Tom Stark-Malfoy

Draco / Tom P.O.V.

I always thought tiny families were the only families meant for me. But I suddenly got a huge makeshift family, and surprisingly, I find it more acceptable than I initially thought I would have. No wonder the weasels were always so loud. You can't help but BE loud if you were surrounded by people you want to talk with.

I'm not a people person, I never really had friends, I had subordinates. But there's something about everyone here (all squeezed into a few floors) which made me different. I don't like many people, but it was as if Merlin had blessed me with all the luck of a dragon and put the 0.0000001% of people on Earth I actually like, into a single building.

That is. . . except for morning. Everyone is very annoying on mornings.

Pepper P.O.V.

"Tony~ Tom~."

". . . "

"Tony. Tom."

My calls were met with nothing but an even longer response of silence. I couldn't help the dreaded feeling rising up and engulfing my heart. Images of the terrible bombing at the mansion flash through my eyes. All the times I woke up only to find out that Tony disappeared again from the morning newspaper. And. . . And Tom.

The same panic I felt after waking up in the hospital only to find out that the boy was just like his father. I cried and ran around the hospital like a mad-woman. I called every police station to go look for him but none availed to anything. It was like he vanished into thin air.

Just like. . . Just like his father. I don't know how I stay sane. But I can't start panicking now. I ȧssured myself, that just like his father, Tom will also be upstairs. I honestly don't know how they do it. But they will appear in front of me as if they never disappeared, safe and sound. I don't need to worry. They're safe.

I stand in front of the door to Tony's room. I glance at Tom's room, wanting to wake him up first but I knew I couldn't open his door. I've tried in the past, but only Tony could open his door. So I guess Tom still doesn't trust me. I felt a pang in my ċhėst, but I quickly forget it. Tom needs his space, especially after what happened. And if its his father he wants to help him recover, I wont slow down his progress by barging into his space.

Heart pounding in my ċhėst. Gathering up my courage, I turn the knob. Hearing the *click* sound, I push it open. And what greeted me lifted some of my worries.

"Tony! Up! It's already past 10, I've been calling you both down for hours now."

"--- min--."

"What?"

"5 more minutesss."

*sigh* I could bȧrėly hear him say a comprehensible slurred sentence. What am I supposed to do about this overgrown man-child? . . . But I still cant help the small smirk that tugged on the corner of my lips.

"Up!"

I dragged him by his ankles and pulled him half-way out of bed.

"Uurrghhhghg-" .

"Stop groaning and get out of bed. Breakfast's ready and if you don't get up, it will get cold."

". . . Uuuughhhhgrrr."

I turned on my heel and left him to get up on his own. If he knows what's good for him, he will.

After a few minutes of waiting, having served all the pancakes and bacon on five sets of tableware (excluding Natasha and Steve since they are the most responsible of the group and got up hours ago.) half of the avengers trickled into the dining room after pressing the wake up buŧŧon minutes ago. Good. Only two people left.

"You made lunch? Sweet. Thanks again Pepper." "Oh? Pancakes. Thank you Ms. Potts."

"It's no problem, and its breakfast Clint. And please, just call me Pepper Bruce, everyone's already been calling me that for months."

"It's already grown on me, but I supposed there's no harm done if I switch now."

Finally, after the two were settled down, Tony dragged his feet into the room. His bed hair was quite the sight.

"Would you be a dear and go get Tom?"

". . . . urgh. Why does he get to wake up latest?"

"Because he has emphasized that he is a 'growing' boy, and doesn't want females in his room lest I cramp his style. You know how puberty works, now go be a dear and go get him."

"Okay. Tooooommm. TToooooooooommmm.~ *yawn*" I hear his say in a sleepy sing song voice as he slowly gets further.

I turned away to hide the grin that made its way to my face. It's adorable to see him acting like such a baby in the morning or. . . noon.

But I should have known better. My amusement slowly turned into annoyance when a couple of seconds slowly turned into 20 full minutes. What's taking them so long?

I irritably got up from my chair and stormed up the stairs into Tom's room.

"Why are you both not up yet?"

All my anger instantly vanished at seeing Tony curled up in bed next to his son, who bore the greatest scowl a sleeping child could ever make while desperately tugging on the blanket (a futile attempt as it was trapped under Tony's weight).

Both Tony and Tom lay sprawled out on the bed in equally uncomfortable positions but somehow little Tom's sleeping posture seems more regal / posh than his fathers. It's a very strange scene, as it seems very uncomfortable, but perfect and calming at the same time. I could feel a small smile grace my lips; It is times like these that makes all my worry seem pointless. They'll both be just fine; afterall, they're both strong boys.

Little Tom lifts his blanket over his head in the cutest way imaginable and Tony gives the most unpleasant grumbling noise, reminiscent of his worst hangovers. But I knew he no longer had hangovers, not since he started spending more time with his son.

I accidentally let out a chuckle and shook my head.

I really should have known better than to send a lazy man to wake up his equally as lazy son, both desperately gripping onto the blanket. To all the mothers out there, reading this fanfic, never underestimate the power of the sleep coercion of a child! (as well as their ability to magically transfer grocery bags into your hand. I was truly amazed the last time we three went out grocery shopping, and all the grocery bags ȧssigned to him made its way into my hands. Though, he insisted that I took it from him, which couldn't possibly be true. But in the end, it was Tony who carried everything until we got to the car.)

"Up!"

I hold onto Tony's ankles and pull him until his legs were dangling off the side of the bed. Then I gently pat the head of blond hair that was peaking past the blankets.

"Come on Tom. Rise and shine, it's time to wake up! I made your favorite. Pancakes and bacon."

". . ."

"*whisper* okay."

I smile at his adorable response, and pat his head once more while brushing a few stray strands to behind his ear.

"Now go wash up."

I swear, If I weren't there, they would starve to death in bed! Tom wasn't like this before though. He always used to be such a punctual child.. It must be Tony's influence.