Chapter Text
It all started with Maple.
Tony had always adored dogs, over several years he'd plead with both of his parents for them to let him have one of his own. Begging with his mom was much more productive than trying to reason with Howard, though in the end it didn't really matter because his sadistic father always held the upper hand. If a dog would bring Tony joy, then there would be no dog.
And then they had died, and Tony had spiralled into a hurricane of drinking and partying and sex. Not all rationale had abandoned him, he knew that he lacked the responsibility to look after a living creature, and even neglecting that concept, his public downward-spiral had caused his reputation to take a sizeable hit, and no rescue centre would ever let him take an animal home. Anyway, what with running Stark Industries by himself, moving from meeting to meeting to party and back to meetings, his dog would have ended up spending it's whole life alone or with dog walkers, and that wouldn't have been fair.
Then he was kidnapped and his life took a drastic turn.
From Afghanistan and Ironman, to The Avengers, New York, Ultron. . . Siberia.
Tony felt like he hadn't breathed since his parents died, and then, abandoned by the team who he'd begun to view as family, he felt like he did nothing but.
It makes sense that at some point during their University career, young, naive, teenage Tony would have mentioned his adoration for dogs to his best friend, but that longing had been replaced by anxiety and depressive episodes when everything went to shit.
So when James Rhodes strolled right into his workshop with a golden retriever, he almost had a stroke.
"I.. what is that?".
Pure, unadulterated joy blossomed across the officer's face, and Tony regretted opening his mouth before he'd had the opportunity to properly process the situation. "This, Anthony, is a doggy. Specifically, a golden retriever and her name is Maple".
The genius rolled his eyes, irritated and slightly embarrassed at his sluggish brain. It had to have been days since he'd slept, and it was doing nothing for his eloquence nor his attitude. "Right. And what is 'Maple' doing in my workshop?". He lifted lazy quotation marks around the dog's name, though his heart wasn't really in it and he knew that Rhodey could tell.
"She needs a home", his friend stated, matter-of-fact tone and zero sugar-coating, "and you have one".
Tony blinked, struck dumb once again, "You want me.. to take the dog". It was meant to be a statement, but came out more like a question.
Not once in his life had Tony ever been trusted with another living creature. The desire had been there, but the means to execute it had never aligned. He'd been living by himself for so long, surviving on a fucked up schedule with little structure and fuck-tons of chaos, that he wasn't certain that he'd know how to look after something else. All that responsibility, a vulnerable life reliant on him.. it was terrifying.
This terror had become commonplace in Tony's life, every single time he made eye-contact with his protege. Peter wasn't meant to remain in the genius' life as a recurring figure, he was supposed to play his part and then slip out of his orbit and back into his much safer life, helping the elderly cross roads and rescuing cats from trees. But he made his impact. Peter Parker, full of innocence and purity, somehow wormed his way into Tony's life.
And now Tony's day includes praying to every deity that he doesn't believe in that he won't ruin him.
"Tony. You have a home, you have money, you've got the time and the knowledge and the love. There's no reason why you can't take her".
The concept that Rhodey could be right flashed through Tony's brain, but the doubt crept right back. What good could the billionaire really be with a dog? His experience was greatly lacking, his life was a mess and if he couldn't take care of himself then how was he supposed to take care of another living being? "There's got to be someone else". He shook his head and averted his eyes from the big, soft brown eyes of the dog.
"No, Tones, there isn't", his voice was suddenly harder and more insistent. "If you don't take her then she'll get sent to a shelter and she's a wimp, Maple wouldn't last a week".
"Neither would I!".
Rhodey took a deep breath, closing his eyes as though taking a moment to calm himself down and consider his next words carefully, "Fine. Take Maple for a week, and if in seven days you can look into those eyes and send her to a shelter then I will take her back".
His best friend's warning glare was enough to know that he wasn't going to give in, and Tony made the decision that it would be much easier to just take the dog for a week than argue.
"Fine".
The grin that covered Rhodey's face almost tempted Tony to throw a spanner at it.
