Work Text:
Tony walks through the halls, glancing in each room where the missing Avengers used to sleep. Each empty bed makes him feel even more guilt, knowing that he failed them. He did everything he could, he worked sleepless nights, he made the world around as safe as possible for the people he loved.
But it wasn't enough to save them.
Tony stops in his tracks, looking into the last bedroom at the end of the hall. Small pictures of himself and Steve are pinned to the walls, but a smiling snapshot Natasha being the biggest one of them all. He smiles a little as he glances to the desk in the corner, a grade eleven chemistry book lying open, crumpled papers in the trash next to it. On the bed across from him, the sheets are still messy, the Spider-Man comforter in disarray from the last time the kid slept in it.
Tony steps through the doorway, a squeeze in his chest when the honeysuckle scent of Peter's shampoo hits his senses. As he looks around he takes a few more steps forward, this being the first time in the kid's room since it happened.
He sits down on the soft bed, remembering the countless times he was in here with Peter, holding him and comforting his cries for May since she passed. He remembers the sleepless nights full of nightmares, Peter's demons coming to haunt him through dreams. Tony was willing to do anything to take the hurt from his son, and he can still feel the pain of helplessness itching in his chest as he watched the tears all those years ago.
A glitter in the corner of Tony's eye catches his attention, and he pulls himself up from the comforting blankets to see. He makes his way closer to the desk, curious on what the kid had stashed away in it. Tony left him alone in here so many times, he never really did know what he had done besides homework.
The billionaire reaches into the now fully open drawer on the side, picking up a letter carefully. He knows it will could be an invasion of privacy if he read it, but he notices it's addressed to him.
The letter is for Tony.
His hands shake as they open up the flaps, noticing the crinkled edges and smudged pen marks. Peter was always so messy when he wrote, but when he did write, his words were beautiful to his dad.
Tony wants to read it out loud, but he knows that will be too cliche. So, with tears in his eyes and a hand over his mouth, he sits down in the chair and starts to read.
-
"Dear Mr. Stark, (or Tony, maybe dad?)
I'm not very good at writing these types of things, especially heartfelt letters. In fact, MJ once made me take a writing class because she thought if I had practice I'd be really good at it. I don't know if she was right or not, wait, I should start over, I'm getting off track. I'll just get into it.
After May died, you were the first person there. I can remember the first time you came to our apartment, it was crazy. I talked to you in my bedroom and you, you listened. I mean, you really truly listened. You were the first person to do that.
When I moved into the compound after what happened, I told you about my nightmares. They're pretty scary, I'm not gonna lie. But you helped me, made me better. You were the first person to do that too.
What I'm trying to say is, thank you. I know I should just tell you this in person, and actually talk to you, but I feel better writing it down, having it all in front of me. If I never give this to you because I forget, sorry about that :)
I should really get going, Steve is making mac n cheese tonight for supper because Nat isn't here to cook. (Though I like her spaghetti way better than anything else.)
I'll talk to you later, dad,
From Peter"
-
Tony sets the letter down, tears staining the paper. Closing his eyes, he tries to focus. Judging from the details in this letter, Peter wrote this days before they went into space. Days before he clung onto Tony for the last time, before the boy begged his dad to save him, to take the pain away and let him stay, before Peter was swept into the wind, falling into oblivion like billions of others.
Tony breathes slowly, opening his eyes and swiping at his tears. He stands up, looking around the room one last time before he leaves. Clutching the paper tightly once more, he walks to the nightstand and takes the picture of the kid and himself to set in his lake house.
As he drives back to Pepper and his daughter, he keeps his eyes trained on the road and thinks clearly for the first time in years. He doesn't want to remember the bad parts of Peter's death, he wants to remember the good things that he left behind.
Though Tony feels like he failed Peter, he knows in his heart that he can make it right. He has to.
And he will.
For Peter.