Chapter Text
Tony’s trip to Britain was planned to have been a few months. Go with a few of his inventions, more than a bit of money, and his genius mind, set up an English branch of the rapidly expanding empire his father had built in Stark Industries, come back to America with quite a bit less money, but quite a bit richer, and carry on life as normal but with a branch overseas in a historic move (who else could claim they had an international company in 1912 after all?). Simple. The plan had not involved coming back to America with a bit less money, but quite a bit richer, and with a kid. Peter Parker managed to lay waste to all his best plans. Including the one of never becoming a father. Especially that one.
It was by pure chance that Tony had stumbled across Peter, when he had spontaneously decided to take a walk through the city. Peter would later like to call it fate, to Tony’s endless exasperated amusement. Peter had been huddled behind a set of crates in an alleyway, curled in on himself to make himself as small as possible, stifling sobs. Tony, to this day, had no idea why he didn’t just awkwardly back away before he was spotted and put the situation out of his mind. Instead, he had approached the boy.
“Hello there,” he said softly, but the boy still startled. His face shot up to look at Tony in alarm before he scrambled up. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” The boy was still looking at him warily but he was leaning heavily on the wall. Tony’s eyes darted briefly down to his leg. It was the first real look he had of the boy and Tony couldn’t say he was well pleased with it. His clothes were low quality, obviously old and obviously treated with as much care as possible, but they were still filthy. The kid’s face was grimy except where there were tear tracks and where they had smudged across his cheeks. Then there was the blood. On his lip, his cheek, his hands, his trouser leg. His eye was bruised. Then Tony focused on his eyes, and he almost wanted to take a step back. They were brown, ordinary eyes, but they were also anything but. The boy was looking at him warily, yes, but there was a fierceness there, a spark. Tony, even if just for a moment, saw himself.
“Are you alright?” he tried asking. The boy didn’t respond but Tony kind of expected that, he just slumped further into the wall. Tony sat on the ground near him, not thinking about the expensive material of his suit, and just looked at him expectantly. Slowly, the boy sat down again, eyeing Tony distrustfully, but seemingly not having a choice about taking pressure off of his leg. They looked at each other for a while, neither saying anything.
“You’re American.” The boy finally said, voice a bit hoarse but Tony was pleased to hear it.
“Actually, I’m Tony.” The words were out before he could stop them and he closed his eyes, suppressing a groan at himself. But then… a small giggle. Tony’s eyes shot open, staring in wonder at the smile on the boy’s face, his eyes were glittering. It was one of the best sound Tony had ever thought he had heard. He smiled back.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Peter,” he said shyly.
And that was their beginning. Later, after Tony had persuaded Peter to eat what he gave him, after he had somehow persuaded him, after days, to come stay with him in his manor (that was a gift to his father from his friend Lady Carter), after he had earned his trust, Tony learnt Peter’s story. He almost wished he hadn’t, such was it filled with tragedy, if he wasn’t rejoicing in every bit of the kid he uncovered. An orphan who lost his remaining family and was rejected by others. His orphanage was closed down and he chose the streets over the workhouse, fighting to survive ever since. Forever the outcast.
But to Tony, Peter was amazing. He was a bright child, though perhaps he was getting too old for that title at 14 years of age. Never the less, the fact remained that Peter had untapped potential, the likes of which Tony hadn’t seen before. He loved looking over Tony’s blueprints, brainstorming ideas with him, tinkering around with him in his workshop. And Tony, for once, didn’t mind sharing those activities with someone else. In fact, after a while, he began sensing Peter’s absence like a hole unfilled, and he knew that he was there to stay.
He brought it up one day while they were both in the workshop. Tony fidgeted with a scrap of metal for a while, gathering his courage.
“Peter?”
Peter looked up from the print he was pouring over. He cocked his head slightly in question.
“You know in a few months I’m returning to America?” Tony watched the smile slip from Peter’s face before he turned his head to face the prints again.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I – how would you feel about coming with me?” Tony asks, focusing his effort into making sure it sounds strong, confident. The last thing he needed was for his voice to waver and for Peter to take it to mean that he didn’t really mean it.
“What?” Peter’s head snapped up again. “Really?”
