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Rhodey tsks at the state of the living room.
He can always tell when Peter’s here. When he’s blown in from a busy week as an illustrious MIT student, or when he’s rolled in exhausted and half-dead after whatever the hell Spider-Man antics he’s been up to.
This living room looks like a mixture of both.
Rhodey got here early, sure. He was supposed to get here tomorrow afternoon, and he figures Tony and the kid would have cleaned all this by then. But now he’s here and he sees Peter’s duffle dumped all over the place, his clothes spilling out in various degrees of dirty and over-worn. He’s got another duffle for his Spider-Man shit, and that looks overstuffed and abandoned at the foot of the couch, his web-bombs spilling out and extra canisters nearly bursting out the broken seams, and three of his suits half-caught in the zippers and smelling vaguely of blood and sweat.
Rhodey tsks again, dropping his own suitcase in the easy chair.
Tony lets the kid run rampant. He always has, but it’s been worse since Peter went away to college. Tony is a huge pushover for Peter on a normal day, but now he’s got the misfortune of missing him when he’s gone, so when he’s here Tony pretty much lets him do whatever the hell he wants, and celebrates while he’s doing it. And that always includes leaving a huge mess in his wake, like he’s the fucking Tasmanian devil. And sure, Peter is a little angel, whatever. Rhodey just wishes the gangly hurricane wasn’t so messy. He can’t even imagine what the hell his dorm looks like, and he’s afraid to ask.
Tony would probably celebrate that, too. Look at him living, Rhodey. Look at him just…existing. It’s amazing. He’s got a poster on the wall. Incredible. Show stopping.
Rhodey starts picking up after him, figuring he’ll help so they don’t have to deal with it tomorrow. He wonders if May is here yet or if she’s on one of her many long shifts, and he’s glad he’s catching this before she was able to clean it up. She’s had a lifetime of Peter messes, shit, he can’t even imagine.
Peter’s backpack is there, and it’s half dumped out on the ground, too. If Rhodey didn’t know any better, he would think Peter got fucking attacked in here, some mugger bold enough to infiltrate Avengers headquarters to mug Spider-Man. But Rhodey’s seen this shit before, one too many times, so he does know better.
He picks up his folders, sees his thesis plans and the flyers he’d kept and what the hell kid keeps flyers and doesn’t just dump them in the trash? He snorts to himself and starts straightening things up, but when he picks up the folder labeled GREENBAUM and stuffs it in the backpack, he sees something…strange, underneath it.
Rhodey sits on the floor. He feels like he has to sit.
He narrows his eyes and picks up the plastic bag, and he squints at it.
He lives in one of those long pauses, even though he wasn’t speaking.
His brain goes blank. Quiet.
A pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
Rhodey gapes at it, like it’s something he shouldn’t be seeing, and his stomach does twenty seven flips and he keeps staring, holding it up like a newly discovered species.
Holy shit.
He keeps staring. Peter and MJ have been together since their junior year of high school. They’re precious. The girl is a little freight train but she smiles like no other when that moron is around her, no matter what he’s doing, and she knows he’s Spider-Man and still makes sure he walks on the inside of the sidewalk. They didn’t wanna room together this year because they wanted the dorm experience but he knows they’re gonna rent some type of house next year with Ned involved, but now there’s a pregnancy test in Peter’s backpack and no way it belongs to anybody but her so there better be a guest bedroom in that house for this baby Parker—
And Rhodey is up and on his feet before he knows it, leaving behind the wreck of a living room but clutching the pregnancy test in his hand. Pepper is in DC with Nat, for the displaced bill that they’ve been lobbying, so Tony is alone when Rhodey reaches the bedroom. He’s splayed out, like he always does when he’s got the bed to himself. He’s breathing through his mouth, his eyelids fluttering, completely unaware of the way the world is shifting.
Rhodey climbs into bed and pats him on the chest.
“Wake up, grandpa.”
Tony doesn't wake up.
