Selfish
Tony flipped his faceplate up, a somewhat bored expression plastered on his face. The Hydra-wannabees they were fighting didn’t check one of their bombs well enough, and blew up the entire damn facility, themselves included.
Idiots.
But he was worried about Peter. He tried to keep an eye on the boy, but when the building exploded he got distracted. He got a glimpse of Peter swinging through the wreckage, but it didn’t give him much confidence.
Finally Tony spotted the boy, standing beside Steve, looking a bit worn out but still peppy. He was already heading to the quinjet, presumably by Sam’s– who he’d just been speaking to– order. Tony exhaled, a bit more relaxed. He was still going to check over the kid on the jet, but if he was still talking and walking he couldn’t be that hurt (although you never know with Peter).
Once they were sure they’d taken care of everybody, Tony finally landed.
“Steve said he wanted to talk to you.” Bucky said in a low voice, giving Tony a nod as he walked past, vibranium arm glinting.
Tony groaned, rolling his eyes. Him and Capsicle still weren’t on very good terms. He honestly liked Bucky more– at least he knew what he did was wrong and didn’t act like such a pretentious prick about it. Rogers never dropped the stupid ‘righteous’ act and it was really pushing Tony over the edge.
“FRI, is everybody else on the jet?”
“No, boss, Clint Barton is currently on the ground but is moving toward the quinjet. Everyone else is aboard.”
“Peter’s on there?”
“Yes, boss. He is currently sitting down. I believe he is fatigued.”
“Yeah, he looked pretty beat. Thanks, FRI.”
With a quick gesture, Tony retracted his suit a few paces away from the opening of his jet. By the time he was standing on the metal floor, his suit was fully off and he was cracking his neck.
He found Steve not long after the jet had shot into the air, the low rumble of the engine echoing throughout the interior. He wasn’t really looking for him, even though the Manchurian Candidate had told him he wanted to talk. He simply didn’t care to engage with the geezer. Peter was the one he was actually trying to find, and he did find him. But unfortunately, Rogers was hanging around in there as well.
“Metal-Arm told me you had something to say?”
“Stark.”
“Rogers.” Tony said mockingly.
Steve took a deep, performative (and annoying) breath.
“Can you just get on with it, old ass?”
“Why the hell did you enlist a child to fight with us?” He asked, arms crossed, “Are you insane, Stark?”
“Wow, language.” Tony joked, trying to cover his internal panic. “What are you going on about, Rogers?”
“I saw spider-thing without his mask. He’s a goddamn teenager.”
Tony stiffened, and his gaze turned stormy.
“Spider-man is just as capable as you are, Rogers. He is working under me.” Tony replied, gritting his teeth but keeping his cool. The man was already pissing him off– what was his beef with the kid?
“So that was your back-up? Some 15 year old kid you’re using to do your dirty work? Are you kidding me, Tony?” Steve replied, his implication making Tony seethe.
“Oh, yeah, ‘cause you’re so damn holy. And I’m not using anybody–”
“Oh please, that’s all you ever do. Genius, Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; right? You do what you want, how you want, because you’re Tony Stark, the almighty.” Rogers rolled his eyes like a petulant child, mocking Tony.
“I do what I want? I’m sorry, who’s the one that wouldn’t sign the Accords? Who’s the one that was an international fugitive? Because it sure as hell wasn’t me, Rogers.” Tony jabbed a finger at the man, his voice thick with sarcasm to hide his bubbling rage.
“Oh yes, you played right into the government's hand, how very noble of you. Face it, Stark– You’re selfish. You are a selfish, immature asshole who does whatever he can to benefit himself, no matter who gets hurt.”
“If anyone here is selfish it’s you. I was a weapons dealer for two decades, creating technology that ruined the lives of the innocent for money. But you know what I did when I realized what I was doing? I stopped. Because I can take responsibility and understand that my actions are bigger than myself.” Tony took a step closer, his words laced with more anger than sarcasm now. “Is that what you would call selfish, Rogers? Since, of course, the international fugitive is the oracle of morality.”
“So dragging in a child to fight your battles is selfless? Some heroic act, where Tony Stark helps some struggling kid? Because it’s not. I don’t care what web of lies you convinced that kid of, but you know that what you are doing is wrong. You are making a child do your dirty work. You will make this child see horrors and experience things he never should, just to have another person to fight for you. Does that sound like something a hero would do, Tony?”
The words sliced through Tony, but only anger seeped out of the fresh wound.
“Because you’re such a hero, aren’t you, Rogers? You and your little fucking friend– what heroes you two are!”
“Don’t bring him into this, Stark–”
“Why? Because you know that what he did was wrong, but you can’t fucking admit it? Or-Or is it because he’s the one that Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, couldn’t save?” Tony spat, forgetting his previous coolness in an instant.
“Because you have a great track record of saving people, don’t you?” Steve fired back immediately, his usual cadence melted away, engulfed by rage, “Your parents, Pepper, Rhodey– what a wonder you are at protecting people, huh? So, of course, dragging a child into an Avengers fight–”
“STOP FUCKING CALLING HIM A CHILD.” Tony snapped, yelling louder than the engines. “He's twice the hero your sorry ass could ever dream of being. You are nothing but a petulant brat, a poser, and a science experiment, and you will never be anything more than that.”
“And you know who made that experiment?” Tony felt his breath hitch in his throat. “Yourfather. Is that what you’re doing to this kid, Tony? Molding him into your little creation, giving him false hope and promises, just to rip it all away when you inevitably get him killed with your incompetence–” Tony’s arm flew up and he bawled his hand into a fist.
“Mr. Stark, Stop–” Peter cried, the frailness in his voice enough to get Tony to tear his eyes away from Steve.
Peter sharply cut off, as if the words had been stolen off of his tongue. A strange, ghostly look flashed over his eyes and his shoulders went limp. Tony just then noticed the large crimson stain blending in with the red fabric of his suit. Tony just then noticed how pale the boy’s face was. But he didn’t notice it in time to catch Peter when his body gave out and he collapsed.
“Oh god–” Steve muttered.
THUD.
Steve crumpled under Tony’s punch, not prepared for the impact in the slightest.
Maybe Tony would’ve liked the feeling. Maybe he would’ve liked to see that asshole of a man on the ground. Maybe he would’ve enjoyed that punch after all the shit the man had been spouting.
But he couldn’t. Because his kid was hurt because he was too involved in his own drama to check on him.
Because he was selfish.
Because he had failed his kid.