---
Before leaving, Rhodey gave Tony a run through of Maple's belongings. There wasn't much, a bed, food, and a horrible, manky cuddly toy named 'Edgar' that the dog just wouldn't part with. One of the first things the billionaire did after his friend left was sit down on the couch and order whatever he thought the dog might want/need. It didn't matter if she was only going to be there for a week, he wanted her to be as comfy and happy as possible.
He didn't particularly expect her to hop up next to him on the couch, but looking down at the animal who had curled into a ball against his side, he couldn't find it in him to tell her to get down. Besides, if she was only staying for a week then there was no harm in indulging her. He could donate it to whatever shelter she went to.
The plan was to take care of her, though keeping strictly to the bare minimum so as to not get emotionally attached. Then, he'd send her back with Rhodey and never have to think about her again.
Except, it didn't really work out that way.
In the evening, he'd fed her and then let her out onto one of the rooftop gardens. She'd zoomed in and out of the trees and flowerbeds, ecstatic with the outdoor space. Tony had to look away.
Leaving her in her bed wasn't too much of an ordeal, she curled up quite happily and didn't protest when Tony left the living room and went to his own bedroom. Taking care of Maple, if only for a few hours, had left him exhausted, and for the first time in weeks he'd decided to actually go to sleep in his bed.
It wasn't until halfway through the night that there was an issue.
Tony drifted out of sleep gradually, vaguely aware of a high-pitched whining coming from the end of his bed. Barely conscious and momentarily forgetting the dog that was dropped off the night before, he panicked, bolting upright and reaching out his arm to call his gauntlet. By the time the metal connected with his palm, his eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the doggy face at the end of his bed, and the memory of Maple flooded him with relief.
Relaxing back into the cushions and deactivating his gauntlet, Tony shook his head. "Come on then", he sighed, fighting a smile as the golden retriever hopped up onto his bed. He lost the fight with his laugh when Maple's first move was to attempt to repeatedly lick his face, leading to somewhat of a wrestling match between the avenger and the dog. "Maple.. Maple!", the dog pulled away and just stared him in the eyes. "Come on, it's bed time, go to sleep".
She didn't need telling twice, Maple curled up, pressed into his side with her head in his armpit. Though Tony would need some time to admit it, the warmth of her fur brought comfort which he hadn't had since Pepper broke it off. His heart filled with a little more love than before, Tony fell asleep, Maple in his arms.
---
The next day was a Friday, and Fridays were lab days with Peter. The boy would be dropped off by Happy after school, spend the evening with Tony in his lab, and then the two would order takeaway food and watch a movie (usually Star Wars) until Peter would fall asleep on the couch and Tony would have to wake him up and awkwardly manoeuvre him to his bedroom.
Initially, Peter had been mortified over being half-carried by his idol, though it had become so routine that the embarrassment had long worn off.
Fridays had quickly become Tony's favourite day of the week, though that was another fact which he would take some time to admit, even to himself.
He probably should've guessed that Maple and Peter would immediately adore each other, that amount of innocent, pure, untainted energy was unimaginable until it was in front of him. He also probably should've known that as soon as the two made contact, they'd be inseparable. Peter would fall in love with the dog, and Tony would never be able to get rid of her.
"Mr Stark!" He'd practically squealed as Maple bounded across the workshop to greet him, "You got a dog!". Tony had barely had the opportunity to open his mouth to dispute the fact before Peter squealed again, sat on the floor with his arms around the animal, his face pressed into her fur, "Mr Stark I love her! What's her name?".
The genius considered bursting the boy's bubble, telling him that the dog was not a permanent fixture because Tony couldn't deal with that kind of commitment, but just the idea of his sad, puppy eyes made him feel sick with guilt. In all of thirty seconds, Peter had managed to fall in love with the dog which Tony was trying so hard to keep distant from.
"Maple, her name is Maple".
Peter's hands cupped the retriever's face, her tail wagging and eyes bright, in that moment Tony realised how much Peter is like a puppy. "Hi Maple", the teen said softly, "I love you".
Tony could hear in his voice that he meant it, and he knew that he would never be sending this dog back.
Later that night, when Peter fell asleep against Tony, his arms hugging Maple close to his chest, the billionaire couldn't find an ounce of resentment in his heart. Maybe, having a dog wouldn't be such a bad thing.