Tony awoke with a groan, his head pounding. He opens his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar room. It’s dark and cold with a distinct smell of mildew. He is laying on a concrete floor, the whole room is made of the stuff. It’s like the designer has never heard of any other materials. Concrete floor, walls, and ceiling. The lights are dim and flickering, which does nothing to soothe his aching head. He reaches up to hold it when he feels resistance. He looks at his hands to see they are in metal cuffs chained to the concrete wall attached with an eye bolt embedded in it. He groans. How many times can someone get kidnapped in one lifetime? He thinks. I’m pretty sure I hold the record.
He thinks back to what he was doing before this:
(Flashback to this morning)
Tony got up for a meeting, criminally early in the morning, but Pepper threatened to have FRIDAY lock his lab for a full month if he didn’t go. Although she doesn’t know how to code and change FRIDAY’s protocols, he knows she will find a way. She is Pepper Potts after all. So he went to the boring meeting and then spent time in his lab as a treat afterward, not that he wouldn’t have been there all day anyhow if he hadn’t gone to the meeting. After drawing out a plan for some upgrades on Peter’s suit, mostly safety-related, an alarm on his Stark phone went off. It was time for him to pick Peter up from MIdtown.
Peter had permanently moved into the Tower after May got into a car crash and passed away. Peter was heartbroken and consumed with grief. Tony made sure the boy knew he wasn’t alone, even if he felt that way. How could he not? His last living relative had died and the kid wasn’t even eighteen yet. It took time and patience, but slowly Peter started to feel comfortable in the tower, started coming out of his room more, and started to smile once again. Tony was officially his legal guardian, and he was working up his courage to ask Peter if he could adopt him. It wasn’t just that Tony was nervous because he is shit at emotions, but because he wants to make sure Peter is ready and that it’s not too soon after May’s death.
Tony took his private elevator down to the garage and got into his black Audi. He drove the thirty-minute drive to Queens to pick his kid up. He arrived just as students were exiting the huge double doors in front. He got out of the car and came around to the other side to lean on the door with his arms crossed and sunglasses on as he waited for Peter’s face to appear in the swarm of teenagers exiting the building. When he spots the messy head of curls he waves. Peter waves back with a smile before turning to Ned and MJ saying his goodbyes, which include the adorably complicated secret handshake. He jogs up to Tony. “Hey Mr. Stark!” He says cheerfully before he goes in for a hug that Tony happily reciprocates.
“Hey kid, how was school?” Tony asks, breaking the embrace and heading to the driver's side as Peter gets into the passenger seat.
“Great, I got 98 on my physics test!”
Tony beams, “That’s amazing Pete. How about we go get some ice cream to celebrate.”
“Can I get three scoops of the triple fudge brownie?” Peter asks, his puppy dog eyes on full display.
Tony chuckles, “I’d be a pretty lousy mentor if I said no.”
Peter smiles as they make their way to their favorite ice cream shop. Peter rambles about his day as they drive the short distance, Tony listens and smiles fondly. As soon as they park the car, about a block away from the shop, they step out and the atmosphere changes from relaxed and comfortable to tense and fearful. Peter goes rigid as Tony makes his way around the car to him, “You okay kid?” Tony frowns, noticing the change in Peter’s stance.
“Something is wrong,” Peter states as he looks around trying to find out why his senses are screaming at him.
“What?” Tony asked, concern lacing his voice as he also starts to look around.
Peter shakes his head, he can’t see anything, “Nothing, I… I must have imagined it.” Although his senses were still going off it had gone down to a low hum at the back of his neck.
“You sure?” Tony asked, knowing that Peter’s Peter Tingle was no joke.
Peter looks around once more, but nothing is out of the ordinary, “Yeah…yeah, must have been nothing.”
Tony eyes him warily but gives a nod as they start to walk down the street. It’s when they pass an ally that Peter's sense turns from a dull hum to a piercingly painful stab. Before he can warn Tony there is a spark of orange and then they both go down like two bags of bricks as unconsciousness swallows them whole.
(End of flashback)
Peter
Tony sits up suddenly, looking around frantically, his headache forgotten. He can’t see Peter anywhere. It was then that a door opened across from him. “Where is he?!” Tony demands, not even knowing yet who is walking through the threshold.
“He’s okay, for now.” The mysterious man says. And if that isn’t menacing Tony doesn't know what is. The man is about average height, thin, with short brown hair, and brown eyes. Plain overall. He’s wearing what looks like some kind of black robe, kind of like a martial arts one.
“Where. Is. He.” Tony demands.
“He is safe, but it’s up to you whether he stays that way.” The man replies with a smile as he gets closer.
