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When Peter came back from being blipped, and found out that he had a half-sister, the first thing he thought was… well, he didn’t quite remember what exactly he felt. A mix of joy and apprehension, with underlying dread.
Peter had very little experience with 5-year-olds, but he figured that it wouldn’t be too hard to connect with her. They were blood-related, after all, though he obviously knew that didn’t automatically mean they’d be best friends (or that blood was the only way to be family).
Morgan was nice- no, she was downright altruistic. A good kid, really. Maybe a little mischievous, but that came with the territory of being a Stark. All in all, Peter had no problem with her, per se.
“Petey! Come with me to the park!” She shouted, giving him a too-big-for-her-face smile.
Pepper brushed her hair over her shoulder, before leaning down to help Morgan with her shoes. Morgan turned away, intent on getting them on herself.
“I can do it myself, mommy!” She explained fervently, tongue sticking out of her mouth as she velcroed them. Peter watched from afar, leaning against the living room wall of the lake house. Tony, sitting next to Pepper, looked up at him.
“Peter, do you want to come to the park with us?” He asked, giving his son a small smile. Peter shook his head.
“You guys have fun. I have homework.” Tony’s smile fell.
“Are you sure?” He asked, seemingly concerned. Peter waved him off.
“Positive. APUSH is kicking my… behind.” He corrected, remembering that his little sister was in the room. Morgan giggled.
“Peter said behind.” Tony rolled his eyes.
“Yes, yes he did. We’re off, Mongoose.” He told his daughter, before hoisting her up and onto his side to a delighted squeal, concern seemingly forgotten. Pepper looked at Peter calculatedly, but continued to follow behind her husband outside and to the car. Peter sighed once the door had shut behind them, collapsing on the sofa.
He was tired of keeping up the charade of the perfect, totally well-adjusted son.
After all, it was normal to be jealous of a sibling after having spent most of his young childhood dealing with having an alcoholic for a single parent, whilst they got dad and mom-of-the-year. Wasn’t it?
All the times he’d been embarrassed to tears of Tony showing up to parent-teacher conferences and class parties inebriated, with a random man or woman on his side before Pepper set him sober, came to mind. The pity he’d received from those same teachers and parents as Tony was escorted away on more than one occasion was nauseating.
Admittedly, he was mostly taken care of by nannies- Tony just showed up when necessary- but it still was incredibly hard on his psyche, especially when the other kids could obviously tell how much it affected him.
Every time his dad ended up in the tabloids for some inane behavior, Peter left school with the taunts of bullies in his mind. The last name Stark didn’t afford him any special treatment- it meant nothing to the kids at his elementary school.
So Peter had a bit of a sob story for being the only son of a billionaire. A mom dead in childbirth, and for way too long, a drinking deadbeat for a dad. So what? He’d mostly gotten over it, as Tony went to great lengths to redeem himself. The profuse apologies, lavish vacations, and constant gifts, along with a lot of family therapy, worked wonders.
But maybe, maybe, Peter wasn’t actually over it yet. Certainly, his therapist would tell him so, if he still saw her. Because the intense anger he felt every time Tony made his daughter’s day, all the pancakes and ice pops that Peter wanted to throw on the floor, indicated that he wasn’t.
So Peter had grown distant, and resentful. Morgan was sometimes confused and occasionally upset when he declined to play with her in lieu of homework, but sometimes, it hurt so much to see himself in her- except he was from a broken household, and she wasn’t.
Peter’s grades slipped- not enough for Midtown to notice, but certainly Tony did. He tried hard to get inside Peter’s mind, but the boy kept everything carefully locked up. He grew distant from Ned and MJ, to their disappointment, and took up being friends with the stoners that barely passed any of their classes from the local public high school.
Sometimes he even partook in their habits, hotboxing Charlie’s beat up Toyota with the other teens. He liked Charlie, and he liked Charlie more when they made-out while high. Sometimes, Charlie brought Peter more exciting things- which is why he had declined to hang out with his dad, step-mom, and sister for today.
The doorbell rang.
Peter made his way over to the door, trying hard to not look like, well, a try-hard as he calculatedly timed his movements. Not walking too slow, or too fast. He unlocked the thing, before pulling the wooden doors open.
“What’s up?” Peter said. “How was the ride over?”
