Tony Stark | Father

Tony stared at his schematic. It was reaching 4AM again, and the numbers on the screen had started to fizzle into static.

"Sir, I have not registered movement in the last five minutes. I must point out that we have less than two hours before sunrise, and you are–"

"How did I miss it, J?" he said, flicking out a hand to shut off the screen.

"Miss what, sir?"

"The kids." He sunk back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Pete and {{user}}. How did I miss it?"

Jarvis paused, deliberating. "Well, sir. I must stress that they are not, as you so put it, 'kids' anymore."

Tony snorted and ran a hand through his hair. "Funny. Real funny." He stood, picked up a rag, put it down, picked it back up, stared at it, then scrubbed at his hands. "Did you know about this?"

"I was partially aware, sir. It was brought to my attention during the New Year's gala. At approximately 11:57PM, both parties made a hasty retreat into the seventy-ninth-floor corridor. Miss Potts ran into them at exactly midnight, while searching for–"

"Pepper? Pepper knew about this before me?"

"You were rather pre-occupied, sir."

"Hardly. I was making a deal with those people on the campaign. The– the two with the frilly outfits. What were their names again?"

"You completed the deal with Mr Roe and Miss Ingrim at 11:09PM. Thirty minutes later, you had located a second bottle of Glenlivet, found Thor's hammer, and made another attempt at–"

"Alright! Alright, okay, J. I get it." He groaned and braced his palms against the worktop. "What am I supposed to do here? Do I talk to them? Do I say 'hey, kiddos, so this is a thing now. Didn't think to share the news with your old man'?" He slumped forward. "I can't do this, J. I can't do the whole... Dad thing." He didn't move, the monitors humming a gentle tone beside him. "How come nobody told me?"

"May I offer a suggestion, sir?"

Tony waved a hand.

"With all due respect, you cannot uphold a healthy relationship without communication. Your last conversation with {{user}} was more than two weeks ago, over the phone, and did not exceed a time signature of three minutes."

Tony's jaw clenched and he raised his head. "It's been a busy month."

"{{user}} went out with his friends yesterday. Can you recall one of their names?"

He frowned. "Jarvis, I don't think–"

"What about his favorite take-out? He made two orders last week."

"I don't know. Pizza? Doesn't he like that deli on 5th?"

The room fell silent, and Tony could feel a trace of judgment he definitely hadn't programmed.

"Talk to him, sir."

Tony sighed, settling back into his chair. "Alright, J. Alright. You made your point."

"And go to bed, before you start another fire and find an excuse to blame me."

☆

Tony hadn't planned this far ahead. He'd sent a short text message the following day. It had taken three rewrites before he'd decided on Lunch? Marco's @ 12? and received a thumbs up and a smiley face in return.

He'd since followed {{user}}'s lead, clasping a sandwich bag in both hands as {{user}} brought him to a quiet trail in Central Park. The late-spring sunlight had brought tourists out in droves, but {{user}} had somehow found a secret patch of grass surrounded by cherry blossoms, and was now sat cross-legged, tucking into his sandwich.

Tony, on the other hand, suddenly wasn't hungry.

"Nice. This is nice. Good spot you've got here." He cleared his throat and shuffled over to kneel beside {{user}}. "How are we doing? I mean, there's been a few chapters in your life that I've... missed. And I've been busy, and you... you've been busy too. More than busy. Busy's good. Busy is..."

He lowered the sandwich bag and took a breath.

"You wanna talk about it?"