“If you lay a finger on him I swear to Thor I will-”
“What?” The man cuts him off, “You will what?” Tony glares at him. If only looks could kill. “See, from my perspective, you are the one restrained, not me.” If anything his wolfish smile gets larger.
“The Avengers will come, and they will kill you.” Tony seethes.
“Maybe, and maybe not.” The guy says smugly, crouching down to Tony’s level, “But I don’t see them here now, so it is in Peter’s best interest to give us what we want.”
“What do you want?” Tony bites out.
“Information.”
“I am a genius, so I have a lot of that. Want to be more specific?”
“Dr. Strange.”
Tony rolls his eyes, “That asshole wizard? We’re really not friends.”
“I need to know where he is.”
“As I said, Not Friends,” he emphasizes the last two words. “I don’t know and don’t care where he is.”
“You should though, Peter’s life depends on it.”
“Don’t touch him!” Tony barks, “He has nothing to do with this!”
“Oh, but he does,” The man contradicts, “beyond being an excellent incentive for you, he also knows Strange. He is Spider-Man after all.”
Tony’s eyes widen, How does he know that? A very select few know Spider-Man’s real Identity, Tony himself, Happy, Pepper, Ned, MJ, and the Avengers. “How?”
“How do we know?” The man asks rhetorically, “Doesn’t matter, all that matters is that he is trapped just like you. Not even his powers can get him out.”
Tony was counting on Peter’s strength to bust them out, now all he has is the Avengers, but who knows if they even know that Peter and him are missing. They were planning on spending almost the entire weekend in the lab and ordering pizza. There is a good chance no one will notice them gone until Monday.
“Let’s say you don’t know where Strange is.”
“I don’t,” Tony says immediately, which is the truth.
“I don’t believe you, but let's say you don’t.” The man pauses, “What do you know about the Book of Vishanti?”
“The book of what now?”
“Very funny.”
“I have no idea what the hell you're talking about!!” Tony shouts. “I don’t know what fairy tale book you and the wizard are living in, but I am not a part of it and neither is the kid!”
“I see you're going to be extra difficult.” The man waves his hands and orange sparks/circles appear. In the next moment, a portal opens, the edge of which is the same orange. It reminds him of those sparkles you get on the Fourth of July. Inside is Peter, restrained to a chair, his eyes wide and terrified and his mouth is stuffed with a dirty cloth. The guy steps through and drags the chair forward until it is on the other side of the portal, the same side Tony is on. The portal closes behind Peter.
“Let him go!”
“Tell me what I want to know.” The man says simply, a threatening hand on Peter's shoulder.
“I don’t know where Strange is and I don’t know what book you’re talking about!” His eyes stay locked on Peter’s.
“Maybe this will help jog your memory.” The man pulls a gun out of nowhere and aims it at Peter’s head. The boy’s eyes go impossibly wider as he feels the cool metal against his temple.
“Whoa whoa whoa, hold on.” Tony tries to talk the man down, his eyes now fixed on the gun.
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“I don’t know where he is or anything about the book,” his voice is dangerously low, trying to keep it level. The man cocks the gun, “But!” Tony shouts getting the man’s attention back on him, “I can try and find out.”
“Not good enough,” he shoves the gun harder against Peter’s head. The boy flinches. “I know you know.”
“I don’t! I swear!!”
“Last chance Stark.”
Tony’s eyes go back to Peter’s which are now watering with terror, “Please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t hurt him! I really don’t know!”
The man tsks, “I really thought you cared more for the boy.” His finger twitches.
“Wait!!” The man pulls the trigger. “NO!!!!” There is a deafening bang that echoes around the room. The sound would have sent pain through Peter’s sensitive ears, that is if he were alive to hear it. The kid’s head jerks to the left and then he falls forward lifeless, his chin resting on his chest as blood trickles from the new hole in his skull onto his jeans. The light blue material now a dark reddish brown spreading and taking over.
The man watches as Tony’s resolve breaks completely. He starts sobbing covering his face as much as he can with his restrained arms to hide his eyes from the gruesome sight before him. “No no no nonononono” He says over and over again, the pitch getting higher and higher. He doesn’t want to believe what just transpired.
“Was keeping the information to yourself worth his life?” The man asks.
“I don’t know anything!!” Tony cries, “You killed an innocent child for nothing you fucking bastard!!!!” Tony screams as he whips his head up to look at the murderer. His eyes were full of grief and fury.
“Hmmm, maybe you don’t know anything.” He says thoughtfully. “Oh well, nothing to be done now.” He says as if he made a simple mistake like arriving late to an appointment, not taken a life from a kid. A kid who was the light of Tony’s life. A kid who risked his life every day to save others.
