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They were unpacking the tower penthouse when it happened.
Tony had glanced over his shoulder as he unpacked boxes behind the bar, a fond smile gracing his face as he watched Peter rummage through piles of junk Tony had thrown into a box and called quits. He only brought furniture and trinkets that were otherwise left unused at the cabin, yet Peter found such a fascination in them that immediately floored Tony and made his throat constrict.
Only a month ago, his kid hadn't been alive.
Peter seemed to hear Tony's thoughts because he was looking up, a picture frame in his hold. Peter beamed at him. Tony beamed back, enamored.
But Peter’s face quickly contorted from amused to dark, a face Tony had memorized from past missions and stakeouts.
”Kid? Is it your Peter Tingle?”
”Don’t call it my Peter Tingle,” Peter deadpanned, though the alarm remained in his posture. “...but yeah. Something’s not right.”
Before Tony could even begin to question him, the penthouse elevator emitted a faint ding. Tony snapped his head toward it, immediately standing and placing himself between whatever threat could be present and his kid.
But it was Steve.
And Bruce. And he was hurt.
”Brucey?”
”Tony." Steve stumbled out of the elevator and held Bruce up to his feet to the best of his ability, Bruce's arm thrown around Steve's shoulder. His feet practically dragged behind him on the ground. Tony was immediately rushing halfway to meet them, studying Bruce uneasily upon noticing the way sweat clung to every inch of his skin, the way he trembled from head to toe and grew paler by the second.
"What happened? What's-"
"Mission gone wrong," Steve blurted out, eyebrows pinched together in worry. Bruce tripped on his shoes and crashed into Tony, though Tony found himself unable to support them both and was taking them both down to their knees a second later. "He was infected with some kind of poison. I don't know what it was-"
"Tony," Bruce interrupted hoarsely, looking up to cling to Tony's shirt. "Please tell me you have those Tetrodotoxin darts in the lab."
"What? The ones we made when your better half comes to visit?"
"Yes or no?"
"Are you both insane? Alright, I don't even know what's in the lab right now. I haven't even installed FRIDAY here yet. I only brought stuff from the cabin. I have no clue what Happy's brought from our back-up storage space. In case you both forgot, the compound is just another stain on the Earth. We're working with what we got here."
"Tony." Steve's expression darkened, the worry melting only a fraction to make way for the fear. "If we don't get him the tranq darts..."
Tony connected two and two pretty quick, turning over his shoulder and making dreadful eye contact with Peter, who watched the scene unfold with wide, curious eyes.
"...Why the hell did you bring him here, Steve?"
"I couldn't think of anywhere else. Look, it all happened so fast, I just figured, you know...you'd have the resources necessary to..."
"You have to lock me up somewhere," Bruce choked, the fire behind his eyes roaring.
"...Bruce, I thought you had Jolly Green under control."
"I do. But I don't know what this poison is. I won't have control."
Tony swallowed dryly. He closed his eyes, concentrated and overwhelmed.
"I don't-I don't have anywhere. The best I could do is Barndoor Protocol, but then we're all stuck in here with you."
Steve crouched on his knees, frowning in thought. Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Realizing how badly you fucked up over there, Mister Good and Righteous?"
"Mister Stark?"
Tony turned to look at Peter. He lifted Bruce off of himself and deposited him into Steve's lap before he was rising to his feet to meet his kid, expression grave.
"Kid. You got that nanotech I made you? The watch?"
"Yeah." Peter narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he lifted his wrist to display his watch. "Why?"
"Good. Put on your suit and swing home, kid. I'll see you tomorrow."
"What? No. No way, Mister Stark. I'm not leaving you here."
"Look, Peter, please. I'll be fine, but you need to go. Get help, but don't come back."
"No, Mister Stark. I need to stay. If anything, you're the one in the group that needs to go."
Tony begrudgingly admitted to himself the truth to the kid's words. He shrugged it off.
"Please, Pete."
"Tony, we gotta do something."
Tony turned over his shoulder in dread as Bruce heaved and gasped on the floor, his skin already growing a sickly green color. Tony's mouth went dry and his heart dropped to his stomach, instinctively standing in front of Peter with his arms out, protective.