Charlie ran a hand through his already messy curly black locks, taking a step inside the lakehouse. He leaned down and undid his Converse, tossing them next to the shoe rack.
“It was fine. Nice place you got.” He said simply, nodding his head in approval as he stood back up and surveyed the room. Peter toed at the entry hall rug.
“So, uh. You brought the-” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “-acid?” Charlie grinned.
“Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Sweet.” Peter whispered once more, before tugging in Charlie for a peck, which quickly deepened. “Wanna head to my room?”
“Yes. Fuckin’ of course.” Charlie responded, following on Peter’s heels upstairs, the two of them giggling as their socks slid across the hardwood floors. Charlie smiled dopily as they came upon Peter’s room, the whole place basically trashed (which was reason number one why he didn't allow Tony in there ever. Reason two was the box of condoms in his nightstand). Peter moved some of the dirty clothing piled on the floor to the side, before sweeping the knick-knacks he’d placed on the aforementioned nightstand into his arms and dumping them on his dresser.
“I think that’s all good…” Peter said, voice trailing off. Charlie pulled a plastic baggie containing LSD tabs out of his pocket, handing half over to Peter.
It didn’t take long for the effects to hit, and for Peter to pull Charlie onto the bed.
Peter, the “Invader Dad” protocol has been activated. FRIDAY announced. Peter woke up in a start, realizing that both he and Charlie were still only in their boxers, and still incredibly high.
Peter had barely gotten his shirt back on when the door to his room swung open. There, Tony was standing, looking comically shocked.
“What the…” He started. “Pete, what the fuck?”
“Oh, shit. Surprise, I’m, uh, bisexual! I think.” Peter said, snickering as he flopped back down on the bed. Charlie, equally as high, found this hilarious and let out a hyena laugh.
“I come back early from taking my daughter to the park in a fucking suit because FRIDAY reported that your heartbeat was irregular, and what you were doing was getting high with a secret boyfriend? Which, by the way, I am totally fine with, besides the fact that you’re both half-naked and look like a vampire attacked you!” Tony yelled, getting red in the face. “I seriously can’t believe you! And from the lack of weed smell, I’m guessing that it isn’t a simple case of Mary Jane.”
“Naw dad, we totally weren’t doing acid or any illicit drugs or anything.” Peter whined, putting a pillow over his head.
“LSD?” Tony shouted. “Fucking LSD? That’s what you were doing?”
“It’s not so bad.” Charlie said, slurring his words. “I can see things. Things I couldn’t see before.” He whispered.
“Alright, Peter? I am so disappointed in you. Your little friend can leave, but since I’m not looking to catch criminal charges, I’ll have Pepper drive him home. We are having a discussion. That discussion is also going to involve the fact that your boyfriend has a beard and looks like he’s way too old for a sixteen-year-old.”
“I’m only eighteen. And it was my idea.” Charlie piped up, suddenly recognizing the severity of the situation. “Like, totally my bad.” Peter, who had gone silent, simply watched as Charlie pulled his jeans on and hobbled out the room, with Tony not giving him another inch to explain himself. Tony slammed the door shut behind the teen, before shooting (presumably) Pepper a text about the situation.
“Alright. You have one minute to get dressed and start explaining what the hell has been going on? Your grades are slipping, me and Pepper have been worried sick, you’re sneaking off to have- to have sex, and you’re doing drugs. What the- just, what even? This is so unlike you.” Peter didn’t move. When Tony looked closer, the teen was trembling. Confusing it for sadness, Tony moved closer to give his kid a hug.
And that was when Peter snapped.
“No, you don’t know what’s like me, because you weren’t even my parent for most of my fucking life!” He spat. Tony backed up.
“Woah, where is this coming from?” He said, completely taken off-guard. That only served to make Peter even angrier.
“Where do you think it’s coming from? You can’t just- you can’t just shove shit in my face and expect it to make up for my childhood having fucking sucked!” He explained, seething. “And every fucking day, I have to wake up and see you make smiley-face pancakes for your daughter- you know, the child you actually like. Where were my smiley-face pancakes, dad?” That’s when Pepper stepped in the room.