The man moves his arms and opens yet another portal. He walks through it without another word. The second it closes both Peter’s and Tony’s restraints vanish in a flash of orange. Peter, having no strength, falls lifelessly forward and crumples onto the ground in a heap of limbs. Tony sees this from his peripheral vision as he is looking down in defeat, his breath catches before his sobs continue. His whole frame is shaking and his breathing is rapid and painful. After a moment he lifts his gaze to see the kid, his limbs at uncomfortable angles, some under him and some laying out. He crawls/drags himself forward. “Peter.” he breathes out as he gets closer.
When Tony finally gets to him he hesitates to touch the boy. When he does he can feel that the kid’s skin is still relatively warm. Not enough time has gone by for it to be cold. Tony wants to believe that this residual heat is hope, but he knows better. His logic knows better, but that doesn’t mean he is going to listen to logic. Right now logic is his enemy. Listening to logic means saying goodbye.
“Peter.” He says again, tears still leaking and flowing onto his cheeks. He starts to lift the boy up, into his lap. Rearranging his limbs so they are not in uncomfortable positions. Peter’s head falls back and his neck sticks out as he does this. A louder sob breaks free from Tony’s chest as he watches Peter’s head flop lifelessly. Blood now trailing into his soft curls. He carefully maneuvers the kid’s head to rest on his bicep as he lets his own back rest against the chair that had kept the boy captive. Once Peter is situated across his lap, Tony reaches for the cloth in his mouth and pulls it out. If Peter were aware he would have probably coughed once the rancid thing was out, but instead the kid’s jaw stays open, unmoving. Tony throws the rag to the side and gently pushes Peter’s chin up so his mouth is closed.
Peter is staring up at him with hollow empty eyes, with a shaking hand Tony uses two fingers to lower his eyelids. Now, Tony can trick himself, and pretend the boy is just asleep. It would be easier without the hole in the kid’s head. The wound is bleeding less and less, but Tony’s suit jacket is still getting wet from it. “Kiddo, please wake up.” He whispers pleadingly. He knows he is delusional, but he will do anything, beg any deity out there to bring back his boy. “I-” he takes a shaky breath, “I know you want to see May and Ben again. I know you want to see your parents again, but you can’t leave me.” He lets out a heart-wrenching sob. “Please don’t leave me.” He pulls the kid a bit closer and rocks him gently side to side almost like a baby. He was never there for Peter when he was a baby, but he was planning on being there for him until the day he died. He died, not the kid. That’s how it is supposed to be, the parent is supposed to die first, not the kid, never the kid. “I had so many plans.” He whispers, “I was going to adopt you. I want to adopt you.” The never-ending flow of salt water starts to dampen Peter’s curls as they fall from Tony’s face onto Peter’s head, mixing with the blood already staining the brown strands. “You were the future of SI… You were my future.” He leans down and presses a kiss onto Peter’s forehead that turns into a sob as he feels the skin which is now colder than before. “You brought the Avengers back together. You’re the only reason things became bearable again when they came back. Please-” his breath hitches, “please don’t do this to me.”
Tony knows he can probably get out of wherever they are now that the guy is gone, but leaving this place, stepping back into the real world is accepting reality. A reality where his son is gone. He can’t do that. He doesn’t know if he can survive that. So, he stays there on the dirty, concrete floor holding Peter as he gets colder and stiffer in his arms. He whispers assurances to the kid even though he will never hear them, Everything is going to be okay kiddo. The Avengers will come and save us. Rest up now, you’ll need your strength for when we get out. I’m right here with you. We’re going to be okay. He alternates between those, and begging, Please wake up Pete.Stay with me. Please don’t go. You need to wake up for me bud, you’ve got school on Monday. I can’t do this without you Peter, you have to stay with me. Please, please don’t leave me alone. He does this until the wall to the left of them is blasted in, the Avenger in a fighting stance. If only they weren’t too late.
They all walked into the room scanning for a threat, but all they saw was Tony, holding Peter’s body. Steve stepped toward them. “Tony?” He asked warily. Tony did not look up. He was not the least bit relieved that they finally came, because they didn’t come in time. He just kept staring at Peter’s pale face. “Tony is he-” Steve doesn’t finish the thought. A part of Tony is glad for that. It would have been just as hard, if not harder to hear the word out loud as it would have been for Steve to say.