"Pete, you said you had your nanotech?"
"Always."
"...Good. Cause I got nothin'."
Peter tapped the screen of his watch and allowed his suit to materialize around himself, stepping around Tony so that he was the one protecting his mentor.
"Kid, no."
"No offense, Mister Stark, but what're you gonna do to protect me from the literal Hulk?"
Tony clenched his jaw and said nothing.
Steve had come to stand beside them a moment later, watching in dread as Bruce transformed from calm scientist to, quite frankly, a radioactive monster. Bruce's clothes ripped, his muscles bulged, his skin changed, and his breaths became hoarse and fragmented.
Tony found himself placing a hand on his kid's shoulder.
Bruce rose from the ground appearing ten feet taller than he really was, beady eyes immediately finding the group of three gawking at him from below.
"Bruce..." Steve stepped forward, his hand out cautiously. "Buddy...the sun's gettin' real low-"
Bruce was done with that fast, swatting a large hand in front of him and sending Steve flying across the room. Tony's hold on Peter's shoulder tightened.
"What's the plan?"
"That's what I was about to ask you."
Bruce roared in Peter's face. Tony found himself instinctively tugging Peter back a few steps.
"You go hide behind that bar."
"What? Peter-"
"Sorry, Mister Stark." Peter turned over his shoulder, scooped Tony up in his arms, and jogged to the bar, depositing him over the countertop and marching headfirst into battle.
"Careful, kid!"
Peter shot a web up to one of the high beams and used it to swing a foot to Bruce's face. Bruce's roar in return shook the tower as Steve entered the fray, sliding on the ground and knocking Bruce off of his feet. The room was shaking again.
The hairs on Peter's neck stood, he turned, and he lurched forward.
"Mister Stark! Look out!"
Peter hopped over the bar and caught the crumbling chunk of the ceiling from crushing Tony, the eyes of his mask widening as Tony stared up at him in numb shock.
"...I don't think the hiding spot you picked for me was very safe, Petey."
"Yeah, yeah-woah-!"
A large, green fist was wrapping itself around Peter's torso and lifting him into the air. Peter tossed the debris from his hold onto the ground, the rock breaking off and crumbling on the floor. Bruce roared in Peter's face, spit flying into Peter's mask.
"Ew, ew, ew-"
"Bruce!" Steve was standing in front of Bruce again, his hand held out in front of him. "Let him go, Bruce. This isn't you. It's the-"
Bruce swatted a hand down and sent Steve flying away again.
Tony's heart dropped right into his stomach as Bruce tightened his hold on Peter, threw his arm back, and launched Peter through the air.
"Peter-!"
"No, no, wait-!"
Peter went flying right through the window of the penthouse, glass shards flying every which way as gravity took over and Peter was crying out in alarm, dropping down to the city below.
To Tony's nauseating relief, a web shot up outside of the window and attached to the outside of the building, stiffening in tension. Tony released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding before his attention found Steve's gaze, and suddenly he could only see in red.
"Clearly Nat is the only one suited for that little shindig, so just stop. I swear to god, I'm going to punch you right in your stupid, perfect face-"
Tony didn't get the chance. Bruce's green, veiny hand was reaching down over the bar and wrapping itself around Tony's torso, lifting him into the air and snarling in his face.
"H-hey, Brucey...uh...the sun's gettin' real low..."
Bruce huffed, threw his arm back, and launched him out the window.
"Tony-!"
Bruce reached down for Steve and did the same.
Peter, from outside of the building, hung from his web and stared down at the city below with wide eyes, wasting only a moment to bask in relief before a spine-chilling scream sounded from above his head, and Tony was falling.
"Mister Stark?!"
Steve followed soon after, already reaching his arms out for Tony but to no avail.
Peter didn't have to think for a second longer before he was releasing his grip on the web and diving after them, tunnel vision focusing in on Steve and Tony as they flailed through the air. Peter brought his hands to his sides and stiffened his legs like a torpedo, heart racing as they approached the ground horrifyingly fast.
"I've...got...you!"
Peter took Steve's hand in his. He looked back over his shoulder at Stark Tower, closing one eye as he aimed a web at the protruding balcony at the top of the building before he was turning back to Tony, face paling as they neared the ground.
