed together on the couch, watching the beginnings of some kids animated movie or another that Rhodey didn’t catch the name of.
By the time they were halfway through the movie Peter was drooping, and his eyes would slip closed for a few seconds before jerking open and repeating the process.
Rhodey felt his watch buzz and glanced down at the screen.
Tones: Sneak out after Peter falls asleep? Steve said he’d run interference.
Rhodes: Oh, absolutely.
Rhodey smirked as he watched Steve and Tony try to carefully maneuver the toddler into Steve’s arms without waking him up. The way they were acting, you’d think they were handling a live explosive. Though, given how Peter reacted when Rhodey showed up, probably wasn’t an inaccurate comparison.
One thing was for certain, he thought as Peter clung to Tony even in his sleep, Steve silently laughing at the disgruntled look on Tony’s face. Things were never boring in the Stark-Rogers household.