“Hey,” Rhodey says, patting him again. “We’ve got a situation. Hands on deck, wake up.”
Tony sucks in a breath and closes his mouth, popping one eye open. “Are you in bed with me?”
“Yeah, what’s it look like?” He squeezes the pregnancy test and shakes it in front of Tony’s face. The plastic bag rustles.
Tony narrows his eyes at it. “What’s that?”
Rhodey sighs, and realizes how fast his heart is beating, and he crawls over and turns on the bedside lamp. Tony groans, throwing his arm over his eyes, but Rhodey crawls back over and peels it away.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asks, and he clears his throat. “You’re early, birdie, the place is a wreck, I wasn’t ready—”
“I know, it doesn’t matter, look at this,” Rhodey says. “We have a problem.”
Tony looks at it, a lot like Rhodey looked at it. Then he looks at Rhodey. “Who got you pregnant?”
“Me?” Rhodey nearly yells. “Not me. Oh no. This is yours—”
Tony barks out a laugh. “Surely not mine—”
“I mean this is—this is from your boy,” Rhodey says. “Your little boy, the gangly one, the little giraffe spider one with superpowers that’s sleeping a couple rooms over.”
Tony stares at him.
For a few long moments.
Then he narrows his eyes.
“Who?” Tony asks.
Rhodey sighs and cocks his head at him. “Are you on drugs right now?”
Tony scoffs and glances to the side. “It’s fucking four in the morning are you on drugs why are you in here what are you doing waving a pee stick around—”
Rhodey feels insane. “Peter! Peter!” He shakes it in his face.
Tony scoffs again and sits up and leans on his hands. He’s quiet, too quiet, and maybe the situation is settling in—
“Peter Balder? From payroll?”
Rhodey tosses the plastic bag at him and it hits him in the nose. “Grandpa. Grandpa. What are we gonna do? Peter Parker. Peter Parker. That’s his.”
“My Peter?” Tony asks, warily, eyes wide enough to bust out of his head.
“Your Peter.”
“My Peter Parker?”
“I don’t know another one!”
Tony climbs out of bed like an other-worldly force is guiding him, and he starts pacing. “Where’d you find it?”
“Falling out of his backpack,” Rhodey says, watching Tony’s face journey.
“You sure it was his backpack?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m sure.”
“He has a lot of backpacks.”
“Tony.”
Tony practically growls at him. His brows knit together, and he grits his teeth.
“Peter having a baby,” Tony says, reaching up and gripping his hair. “He’s still a baby. A baby having a baby.”
“That’s what I thought,” Rhodey says.
“He still misses breakfast most days,” Tony says, aghast. “He still…he still watches cartoons and plays with Mortal Kombat figurines.”
“He doesn't play with them, he just displays them,” Rhodey says, wondering why he’s defending such a thing.
Tony keeps pacing. He looks down at the bag in his hand and startles like he forgot he was holding it, as if that’s not the entire purpose of what’s going on here. “MJ would—she’s always ready—but this, would she—accident, no—May’s gonna have a stroke—” He stops and looks at Rhodey.
“You wanna go?” Rhodey asks, raising his eyebrows and reading Tony’s mind.
“Let’s go,” Tony says, looking haunted and panicked.
They march down the hallway, and Tony is wheezing like his body is giving out. They don’t bust down Peter’s door, though Rhodey’s shaking hands nearly do it without his go-ahead.
Uncle Rhodey. It has a nice ring to it.
Now slow down, Jesus—
Peter is sleeping like a tiny angel, on his side with both hands tucked up under his cheek. It’s an idyllic scene, until Tony rushes forward like a bull in a china shop and collapses next to the bed, grabbing onto Peter’s shoulder. Rhodey can’t tell if he meant to fall, but he can’t really assist him before Peter is startling awake and screaming like he’s being attacked.
“Hey!” Rhodey yells, moving forward and kicking the door shut behind him.
Peter realizes who’s here (not murderers) and he stifles his own scream by slapping his hand over his mouth. He pulls Tony up onto the edge of the bed with one hand.