"And...I've...got...you!"
Tony reached out for his kid. Peter took his mentor's hand with an iron grip, yanking him up into his side. Tony wrapped his arms around Peter's torso as the web from above finally connected with the balcony, stiffened, and the group of three were bouncing in the air from the tension, only twenty floors from the ground below.
"Holy shit," Peter breathed out, Steve and Tony's fragmented breaths joining the fray as Peter's arm cried in protest from supporting them all on the web, the web in question creaking. Peter looked around desperately for a solution. "Okay, okay, okay...what-what do we do now?"
"Queens," Steve gestured to a nearby window, licking dry lips as he glanced back up uneasily to the penthouse they had fallen from. "You think you could swing us into that window?"
"Yeah," Peter nodded, breathless. "Yeah, I-I can do that."
They were only a few feet from it. Peter reached a foot over to the glass and pushed himself off of it so that they were swinging. Peter put his foot out again, connected it as hard as he could with the window, and shattered the glass, tossing Tony and Steve into the building before he followed soon after. The three of them all coughed and sputtered on the floor amongst the shards of glass, eyes closed in agony.
"Well...that went well."
"Yeah, yeah..."
"Kid." Tony crawled toward his kid, his eyebrows pinched together in concern. He ripped Peter's mask off and patted his shoulder a few times as Peter continued to cough. "Hey, bud, you with me? You alright?"
"I'm, uh," Peter coughed again, "good as I can be...for someone who was just thrown through a window."
Tony winced. "Yeah. How's your head, kiddo?"
"Hurts."
"Thought so. Don't worry. I'll, uh...figure this out."
"Tony." Steve rose from the ground with a grunt, holding a hand out to help Tony to his feet. "You said Barndoor Protocol was still installed in the building, right?"
Tony was seeing red again.
"Have you absolutely lost your mind?" Tony ignored the help and stood on his own. "What, did Thanos hit you a little too hard in the head?"
"Tony-"
"No, Cap. We're supposed to be done. I'm supposed to be done. I don't do stuff like this anymore. Not only did you bring him here with no plan, but you put my kid in danger. I am not about to lock us in here with Mister Hyde. Sorry. Not doing it."
"Mister Stark."
Tony softened as he turned over his shoulder and made eye contact with his kid. He was still sitting on the ground, blood spilling from his nose as his curls stuck out haphazardly every which way.
"We have to lock the building down, Mister Stark. As soon as possible. I mean, if Bruce gets out like this...he could kill everyone in the city. We have to keep him isolated until we can find those Tetrodotoxin darts he told us about."
Tony furrowed his brow in thought, turning back to Steve though he avoided eye contact. Steve raised his eyebrows in anticipation.
"Well?"
With a huff, Tony made his way over to the far wall where a screen was installed. He swiped it with two fingers, tapped it three times, and waited.
Peter and Steve watched as the windows and doors of the tower were being covered by thick, metal covers, the lights in the room adjusting to account for the lack of natural light. Tony sighed and placed his hands on his hips, staring at the ground deep in thought.
"The only place I could think of that we could find those tranqs are in the lab. We're about two floors below it."
"Okay," Steve nodded, extending his hand and helping Peter to his feet. "Then we'll head that way. Are the stairs open?"
"Yep. Elevators are all down. Pete, activate your distress signal and make sure it gets to Rhodey."
"Yes, sir."
"Alright." Tony turned gravely to the stair access, dread already settling into the pit in his stomach.
"This is such a stupid fucking idea."
"The Hulk could hear you from a mile away. You're too loud."
"I am not."
"Shh."
Tony rolled his eyes as he quietly pushed the door to the lab open, gesturing hurriedly for Peter and Steve to make their way inside. He shut it as quietly as possible, wincing as the knob clicked shut. Peter and Steve immediately split up and began their search.
"What're we looking for here, exactly?"
"They've gotta be in one of these crates." Tony gestured to the several metal crates scattered around the room courtesy of Happy, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "But I have no idea which-"
"Found 'em."
