May knew that Tony masked his fear, worry, and hurt with anger. So she was surprised to find him looking completely broken, sitting next to the door of Peter’s surgery room.
“Tony?”
He lifted his head from his knees, displaying the tears flowing down his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away. “Hi, May,” he muttered hoarsely.
She knelt next to him on the cold floor, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault.”
Tony looked at her incredulously. “Of course it is. It’s all my fault.” She saw something crack in his eyes.
“Tony, no. it’s not-”
“It is. He-he just, I didn’t even see the hit coming, and then he was falling.” Tears leaked from his dark eyes. “I almost didn’t catch him.”
“But you did, Tony. You caught him. And now Cho’s fixing him up so I can chew him out and you can spoil him with cuddles even more than usual.”
Tony chuckled wearily. “I sure will.”
~~~~~
And he did. The minute Cho let him into Peter’s “recovery room,” as they called it, he sprinted in and pressed kisses to every inch of Peter’s face.
May followed, watching fondly as Tony stoked his son’s hair gently, holding his small, limp hand. The man stared at Peter’s slack, peaceful face, bending down to kiss his soft cheek.
“He’s okay, Tony,” she murmured gently, sitting in a soft, fuzzy brown chair that was designated for her.
“He’s okay,” he repeated reverently. “Peter.”
~~~~~
Peter chose the worst possible time to wake up.
May had left to take a shower and recuperate.
And Tony was crying quietly into his hands, drowning in guilt.
Because this was all his fault.
Then his terrible thoughts were cleared by a weak, trembling voice.
“Misser S’ark?”
“Peter.”
He bolted upright, clutching both of Peter’s small hands in one of his. “Petey?”
“Hi.”
Tony quickly wiped his eyes before the boy could see. “Hey, mimmo. How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you need anything? Anything at all, you can tell me.” By the end he was rambling but neither of them cared.
“Mmm.... Cuddles?”
The man’s heart filled and burst with warmth and love. Carefully he settled himself in Pete’s bed, tucking the covers tighter around them. He gently settled the boy’s head on his chest, pulling him close.
After a long, long moment, he spoke. “Why did you do that, Petey? Why did you take the hit for me? I’m not worth it, baby.”
Peter squinted at him, frowning. “Yes, you are Misser... Misser Dad. ‘Cause I love you.”
Tony felt ready to burst into tears. But happy tears they would be. “I love you so much, bambino. I love you. I love you baby.”
Peter smiled loopily. He squirmed around and moved his head closer to Tony’s heart. The boy blinked sleepily, saying nothing, just smiling.
And to Tony, that meant everything.