“Does Spider-Man scream every time a bad guy turns a corner?” Rhodey asks, his ears going hot. “Christ.”
“You scared me—” Peter starts.
“Peter,” Tony says, trying to catch his breath.
“What the hell?” Peter breathes, once Tony is fully sitting, once Rhodey is standing still in front of them. “What’s going on, what’s happening?”
Tony shakes the plastic bag in Peter’s face like Rhodey did to him. “Did you get MJ pregnant? Is this her pee stick?”
Peter’s eyes focus on what’s in Tony’s hand, and then they go so wide that they look like they’re about to bust out of his head.
“I found it, Peter,” Rhodey says. “I found it falling out of your backpack, it wasn’t exactly hidden, maybe you should keep your things more—straightened out if you’re gonna keep big secrets—”
“You don’t need to hide this from me,” Tony says, putting the pregnancy test down on the bed behind them and taking Peter by the shoulders. “Peter, we can help you. Me and Rhodey. And May and Pepper and everybody. We can all help.” He laughs and he looks like he’s crying. “Your kid is gonna be beautiful.”
Rhodey sniffles and tries to hide the fact that he’s sniffling, tries to be clandestine when he wipes at his eyes. He feels crazy. He wasn’t expecting all this when he showed up here. “Pete, when are you getting married—”
The door does bust open this time, and it hits the wall, and Happy is standing in his attack pose, holding a stun gun. He scoffs when he sees them, and shakes his head.
“Now why’d you scream?” he says, throwing up his hands and walking inside. “It’s just them? I thought you were being attacked—”
“I were—I am being attacked,” Peter says, looking around at them.
“Look, we came to you very calmly,” Rhodey says, holding up his hands. “Tony didn’t mean to collapse—”
Tony waves his hand through the air. “I just fell, my knees gave out, it happens—we have to start planning, kid, we have to start making plans, where’s MJ right now? You said she didn’t come down with you, is she gonna come? Jesus, she’s gotta be careful—”
“Tony, she doesn’t turn into a glass doll,” Rhodey says, raising his eyebrows at him.
“What are you guys talking about, what’s going on?” Happy asks, suspicion radiating off of him.
“We can tell him, Pete, he’s family,” Tony says.
Peter is shaking his head so hard that the entire rest of his body is shaking too, and he grabs Tony’s wrist with one hand and grabs the pregnancy test with the other.
“This—”
“PREGNANT?” Happy yells, and he covers his mouth.
“Not pregnant!” Peter yells back. “Not pregnant, not pregnant! This is not MJ’s this is from a lady who I swung to the hospital after her cab wrecked on the way to the hospital to have her baby! It’s hers not MJ’s! Not mine! Not mine and MJ’s at all not at all not even slightly! Oh my God!”
They’re all quiet for a second. Peter breathes hard, wild eyed.
“Peter,” Rhodey says, the cogs working in his 4am brain. “You don’t just pee on the stick and immediately have the baby—”
Peter literally growls. “She had it in her purse she’d been carrying it since she took the test I know that you think I don’t know that? She’d been carrying it since she took it she said it was lucky because she’d been trying for a while and then she said I was lucky because I saved her and I got her to the hospital and then she gave it to me! I have more proof we took selfies with the baby! The baby was fine and healthy! I didn’t know what to do with the pregnancy test she gave it to me! I couldn’t just throw it away that woulda been really mean! I thought it was weird too I didn’t know what to do! With it!” He slaps it down on the bedside table and collapses back against the pillows, covering his face with his hands.
Rhodey stands there and he can feel his face heating up.
Happy grits his teeth.
Tony stares down at his hands.
“What did she, uh—name the baby?” Rhodey asks, quietly.
“Kent, after her grandpa,” Peter says, from behind his hands.
Rhodey nods, and doesn’t know what the hell to say.
Tony collapses back on the bed like a Victorian maiden on a fainting couch.
