Tony flinched slightly when F.R.I.D.A.Y.
abruptly stopped the music and offered to accept an incoming call from Peter.
The fact that Peter was calling rather than texting or simply bursting into the laboratory without warning was concerning by itself.
“Um, Dad, sorry.
Are you busy?” Tony could hear that Peter was nervous.
Also, Peter called him Dad only in very rare circumstances: when he was close to death, wanted to flatter Tony into something, was deeply moved, or said it by accident.
Tony honestly did not want to discover which reason applied this time.
“I’m always busy.” Despite Peter’s worrying tone, Tony could not resist a sarcastic reply.
He snorted.
“What happened, brat?” “Okay, but don’t worry.” Tony was already worried.
“I’m at a police station, and they asked me to call someone who can pick me up.” Tony honestly did not know how to react.
Actually, he did.
The suit was already assembling around him while F.R.I.D.A.Y.
transferred the call into the helmet.
“Talk.” Tony was torn between laughing because this child was fundamentally incapable of avoiding trouble, and yelling because, God, one more announcement like this and he would definitely drop dead.
“So, I was walking MJ home, and then I started heading back to you, toward the bus stop.
I didn’t want to call Happy, so I thought I’d take a bus or the subway.” Tony rolled his eyes while F.R.I.D.A.Y.
calculated Peter’s location.
“Then a van stopped beside me.
The man looked very confused and asked whether I knew how to get to your Tower.
And I do know!
So when I said I was going there too, he offered to drive me for free if I showed him the way…” “You got into his vehicle?” Tony could not even identify his current emotional state.
The entire situation was so absurd that he could find no polite term for it.
F.R.I.D.A.Y.
suggested a series of calming breaths.
He was perfectly calm already.
“Well, yes.
Didn’t you hear me say he offered to drive me for free?” Tony was screaming internally.
The kid muttered that Tony, as usual, understood nothing.
Stark genuinely could not comprehend how Peter had decided to save three dollars on transportation when his father was a freaking billionaire.
“Then the strange man shoved some kind of cloth against my nose, and the person who was apparently hiding in the back tried to tie me with a rope.
But they obviously didn’t know about… you know.” Tony was three minutes from the station.
“So I knocked them out, but the van was still moving.
There was a little boy holding an ice-cream cone so enormous that it made me want one too.
I turned the wheel so we wouldn’t hit him, and we crashed through a fence.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.
announced that they were two minutes away while Tony attempted to recover enough inner peace not to kill the child the instant he saw him.
Why did Peter constantly involve himself in disasters?
“Then the police arrived, and I didn’t get a chance to escape.” Peter lowered his voice, probably so the officers would not hear.
“A detective arrested those guys and brought me here to give a statement.
They asked me to call someone, and apparently they never watch the news because they still haven’t realized who I am.” Tony stepped out of the suit beside the police station and thoroughly shocked passing pedestrians.
It was not every day Iron Man landed in the middle of the street and released a disheveled Tony Stark wearing a tracksuit that appeared to be stained with machine oil.
Who cared?
“So, the point is…” F.R.I.D.A.Y.
had already transferred Peter’s voice into an earpiece.
Tony could tell from the sound that Peter smiled briefly.
“Could you pick me up?
If you’re busy, I can wait for you or Happy.
It’s actually nice here.
There are lots of friendly people.” Peter continued talking in the background about how pleasant the detectives were.
He also mentioned that the men who tried to kidnap him—God, Tony still could not believe this was happening—apparently followed the news more closely than the police did.
Tony reached the office door while receiving several stunned looks from the other employees.
When he entered, the detectives froze.
Peter set his phone down and smiled radiantly.
“Hi, Dad.” Do not fall for it, Tony.
It was a tactic designed to prevent the lecture.
“You got here quickly.” “I’m surprised you called instead of sending a text.” Tony managed to calm down slightly, probably because the kid did not appear injured.
“Now give me three reasons I should not be furious with you.” “First, I’m not hurt, but you still found out about the incident.” Tony could not disagree with that.
“Second, they offered me a free ride.
Third, I’m not being held prisoner, and nobody is demanding a million dollars from you.” Honestly, Tony wanted to kill him.
Or hug him and then kill him.
Or hug him, lock him in the Tower forever, and only then kill him.
“I wouldn’t pay for you,” Tony snorted as he approached the detective.
“They would return you themselves and offer me money.” “Thank you for valuing me so highly.” Tony only stuck his tongue out and began discussing the incident with the detectives.
He appreciated professionalism in people.
They had heard Peter’s story three times, Tony Stark had stormed into their office, and they still calmly asked him to sign papers and recommended enrolling the child in self-defense classes.
The people who tried to grab Peter were the ones who needed classes.
*** Peter had spent half an hour explaining the incident to May, occasionally looking at Tony with desperate resignation.
Stark merely waved for him to continue.
He would not help.
Tony had invented the most terrible punishment imaginable for Peter: he made him call May and tell her everything.
When Pepper returned, Peter would have to tell the story again.
For a person with an instinctive talent for secrecy, the only thing that truly frightened Peter was having to confess his mistake honestly.
How ironic.
It resembled cruelty toward a child slightly, but Tony did not care.
If this taught Peter to stay away from every disaster he could possibly find, Tony had a duty to use it.
Perhaps the method would work.
Maybe his child would become normal.
Peter dropped onto the couch beside him and dramatically displayed the completed thirty-minute call.
He complained that he had actually done well and was being punished completely unfairly.
He would have complained longer, but Darkness arrived, and Peter became too occupied scratching behind her ears to express his dissatisfaction.
Tony waited for Pepper’s appearance and regretted that he could not think of anyone else to call and torment Peter further.
The instant Pepper entered the room, Tony spread a wicked grin across his face.
Peter groaned as though being tortured.
“Hi, Pepper.
Don’t worry.” Peter hurried to begin, hoping to finish as quickly as possible.
“Someone tried to kidnap me today.” “Did they return you already?” Tony practically snorted like a pig with laughter.
Peter flushed with indignation.
Pepper only smiled slyly and giggled.
“He has to tell you,” Tony added once he could speak again.
“That’s his punishment.
So, darling, you really should sit down.” “May I use the same punishment on you?” Pepper purred and lightly messed up Tony’s hair.
Pepper moved toward the table to pour herself tea.
Tony stared in offended disbelief.
Peter thought Tony genuinely had no response.
Then Stark found one and raised a triumphant fist.
“I invoke my veto!” “Why don’t I get to invoke a veto?” Peter immediately protested.
Tony and Pepper laughed together.
“I’m revoking both of your veto rights.” Pepper smirked and settled into an armchair.
“Begin, Peter.
When you finish, Tony will tell me how many hours he slept this week and how far below the required amount that was.” Peter half heard Tony ask himself the rhetorical question of whether he had slept at all.
At the same time, Peter attempted to filter his story enough that they would not remain there all night.
Perhaps Tony was right, and these conversations truly would teach Peter to avoid trouble in the future.
Who knew?
*** Seventeen and a Half Hours Later F.R.I.D.A.Y.
connected Peter’s call without even asking first.
Oh God.
Was he serious?
“Um, Tony, listen.
I think I accidentally climbed into a van full of smuggled weapons.
And it appears to have already left the city.” Tony wanted to scream.
And still kill the child.
He considered what might possibly prevent Peter from doing reckless, dangerous nonsense while the suit assembled around him.
This was his daily life now.
Wild.