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Being a Stark [Superfamily]

Chapter 34

For the upcoming three days, there doesn’t seem to be any change. With the limited visiting hours that are allowed at the ICU, Peter can’t spend his week-end with Tony. He goes to the compound instead, where he hangs out with Harry for a bit.

But even hanging out with him can’t seem to distract Peter. Harry is, after all, Harry, and he has never really understood humility or compassion the way Peter has been taught it. It’s not his fault, either, it’s just a sad fact.

He goes to the movies with Ned after a little while, but even there he can’t seem to enjoy himself. In the end, he always ends up in the hospital, holding his father’s hand between his own. And Tony’s awake, though he’s not always entirely there. His concentration is close to zero, and he keeps on forgetting simple facts. Sometimes he thinks Steve is about to walk in to the room. Other times he insists on going home, claiming that there’s nothing wrong with him.

The doctors all seem to think transplantation will be necessary. The only problem with that is that Tony isn’t a candidate given his alcoholic tendencies.

“He has to be at least six months sober before he can receive a liver. Otherwise there’s too much chance of him falling back to it,” Dr. Palmer had said after the hepathologist had come by. Tony had shouted angrily at that before his mood changed completely and he started crying about how it’s his own fault. Peter had just held him back then, but hadn’t said anything otherwise.

It’s Wednesday now, about a week since Peter called for the ambulance. Tony hasn’t gotten better at all, and even the doctors seem to agree that the encephalopathy seems to be getting worse as he’s getting disoriented all the time. May isn’t working now, and Peter is alone. Pepper had been here a little while back, but she and Happy had to leave again after only an hour. Vision came by as well, but he hadn’t said much. Rhodey is still there, though he's currently downstairs to get something to eat. Walking gets easier for him, so it seems, though he's still a bit shaky on his legs.

So Peter’s alone, with a sleeping Tony Stark next to him. And he’s looking at the phone on the nightstand. It’s stayed here all the time, and even though Peter can’t recall bringing in the charger for the thing, it doesn’t seem to run empty on it.

He feels a slight guilt at not giving Steve all the news about what’s happening. After all, Steve has always treated him right ever since they met. He’s never been bad to him, never angry, nor has he ever lied to him.

A few seconds in Peter’s head. That’s all it takes before he leans over Tony’s sleeping form and grabs for the phone. The battery is halfway drained, so Peter has enough to use it. He doesn’t think, he just presses the right combination of buttons, and then he puts the device to his ear.

He doesn’t know how late it is in Wakanda. There’s a few hours difference between them, but Peter has no idea how much. He’s never looked it up, mostly he just calls and Steve just answers.

Eventually, somebody picks up.

“Tony, please, no more,” Steve says pleadingly on the other side of the line. Peter frowns.

“Uh, it’s me,” he says. Did he call at a bad time?

“Peter? I thought you wouldn’t call me anymore,” Steve admits. Peter nods.

“I wasn’t going to, but… I don’t know, I don’t want to stay angry at you,” he admits. You’ve been good to me, after all.”

“You were angry,” Steve states then instead of asking. Peter closes his eyes, turns his head to the side to look at Tony, who is still sleeping. He takes his hand and squeezes his fingers.

“I was, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Steve, Tony’s not- he’s not doing good,” he quickly warns him. “They say if it doesn’t get better soon he’ll need a transplant, but I’m not a good match.”

“It’s the liver, isn’t it?” Steve asks. Of course, it’s the most obvious answer, given Tony’s history with drinking and the beat his liver took in all those years. “What’s his blood-type?”

“A-positive,” Peter answers. “I’m AB, though I wouldn’t have been able to donate either way.”

“I see.”

“Steve, what did you mean when you picked up the phone? Have you been talking to Tony lately?” He has to ask, because it’s strange. Tony in his delirious stage, when he keeps on forgetting things… it’s possible that he’s been calling Steve without any knowledge that they’ve broken up. He can’t imagine how hard that must suck for Steve.

“It’s nothing really, he’s just been forgetting that we’re no longer together, and he keeps on calling and giving me pet-names. But I understand how that could happen, now. His brain is just… fried...”

Tony stirs next to Peter. The teenager jumps up, shifting in his seat until he’s leaning closer to Tony. His breath evens out again, but he seems agitated in his sleep.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I know you love him. It can’t be easy.”