Tony still doesn’t reply or stop the rocking motion he had been doing for what feels like hours straight. The others look on with shock, sadness, and horror. They clearly see the pool of blood that has accumulated under the two and the paleness of Peter’s skin. “Tones.” Rhodey. Tony, for the first time, since he got to Peter, slowly turns his head and looks up. War Machine is there, but the faceplate is up. “We need to get you guys back to the tower.”
“He’s cold.” Tony simply says, “He doesn’t like to be cold.”
There is a pained look on Rhodey’s face, “We’ll get him a blanket on the jet.”
Tony gives a small nod and starts to get up. The dead weight in his arms makes him struggle. Steve comes forward to try and help. He goes to take Peter so Tony can stand, but the mechanic snatches the kid away, shielding his form with his body, and literally snarls at him. Steve immediately puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.
“Can I help you Tony?” Tony glares at Rhodey for a second, “Just you,” he assures, “I won’t touch Peter.” Tony thinks for a second, looks down at Peter, then backs up and gives a minute nod. Rhodey tries to give a small smile, but it wobbles as he stares at his best friend and the kid. Tony has one arm holding up Peter’s head and back and one under the boy’s stiff knees. They refuse to bend the whole way and stick out a bit. Rhodey grasps Tony’s elbow, under the boy's knees, with his metal hand and uses the other to place on the man’s back. He gently helps Tony off the ground and out of the crimson puddle, Peter still held tightly within his arms.
The other Avengers part to give Rhodey, Tony, and Peter room to step outside through the new, probably unnecessary, hole in the wall. Each looks on with varied expressions of sorrow, horror, and rage. It wasn’t just Peter’s webs that stuck onto things or held things together, Peter had become the glue of the group ever since they had all come home.
The three made their way on the ship, the others following close behind. Everyone was boarding while Rhodey sat Tony down. “Blanket.” Is all Tony said. Rhodey exited his suit, gave a small nod and went to grab a blanket. Everyone started to sit down, no one dared sit near Tony and the kid, not wanting Tony to think they were a threat to Peter like he had Steve. Rhodey came over with two grey shock blankets. He started putting one around Tony’s shoulders. “Not for me,” Tony said making Rhodey still slightly, “for Pete, he’s cold.”
The older man gave Tony a worried, yet reassuring smile, “I know Tones, I have one for him, but he would want you to be taken care of too.” Tony gave a small nod, not paying any mind to the tense Rhodey used in regard to Peter.
After Rhodey wrapped the blanket around Tony he looked at the mechanic for permission to put one on Peter’s body. Tony gave a nod, he trusted Rhodey more than anyone on the jet. Rhodey gently laid the blanket on the stiff, pale kid. He hesitated at the shoulders though. Part of him wanted to pull the blanket fully over the boy's head, but the other part knew that Tony wasn’t ready for that, so he lets the blanket go and steps away. Tony pulls the blanket a bit tighter over Peter, “There you go kiddo, we’ll get you nice and warm.” No one said a word as Tony spoke to the dead teen.
It was only a minute later when Nat and Clint started to fly the jet back to the Tower. “We’ll get him checked out by Cho when we get back.” Rhodey said evenly. Tony just nodded dumbly
Tony is not stupid, far, far from it, but he isn’t about to just accept what happened, not on the outside, not yet. On the inside he is warring with himself about everything, he knows the truth deep down. So when Rhodey said, We’ll get him checked out by Cho when we get back, Tony’s brain started fighting with itself again. One part of Tony thinks, What’s the point, knowing the truth, but the other thinks, Yes, please. Please have her tell me I’m wrong. Have her prove that this is all a mistake and Peter is fine. The question is, is hope in this instance a savior or his enemy?
When they touch down the Avengers file out and make two lines by each side of the entrance. Dr. Cho and a few nurses wheel a gurney up into the jet. “Tony, I heard what happened.” There is sorrow in her voice. “Can you put him on here so we can look at him in the Medbay?” she asks, gesturing to the gurney.
Tony’s eyes are locked on the boy’s face. Not one twitch or movement. He’s not ready to let go. “I can carry him.” He looked up to see the concern on their faces. His voice is quieter as he speaks his next words, “Please let me carry him.” Helen gives a small nod of understanding and gestures to the two nurses to take the gurney away. As they exit Rhodey once again helps Tony up, and the blanket falls from the man’s shoulders. Tony pays no mind to it but makes sure the blanket on Peter stays put. As they walk out they have to walk past the Avengers. As soon as Tony sees them standing there on either side with eyes down in respect Tony looks away. He looks back to Peter. That display is too much like a precession. He’s not ready. Will he ever be ready? No.
Rhondey steers the mechanic to the Medbay. Tony just stands next to the bed looking lost. “I have to examine him now Tony.” Helen says gently.
