"I still don't understand why I had to come." Peter frowned as the pair of you walked in through his and May's apartment door.
You rolled your eyes at him as you came to a stop just before the sofa. "It's simple. I needed someone with me who wasn't Tony, Steve or Bucky or anyone who'd rat me out the minute we were done."
"And how do you know I won't rat you out?" He asked pushing his chest out making you laugh at him. "What?" He frowned.
"Please. I know you respect Tony and fear Bucky, but you're scared of me more."
"How so?" He challenged, squinting his eyes as he looked at you.
"I work on your suit. Piss me off and I'd have the thing overheating and cooking you on the inside like a baked potato." You teased him, giggling at the worried look on his face. "I'm joking, Peter." You said as you sat down.
Peter nodded slowly, joining you on the sofa. "Oh-okay," He cleared his throat. "But, all we did was go through some hospital records. Couldn't we just have used FRIDAY?"
"No, Peter, we couldn't. One, she doesn't have every known record uploaded to her system, especially maternity files from 30 years ago and two, she'd rat me out." You let out a small sigh as you looked down the manilla folder in your hand.
"What's going on, Y/N? You're never this secretive, especially with Mister Stark. Are you in trouble?" He asked, clearly worried about you.
You shook your head with a warm smile. "No, Peter, I'm not in trouble."
"Then what is it?"
What is it? You weren't sure what it was. Something Tony had said had been bothering you, causing you to lose sleep due to overthinking until you decided you were going to look into it. It, you wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Tony, said something to me the other week, you know at that function thing?" You paused to look at him, continuing when he nodded. "Well, it's been bugging me," You began to pull the file apart. "We were talking about my mother and what have you and, then he said I was born eight weeks early--but, nowhere, does it say or do I even remember hearing about me being born eight weeks early!"
"Maybe he got it wrong." Peter shrugged as he began looking at the paperwork in front of you.
You nodded. "Hmm, maybe. Tony isn't exactly spokesman for pregnancy, is he?" The two of you giggled. "That thought had crossed my mind. But, I was still curious, you know?"
"Sure."
"So, I remembered I did this family project when I was like, I dunno, fifteen or something-- I got this from it," You held up and ultrasound picture, letting Peter have a closer look. "Look at the weeks,"
"36?" He shrugged. "I have no clue-"
You shook your head laughing. "It's the last ultrasound you have before the baby comes. It means I was definitely not eight weeks early."
"So, Tony was wrong?"
You sighed shaking your head. "I thought so, but then I remembered something else," You opened your bag and pulled out a dairy. "Mom kept a diary whilst her and dad were trying to get pregnant, you know, track periods, ovulation and what have you. I dunno why, I guess, it took them a while, or something," You shrugged. "Anyway, I looked back over it and look- my birthday, marked 39 weeks... Then, 'my due date'... If I was eight weeks early, I would have been born at 32 weeks, I wasn't..." You said pointing to the 36 weeks ultrasound.
Peter stared at everything in silence before shaking his head. "What are you saying? She lied?" You shrugged. "But why would she lie?"
You let out a big sigh handing him another diary. "That's my dad's diary, from the same year, he always kept them because he wrote notes in for work... Look at the date for when I was conceived. What's it say?"
Peter picked the diary up and began to look. "Hmm... DC."
You nodded. "And the date before." You looked at him.
"Meeting in DC at noon." He frowned slightly.
"And, the date after?"
"DC." He shrugged looking up. "Wait- How can your dad- I- What does that mean?"
You let out another sigh. "That, he was in Washington DC at the time, I was conceived." Peter stared up at you with wide eyes. You nodded. "Yeah, I know. Daddy ain't mine." You sat back. "And that's not the cherry on top."
Peter frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I found this letter, to my mom in my dad's things, look-" You pulled it out of the back of your 'dads' diary and pointed to who it was from. "-Tony."
"Mr. Stark?"
Emily,
Please believe me when I say this is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. Know I love you, I always have. I wish I could be the one to call you wife but I'm not. What we shared, was special, even if it was one night. It can never happen again, my love, it's for the best. You deserve a happy life, with George and, your baby.
I'm sorry. I love and miss you.
Tony x
"What the fu-"
"I KNOW!" You nodded standing up, your hands flying up in the air. You let out a deep breath. "May got any booze? I need a drink."
"Oh, yeah, kitchen," He pointed, re-reading the letter. "This is so, weird man, I mean-" Peter's cell ringing stopped him midsentence. "Oh, Mr. Stark is-" Peter's eyes widened as he stared at the picture of Tony's caller ID before glancing over to where you were in the kitchen. It hit him. "OHMYGOD!" He called out and jumped up, scaring you in the process.
"WHAT?"
"Your dad!" He shouted as he held his cell out, Tony's face flashing up.
"What are you-" Your eyes widened as you caught on to what he was saying. "OHMYGOD!" You shouted, letting go of the bottle of wine you'd found, it and it's contents smashing across the tiled floor. "TONY'S MY DAD!" You cried. "How? I mea-"
Peter stood in silence as he watched you pace the living room, muttering none-sense to yourself. He noticed his cell had stopped calling so he stepped forwards, reaching a comforting hand out to place on your arm only to stop.
"Y/N-" Peter let out a gasp, his hand grabbing at his hair in pain. "What the-"
You noticed Peter's discomfort, forgetting your minor 'mid-life' crisis. "Peter? What's wrong?" You asked, taking a hold of his arm. "Peter?"
He shook his head before turning to face the door behind him. "I'm not sure."
