Okay. Hate was a strong word. He very much, strongly disliked holidays.
Almost as much as he hated New York traffic or Pepper telling him âNo, Tony. You can not ditch todayâs meeting to brainstorm a catchphrase. I donât care if Steve has one.â
To him, holidays were an inconvenience. Birthdays and Christmases were just another day where heâd sit opening presents, faking his reaction for some butler, while his parents were off working in a whole other continent.
Rhodey and Pepper tried to get him into the festive spirit when he was older, but it never fit. He hated being handed presents, he was terrible at gift giving himself, and, ultimately, the Birthday Song was grating.
Everyone had eventually agreed, Tony Stark didnât do holidays.
The kid never shut up about holidays. He never really shut up period, but that wasnât the point. The point was, Tony could see how Peterâs face would light up when talking about his matching costumes he and Ned had come up with for this yearsâ Halloween or the money he saved up from his internship to buy his aunt flowers for Motherâs Day.
So, when Peter cluelessly asked, What are you doing for Christmas this year, Mr. Stark?
He thought, Why not give it another shot?
He started simple. A new upgrade to Peterâs suit for his birthday, handing out Peterâs favorite candy on Halloween, even baking cookies with the kid on Christmas Eve. (Pepper and Mayâs commentary while sipping red wine across the counter an extremely unhelpful addition).
After his first year with Peter Parker, Tony Stark resigned that he would, at the very least, tolerate holidays for the kids sake, if not his own. Maybe next year, heâd even learn to like them.
Then, there was no next year.
The Blip had left Halloween haunted with real ghosts and any passing thought of Christmas sent a violent shiver down his spine.
Tonyâs hatred for holidays came back full force like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their hand, an all-too-familiar feeling.
Still, he couldnât stop. Stopping meant it was real.
Stopping meant Peter Parker was dead.
Once he got the news May was gone as well, he bought the Parkersâ apartment without a second thought.
Every birthday, he lefts cards with cash on the kitchen counter and hoped that ifâ No. When the kid came back, heâd ignore how the pen ink was smudged with the tear stains.
Every Halloween, heâd leave the light on and a bowl of candy on the welcome mat, rolling his eyes the next day when he finds the âTake Oneâ sign disregarded by some group of meddling teens.
Every Christmas, heâd buy the latest Star Wars Lego, spend way too much time making sure the stupid science pun wrapping paper looked at least decent, and leave it in Peterâs closet.
He doesnât forget May either. He buys her a new recipe book for her birthday, an ugly sweater for Christmas, and ignores the rotting feeling in his gut when he switches out last yearsâ wilting Motherâs Day flowers with this yearsâ freshly picked ones.
He remembers Peter saying her favorite were Sunflowers. He tries to remember everything.
And he never even gets the chance to tell them.
After five years, Tony Stark leaves behind a wife, a daughter, and an apartment full of lost time.
Itâs not long before the Parkers notice though. Itâs not hard to miss, really. Peter opens his closet after five years and immediately finds his own personal time capsule. Dozens of boxes left behind, some long enough to have collected layers upon layers of dust.
It takes him days to open them all. Whether that be from the actual number or the amount of times he needs to pause after he gets physically sick with grief, heâs unsure.
He doesnât miss the tear stains like Tony had hoped, nor does he miss how more signatures are gradually added to the boxes. Some only with Tonyâs initials, then âFrom: Mrs. & Mr. Potts-Starkâ, and eventually âLove, Tony & Pepperâ above a scribbled name in crown than Peter manages to make out to be âMorganâ.
Peter and May never get rid of their gifts either. Peter builds his legos with Ned, the two ignoring how the world had passed them by together. May wears her sweater to Peterâs decathlon meets, cheering extra loud for someone who never got the chance to be there.
And when Tonyâs birthday rolls around, Peter and May go shopping.
They buy him a mug. Itâs cliche, they both agree.
But, they also agree, itâs perfect.
They wrap it in Iron Man wrapping paper and even let Morgan sign it for them, her crayons now traded for glitter pens and her handwriting actually legible.
âMorgan, Peter, Pepper, & May. Love you 3000â
