Steve
When Tony comes back to earth, Steve expects many things.
He expects Tony to crack a joke. He expects Tony to immediately cook up a plan to bring down Thanos. He expects Tony to hit him for all the travesty he’s caused him.
What he certainly doesn’t expect is for Tony to be completely silent, a somberness to him that matches what Steve is feeling inside.
(“Steve…”)
Steve nods at Tony, and opens his mouth to say something, but finds he can’t find the right words.
Tony just nods back sullenly at Steve, barely acknowledging him, before he stalks away. Steve doesn’t feel offended by his greeting; if anything, Steve understands.
But then, when Tony greets Rhodey in the same manner, Steve knows something has happened.
He doesn’t have to wait long before he learns what is wrong.
“Tones? You alright?”
Tony just looks down at his hand, which appears to be covered in ashes.
“Hey- if you’re worried about Pepper, she’s still-”
“My kid is gone.”
“What?”
“My kid. He’s gone.”
Steve frowns. His kid? As far as Steve knew, Tony didn’t have any kids. And, as far as Rhodey’s expression goes, it seems as if Rhodey didn’t know about his kid either.
“Your what- Tony, you don’t have any kids.” Rhodey says softly.
“I- not biologically, no,” And oh, that makes more sense.
“But-my kid was- he was- he was my kid, you know? My kid.”
Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Surprisingly, he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even react to Steve’s touch.
Rhodey tries to comfort him when he murmurs, “At least it was quick, like everyone else.”
But then, Tony breaks down, and he actually cries, cries for the boy he’s just lost. He sobs, “It wasn’t- not quick, no. His- he’s got a healing factor? And- this, precognitive sense? He suffered, Rhodey. He suffered, and I couldn’t even comfort him when he died in my- in my- fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
(Steve watches the man he’d sworn to help and protect crumble into a pile of ash on the ground, gun falling down next to it.)
“I failed him, Rhodey. I failed him, I failed him, I failed him-”
“No.” Steve suddenly says, and Tony falls quiet. Perhaps it’s the authority in which Steve speaks that makes him stop talking. Perhaps it’s the fact that he hasn’t really heard Steve speak in two years, the last time being in Siberia.
That doesn’t matter, though.
What does matter, is this;
“You didn’t fail him. Because we are still alive, Thanos is still out there, and we’re going to make it right. We’re going to fix this. And if that’s not possible, fixing it, fixing the mess that’s been made? Then we’ll avenge the universe.”
(“Oh God,” he mutters, shaking on the ground next to Vision’s grey body.)
(There is a word for a child who has lost their parents. There is a word for a person who has lost their spouse.
There is no word for a parent who has lost their child.)