“You guys are so,” Peter says, still covering his face. “You’re so. There aren’t words. There are no words. You guys attacked me. I’ve been attacked.”
“I was coming to protect you,” Happy says, pointing in his direction.
“And instead you got in on the attacking,” Peter says, pulling his hands down. “You joined. A joiner.”
“I was surprised,” Happy says, throwing his hands up.
Tony starts laughing hysterically, covering his eyes with one hand and grabbing Peter’s knee with the other.
“It’s not funny,” Peter says, but then Tony wails with laughter. “No. No.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Webs,” Tony says, laughing and laughing and laughing, and Rhodey can’t help but smile at that, and Peter clearly can’t help it either. It’s one of their favorite sounds.
“Are you?” Peter asks, fighting tooth and nail against smiling. “Are you?”
“I am,” Tony says, still laughing. He sits up and takes Peter’s face in his hands, quickly kissing his forehead.
“Deserved,” Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows at him. “And I deserve something else tomorrow for my trouble. A cake. Two cakes.”
“Fine by me, then we all get cake,” Tony says, getting to his feet.
“MJ doesn’t know but she deserves one too,” Peter says.
“Red velvet on the tab, I’ll get on it,” Tony says. “Please find a better place for your special lucky present that isn’t your backpack.”
Peter stares, that little face so betrayed. He sets his sights on Rhodey.
“I cannot believe—and you were just willing to start planning my wedding,” Peter says, pointing at Rhodey. “Just on it. Renting tuxedos. Where are they?”
“I’m always ready,” Rhodey says, without shame. “Tony and I have had the conversation.”
“Happy’s already contacted venues,” Tony says, and Happy nods, smiling.
Peter’s whole face falls. “You’ve—you—”
“Goodnight, sleeping beauty,” Rhodey says, ushering Tony towards the door and following Happy out.
“You can sleep in tomorrow, we won’t bother you,” Tony calls back to Peter.
“Uh, clearly that’s not a guarantee—”
“Love you, goodnight,” Tony says, pulling the door closed.
Rhodey can hear Peter talking as they start to walk away.
“Friday, compose text—MJ, you will literally never guess what just happened—”
“This wouldn’t have happened if Pepper was here,” Happy says.
“Yeah, she woulda kicked me out of the bed immediately,” Rhodey says, feeling just a little bit stupid.
“He’d be a good dad,” Tony says, lost in thought and rubbing his chest. “But like. In a couple years. And not as a surprise, like, completely planned, when he’s done with college, when we can finally bully—I mean, convince him to stop spider webbing—”
“And I don’t give a shit either way,” Rhodey adds, “I just feel like it’d be more fun for everybody, especially MJ, if the wedding came first—even though I know you aren’t the biggest fan of Peter drinking—”
“He’s still underage, he’s still only twenty—”
Rhodey snorts. “Look who’s talking—”
“Now, you know I’m a different man,” Tony says, raising his eyebrows at him.
“Nearly a grandpa,” Happy says, waving at them over his shoulder as he turns back into his room.
“Nearly,” Tony says, blowing out a breath. He slaps Rhodey on the shoulder. “Let’s not—go through Pete’s stuff anymore, hey? Clearly he’s just picking up garbage and weird trinkets like a tiny dragon and I just—I can’t have another scare like this, I don’t know if my heart can handle it—and I shudder to think what would have occurred if May was involved—”
Rhodey snorts, shaking his head. “Promise,” he says. “Next time it’s hands off. No cleaning. Straight to bed.”
But he can see Peter and MJ with a little baby. One day. Everyone would be absolutely obsessed. Grandma May would never stop smiling, the Avengers would be there every day to give gifts and be incredibly overbearing. And Grandpa Tony would always be hovering over their shoulders and trying not to cry.
And Uncle Rhodey would be doing the exact same.
Uncle Rhodey. It does have a good ring.
But that's who he is already.
Jesus, he'd be a great. A great Uncle. Right? How the hell does it work?
Yeah. One day.