“I mean, yes. If you wanted to.” It was Tony’s turn to avert his gaze, staring at a point behind Peter’s shoulders. “You don’t have to, of course. Your whole life is here. This is your country and home and -”
“Tony.”
Tony’s mouth snapped shut. His heart was pounding. He was sweating.
“I would love to go with you. But are you sure? This is - ”
“I’m sure,” Tony cut him off. He didn’t need to hear the rest of that sentence. “I want to you to be with me. You can be my official… ward or something.”
Peter smiled shyly. “I’d like that. Thank you. So much.”
Tony waved it off awkwardly. “No problem, kiddo. We leave on the 10th of April.”
“Wait - ” Peter’s eyes widened as the wheels turned in his mind.
“On the RMS Titanic,” Tony finished, smirking.
“Wait, what?” Peter shouted. Tony laughed as Peter began hounding him with question.
Peter couldn’t stop bouncing. He didn’t know where to look, his eyes darted around, trying to absorb as much as he could. The RMS Titanic was huge! He knew it would be, after all it was the most talked about event of the year, but he hadn’t expected this. The sleek black drew the eye across its expanse and up, towards the 4 golden chimneys. It was gleaming. And the crowd was so large at the harbour Peter had half feared, while they were in the car, that they wouldn’t get through at all. It was a bit too noisy for his taste but it just added to the lively, excited atmosphere, making his heart race. He looked to Tony next to him, only to find him already looking at him with that soft look, like he was staring at a particularly cute kitten.
“This is amazing,” Peter told him, fighting down a blush. Tony looked at him like that quite often but he could never get over it. Tony looked around, the crowds and yelling not seeming to faze him in the slightest. His eyes went to the ship. He hummed.
“You could have designed better. It’s a bit simple,” Tony said, eyes returning to Peter. The blush rose again and he ducked his head, shaking it softly. It only lasted a moment before he was back to looking around. A particularly loud shout made Peter cringe and slide closer to Tony, finding him ready, slinging an arm around his shoulders and beginning to steer them towards the ship.
“Wait, are we getting on there now?” Peter asked, shocked. Tony glanced at him.
“We’re first class, Pete. We get to board first.”
Peter grinned, heart racing again. The ship loomed even bigger the closer they got, Peter having to strain his neck to see the top.
“Daddy, daddy! Up!” Peter heard to his side and looked over to see a young boy tugging at his father’s trouser leg. The father swooped down and lifted the boy onto his shoulders with a smile as the boy squealed. Peter watched them with a smile.
“I’m not doing that to you, so don’t go getting any ideas.” Tony calmly said into his ear. Peter whipped around to see him smirking. He snorted a laugh.
“Don’t worry, I know old men like you have too fragile backs to do stuff like that. They’re barely strong enough to lift their canes.”
“Oi! Watch it, squirt.” Tony shoved him lightly as Peter laughed. “Who corrupted you like this? You used to be the sweetest boy in England.”
“What can I say? I’m like my old man.”
“If you call me an old man one more time, kid, I swear I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”
Peter was laughing so hard he barely noticed that they had reached the beginning of the plank up to the deck. His excitement came back full force and he practically began bouncing in excitement. Tony’s arm slid more securely around his shoulders, slotting him in closer to his side as they began the climb up.
Dinner that night was held in a large hall with an elegant set up, green leather chairs and flowers in the middle of the tables gave a pop of colour in the otherwise white colour scheme. Luckily, Peter had gotten used to dining in the Hampstead House the last few months, then in the Winchester Manor, and so wasn’t too overwhelmed with this one. It didn’t even have a chandelier.
After they were served, Peter decided to bring it up.
“Tony?” Peter began tentatively. Tony hummed as he brought a spoonful of soup to his lips. “I was wondering… I mean, you of course don’t have to say yes – it might actually look odd – it’s a bit weird. I’m still getting used to stations and everything so maybe this isn’t actually allowed, but I was just hoping – not that it would upset me greatly if the answer is no but-”
“Peter,” Tony cut in smoothly, an amused smile on his lips. “Don’t you worry about stations or weird. I never cared about that stuff. Or what’s allowed or not. Just ask what you want.”