The man instinctually tightens his hold on the boy. “Tones, you have to let him go.” Let him go. Letting him go, as in putting him onto the bed is more than it seems. Putting him down is actually letting him go, accepting that he is gone
“I can’t.” The mechanic lets out a pitiful sob.
“You have to,” Rhodey says firmly, but gently. “It’s going to be okay.” Empty words. It will never be okay.
Tony very slowly lowers Peter onto the bed, but he doesn’t go down limply like Tony would have expected. Peter’s limbs stay curled up the way they were in Tony’s arms. Still and rigid. It reminds him ironically and horribly of a dead spider, with its limbs curled up. He knows it’s not a good sign, he knew there was no hope, but now he has absolute proof that Peter isn’t coming out the other side.
As soon as the dead weight is out of his arms he crumples to the floor, Rhodey follows, more gracefully. “Tony, you have to breathe.” Why should I when Peter can’t? He thinks morbidly. “Please, take a deep breath for me.” He tries, he really does. “Follow my breathing,” Rhodey says beside him taking exaggerated breaths.
It takes him a while to get even breaths out, but now he is not in danger of passing out. His friend helps him up as Helen comes over to him, a solemn look gracing her face. “I’m sorry Tony.” Tony immediately looks to Peter who is now covered by a thin white sheet from head to toe. A sob burst from his chest.
Real. It’s now officially, undeniably real.
He can no longer push away the logic that has always filled his life. He can no longer live one foot in a fantasy world, one where Peter is still breathing. He can’t pretend that everything is okay. He failed. He failed May and he failed Peter. Rhodey can see another attack creeping up on the philanthropist and drags him out of the room. Tony’s eyes stay fixed on the sheet covered figure on the bed until the door shut with them on the other side.
It’s then that Tony hears the click-clack of heels, unmistakably those of Pepper Potts. He tears his eyes away from the door keeping him from Peter.. Peter’s body, to look in her direction.
Pepper immediately sees something is wrong. She heard someone was taken to the Medbay, but Tony seems physically okay, but his eyes are red-rimmed and he is hunched, breathing a bit fast. “Tony.” She says quickly walking to him.
“Pep,” he squeaks out. Unable to make any other words come out. It sounds like he’s almost pleading, begging for her to fix it.
Pepper envelops him in a warm hug. She looks to Rhodey over Tony’s shoulder. He also looks defeated. “Where is Peter?” She asks which makes the man in her arms sob louder, his shoulders shaking. Rhodey looks into her eyes with a grief-stricken frown and just shakes his head. Pepper's eyes go wide with realization and tightens her arms around Tony as her eyes well with tears.
________
From then on things seem to move in slow motion for Tony. His eyes become dead, the spark of life seems to have left when Peter did. He moves, he breathes, but he doesn’t live. He can feel, but everything feels the same, dulled. Each and every condolence he is offered floats away in the wind, meaningless. They do a closed casket for the funeral to try and make things easier on Tony. Nothing makes it easier. Nothing will ever make it easier.
He blames Dr. Strange, who came to the funeral, but Tony screamed and cursed at him until he left through a portal, disappearing in an instance. It just shows how easy it would have been for Strange to get to him and Peter on time if he had wanted to. The others tried to reason with Tony and say it wasn’t Strange’s fault. Tony refuses to believe that. They wanted information on him and Peter died because of it. If it wasn’t Strange’s fault it means it’s his own. Part of him already believes that, but the other finds it so much easier to blame it on someone else.
Every night he gets the briefest spark of hope that is extinguished almost immediately. Each and every night he has a nightmare about the room. About the gun aimed at his child’s head. Peter’s lifeless hollow eyes staring up at him. And every time he wakes up with a start Pepper is right beside him in their bed. For a millisecond he thinks it was all just a bad dream but then remembers it was just memories of that fateful day. Honestly, as much as he hates living through the event over and over again every night, he still gets to see Peter. Even if he’s only alive for part of the dream, it’s more than he gets in real life. When he wakes up every night he finds himself in the same nightmare he has been forced to live in. A life without Peter. His reality is the nightmare he can’t wake up from.
One night though, things change. As usual he is having a nightmare. The same one of what took place in that room. He watched Peter get shot as he sat there on the floor useless. He holds the kid’s body once they are free of restraints. He cries out in agony. This is usually when he wakes up with a start in his room. But instead, he wakes up in the room.
He gasps, eyes flying open.
“Mr. Stark!”
