New MCU Ficlet: The Deep End (PG-13)

Summary:

It felt like he was sucking the air in through a straw, but Tony obeyed his interior Dr. Nolan. Once. Twice. Three times. He shook. He ran through complex physics equations in his head as Morgan shrieked.

He didn’t have this. He didn’t have this at all. He was miles away from being ready.

And worse? He was completely on his own.

--*--

Welcome to fatherhood, Tony Stark!

--*--

Introductory Notes:

This teeny ficlet was inspired by something that actually happened to my dad shortly after I was born — though in his case, Mom was rushed to the hospital with a kidney stone, not appendicitis.

Once again, I've assigned this a Teen/PG-13 rating for the language.

Hope you enjoy!

--*--

The Deep End 

Tony thought he was ready. 

Parenting books had replaced his usual heavy metal tinkering soundtrack for months now. For fuck’s sake, he’d even secretly practiced some things on a baby doll so he could surprise Pepper with his competence. There was no way in hell he was going to be that sort of daddy, he’d concluded at the time. He wasn’t going to end up trending on social media because he’d accidentally put his daughter’s diaper on backwards or something equally stupid. He was going to be prepared.

In his arms, Morgan howled at the top of her lungs, her face tomato-red and wet, as Tony fumbled to fill a pot with water one-handed. “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, dear. I’ve got this.”

Fill the pot with a few inches of water. Set the stove on low. Make sure the water doesn’t start boiling while the bottle’s warming. Test the milk on your wrist before you give it to the kid. It was easy. Tony had already done it more than once so Pep could get some real sleep. Sure: this time around, his entire body was humming with anxious electricity, perspiration prickling on the back of his neck. But no matter what, he couldn’t let the panic win. Right now, he needed to be stronger.

“I’ve got this,” Tony said again. “I’ve got this.” And if he was repeating that more to reassure himself than to reassure the six-day-old baby he carried, well — nobody needed to know that but him, right?

Tony lifted the pot from the sink and turned to carry it to the stove. But almost as soon as his left hand had taken on its new burden, pain zinged from his shoulder down along his median nerve and into his fingers. Involuntarily, he dropped the precious water with a clatter, moisture splattering his pajama pants.

“Fuck!” The shout echoed through the empty house, and Tony immediately wished he could snatch it from the aether and crush it back into his throat. He’d been trying to clean up his language, damn it. He really had. But at this rate, Morgan was going to end up with a mouth even a drunken sailor would envy — and it would be all his fault.

No. Stop. Take a deep breath. It felt like he was sucking the air in through a straw, but Tony obeyed his interior Dr. Nolan. Once. Twice. Three times. He shook. He ran through complex physics equations in his head as Morgan shrieked.

He didn’t have this. He didn’t have this at all. He was miles away from being ready.

And worse? He was completely on his own.

--*--

“Honey?” 

Tony peeked around the door just in time to see Pepper lose what little ginger ale she’d managed to drink in the past hour with a splash. He winced sympathetically, then swallowed hard against his own rising gorge.

Shuffling into the bathroom, Tony knelt down beside his wife and brushed her hair out of the way. “Canada Dry’s a no go, huh?” He rubbed a gentle hand down Pepper’s back, frowning at how hot she felt beneath her t-shirt.

“Ugh,” was Pepper’s only response before she was strangled by another clearly agonizing retch.

“Want me to make the call?” After almost twelve hours of this, Tony was starting to worry Pep’s “bug” was much more serious than they had first thought. Shit, she couldn’t even sit up straight without suppressing a cry of pain.

Pepper coughed weakly, her arms quivering where they rested on the toilet seat. God, she was pale. In fact, save for the bright spots of fever that sat on her cheeks, she was white as a sheet.

Yep, he was done. Tony was calling 911.

--*--

It was bad timing. Terrible timing. 

The moment the local ambulance had pulled out of their driveway, Morgan had woken up for one of her regular feedings. And that’s how Tony ended up on the edge of a full-fledged freak-out in the middle of his kitchen.

As he switched to mentally reciting the base pair sequence of the string bean genome, Tony felt something trickle down his chin — and tasted iron. Apparently, he’d bitten down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Calm down, Shellhead. You’re not actually alone. Think.

Hap was in L.A. It would take him too long to get here even with the company jet. But maybe —

“FRI?” Tony called, his voice high and tight. “Get Rhodey on the line if you can.” And then, as he carefully knelt down to swipe at his mess with a dish towel, he hoped like hell that Honeybear was at the compound — and not in East Bumfuck on a mission for Nat.

As Tony waited for the connection to go through, his heart hammered in his ears - lub dub lub dub lub dub - like a hyperactive drummer.

“Damn, Tones. I’m guessing fatherhood isn’t working out like you hoped?”

Tony sank onto his ass and lightly thumped the back of his head against a cabinet door. “Understatement of the century.” He hugged Morgan to his chest, rocking her a little and uselessly whispering comforting nothings. “You in the neighborhood?”

“Just got back from chasing down that creepy Thanos cult in Arizona, actually.”

Tony nearly sobbed with relief — but with effort, he forced it all down and played it cool. “Any chance you’re up for a late-night visit? Kind of up shit’s creek here.”

“FRIDAY told me. I’m already in the air.”

--*--

By the time Rhodey landed with a clank on Tony’s porch, Tony had apparently managed to get his act together and actually prepare Morgan’s bottle. But he still looked like shit, his powder-blue pants damp with something or other, his eyes pink and glossy, his hair slick and spiky with flop sweat.

“Can you drive us to the ER? Got my hands full.”

“No problem.” Rhodey held out his hands. “But let me take her first so you can get some shoes on at least.” Tony looked down as if he’d just discovered he was still barefoot — and nodded, making the hand-off.

“You’re the godfather,” Tony said as he struggled into his windbreaker. “Executive decision. I’ll tell you the date once Pepper makes the arrangements.”

“Uh, okay.” Rhodey was a bit nonplussed. “You’re having her baptized?”

“Yep.” Tony yanked on his boots and started to tighten the laces. 

“Didn’t you lapse thirty-five years ago?”

Tony paused mid-tie and shrugged. “Pep thought it was a good idea. Just in case.”

“Might wanna go in your armor. You know — to dodge the lightning bolts.”

“Ha ha.” His expression wry, Tony straightened and retrieved his daughter. “Sorry, munchkin,” he mumbled as he adjusted his elbow beneath Morgan’s head. “Uncle Jimmy thinks he’s a comedian.” But Tony was breathing more easily now, so as far as Rhodey was concerned, he’d taken the right approach.

Catching the keys Tony tossed his way, Rhodey led his friend out to the car.

“Did I tell you I took Nebula out to lunch last week?” he asked once Tony and Morgan were completely buckled in.

Tony laughed. There was a note of fear in it, but at least he was no longer slumped forlornly against the window.

Be collected. Chat about bullshit. Joke around. And above all, keep Tony distracted.

--*--

One emergency appendectomy later, Tony climbed into Pepper’s hospital bed and started covering her face with kisses. One at her hair line. One on each of her eyebrows. One on the bridge of her nose. Honestly, he would’ve kept going down her neck too if Pep hadn’t stopped him.

“Is Morgan —?”

“I’ve got her, Pepper,” Rhodey piped up from the couch on the other side of the room.

“We’re good. We’re all good.” Tony snuggled into his wife’s side, pressing his face into her cotton gown. “Just rest.”

Tony had had a moment, but now all was well. Funny, that. Maybe he did have a handle on this father thing after all.