“I shouldn’t complain,” is what Peter gets in return. “I, uh, I need to hang up now, son. I’m actually on a mission right now and I can see multiple guns pointed at me. I’ll talk to you later?”

Peter nods. Sound exciting.

“Okay, bye Steve.”

They hang up. Tony blinks his eyes open immediately after. He groans as he tries to move a bit, reaching one hand up to rub his eyes.

“How late is it?” he asks. Peter looks down on the screen of the phone.

“Seven in the evening. May comes in about an hour to get me home,” he reveals. Tony sighs, turns his head around and looks at Peter.

“I’m sorry I’m putting you through all of this,” Tony starts. “You wanted a father but what you got is an entire Grey’s Anatomy-episode with all the drama of the past few seasons put together.”

Peter snorts at the metaphor. Tony’s never really been good at those, has he?

“It’s alright. You just make sure you survive, alright?” Peter returns. He squeezes his hand again. Tony smiles.

“I’ll do my best,” he returns jokingly. Then he sighs and shifts again in the bed. He stares ahead for a few seconds and then frowns. “Where’s Steve?”

Oh no, not again.

“Dad, Steve’s not here, remember? He’s in Wakanda.”

“Why isn’t he here? That’s not like him, to stay away from me when I’m like this? Normally he would hang all around me to make sure I’m okay?”

“You broke up with him, remember?” Peter continues. This is really not going to be a good day.

“I broke up-? Why would I do that? Peter where’s Steve? Why isn’t Steve here?” Tony’s breathing gets harder, and he starts to sit up despite the strain it puts on his body. Peter frowns in worry; Tony’s never reacted like this! Mostly it’s just ‘oh’ or ‘okay’. He’s never been in panic about it.

“Dad, please,” Peter starts, but Tony shakes his head and starts throwing the covers off of him.

“I need to- I need to see Steve, I need-“ His voice is shaky, just like his hands. Before he can pull out his IV-line, Peter grabs his hands again to stop him. “Peter why are you stopping me? You don’t understand, Steve should be here!”

“Dad, stop panicking and get back in bed, you’re wearing yourself out!” Peter warns him. Tony stops squirming and starts taking quick but deep breaths. Peter then grabs for the phone, knowing it’s probably a bad idea to do this. He dials the number, and puts the phone on speaker.

Steve doesn’t answer immediately this time. The line goes over, again and again, and for a moment Peter’s afraid that nobody will pick up. Then, his fear is pushed aside when Steve’s familiar voice fills the room again.

“Peter?” Steve sounds a bit breathless.

Tony shoots up when he hears the sound. He grabs the phone from Peter’s hand and holds it close to his ear.

“Steve! Steve, honey, please tell me where you are I can’t do this without you, where-“

“Dad! Stop it!” Peter almost shouts, pulling the phone away again. Tony is shivering as Peter clears his throat and swallows. “Sorry, Steve. Dad was panicking because you aren’t here. I just thought he should hear your voice for a moment.”

Steve sighs. Peter knows it’s awful of him to ask for this, but he’s never seen Tony this scared before. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“Tony, hey honey, I’m here, okay? Just listen to my voice for a bit.”

Tony takes a deep, shaky breath. Then he nods, relaxing a little bit again.

“I’m not here right now, I’m in Wakanda, remember? With the King and the others?”

“But why aren’t you here? If it’s because of me, please, I’m sorry!”

“It’s- it’s not your fault Tony. Stuff happened, and now me and the team, we have to hide for a bit. Just until they’ve tweaked the accords and drop the charges on us. After that, I’ll be right back with you, alright?”

“But do- You still love me, right? Even if I screwed it up?”

“You didn’t. But I do love you. And you love me, and we’ll be together soon, I promise.”

Tony nods with tears in his eyes. Peter helps him put his legs back into the bed and pulls the covers back over him.

“Now do you promise you will listen to Peter from now on? He’s also trying to help you.” Peter gives Tony a quick smile after that. Tony smiles back, though only hesitantly.

“I- I will,” he promises. Peter squeezes his hand again and goes to sit back down on his chair, shuffling it closer to Tony this time.

“Okay, then I’ll hang up now, okay?”