Tony and Steve both blinked after Peter had ripped the top off of one of the crates and removed a briefcase, kneeling down on the floor and clicking it open. Inside laid a gun-like contraption resting in a foam mold, above it resting several vials of a purple liquid with needles at the end, like darts. Peter lifted the vials out of the briefcase curiously.
"How did you find all that so fast?"
"I mean, this crate is labeled 'Jolly Green.'"
Tony clicked his tongue with a nod. Steve rolled his eyes.
"So, how does this thing work?"
"Here, I'll show you." Tony crouched down beside his kid and took the vial from his hand. He lifted the gun out of its mold in the briefcase and clicked the vial into a slot in the weapon like a magazine, flaunting it proudly. "It's a little...barbaric, but it's the best way to ensure that Bruce gets his dosage without having to get too close. "
"Oh. So, you just shoot, and the dart thingies are the...they're like the bullets?"
"Yep." Tony handed it to his kid for him to study. "Nifty, right? No muss, no fuss."
Steve crossed his arms and stared down disapprovingly.
"Nuh-uh. You don't get to judge me, Cap."
"It's...barbarian. It's cruel, Tony. It's basically bull tranquilizer. We can't just treat him like some zoo animal."
"Face the facts, Mister Good and Righteous: right now, he is a zoo animal. Your stupidity got us into this mess, and now my stupidity is going to get us out."
Steve clicked his mouth shut, defeated.
"Wait," Peter stiffened, his gaze hardening as he turned back to the door. "Do you guys hear that?"
"Oh, god. What?"
"That...that booming noise?"
Tony and Steve fell silent and listened closely, acknowledging with dread the way the room began to shake periodically, like a dinosaur was stomping toward them. Tony swallowed dryly, meeting Steve's gaze with dread.
"...No windows for him to throw us out of this time."
Steve nodded.
The stair access door was ripped off his hinges, Bruce forcing himself through the small frame with a deafening roar.
"Here, Mister Stark!" Peter shoved the gun into Tony's hands, thwipping a web onto the ceiling. "You shoot, I'll hold him down."
"Kid-!"
Peter swung from the ground and landed a foot to Bruce's chest. Steve joined in the fray and used Peter as leverage, taking him by the hand and swinging him. Peter crashed into Bruce and wrapped himself around him until he was sitting perched on Bruce's shoulders like Morgan did with Tony, though the juxtaposition was enough to send chills down Tony's spine.
"Mister Stark!" Peter took fistfuls of Bruce's hair. Bruce roared, raising his arms uselessly in an attempt to swat Peter off. "I've got him under control! It's like Ratatouille!"
"What did I say about pop culture references?"
"Take the shot! Hurry, Mister Stark!"
Tony gulped nervously and propped the tranq gun on his shoulder, closing one eye as he aimed though his hand trembled uncontrollably.
"Mister Stark! I can't hold him for long!"
Tony's heart thudded loudly in his chest, his kid's gut-wrenching cries completely interfering with his thought process. He found himself unable to get a clear shot as Bruce continued flailing around and Peter kept interfering with his aim, a shot he was extremely unwilling to take.
"Mister Stark!"
"Dammit-kid, I can't. I don't have the shot!"
"Gimme that."
Tony numbly allowed Steve to rip the weapon from his hands, aim, and fire.
The first tranq hit Bruce's thigh. He roared, beady eyes tunneling in on Steve's face.
"Cap, reload it. Reload it!"
Steve frantically retrieved another vial and clicked it into place, cocking the gun and taking aim once more.
Only this time, Bruce found it in him to throw Peter over his shoulder the exact moment Steve fired.
Peter bounced on his back as he hit the ground, the wind knocked out of him for only a moment as he groaned in pain and wrapped a hand protectively around his stomach.
"Did you get him?" Tony asked Steve, who was already loading another vial into the gun as Tony searched Bruce up and down for the second dart. "Steve, did you miss?"
Peter coughed as he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit upon regaining his balance, his eyes half-lidded and groggy.
"...Pete?"
Peter frowned, turning around so that his back was facing Steve and Tony.
They both paled.
The second dart was lodged into the back of Peter's shoulder, the purple liquid already drained from the vial and deposited into Peter's system. He reached his hand behind him and pulled it out, examining it before he turned to Steve in betrayal.
