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Playground

Chapter 1: Tony

In some imagined future, several years after Avengers: Infinity War...

Tony waved goodbye to the Dominican nanny and the little boy she was pushing in the stroller, barely even noticing how breathtakingly hot she was.

Okay, so he noticed.

He was married, not dead, as the saying went.

Look, don't touch, as the other saying went.

He settled back on the bench, straightening his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankle, stretching his arms out along the back of the bench. Work didn't drive him like it used to, and he didn't even miss it.

This was the life. The sun warmed his face, and in his jeans, vintage Ms. Pac-Man T-shirt – a gift from his little Pumpkin – and sunglasses, he could relax in anonymity, or as close as he ever got to it anymore. After all, unless you were a connoisseur you couldn't know at a glance that his tennis shoes were custom-made and cost just shy of eight hundred dollars, or that they were on the feet of Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, philanthropist. No, not a playboy anymore. Tony was solidly a one-woman man now. Well, two-woman man, if you wanted to be nit-picky about it.

It hadn't been easy, in the beginning. He'd had his moments of nerves, sure – nerves and spine-crushing fear – but when it came right down to it, he knew what he wanted, and he was ready. He wanted Pepper at his side 'til death do them part, and he wanted a family of their own. But man oh man was he not ready. He knew babies couldn't control their bodily functions. He knew they woke up all hours of the night, he knew they screamed a lot. Knowing it intellectually and experiencing it were two different things. If the health of a set of lungs could be correlated with the volume and length of the sounds that came out of them, that kid had the healthiest set of lungs of all kids in the history of kids. Pepper had struggled with postpartum depression and a see-saw of emotions – yeah, his little Pumpkin was on the see-saw now – over juggling the work she didn't want to give up and the baby she wanted to stay home with. Tony had vomited the first time he changed the kid's diaper.

Things had been strained between them for a little while, both of them sleep-deprived and struggling to adapt to parenting – a way harder job than he'd expected – but one night when Pepper came back to bed from feeding their bottomless-pit-stomach baby again…well. If he hadn't known for sure he was in it for keeps before, he did after that.

"We shouldn't have done it. It was selfish. Stupid."

Something like that. And so much more.

"I can't do this. I'm a failure. Some women aren't meant to be mothers."

He'd been too tired, both physically and emotionally, to argue, too tired to stop her. Too tired to do anything but hold her and cry. And at some point, he'd started talking, too. Confessing all his own fears and worries, some of which he'd never before put into words, even inside his own head.

"What kind of example am I for a kid? Nobody should grow up to be like me. I'm selfish and I can be kind of a jerk and I like big open spaces because my ego needs the room. What if I turn into my father? What if I never turn into a father, period? I'm like an overgrown kid myself and diapers are so blech."

They'd cried more, held each other more, and it was the most unsexy – snot, gross – and most incredibly intimate thing he'd ever experienced.

"You're an amazing mother. You know that little lullaby you sing, the one where she usually quiets down and looks right into your eyes? I can see how much you love her, and how much she loves you. Melts my heart, babe. My muscles and bones, too. Seriously. I have to peel myself up from the floor after I've congealed into a semi-solid again."

"You're so disgusting," she said back, hoarse throat, red swollen eyes, snotty nose, lips pulling into a hint of a smile, chest trembling with laughter struggling to make it out. "Do you really think I'm a good mother?"

Tony would never forget it. The fear in her face. The vulnerability. He'd had no idea she truly doubted that.

"Babe, you are an incredible mother. I know how tired you are, and no matter what time it is, you're always ready with the good stuff. I feel like all I do is sit around and whine, and you're still running the company and being a mom, and…and you did that. That gorgeous little girl in there? All I did was provide some seasoning. You did that. You leave me in awe."

"That's not all you did. That's not all you do. You're an amazing father, Tony. You're not selfish at all. The way you are with her, I've never seen anybody be so selfless. She brings out a whole new side of you."

They'd talked until they fell asleep, Tony's big spoon to Pepper's little spoon.

And things got better.

Not overnight, but they got there.

Pepper was right, their little Peach Buns – Pepper got onto him for calling their daughter that but he did anyway sometimes, when Pepper wasn't around – had made him selfless, at least when it came to his little Tooter. Pepper got onto him for that one, too, but Pepper wasn't the boss of him – his company, yes, him, no. No, their little Munchkin – Pepper-approved – held that title.

The heavens had burst open and the sun had shone right on his little Angel – also Pepper-approved – the moment that one little syllable, repeated five times instead of two, came out of her mouth. She was looking at a spoon she'd knocked from her tray – deliberately, the little rascal – onto the floor when she said it, but that didn't matter.

"Da-da." ("Da-da-da-da-da.")