“Okay, I love you.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment. Peter swears that he hears a sniff on the other side of the line; is Steve crying?

“I love you, too, Tony. More than you can imagine.”

After that he hangs up. Tony wipes his eyes dry and sighs loudly. He shakes his head, and looks everywhere but at Peter, suddenly seeming ashamed about what just happened.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. I just get so confused all the time,” he admits. “People shouldn’t be taking care of their fathers like this.”

Peter shrugs it off.

“I don’t mind doing it. As long as you’ll do your best to get through this.”

Tony doesn’t smile. All he does is lie back down and close his eyes. Peter knows he isn’t sleeping no matter how much he’s trying. He feels guilty when May comes to take him home, but he knows he can’t stay. Tony urges him to leave, telling him it’s a school day tomorrow and that he needs his rest. So Peter goes.

Harry surprises him the next day when he suddenly shows up for school. Peter, who’d expect his day to be going pretty slowly as ever, just heads to his locker, meets up with Ned, and starts walking towards his first class with his friend in tow.

He’s already seated at his desk when the boy walks in, bag thrown over his shoulder and hair slicked back. He’s wearing a leather vest, and looks pretty much like one of those Greasers from those movies May talks about all the time. It looks weird.

But not as weird as to see him standing here.

“Oh, yes, class, we have a new student from today. Mr. Lyman, right?”

Harry nods, giving the teacher a grin.

“Harry Lyman, yes,” he says proudly. “I just came over from… Seattle. Didn’t like the rain, parents split up, what else can you do?” He shrugs it away as if it’s not a big deal. Peter doesn’t really know what to think of it. His senses don’t give him any warnings, but he’s still not feeling quiet easy about it.

He recognizes the name, too. Once, when they were very small, Harry used to tell him the stories about his mother. They were nothing extraordinary, really, but he can remember her being mentioned a lot. Emily Lyman. Once, before he started idolizing his father and way before he started hating him, Harry used to look up to his mother, aspire to be like her. Then, after she passed away, Harry never mentioned her again.

“You look familiar,” somebody in the class says. Harry just snorts.

“Yeah, I’ve been in a commercial once when I was a kid,” he lies. It’s a stupid lie, because it’s possible one of these idiots will be looking for proof. “Nothing special, though, you can’t even find it on YouTube.”

Harry then winks at the teacher and hurries to the empty seat next to Peter. He gives Peter a wink as well, and then he starts to take out his books. While the teacher is starting with explaining his plans for today, Peter leans towards his former best friend.

“What are you doing?!” he hisses at him. Harry smiles at him.

“They said I was ready! I’ve been in therapy for months, Peter! I’m doing better, I just need some people that aren’t scientists to talk with once in a while!” Harry hisses back. When the teacher turns to look at them, the two pretend that they’ve never spoken a word to each other in all their lives.

“Alright, but don’t get me in trouble!” Peter returns. Harry snorts.

“You’re doing just fine on your own on that front,” he jokes. Peter rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. Hidden behind Ned, who is seated before him, Peter takes out his (own) phone and checks it for messages. There’s something from May, giving him an update on Tony’s situation (it hasn’t changed). Next to that there’s another message from Wade Peter’s ignoring once again.

Class goes slow, but eventually the bell rings and Peter throws his stuff back into his bag. When he stands up, he suddenly has two people looking at him, those being Ned and Harry.

“Uh,” he mutters, letting his mouth fall open at the sudden realization that he’ll get to introduce these two! He hopes they’ll get along! “Ned! This is Harry! He’s my best friend from when we were kids!”

Ned smiles and holds his hand out to Harry, who doesn’t smile back as widely but still shows him a little grin. He shakes his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says calmly. “So you’ve been caring for this brat in the time that I’ve been gone?”

“Kind of,” Ned jokes along. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Alright, enough of that, let’s get to the next class.”

They make it until lunch time. They take their usual (empty) place at the lunch table, make arrangements for a movie night to let Harry catch up on the new movies he’s missed this year, and discuss other film theories. It’s a good way for him to relax a bit after these past few stressful days.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Harry slaps Peter’s arm while staring straight ahead. With his mouth fallen open, Peter for a moment wonders if he’s having a stroke or something. Or, maybe a flashback? Oh, that wouldn’t be good at all.