“Okay.” Peter took a deep breath. “I was just wondering if I could go down to the engine room. See the workings of the ship and stuff. Maybe talk to one of the engine boys or engineers about it. You know.”
“I do know. We share a mind when it comes to these things. You can, of course, do that tomorrow. Just make sure you wear some suitable clothes so when they are inevitably ruined, it’s not a big deal.” Tony ruffled his hair. Peter grinned at him, grateful.
“Thank you!”
“No need for thanks. It’s what I would have wanted to do as well. And it’s always good to be curious as long as you are careful about it. And do be careful down there, Pete, I don’t want to hear that you’ve fallen into the engine or something similar.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. Then I can tell you all I’ve found out!”
“I’ll be eagerly waiting. But you have to have breakfast first, come up for lunch, and be done by dinner at least, got it?” Tony looked at him sternly
“Yes, d-tony. I promise.” There was a slight blush on his cheeks from the word that almost slipped out of his mouth but his voice was sincere.
The next night, dinner was indeed filled with chatter as Peter regaled Tony with all he had done since he had last seen him, after all, he had told him about his morning when he came up for lunch as promised.
“- and then we went to the third class area and danced! We all danced, and it was crazy! You should come next time!” Peter carried on excitedly, Tony having to periodically remind him to eat a few bites before he was talking again.
“Oh, I don’t think they would appreciate having me there, kid, but I’m glad you had so much fun today. You planning on doing it again tomorrow?” Tony cut another piece of his fillet mignon neatly, before nudging Peter to do the same for his. A waiter walked by with a platter of oysters, and Tony wrinkled his nose. He could never stand them.
Peter thoughtfully chewed his bite. “I think I do want to go down to the engines again tomorrow, but I want to spend the time after with you. If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay, Peter, I would never turn down time with you.”
Peter ducked his head and messed with his hair as he blushed. “Thank you.” Tony just pressed a hand to his shoulder briefly in response.
Peter kept going down to the engine room. The men down there never minded and quite a few were willing to answer his questions. He even got to shovel some coal into the fire at one point!
He also very much cherished the time he spent with Tony, just like he always had, but he had a new appreciation considering once they land in America, Tony would be returning to his real life, with his people and company. His attention will be more divided than it was now, and he won’t have the same time to spend on Peter. Peter knew and understood that. He didn’t mind as much as he would have a few months ago; he knew his place in Tony’s life, and though he has yet to say the word, it was very clear what Tony was to him.
One night, Peter found that he couldn’t sleep. He had tossed and turned, but to no avail. He sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair and looked over to Tony’s bed. He was passed out cold and Peter didn’t want to wake him up. He stood up, and, slipping on some overalls and his shoes, he decided to go down to the engines. Maybe if he shovelled some more coal, the heat and effort will tire him out enough to sleep. The boys there surely wouldn’t mind the break. With that in mind, he set off to complete his mission.
Peter never got to tire himself out that night, at least, not in the way he had planned.
He had been shovelling for what only felt like a few minutes when there was a jolt. Briefly looking around, he saw nothing out of the ordinary and returned to his work. Next time he looked up was because there was a commotion.
“We hit it. It scrapped our starboard side!”
“What’s happening now?”
“No one knows for certain.”
“How did this happen?”
“- compartments are flooding.”
Peter’s eyes widened at what he was hearing. But it couldn’t possibly be about what he thought. He turned to the boy next to him. “What’s going on?”
The boy’s eyes were equally wide. “We hit an iceberg.”
“But it didn’t do anything, right?” Peter asked hopefully. The boys wide eyes turned to him.
“No. It did something alright. The ship is flooding.”
Peter’s heart was racing. “What does that mean?” His voice was wavering. He knew what it meant.
“It means you need to get out of here, kid.”
“They are beginning to get people into lifeboats. We need to see what we can do down here,” a voice yelled out.
“Go on,” the boy told him before running off. Peter turned and climbed up to the main deck in a daze. This couldn’t be happening.