No. He knows it is his mind playing tricks on him, he shuts his eyes tight enough to hurt. He often still hears the echo of Peter’s voice and his laugh around the tower. He knows not to believe it. Once or twice he went looking for that voice, followed it as it bounced off the walls, more accurately, the walls in his head. Each time Rhodey or Pepper found him and told him the same thing, “He’s gone Tony, I’m sorry.” But this time he isn’t imagining the echoing memories of Peter’s voice in the Tower, but in the room. The room that took Peter away from him. The room that ruined Tony’s life.
“Mr. Stark, please please say something.” Even if it is his mind, which it has to be, he cannot ignore the desperate plea of his kid.
“Peter.” The word sounds foreign in his mouth. He almost never lets himself speak the kid’s name since he passed… was murdered. Just the five letters and two syllables are too hard to say.
“Mr. Stark, are you okay? Please say you’re okay.” The pleading again, The boy’s voice sounds hoarse and wet.
“I’m okay.” I wish you were. He thinks the last part, but then again he is pretty sure all of this is in his head either way. He finally opens his eyes once more and looks up at the face above him, curls falling over the kid’s forehead as he looks down. “Peter.” He breathes out again. Although this is most certainly a dream, a new one at that, he will cherish the time he has to see the boy alive once more.
“Mr. Stark I-” Peter cuts himself off with a choked-back sob, it’s then that Tony takes in the redness of Peter’s eyes, tears overflowing and dripping down his face, “I thought you were dead.”
Tony wants to laugh. This is so ironic. Why is his brain playing tricks on him? Why would his brain torture him like this? Doesn’t he hurt enough already? “Nope,” Tony says, “alive and kickin’,” unlike you.
“I-I couldn’t find your pulse. When I awoke you were just lying there. Y-You wouldn’t wake up.” The boy sobs, his tears landing on Tony’s face.
Although he knows this is all an illusion of his mind he can’t help himself, he heaves himself into a sitting position, “Come here kiddo.” Peter falls into his open arms. Part of him expects the kid to go right through him, proving to Tony that the figure before him is just a ghost from his imagination. But when Peter collides with his chest he feels it and lets out a soft oof. Peter is there. Peter is solid. Peter is warm and breathing. He feels every shutter that runs through the boy and every hitched breath against his shirt. It’s the most he has felt in months. The most he has felt since… since…
No, I am not going to ruin this. I am going to cherish every second I have with the kid before I wake up once more.
“I’ve missed you so much Peter,” he says holding the kid tight, hoping that if his hold is strong enough Peter won’t disappear. He knows it won’t work, he has tried countless times in his other dreams. “I miss you so much.” He amends because he still does miss him, the real him.
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” The kid hiccups.
Yes, you have. You’ve been and are gone. “God, I miss you,” Tony says, finally letting the tears fall.
“Mr. Stark?” He questions, his sobs slowing as concern for his mentor increases.
“Peter.” He can't say the name enough. He only allows himself to say it in his dreams.
“Are you really okay?” It’s a whisper of uncertainty.
“No, not without you.” He would never have been that honest to the real Peter in the past, but after losing someone you learn all the things you wished you had said. All things you should have been open about. “I love you so much, Peter.”
“Mr. Stark, y-your scaring me just a little.”
That is the last thing he wants. He pulls back to look at Peter’s face, eyes locked on the swollen red ones before him, “Don’t be scared, it’s okay.” It’s not, because when I wake up you won’t be there. “Just know that I love you so so much kid.”
Peter cracks a wary smile, “I love you too Mr. Stark.” Tony had begged Peter before this to call him Tony and not Mr. Stark, but hearing those words again from Peter makes him want to beg him never to call him anything else. He has missed it more than he ever thought he would. “D-do you think the Avengers are looking for us?”
Yes, but it doesn’t matter. All of this has already happened, it is written in the history books. His mind is just trying to give him hope that will end up being worse than the despair. Hope just makes you fall further and further into the black abyss as it gets extinguished. “Yes,” he says anyway to be reassuring.
Tony pulls Peter back into a hug wanting to hold his kid for as long as this dream lasts. It was only a few minutes later that an explosion went off. He braces himself to wake up in the Tower, but all he sees is a hole in the wall to their left. The Avengers stand there in fighting stances just like all those months ago. This is odd though. He never, ever dreams about the others, only Peter. Just like before, they walk in scanning for threats, but all they see is the two on the ground next to each other. “Thank god, are you guys alright?” Rhodes' voice comes in as he steps forward from behind Steve.