“Who is that beautiful girl there?” he asks in a whisper. Both Peter and Ned turn to where Harry’s looking at. Peter’s eyebrows go up when he finds MJ on the receiving end of that stare. MJ, who is walking their way with her hair pulled up messily and blowing a bubble with chewing gum. She’s holding her plate with lunch, and probably comes to take her usual place at their table without bothering to talk to them much.

“Uh, that’s MJ,” Peter answers in response. Harry lets out a loud breath.

“That must be short for Mary-Jane, it’s beautiful,” he deduces. Peter holds back a snort. Ned corrects him.

“Actually, it’s for Michelle Jones. Though we’ve been promoted to calling her by her initials since we’re supposedly ‘friends’.”

“Michelle,” Harry mutters, still staring at her when she takes her place at the table. She gives Peter and Ned a questioning look, but they just shrug.

“Hi, Nerds,” she greets them, pretending not to notice Harry after that. Peter and Ned just wave at her. She pokes her fork into her spinach without seeming to want to eat it. “Have you heard the news on Stark? He seems to be in critical condition.”

She gives Peter a knowing look. He sighs. Why does he always feel like she knows too much? She can’t know, right?

“Yeah, it’s a shame we don’t know more,” Ned returns, feigning innocence. Harry just keeps on staring at MJ. It’s a bit weird to call her that after using Michelle all the time, but she’s been insisting on it for a little while.

“I’m sure we don’t,” she responds. She grabs for her bottle of water and takes a large gulp. Then she throws Harry a very unimpressed glare. “Listel pal, if you’re looking any longer I feel like I might combust into flames. Just say something or look somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry!” Harry squeaks, turning his head to the side. “It’s just- you’re just so beautiful.”

MJ drops her fork and her bottle after that, and her eyes open up wide. Peter notices a small blush appearing on her cheeks. Is she- is she flustered? He’s never seen her react this way, it’s weird. It would assume that she’s an actual human being with emotions.

“Uh, thanks?” she returns, uncertainly. Then she blinks a few times more and jumps up from her seat. She grabs her plate, drops her bottle again and accidentally kicks her bag from the chair to the ground. “I- uh, I need to… go… now.”

Then she hurries off after grabbing for her bag. Peter feels his mouth fall open from the surprise, and Ned, too, seems just as confused about what just happened. Harry sighs with a stupid smile on his face, sounding like the cliché love-struck fool from those movies.

“Dude, after all the models, you suddenly start crushing on Michelle Jones of all people?” Peter asks with a frown. Harry punches him in the arm without looking to the side, only watching to where MJ disappeared to.

“Wait, models? That’s a story I need to hear,” Ned butts in. Harry blinks then, gives Ned a short look, and then starts grinning.

“Oh, I have many stories to tell you, then,” he says with a smirk. And after that, he seems to forget about MJ for a little while and he starts talking.







Tony is staring. He’s aware that he’s staring, and he knows that he needs to stop staring. But he can’t. All he can really do is just sit there and wait for something to happen. He needs to focus, to concentrate. If he distracts himself with doing something, he’ll forget again. He doesn’t want to forget again.

You’re not with Steve anymore. Steve isn’t here. You can’t call him anymore.

He repeats it every time. Again and again, and for the past three hours he hasn’t had another one of these panic attacks. It’s going good for now. He’s fine, so far. There’s been visitors, but only for a short amount of time. Out of respect for the other patients on the department, visiting hours have been reduced to two hours a day, those hours being divided on two different moments during the day. Pepper’s been here earlier, telling him about what’s going on in the outside world, what she’s telling the press. Tony wants to ask her about Happy, but he’s afraid that if he talks, he’ll forget again.

Peter’s at home. That’s good. He’s been in contact with a few of the researchers a few days back. They asked him if he was alright with letting Osborn Junior go to school. Tony doesn’t remember much of it, but he figures it might do Peter good to have him back at his side. He looked happier when he was here a few hours back.

Not with Steve anymore. He isn’t here. Can’t call.

The phone doesn’t ring. Not anymore. He turned it off, either way. As a precaution. He doesn’t know the PIN-code after all. Or he doesn’t remember it at least. If he gets back to the idea of calling Steve, it won’t work. Only Peter can put the device back on.