Tony's heart had exploded and gushed more love than he'd known it was possible for a single heart to contain and if her next words had been "I want a unicorn with pink fur" he would have raced off to bioengineer one for her right then and there. Instead, when he picked her up to nuzzle her nose and tell her how brilliant she was and yes he was her da-da, she blew air bubbles and spat mushy carrot at him. And he didn't even care.

Ah, the good old days. Tony chuckled. No, the post-potty-training period was way better. He could have real conversations with his Pumpkin now, and she was by far the most interesting person he'd ever met. She was smart as a whip. As opinionated as her mother and as throw-caution-to-the-wind as her father, not a good thing, actually, how fearless that little thrill-seeker was. She thought store-bought toys were boring, made for unfortunate kids whose daddies didn't know how to help them build their own exactly the way they wanted them. Her dollhouse had electricity, a working elevator, a garage filled with a voice-programmable vintage car collection, and a configurable race track. She had recently decided she wanted to add a farm to go with the house, and had given him a list of animals she wanted to include. She already had the hang of basic 3D-modeling, so after playground-lunch-nap – yes, both of them – they would pick up where they'd left off designing the sheep.

Not a shy one, his girl, he thought with a smile as he watched her get off the see-saw and grab onto the hand of the boy who'd been on the other end of it, practically dragging him along until he got with the program and decided to obey orders, which apparently were to join her on the little jungle gym of a house with rope stairs, regular stairs, and two slides connecting it to the ground. She was going to be a real force of nature when she hit her teens. Tony didn't like to think about it. Nope, she could stay four forever and Tony would be quite happy with that. Even sending her to school was going to kill him. Her, too. She would be bored to tears. But he and Pepper couldn't decide if they wanted to give her the typical education Tony never had, which might be better for her social development, or accelerate it with a customized private education, which might be better for keeping her engaged in learning.

He snickered watching his girl slowly crab-crawl her way backwards up the rope ladder. Because of course doing it the regular way would be boring. The boy scrambled up after her, on the side along the outer frame of the rope stairs, wrapping his legs around it, feet somehow finding the rope at the awkward angle. Maybe all kids were weird and hard-headed, and not just his. His was still the best, though, clearly. It wasn't even a competition.

"Be careful, kids!" some lady called over from the slide, where she was holding onto a toddler too scared to go down. The boy's mother, probably. Tony rolled his eyes. His girl was fine thank you very much, hands solidly on the rope rungs behind her as she climbed and finally reached the top. The first time his Pumpkin had encountered a slide? She'd shoved Da-da's hands out of the way and slid down like a winter Olympian on a luge. Pepper had disputed that description, but Tony would die on that hill.

He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the Munchkin's feat, but just one other person was looking her way – one of the few other men at the playground. Even the woman with the scaredy-cat toddler wasn't paying attention anymore. Their loss.

Bored with the tree house already – she did bore easily, but Tony could relate, so did he – his little girl was now running over to the rocking horses, classic playground spring riders; her new friend was leading the way this time. As his eyes followed her over to the rocking camel she chose, he again noticed the man, standing between him and his daughter. That guy's head turned as she passed by. Watching her.

Tony sat up straight, arms coming to his sides, legs bending to stand. That man was watching his little girl. The other kid's mom was still preoccupied with her younger one and hadn't noticed.

Tony's eyes swept carefully over the other man from behind as he approached. The guy didn't really seem like he fit in here, and his stiff stance, the straight line of his shoulders, announced that he knew it. He wore pressed black slacks and a long-sleeved dark gray sweater with the look of fine wool despite the midday August heat, and he had a skeezy little ponytail of black hair hanging down just over the edge of the collar. The fancy clothes didn't do much to get rid of the creep-hanging-out-at-a-playground vibe the guy was oozing now that Tony was paying attention. Just made him look like a rich creep hanging out at a playground.

Stay calm. Stay calm, he warned himself. He didn't want to stay calm. Kids were here. His kid was here, and he wanted to rip that guy a new one, scare the solids right out of him so bad he never dared show his face anywhere kids were gathered ever again. But his kid was here, and he didn't want to make too much of a scene and scare her instead of the creep.

Friday would get top-notch high-res images of this chump, and Tony would make sure those images got not only to the police, but to every playground, park, school, every single building throughout New York. The state, not the city.

Still a few feet away, with Tony's eyes fixed like death rays on Stranger Danger incarnate, the guy visibly tensed. Tony prepared himself for the confrontation, or more likely since guys like this were usually cowards when they had to deal with actual adults, a chase. Screw calm. Tony wasn't going to let this guy run, not before getting those crystal-clear images at least. So he slowed, watching for what the other guy would do, ready to react.

Slowly – deceptively slowly, Tony couldn't help thinking, for the man had the physique of someone who could lay on the speed if he wanted to – the creep twisted around, feet still firmly planted on shock-absorbent playground flooring.