Tony says nothing, not understanding why his brain is doing this. Why bring the others in? Peter looks at Tony worry shining in his eyes. He then looks up to Rhodey. “I-I’m fine, but I don’t know about M-Mr. Stark.” Rhodey looks to his best friend in concern. “At first he w-wouldn’t wake up. I couldn’t find his pulse.” A sob comes out of the boy’s chest. “He was lying there for hours. I tried to wake him, I did.” The others are looking on in confusion and worry. “He just woke up.” Peter finishes.
“Tones, you okay?” Rhodey turns to the mechanic.
“Why are you here?” Tony asks without meaning to, the words falling out of his mouth before he can catch them.
“We’re here to get you out,” Steve replies a bit back. He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the universe.
“You’re never in the dream, why tonight?” The man asks out loud.
Peter looks scared as he looks at his mentor, “Mr. Stark, what are you talking about? D-Did you hit your head?”
“Why can’t you let me be with Peter while I can?” The man asks the others almost pleadingly, ignoring the kid’s questions.
“Tones, what are you talking about?” Rhodey says as he crouches down in his suit.
“Let me be with him while I can, before I wake up again. Before he’s gone again.”
“Tony, you are awake.” Rhodey says gently, “You and Peter are awake and he’s okay, right next to you. No one’s taking him away.”
“There’s no stopping it, I’ve tried,” Tony replies. “No matter what I do I will wake up in a world without him.”
“Mr. Stark, I-I’m right here,” Peter says, trying to get his mentor’s attention on him. It doesn’t take much, Tony never wanted to tear his eyes away from his kid in the first place. “I’m not going anywhere.” I wish it were true. The older man thinks.
“Come on, let's get you out of here.” Rhodey breaks the new silence.
“It won’t matter, none of this is real,” Tony says, not moving to get up, his eyes back on Peter’s face, trying to memorize every freckle, every line before it’s gone again.
“It’s real.” A new voice adds in before anyone else can reply. It’s a deeper voice. In walks Dr. Stange, a red cloak perched on his shoulders.
This spurs Tony up. He gets up so fast that Peter flinches, almost getting knocked back, trying to get out of the way. Tony storms over to Strange, “You!” He shouts.
“Tony, let me explain what’s going-”
Tony cuts him off, “No!” He screams and everyone looks on in shock, not knowing what to do. The cloak unwraps from the sorcerer's shoulder and gets in between Tony and Strange so the mechanic can’t hurt him. “You let him die!!” Strange’s neutral, almost bored expression turned to one of confusion and horror and the cloak seemed to almost look shocked as well. As shocked as a floating cape can look. “They wanted to know where you were and where that stupid book of Meranti was!”
“Vishanti” Strange corrects.
“Shut up!” The sorcerer shuts his mouth, “They wanted information on you! Peter died because of you!!” He screams, face red with fury, as rivers of salt water flow down his face anew.
“M-Mr. Stark?” Tony hears the hitched whisper.
He turns around and sees Peter’s expression has turned to one of terror, he’s standing now, legs shaking a bit. He immediately goes back to the kid. He wants to beat the wizard up, but he feels almost a magnetic force pulling him back towards his kid, not to mention the red cloak probably wouldn’t have let him get much closer to the former surgeon. “I’m sorry.” Tony whispers as he pulls the kid into a tight embrace. I’m sorry meant so much more than those two words. I’m sorry for saying that in front of you. I’m sorry you’re not actually here. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. And so much more. Every regret related to the boy was encompassed in those two measly words.
“Can I please explain now?” Stange asked, his voice actually hesitant for once.
“There is absolutely nothing you can say,” Tony said not looking at him, just keeping the side of his head pressed against Peter curls, eyes shut.
“Peter is not dead.” He says. Everyone in the room is more confused than they ever have been. They are all staring at Peter who is obviously alive and yet Tony, who is literally holding the breathing teen, thinks he’s dead. “It was a spell.” Tony finally glances back but does not unwrap his arms from around Peter.
“What do you mean?” He asks, begging the minuscule hope left in his body not to rise. If it rises it will surely fall and crash once more leaving him in more anguish than before, if that is even possible.
“They were looking for the book of Vishanti.” He explained. “But, they did not kidnap you and Peter for that information.”
“They shot him because I didn’t know anything.” Tony growls, Peter can feel the vibration through Tony’s chest.
“That wasn’t real. They kidnapped you and Peter so the Avengers would spend their time searching for you and wouldn’t be able to help me defend the sanctum which holds the book.”
“I saw him die,” Tony whispers, his words weak and breaking and yet so loud in the concrete room, “I held his body in my arms.” He feels Peter grasp him tighter and he does the same trying to comfort himself and the boy. The others look at the two with a sense of sorrow and intense worry.
