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Another blast of energy hits Tony square on, and the chest plate of his suit cracks further. He stumbles backwards. So much for Mark 47 being the newest and coolest upgrade. "Kid, this mission is over for you. Hear me? Go home."
"Are you kidding me? I'm not just gonna leave you!"
"I'm an adult, I can handle myself," Tony grits out over the intercom. Peter was going to get himself killed if he didn't get out as soon as possible. The threat they were facing wasn't as small as Tony originally expected, and it's his responsibility to get Peter out of dangerous scenarios safely. Now the kid just actually had to listen to him.
The robot they were facing, some Ultron-lookalike, threw another punch that cracked open Tony's helmet. Tony spit the blood that filled his mouth out onto the pavement. "You're gonna regret that, iron giant."
Peter swung around and tried webbing up the robot's legs, but the webbing melted off the sides. "What the— Mr. Stark, I can't even touch this guy! What am I supposed to do?"
"Go HOME," Tony stresses, firing repulsor beams at the robot and swerving out of the way of flying rubble being tossed at him. "It's targeting me, Pete. Not you. Now scram, because I won't ask again."
"Good!" Peter calls out. He threw a chunk of cement at the robot's head, and made a sound of annoyance when it didn't even make a dent. "It was getting repetitive! Already told you I'm not going anywhere."
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., be a dear and shut down Peter's suit," Tony commands. A voice doesn't answer back to him, and swears up a storm that even Peter seems impressed by. "You are so lucky robocop broke my helmet, kid, or I swear to—"
Peter yelps suddenly and leaps in front of him, just as an iron bar is hurtled at his broken faceplate.
Blood splatters against Tony's face. When he opens his eyes, Peter is on the ground in front of him.
The kid completely silent other than his unsteady breathing, shaking as he looks down at his lower ribs where the iron bar had gone through and through. Blood is gushing from his side and making a puddle below him. The shock is apparent in every part of him.
Tony chokes on the air he gasps and drops down to the ground. "Peter! Kid, look at me. Look at me, you're gonna be fine, hold on, hold on, damn it!"
"Mr. Stark, there's--I have a--Oh god. Oh god." Peter heaving breaths so quickly that the lenses on his mask are flickering, and fabric near his mouth is moving frantically. Tony reaches up to shove the mask off his face, and nearly hurls when he sees how pale the kid is already. His lips are blue, and his eyes— he looks terrified.
"It's okay," Tony breathes. "It's okay. I'm gonna fix it, Pete. Stay calm. F.R.I.D.A.Y., get me some help here. NOW."
An answer doesn't show up, and Tony widens his eyes as it settles in what's going on. No helmet. No F.R.I.D.A.Y. He reaches for the Spider-Man mask and yanks it on. "I need you to call an emergency ambulance. Send police. Send Avengers. Send everyone. This is a blaring code red."
"Sir," Karen says quickly. "You need to stop blood loss. Peter is dangerously close to dying."
"What do I do?" Tony asks, pushing the kid's sweaty curls from his face. Peter was shivering. "C'mon, kiddo, just breathe, please. Please please please."
"Don't remove the object," Karen warns. "Apply gauze and other cloth-like materials, towels, shirts, etcetera around the object to staunch blood flow."
"I don't— I don't have any of that!" Tony yells, looking around frantically.
Another piece of cement is thrown towards Tony from where the robot was standing across the yard. The blood in his body boiled and Tony stood up. "Karen, e.t.a on any of the Avengers?"
"No response from any of them yet. I sent out the alarm code."
"The one time they're late," Tony said, his voice shaking. "How do I take this guy down?"
"I am not programmed to give battle strategies with the Iron Man suit technology. Uploading the files from F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s databases would take an estimated time of five minutes. Boss, Peter is bleeding out."
Tony fired multiple blasts at the robot to distract him and turned back to Peter, who was reaching for the rebar coated in his own blood that stuck through his entire chest. "Peter, if you even think about touching that wound, I'm grounding you forever!"
Peter blinked slowly up at Tony, sweat dripping from his forehead and down his nose. His face was purely white. "Sorry..."
"How long does he have before—" Tony's voice wavered.
"...I suspect two minutes, boss."
"God. Start downloading the files. Send another emergency signal out. Send as many Iron Man suits out here to distract this son of a bitch as you can."
"Sir, I do not have access to the Iron Man suits, it goes against the—"
"Override the fucking code!" Tony snapped. He yanks the mask off his face and tosses it to the ground, seeing the abundance of suits launch into the sky from far away.
Then he turns his attention to Peter. Sweet, young, innocent Peter, who was now bleeding out, and Tony could hear the wet labored breathing coming from Peter's mouth in wheezes.
"Oh, kid." Tony stepped out of the cracking suit he was wearing. Shucking off his suit and dress shirt, he presses it around the rod through Peter's chest. "Please stay with me. C'mon, keep your big brown eyes open, alright?"
"Tony," Peter gagged, spluttering blood from his lips.
"That's me," Tony promised. "I'm here. I'm right here with you. Just keep looking at me."
Through the background of explosions, the whirring of several machines, repulsor blasts, fracturing rubble and everything in between, Tony was only able to focus on the sound of Peter as he fought to stay alive.
"Come on. Come on, bambino. Few more minutes. Hang in there." Tony knew he sounded desperate. He was desperate. He couldn't lose him. He couldn't.
He had heard stories about how once your children are born, it's like you're living with your heart outside of your body, and he's never understood that more than now. Peter wasn't even his biological kid, but he knew, he knew right now that if Peter didn't— if his kid didn't survive this, then his heart would be in splinters beyond the repair of any mechanic. It would die right with him, right with Peter, right now.
Tears fell down Peter's cheeks. His eyes looked grey and distant, but Tony could still see that flicker of light in there. He wipes the tears off Peter's cheeks ignoring how the blood from his hands smears the only colour onto the kid's face, and how cold the kid's cheeks were on his fingertips. "I don't think you can fix it. I'm--I'm scared."
"I've got you," Tony whispered. His voice cracks, but Peter isn't coherent enough to notice it. Two minutes surely was rounding its clock. He didn't dare close his eyes. He kept a hand on the vein in Peter's neck, to assure himself of the slowing heartbeat.
Slowing doesn't mean stopped.
Tony was never a religious man. Even when his parents died, even when kidnapped in Afghanistan, even when in the wormhole that spiraled emptiness across his vision, there was never any thought to pray. But Tony was hopelessly thinking anything he could to make sure Peter got home safe, to make sure Peter survived this.
He didn't know or care if it was coincidence or a miracle, but the shadow of a ship passed over the two of them and landed on the ruined remains of where the fight was taking place. Unequivocally and irrevocably late, help had finally arrived.
Tony scooped Peter up in his arms and marched to the ship, holding his breath so he doesn't have to inhale the sickening, drowning stench of blood.
The only response from Peter was a low groan of agony. Tony had never been happier to hear anything in his entire life.
"Never again," Tony promised, and pressed a kiss against his son's sweaty forehead. He was going to be okay.
It was going to be fine.
(When the kid wakes up, nearly two days and several blood transfusions later, he doesn't remember any of this. Tony doesn't tell him, but mostly for his own sake than for Peter's. This was already going to haunt his nightmares for several years; probably the rest of his life.
"When I tell you to go home, you go home," Tony snarls.
"You could've died!"
Tony gives him a dangerous look. "Ohohoho, you did not just go there."
Peter was scolded till he fell asleep again. Tony honestly couldn't care less.)