“Hello Mr. Stark, can I come and change your IV bag?”

Tony looks up and then nods. He doesn’t speak. His dinner has been brought earlier, but he hadn’t taken much of it, really. It’s a distraction after all, and he doesn’t need that. Besides, the idea of eating makes him want to puke on the spot.

“Are you feeling alright at the moment?”

Tony looks at her shortly. Then he nods again, keeping his mouth shut.

“Is there a problem with your throat, sir? Do you need anything?”

A shake of his head. Then he smiles. He points towards his head, ticking it a few times. The nurse shakes her head.

“I don’t understand, sir?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can’t call Steve,” he says. The woman’s mouth falls open in surprise.

“Who’s Steve?” she asks with a curious look after she’s changed the bags. “A friend?”

Tony nods. “Boyfriend,” he says with a smile. Or… wait, is he? There was a thing about their relationship, wasn’t there? Something he’s forgetting. “He’ll come, soon. He’s been away.”

The nurse just smiles at him, but Tony can’t see that she doesn’t understand it completely. That’s alright, he doesn’t need her to understand. He doesn’t even care that he just announced to her that he’s in a relationship with another man. It doesn’t matter at all. Because Steve will forgive him for that.

“I’m sure he will,” the nurse says. Tony can’t remember her name.

Together. I can’t call him, he’s on his way.

“I need to ask, Mr. Stark. Are you in any pain right now?”

Tony shakes his head.

“No, but when can I go home? I haven’t been in my workshop for weeks!” he sighs. “I like to keep myself busy. My bots are probably missing me!”

“I know, I’m sorry. You need to stay a little while longer. At least until we’re sure that your liver will recover on its own or if we find a matching donor.”

“Peter?”

“Your son is not a match,” she admits.

Tony shakes his head. Better not, too. Tony doesn’t want to end up like the Osborn-kid.

“Pepper? Happy? Rhodey?”

She shakes her head as well.

“Neither are a match. But we’re looking.”

Tony blinks for a few times and then nods. He wonders why Pepper, Happy or Rhodey aren’t a match? They haven’t been injected with Spider-venom, right? Or… wait, he’s not thinking straight. This has nothing to do with the venom. It’s about blood. Pepper’s B+, so is Happy, only negative. Rhodey’s AB like Peter. They’ve told him this.

“Is Steve here?”

Where is he? He should be here, shouldn’t he? Tony looks around, finding no sign of him. He should get out of bed, search for him. He can’t, his legs feel too heavy.

“Visiting hours are over, he’s not here,” the nurse says. Tony nods, letting out a breath. Surely, Steve will be there tomorrow. “You should go to sleep. You look tired.”

Tony nods in agreement, he’s indeed tired, fucking exhausted even. He shifts a bit in bed until he’s in a comfortable position – as much that is possible with all these tubes – and then he closes his eyes. But the noises keep him awake. The pump, the monitor, both his as the one from his neighbor. The shoes of the nurses in the hallway. There’s a phone going off, doors opening and closing.

It frustrates him to no end, not being able to sleep. It’s been getting harder to do that, too. He should try again. Tony clears his throat and squeezes his eyes shut this time.

Steve. Steve will be here. Steve loves me.

The sound of another door that’s opened. Then a voice in the background.

“Hey! Sir, you can’t be here!” a nurse shouts. Tony opens his eyes again. He turns to the side to watch what’s going on. He startles when he sees a dark figure standing in the opening of his door.

The person doesn’t answer. Tony doesn’t need his voice to know who it is. He smiles, and holds out his hand. The person waits a few seconds but then comes closer. His hand is outstretched as well, fingers touching Tony’s, giving him warm chills all over his body.

“Oh, Tony,” he says, voice breaking as he speaks. The moment he’s close enough, Tony grabs his face and mashes their lips together in a quick kiss.

“You’re finally here.” Tony smiles, unwilling to pull their faces apart. He wipes a tear away from Steve’s cheeks.

“I’m here,” he agrees. “I’m going to take care of you, now, okay?”

Tony nods. Of course, Steve is going to take care of him. He always does, that’s why Tony loves him so much.

“I know you will.”

He kisses him one last time. Then everything goes black.

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