“It was a dream. I’ve heard of this sorcerer before. He casts spells to make someone live out their worst nightmare.” Tony stares at him incomprehensibly, feeling his hope, against his will rise. “Your worst nightmare must be losing Peter.”
Tony takes those words in for a minute before he apprehensively says, “He’s really alive?” His voice pitched higher than normal. He looks down at Peter whose face is pressed against his shoulder. “He’s okay?”
“He’s okay, I promise.” Tony lets out a relieved sob. “I have a force field around the sanctum, but somehow he got through. Luckily, I sent the book with Wong to Kama Taj. The sorcerer is trapped in the mirror dimension at the moment. Once we put the kidnapping and the attack on the sanctum together we knew he was the one who took you two. He told us your location after some persuasion.” Strange’s eyes flicker to Nat whose lips quirk just slightly to one side.
“He’s really okay?” He half asks half begs once again. He breaks the hug and holds Peter by his shoulders at arms length, “You’re okay?” Tony asks, tears still flowing from his eyes.
“I thought you were dead,” Peter whispers in lou of an answer. Tony’s stomach drops as he looks at the torment in the kid’s doe eyes, “You wouldn’t w-wake up. You laid there for hours.” Sobs break free once more as Peter almost crumples to the ground in anguish and relief. “I held you. I thought I lost everyone. I thought I lost you.”
Tony goes down with him and holds him. He remembers those first few hours in this room. He remembers Peter lying in the ground unmoving. He remembers picking up the kid’s limp body and cradling him as he grew stiffer and colder. He now can picture Peter doing the same but to him. It’s worse to think of Peter going through that then himself. He can almost see Peter crying over his body thinking he was finally alone in the world. Yes, the Avengers would never let Peter be alone, but there is something about parental figures that are different then friends, teammates, and even uncles and aunts. If Tony died Peter would have officially lost five parental figures before he turned eighteen. Yes, he would have Pepper, but for some reason he has always felt more comfortable around Tony compared to her.
Peter really thought he had lost Tony just as he thought he lost the kid. “Peter’s worst nightmare must have been losing you.” Strange breaks in, voice heavy and sad.
Somehow that sadistic sorcerer literally killed two birds with one stone. He put Tony in a dream trance where he had to live through Peter dying and living without him. Peter was here, in the real world as Tony lay on the ground unconscious, without a pulse, stuck in a nightmare. Both lived through the other dying.
There is a big difference between the time they spent without each other. Tony lived through months without Peter, Peter lived through hours without Tony. But again, Tony remembers those first few hours. He remembers them vividly, the horror, the anger, the grief, the anguish, the denial. Almost everything after that was a despair filled dissociative blur. Every night he would have to live through those first few hours again and again. Those hours were the worst and Peter had gone through them as well. Those few hours, excluding his dreams, were months ago to Tony. For Peter, those awful, word-defying hours were just minutes ago. He squeezes his kid tighter, “I’m so sorry.” Whatever was left of the dam inside Peter breaks, he sobs fully into Tony, the man takes all the boy’s weight as he shakes and shutters. “I’m so sorry.”
“I-I thought I killed you.” Tony takes a sharp breath in, “I thought P-Parker L-Luck got you.” He says between sobs.
“No,” Tony says defiantly, “none of this was your fault. Neither were any of their deaths.” He doesn’t have to list the names, Peter knows. He knows the long list of every person he has lost. Each name branded into his brain. The kid doesn’t believe Tony though, he shakes his head against Tony’s chest. Tony decides to tackle all of that another time, after they're out of this godforsaken room that took them both away from each other. For now, he just holds and comforts his kid as they both cry. He knows at least a fraction of what the kid’s guilt feels like. For the last few months, hours in reality, he had switched between blaming Strange and himself. Regretting ever getting close to the boy who he thought would never live up to his full potential because of him. Peter no doubt felt similarly, regretting getting close to the mechanic when he is plagued by Parker Luck, thinking it was his fault. Tony will just have to prove to the boy that he is stuck with him, especially because Tony doesn’t want Peter out of his sight for the foreseeable future. Somehow he thinks Peter won’t have a problem with that.
The others leave them alone for a few minutes. When they finally decide to head back to the tower Tony starts to get up. Peter knows where they are going and yet he feels fear well up inside him as Tony breaks the hug. He grasps Tony’s wrist a little bit harder than he should. Tony looks back at him as he finally gets to his feet. “Please don’t leave me.” Peter says, not even caring if the others hear. Not caring how young he sounds. Tony pulls the boy up and holds him once more.
“Never,” Tony whispers into his curls as he grasps the one person that could fill the hole he has had in his heart for months. “Never again.”