Chapter 1
It didn’t matter how it started. It didn’t matter that when they got the call to assemble, it was 11:04 on a Wednesday, two weeks after the kid had started school back at Midtown. It didn’t matter what the threat was, especially because it was just another power-hungry human who just needed to attack the city with what looked like a decent attempt at replicating pterodactyls, except with more spikes and fire breath. It didn’t matter that Bruce was still having Hulk problem, and it didn’t matter that Steve was here fighting even though they were still working out their issues, because it had been over a month since they’d defeated Thanos and un-dusted everyone from the soul stone and they were getting along as well as could be expected.
The only thing that mattered was that when Tony saw Black Widow get up too slowly after a hard fall, and when Bucky almost caught on fire because five of the creatures went after him at once, he made the worst decision of his life.
He called in Spiderman.
The kid was there in under 10 minutes, which was impressive, but Tony patched him into their comms and fell in stride next to Peter, taking a spike dragon down with a well-aimed repulsor blast.
“So, Mister Stark, what’s the game plan?” Peter bounced on his toes, obviously ready to be back in action.
“Stick ‘em to the ground, the walls, whatever, but keep your distance. If you can, web their mouths closed, I’d really not like to be on the receiving end of that fire breath.”
“You got it, dude.” Peter gave him a thumbs up, and launched himself off the ground and onto the side of a nearby office building. Tony shook his head and activated his repulsors, flying towards the flock (flock?) of creatures that were attacking a coffee shop. They were birds, he decided, and shot at them.
Twenty minutes later, Tony, Peter, Cap, and Clint had the stragglers backed into an alleyway. Cap glanced over, and shrugged, as if they hadn’t been doing the same thing for hours. “We’ll take the left, you guys take the right?” No one seemed to have a problem with it, so he nodded and pulled his shield off his back. “On my count.”
They charged.
The birds seemed to have communicated, because they charged too.
Tony noted that there was nothing quite like being hunted down by angry firebirds, and that he would never complain about the pigeons again. He and Peter worked together; the kid wrapping the beaks and then letting him blast the bird away. He couldn’t see Cap or Clint, but he heard shouts of “Take that, you fucking dick-beak” and “Hawkeye, I’m not even going to say it”, so it had to be going okay.
Then a bird dive bombed him and clipped his shoulder, and he twisted and fell on the pavement, blasting at it as it flew away. Pain shot through his body, and he stopped for a second to sit up and catch his breath. “Iron Man, status.” Cap’s commanding voice rang through the comm unit.
“I’m fine, just surprised. Don’t let them hit you, it’s not particularly enjoyable.”
“Funnily enough I’d worked that out for myself, Iron Ass.”
Someone sighed through the comms. “Seven left, let’s get this over with.”
Tony made to get back to his feet, turning over and pushing up off the ground, but suddenly here was a panicked voice in his ear. “Mister Stark, look out!” He looked up quickly, seeing four of the birds headed directly his way. He raised his repulsors, and took down two right off the bat, Cap’s shield flashed through the air, cutting through a third, and an arrow pinned the fourth to the wall behind them.
“Make that three.”
They all looked up, trying to pinpoint the location of the remaining mutants. “Friday, show me heat signatures.”
“There seem to be only four signatures in your immediate surroundings that belong to yourself, Spiderman, Captain America, and Hawkeye.” Tony swore.
“We lost them.” He retracted his suit, the nanobots disappearing from around him, and surveyed the damage to the area. Not too bad. It wasn’t great, but after dealing with angry birds, he was going to cut his losses. “Come on, back to the medivacs. Barton, I know for a fact that one of those fuckers burnt your leg, so you’re not getting out of this.” Steve looked at him, surprised that he was the one making sure Clint didn’t dip out of medical, but said nothing, choosing to sling his shield onto his back and walk in silence. The group left the alley, and started down the (now destroyed) street, some shops still smoldering from recent fires. “Hey Underoos! Is medical still standing?” Peter was crawling on the walls beside them as they walked, and could certainly see further.
“Uh, yeah? Looks a little smoky but it’s not like on fire or anything.”
“Thank God. Clint, straight there, no pit stops. Tony, you too. Don’t think for a second that I can’t tell you dislocated your shoulder.”
Tony grumbled. “I didn’t dislocate my shoulder.” His shoulder felt like it was on fire, but Cap didn’t need to know that.
“Ok, the bird dislocated your shoulder.” They started squabbling. Clint looked up to roll his eyes at Peter, and jumped.
“Hey guys, I found number three.” He raised his bow, and the bird raised its wings angrily before the arrow met its mark. “That was easy.” He turned to see numbers one and two flying towards Steve and Tony, who were still caught up in their argument. “HEY! BEHIND YOU!”
Cap twisted easily and threw his shield, knocking one of them out, but Tony was unarmed and raising his hands above his head for protection when Peter swung down from his perch and knocked it out of the way. Clint stabbed it for good measure, just because the stupid things had taken enough of his day, and if he wanted to make sure it was really dead? No one could fault him.
“Kid, are you alright?” Peter was just getting up off the ground. Tony’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the answer.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Nothing a little healing factor can’t fix.” He sounded breathless, but the kid had just tackled a giant bird, Tony rationalized.
“You sure? You’re still going to medical.” Tony waved Steve and Clint on ahead, swinging and arm around Peter’s shoulders.
Peter rolled his eyes. “I know. God, you’re such a dork about that kind of-“ He stopped walking suddenly, just feeling the pain from his fall. “Oh.”
“Pete? Peter, talk to me, what’s wrong, what do you need?” Tony looked down to where Peter’s hands had wrapped around his stomach, and he felt his breathing hitch. There was blood, there was so much blood, and Peter’s face had turned an ugly grey color. “I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!” Tony screamed in the direction of medical, hoping, praying someone had heard him. He lowered Peter to the ground, laying him gently down. “Pete you’re going to be ok, you hear me? Keep your eyes open. Look at me.”
The kid cracked an eye open, wincing as Tony put pressure on the wound. “It hurts so much, Mister Stark.”
Tony’s head was foggy, fighting to keep memories where they were, and he blinked away the surface of Titan for the ragged city streets. “No, you’re going to be fine, I swear. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
Peter was breathing in quick gasps, trying to ignore the pain to no avail. Tony could hear someone running a stretcher down the street, but it was far away. He looked down at Peter, at his pale face, his eyes, and his fear that didn’t belong on that young of a body.
“Mister Stark, I’m so sorry.”
“No,” Tony managed. “You’re not allowed to say that, not right now.” It was too similar, his hand cupping the kid’s head as he lay on the ground, their destroyed surroundings, but this time, it wasn’t Tony who had the hole through his stomach.
Peter laughed weakly, his eyes fluttering. “I guess I’m not a hero anymore, huh?”
Tony brushed the kid’s hair back from his face, his other hand still putting pressure on Peter’s abdomen. “Of course you are, why would you think that?” Tears were coming now, heavy, but he could still see Peter relax beneath him.
“You always said that heroes couldn’t die.”
And Tony opened his mouth to say anything, to reassure his kid that he was still a hero, and that heroes are still heroes after they die, and that most importantly, he wasn’t dying, but the med team pushed him out of the way and pulled Peter onto the stretcher, leaving Tony in the middle of the road, covered in blood that was not his own.