"Well...you missed."
Bruce roared from behind. Steve started in alarm and fired the gun again without thinking, covering his mouth with a hiss as the dart shot into Peter's stomach.
Peter sleepily watched the purple liquid leave the vial and enter his body before he collapsed forward, melted onto the ground, and succumbed to the drugs intended for a beast much larger than himself.
Tony stared at his kid with wide, disbelieving eyes before he turned slowly to stare at Steve, seething.
"...Rogers, I am going to murder you."
"Yeah," Steve winced, "I know."
Instead, Tony took the gun from Steve, reloaded the vial, and shot Bruce in the neck, watching as the beast's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was collapsing to the ground.
"Well," Steve sighed, watching Tony carefully, "I guess that could've gone worse."
Tony made eye contact with him, his eyes venomous and his lips resting in a thin line, everything about him screaming fury. Steve swallowed.
"You just shot Peter with two doses of Tetrodotoxin B. You shot my kid with enough tranquilizer to take out the literal Hulk. That could not have gone any worse than it did."
Steve said nothing. Tony crawled forward carefully and turned Peter onto his back, studying him with an ache in his chest. He brought two fingers to Peter's neck and felt for a pulse.
"Yep," Tony scoffed, "one heartbeat per minute, all right. Jesus Christ, Cap, he may as well be dead."
Steve looked up at that, eyebrows knitted together in sympathy as he watched the way Tony looked at his kid, the way he held back at the very least a panic attack at the idea of his child dying again.
"Tony, he's going to be just fine. Is the medbay stocked with anything?"
"A few crates worth of stuff, yeah."
"Good. Bruce can wait here until help arrives. We'll get him up there and do what we can. But he's not dying, Tony. That's a promise."
Tony said nothing, watching numbly as Steve scooped Peter up in his arms delicately and made his way to the gaping hole in the wall where the stairs were.
After climbing twenty flights of stairs, Steve gave in and allowed Tony to help carry the precious cargo in his arms.
With Steve holding Peter's ankles and walking up the stairs backward and with Tony holding Peter under his armpits walking forward, they were making far more progress than they had been before. Their heavy breaths echoed throughout the never-ending stairway, awkward and exhausted.
"Sorry for yelling."
Steve frowned for a moment but understood, nodding and shrugging.
"No. Sorry for having such..." he glanced down at Peter again guiltily, "...terrible aim."
Tony snorted. "I thought super soldiers were supposed to be able to do anything."
Steve thought about that. "Not everything."
Silence for the next flight of steps. Steve cleared his throat.
"To be fair, I don't really use guns. Rarely, if ever."
"I know. I make your weapons."
"Right."
"Still don't forgive you for bringing Bruce here, though."
"What was I supposed to do, Tony? There's nowhere else for us to go, at least not right now."
"I don't know. God, I don't know. But here? In the middle of the city?"
"Again, what was I supposed to-?"
Steve tripped on the landing. Tony started, losing his grip.
"Shit-Grab him! Steve, grab him-!"
Neither of them was fast enough. Peter tumbled down the steps, crashed into the wall at the landing below, and melted into the ground again, unmoving.
Tony and Steve gawked at him for only a moment before Tony slapped a hand to his forehead, running a tired hand down his face.
"...We're idiots."
Steve huffed in agreement. Tony jogged down to the landing to get his kid, wincing as he carefully lifted Peter's head off of the ground and cradled it, checking it extensively for blood.
"I think we're good in the neuro department. Here, help me get him up."
"Tony, I can carry him the rest of the way. Really."
"After your little slip-up just now? No, thank you."
"You're not all that innocent. You lost your grip too."
Tony said nothing, gesturing for Steve to come down. He complied, jogging down to meet the two and taking hold of Peter's ankles.
"On three. One..two.."
They both grunted as they resumed their hold of Peter. Steve rounded and began walking backward up the steps.
"I suppose I should tell the kid to lay off the, uh...Delmar's sandwiches."
"You kidding? This is pure muscle in this kid."
"Yeah. I know that."
Steve's lip quirked in a smile. Tony frowned.
"What?"
"You're so...protective. You're like a Mother Hen."