Tony's body reacted before his conscious brain caught up. Fists clenched at his side, breaths heavy under tightening chest. Attack mode instincts. The actual name only surfaced when their eyes finally met.

Loki.

Loki was stalking his kid. Calling the Avengers flashed through his mind, but the idea was dismissed before being fully formed. This was Loki, and this was personal.

Oh, this is so personal, he thought, hand twitching, ready to bring out the nanotech gauntlets, as Loki had the gall to turn around and look at his little girl again. She was talking to the other kid, thankfully oblivious to what was going on a couple dozen feet away.

"Hey," Tony called, close enough now to speak in a normal voice, no shouting. "Eyes right here, low-life."

"Tony," Loki said, turning to face him fully now. "I wish I could say this was a pleasant surprise. In fact, I wish I could say it was a surprise at all."

Loki was calm, his voice quiet. That was fine with Tony. If he had to fight, he would. But under the circumstances, he infinitely preferred sending Loki packing without it. There weren't many people around anymore – it was lunchtime and hot – but there were a few, and most importantly one of them was his little girl.

"No, I'd say it was pretty obvious. Whatever evil plan was behind you showing up here today? Worst plan you've ever had in your long miserable life, and you've had some real doozies of dumb evil plans. So if you don't want to be blasted out of the state, I strongly suggest, no, let's go ahead and say I insist you pack it up and leave here of your own free will while you still have it."

"I have a right to come here as much as anyone else, Stark," Loki rumbled in a deep voice, almost a growl. The guy's false politeness sure hadn't lasted long. "You know that I was pardoned here due to my role in defeating Thanos."

"Yep. Doesn't mean you get to creep on people's kids. Thought that was kinda clear from, you know, a basic human decency standpoint. Oh, wait, you're not human, are you? Maybe you never picked up human decency, or any other kind. But Lesson One? You don't mess with kids. Period. Got it? Now beat it."

Tony watched as Loki's mouth worked but never formed words. His eyes were hidden behind heavily-tinted sunglasses, but most importantly, his legs weren't moving.

"You seem indecisive. It's not that complicated. But if you need help deciding, trust me, I'm fully prepared to help. I'd just prefer not to have to do that kind of helping around kids. See? Basic human decency."

"You have no understanding of the concept," Loki snapped. "But because I do not wish any children to come to harm because of your arrogance, we will leave. And you had best stay away. I will not always be so accommodating."

"We? Who's this 'we'? You don't seriously think you're taking anyone here with you."

Loki stepped forward, pulled off his glasses, and holy reindeer, Rudolph was tall. He extended a finger and touched Tony's chest and Tony thought maybe he wasn't going to let Loki leave with that finger, either.

"If you try to interfere with me in any way I will ensure your suffering knows no bounds. There exist lines that must not be crossed, Stark, and you are treading dangerously close to one of them right now."

"Okay, I always thought you were a little bit nuts but now I think you must have lost whatever marbles you still had rattling around in your skull. Do you honestly think I would not 'interfere' with you on this? Move on, Loki. If I see you again I'll shoot first and ask questions later."

"You are a despicable, self-righteous, heartless-"

If Loki kept talking, Tony didn't hear it. All he heard was his little girl's scream. And it hadn't come from the direction of the rocking horses where she'd just been.

"Morgan!" he shouted, taking off at a run in the general direction of the voice he'd know anywhere, in any form. Distraction, he kept thinking. It was all a distraction, and I couldn't shut up, and it worked, and if anything happens to her… Gut-wrenching half-formed images filled his mind's eye but he wasn't going to be distracted again. He saw her now, close enough that he didn't bother with the suit and flying. She was on the ground, under a tree, no one else around except for that same little boy she'd been playing with earlier, who was now crouched over her.

"What happened, Pumpkin? Are you okay?" he asked, eyes jumping back and forth from his bawling little girl to scanning the surroundings for signs of danger. Like Loki, who had just run up beside him and was now attempting to herd the boy away.

Tony straightened up as much as he could while keeping a hand firmly on Morgan's shoulder. "Get your hands off…"

The words faded as Tony got a good look at the boy for the first time. Straight black hair, brown eyes, and by God that was Loki's nose and chin.

"My own son?" Loki asked, and Tony wouldn't have been at all surprised had that tongue dripped literal acid.

Notes

No connection to any of my other stories, other than the same general understanding of the characters. Four chapters are envisioned; at the time of this chapter's release 2.5 are written. Expect the first three to come fairly quickly; they make a whole pretty much on their own. Chapter 4 may come with a longer delay; it's more of a coda...or something. This story came to life because someone said something about Loki and Tony and a kid on a playground. Thanks to "ildragodoro" for some help on the summary for this story when I was a bit too tired to do it on my own! Hope you enjoy.