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Tony had felt gut-wrenching anguish and pain three times before. First when he heard about his mother's car crash, the second when Jarvis had died, and third when he saw Pepper fall into the inferno after he’d failed to catch her.
Albeit that last one was only for a hot minute (pun intended) and he got Pepper back, but that split second when their hands didn’t meet and she fell down and down and down . . . he wanted to throw up. He watched her scream and reach out for him and supposedly die.
He’d never seen anyone he loved die before.
But it ended well; Pepper rescued him and was alive. He made sure she was alive. And in return she made sure he was alive.
Jarvis had passed away peacefully, and his mother was with his father. He didn’t have to face those deaths head-first, not with his own two eyes.
So when the lady with antennae dissolved to dust, Tony had to take a step back. What the hell was happening? Mr Lord and the muscular alien faded away too. Deep in his bones he knew something was wrong, like, fundamentally wrong. From behind him, Strange's breath was ragged.
"There was no other choice," Strange managed to gasp. He closed his eyes and disintegrated to dust, shaking Tony to the core.
He didn't know the wizard all that well, and he was so confused as to why he saved his life. Dying to protect the universe would've brought some sort of satisfaction to Tony's life, his final huzzah after cheating death too many times. Even now, after being stabbed, he was alive.
“Mr Stark?” Tony looked toward Peter. “I don’t feel so good.”
The boy was suddenly so small, so young, but so filled with fear. Something was wrong with the universe.
“You’re alright.” Tony wished he sounded more confident.
He could only watch as Peter stumbled forward and grasped him. Tony forgot how to use his arms; how do you return a hug? But with Peter in his clutches, Tony felt everything align, and he didn’t want to let go of this boy ever again. It was like this kid was made to be hugged. But this was not the moment. No.
No, this was not the moment, because Peter was crying.
“I don’t know what’s happening!”
Peter was grasping at him, like he was using every strength in his tiny body to cling to Tony, to cling on to his life. He was so young, he was so hopeful; he had his entire life ahead of him. The school dances, the evening dates, the movie nights. Peter still had all of that ahead of him.
“I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go.”
That was when it really clicked in Tony’s mind. He squeezed him, as if to ensure that he was still real. This boy, his protégé, someone he thought of as his . . . was dying.
Something gave way under Peter, and he became unstable. Trying his best, Tony had to maneuver their embrace and dropped Peter to the ground. He refused to believe this was happening, that out of all the people to die in the universe, that this boy . . .
There was that feeling, that gut-punch dread. Tony would not watch someone he love die in front of his eyes, not after Pepper. Pepper came back to him. Peter would also come back to him. He had to come back to him
This was not happening.
This was not happening.
This was not happening.
When he looked into Peter’s eyes, he thought he saw acceptance.
“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered, drifting away from Tony.
And just like that, he was gone. Poof. One minute Tony had a hand on his chest, and the next it just fell through.
Everything went blank. Tony couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. He watched the ash that once belonged to a kind and honest boy drift away on this alien planet. He tried to grab hold of whatever was left of Peter.
Peter was fine. Peter was whole. Peter was here.
He had to breathe. He wanted to wipe his hands of the ash, but that would mean rubbing his hands of Peter, and he couldn’t do that.
All Tony wanted to do was cry, to fill this gaping hole inside of him, one he’d never felt before. One he didn’t even know was carved in him. So he cradled his hand, kissing the ashes and cursing all the gods he could think of.
A voice from behind him startled him back to reality. “He did it,” the blue alien whispered, like it was a curse.
She glanced at him with sympathy, then at the spot where Peter once lay.
“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, and she turned her attention to the rest of the planet.
Out of all he’d lost, Tony never thought that this would hurt the most. It was a more intense pain, a more acute unfamiliar feeling that ached his heart. Every cell in his body screamed agony, even though he didn't aloud. He waited, expecting the tears to come, to wash Peter's ashes from his face, to finally empty himself of all feeling. But nothing happened. He cradled his ashen hand, praying this tragedy could be undone.