"Yeah? And what about it?"
"Nothing, nothing. It's just...it's a good look on you, you know."
"What? Being constantly stressed?"
"Sure. But it's called Fatherhood, you know."
Tony clenched his jaw as they rounded another landing. "I'm not his dad."
"He's your kid, Tony. You call him that."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"No, it's not."
"I don't want to overstep."
Steve thought before he spoke this time, his eyebrows furrowed. Tony could tell he was attempting to sugar coat it, but whatever work he was doing in his head proved useless to soften the blow of his words.
"You held him when he died, Tony. There's no overstepping, there's no overlap. You're a part of him."
Tony's breath was taken away from his lungs for only a moment before he spotted the door to the medbay floor. He gestured to it in relief.
"This door right here, Capsicle."
Steve turned over his shoulder and nodded, pushing the door open with his foot and guiding them inside. He looked around and found a cot, leading them toward it and laying Peter down on top of it as gently as possible.
Tony immediately rounded the cot and crouched himself over Peter's bedside, worriedly petting his kid's curls.
He found himself instinctively, habitually leaning in and placing a kiss on Peter's forehead. He closed his eyes and held it there for a moment too long, sniffing and clearing his throat rather obnoxiously.
"Well?" Steve breathed, hands on his hips. "What now?"
Tony blinked. "Don't look at me. I'm a genius in my own respective field."
"What, you have no idea what we can do to get the drugs out of his system?"
"...I guess I was praying that help would be here by the time we got all the way up here."
"...Damn."
With a sigh, Steve crossed to the other side of the room and retrieved two chairs, bringing them to Peter's bedside. Tony mumbled something in gratitude and collapsed into it, reaching for Peter's hand selfishly. Steve leaned back in his own chair and watched with a knowing smile.
"Quit staring at me."
"Where do you want me to look?"
"I don't know. The wall."
"Okay."
Steve didn't listen, continuing to watch Tony worry, to watch the way he swallowed down his dizziness, the way he trembled slightly in concern. Tony kissed Peter's gloved fingertips, enamored.
"I'm supposed to be able to protect him now."
Steve looked to Tony, gaze questioning.
"You know, after something..." he sighed. "big, and uh, terrible happens...you're supposed to be able to avoid it in the future. Like...like your kid dying. I'm supposed to be able to prevent that now that it's already happened."
"Tony...he's not dying. And he didn't die all those years ago. You brought him back. You did."
"It was supposed to be once, though." Tony turned to look at Steve, his eyes glossed over. "I'm only supposed to bring him back from the dead...once. Can't do it again. Once is...it's already too many times."
Steve's face etched with worry as he brought a hand to Tony's shoulder, studying his bloodshot, exhausted eyes.
"When was the last time you slept?"
Tony shook his head and ran a tired hand over his face, breathing in a recalibrating inhale. "I don't know. Last night for like an hour."
"Do you avoid sleeping?"
"Of course I do."
"Are you seeing anyone? A therapist?"
"Don't need a shrink, Cap. I tried that once before. I just...need to be with him."
Tony gave his kid's hand another squeeze. The stress, the agitation, the mind-numbing worry...it melted again when Tony reverted back to staring at Peter's peaceful, albeit knocked out face. He licked his thumb and wiped the blood off of Peter's cheeks in every spot he could find.
Steve smiled again. "Oh, yeah. You're definitely his dad."
"Shut up."
Steve huffed out a laugh, rose to his feet, and made his way for the door.
"Where're you going?"
"To wait out in the hall so that you can get into that bed and sleep next to your kid."
Tony forced out a scoff, stunned by the mere suggestion.
"I don't need to-"
"Yeah, you do. You need to sleep just as much as you need that kid glued to your hip. I got you both into this mess, I'll handle the aftermath. Rest."
Steve clicked the door open. Tony turned back to his kid, waited for the click of the doorknob, and released a heavy sigh before he was both defeatedly and victoriously climbing onto the bed and laying himself down next to Peter, tucking the kid into his side and draping an arm protectively around Peter's shoulder.
Tony stared up at the ceiling in thought. He craned his head down, kissed Peter's curls, and closed his eyes.
Yeah. Rest.