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Tony plucked a tearful Tibby out of his co-sleeper bassinet and cradled the tiny boy close in his arms, shushing him when it was plain that the baby only craved the warmth and attention of his 'mother.' What Peter had told Bruce and that he had then passed on to Tony when they were all in Italy what seemed such a short time ago, was finally sinking in. Knowing that their eldest son didn't see them as his parents was more of a hurt and a shock than Tony could wrap his head around. Since then, he'd avoided Peter as much as possible, wanting desperately to talk to him, to sort this all out, but having neither the courage nor the fortitude to do so. Instead, he clung to the innocent adoration in his Tiberius' bright, blue-green eyes, silently wishing he could make everything that much better, trying to remember a time when Peter might have looked at him in a similar way.

There was nothing more terrible and more terrifying in his mind than becoming like the male role models he'd grown up. Tony may have shared some of his father's physical traits, but he strove with all his heart to be nothing like the man, especially when it came to his own children. The engineer told them all that he loved them, as often as he could manage, and he meant it. He cared deeply about everyone in his family, blood-related or not.

Trying to clear his fogged head, Tony sat down on the edge of the bed with his tiny son and rocked him lightly, kissing his forehead and singing a soft Italian lullaby. The inventor barely noticed that he'd left the bedroom door open, so it was a surprise when Rosie peeked in and spoke up. Tony glanced toward the door and nodded his head for his adopted daughter to have a seat with him.

"Yep, for sure. You hit the nail on the head, angelface."

Hello new followers :3

I should greet you more often. I know. I'm sorry.

Ehehe.

Tony tucked a finally tiring Tiberius into his bassinet. It was early, daytime, and he had been up almost all night yet again. The large, blue-green eyes staring up at him weren't enough to get through, they never were. He thought, believed, that after the baby was born he would still love him with all his heart, but for some reason, Tony just felt... empty. He kept a fantastic mask, being perfectly nice around visitors and around Bruce, even, but it had just kept getting worse and worse.

The inventor padded out of the nursery and went downstairs to his workshop, intent on finding some way, any way, to drown out the lifeless feeling and maybe get back something of the happiness and excitement he remembered from before.

The music was turned on, but kept low and quiet. After all, who would want to know he felt this badly, especially regarding his own son, and he knew... if Bruce heard it, he would come running and so might someone else. Tony didn't want that. He worked half-heartedly on one of the newer car engines, something simple. Everything might have carried on as it was, except when one of the bolts came loose and fell to the floor, Tony had to kneel down to find it.  

Instead of getting back up once he had retrieved the small attachment, the last of the stubborn inventor's energy went out the window and he curled up, sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees. 'Have to get up, have to stop being such a wuss, what the hell is wrong with you?...' The thoughts repeated over and over through his mind, leaving a firmer impression each time. Instead of making him stronger or making it any easier, though, they were just cause to become even more wracked with guilt. Now he couldn't even act like a normal, healthy person, let alone a good parent.

Are you guys lost? can I help direct you to a quality Bruce blog? 

I know a bunch.