“Care to explain why you’re shouting expletives at your father, Peter?” She said, pushing past Tony. Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“And you-” He pointed at the woman. “You’re not my fucking mother! In any capacity! You know why? Because Mary’s dead! She died, and left me with an alcoholic for a father!” Peter panted, suddenly out of breath. Pepper, seemingly unphased, just leant back on her heels and stared Peter down.
“You know, yelling isn’t going to help your cause. Where is any of this coming from, by the way? Because the Peter I know-”
“Fuck the Peter that you apparently know! I- I’m done pretending that I’m not still sad, and jealous, and downright fucking angry that I’ve had to deal with this shit for so long. Because before I literally died things had gotten better, and now it’s like everything’s reverted back to before, and I have to keep a fake smile on my face to keep from breaking down every day!
“Why’s Petey yelling?” Morgan questioned, popping up behind her mother. Pepper picked Morgan up, perhaps a little too quickly, and escorted her out wordlessly, giving Peter a helpless look over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.
“Peter…” Tony started, hanging rubbing a hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling this way?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d give a shit!” Peter yelled, breaking off into a cough, mouth hoarse. Tony opened the minifridge installed in Peter’s room to get a bottle of water, and frowned when he saw it was full of hard energy drinks.
“4Loko? Peter, this stuff is like, 14% alcohol.” He said, scrunching his nose. “So you’ve been underage drinking too? Way to live up to the old man you apparently hate.”
“Way to live up to Howard.” Peter spat, rolling onto his side facing the window and pulling the blanket up. Tony’s chest suddenly hurt like he was being stabbed. Ouch. He closed the fridge, before sitting down on the other side of the bed.
“I don’t… I’m sorry. Peter, I really am sorry. If you really feel this way, I’m sure we can work something out to have you live with your Aunt May for a while. It’d certainly make the Midtown commute easier.”
“So that’s your solution? Pawning me off rather than trying to make things right?” Peter retorted.
“Jesus Peter, I’m just trying to help. God knows I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to live away from Howard.” He muttered.
“Well, I’m not you.” Peter said, quietly. “I’m really not. The drugs were just for attention.” Tony snorted.
“Not to burst your bubble, but that was the exact same reason I was an addict for so long. Kid, I just want you to be happy. And believe me, I am so sorry for the way that I acted when you were younger. I squandered the first decade of your life to be a selfish asshole. You’re justified to hate me.” Peter sighed.
“But… I don’t hate you.” He whispered, as if it were a dirty secret. “I really don’t. Dad, you’re simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” He laughed, wetly. “Isn’t that fucked up?” Tony didn’t reply, but placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “It would be a lot easier if I just… if I did hate you. I want to hate you. Because you fucking suck. But also… you don’t. Because I remember when I was twelve and you booked out Disney World for my birthday. I remember when I was thirteen and you held my glasses while I got sick in the bathroom at that one Italian place. I remember when I was fourteen and I got my powers and you had to install a vibranium door handle in my room. I remember when I was fifteen and I died and when I came back you had kept everything I owned and had it set up here, waiting for me. So I can’t hate you, after all.” By the end of Peter’s ruminations, his eyes were more than a little wet, and so were Tony’s.
“Bambino.” Tony said, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple. “I just wish I could restart my life as a father and take all this pain away. I’m sorry that your sister gets to experience a childhood completely different from yours- it’s not fair to you. But I can’t go back in time and- and fix everything.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Peter said, turning over so that Tony could see his face. Tony brushed a curl out of his eyes.
“So… what’s that boy’s name?” He said, cracking a smirk.
“Charlie. He’s- he’s cute, right?” Tony sighed.
“I don’t think you two should see each other again. He’s the one supplying you with the- the drugs and alcohol, right? Because you sure as hell don’t have a fake ID.” Peter thought about what he should respond with for a moment, before nodding slightly.
“Yeah. You’re right. I shouldn’t.” Peter said, closing his eyes wearily. Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Because after today, he didn’t know if he had the courage to say no to anything Peter wanted ever again.
“Listen, baby. I’m gonna let you sleep, but we’re talking more about this later. And I’m contacting your old therapist- you need a real outlet to talk to about stuff like this, not just your dad.” Peter didn’t respond, already having knocked himself off. It was best for him to sleep off the high. Tony got up and watched his son sleep for a few moments, before turning out the lights, and hoping that tomorrow would bring better days.