It was happening. The main deck was chaos. People running and yelling and screaming. The ship was flooding. It was sinking. This wasn’t possible. It was supposed to be unsinkable. Peter remembered excitedly telling Tony all about the Titanic’s 16 watertight compartments. The haze lifted and Peter suddenly felt adrenaline flood through him. Tony. He had to find Tony.
“Tony!” he yelled, beginning to search for him. Peter entered the fray of people, all going different directions and no one really knowing where they were going. “Tony!” He was getting shoved in all directions, barely making it a step before being pushed back again. He was getting desperate now. He didn’t know what was happening or what was going to happen and he was scared. He wanted Tony. He wanted his – “Dad!” the word ripped out of him. Uncontrollable. Unsinkable. It was supposed to be unsinkable.
“DAD! DAD!” Peter screamed, beginning to run, dodging between people, searching desperately for Tony. First class were boarding the boats probably. First class board first after all. So that’s where he would be. Peter just had to get there. He ran faster than he had ever run, breaths panting out of him, heart pounding, his lungs were beginning to burn.
Suddenly he was grabbed by the collar, momentum choking him as he was dragged backwards.
“Where do you think you’re going?” an angry voice barked out and Peter looked up to see a man in uniform glaring at him. “All you engine boys are meant to be working. Not trying to escape with people you don’t belong with.”
“No, you don’t understand – I’m not one of the engineers or an engine boy – I’m first class, with my – with my dad – I need to find him.”
“As if I’d believe that.” The man sneered down at him and Peter couldn’t really begrudge him his scepticism when he was in grubby clothes and had charcoal on his face, but he was now more terrified than before because the man was dragging him back the way he had come and Peter needed to find Tony.
“Please, I’m not lying – you have to believe me – I just want to find my dad – please.” But all Peter’s begging fell on deaf ears and he could feel tears beginning to choke him.
“DAD!” Peter screamed out, praying that Tony would hear and come running like he has every other time Peter has needed him. “DAD! DAD, PLEASE!” he sobbed, tears falling and the man dragged him all the rougher.
“PETER!” Peter’s head jerked up at the yell, searching urgently for the source. And there he was, Tony running towards him in a rumpled, half drenched jacket covering his pyjamas, fire in his eyes. Peter lunched towards him, only to be dragged back once again by the grip the officer had on him.
“Please, see, that’s my dad, please let me go to him.”
The officer looked between them for a moment and it was long enough for Tony to finally reach them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tony demanded, an eery echo of when the officer first grabbed Peter. Tony immediately dragged Peter from the other man’s grip into his arms, wrapped tight around him now. Peter burrowed into his warmth, sweet relief filling him so that he could cry. He was pretty sure he actually was crying. Or just hadn’t stopped since he was grabbed. “He’s with me. Excuse me.”
And with that, Tony began quickly directing them towards where people were boarding. “What the hell was that?”
“He thought I was crew. One of the engine boys,” Peter panted. They were almost running.
“Of course he did.” Tony groaned. “You have the worst timing and worst luck I have ever seen.”
“Can’t be that bad. I got you after all.”
“This is no time for being sentimental Peter.”
“Actually I think this is the perfect time.”
“We are going to be fine. There will be plenty of time later. Now come on, they are calling for the women and children to board first and I’m getting you on one of those boats.”
Peter stopped abruptly and turned to Tony. “What?”
“What?” Tony looked equally confused but also harried, he kept glancing at where the life boats were. “The women and children are boarding, now come on.”
“No.”
Tony whipped around to stare at him incredulously. “No? What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean no,” Peter stared at him intently, “I’m not getting on a life boat without you.”
Tony let out a disbelieving laugh. “This is really not the time for this, Pete.”
“I’m serious.”
Tony’s eyes hardened. “No. You’re getting on one. You are surviving this.”
“Not without you.” Peter was resolute, the two locked in a staring match.
“Peter-”
“No, don’t you see? I have nothing without you. I have no home, no family, nothing. It’s all you. I can’t lose you. Please don’t make me.” Tears fell down his face like they were racing, eyes beseeching as they begged Tony to understand.
“Peter,” Tony’s entire being had softened as he looked at Peter sadly. “You can make it to America. We aren’t that far. You can have a whole life there.”
“I don’t want it if it doesn’t have you in it.” Peter flung his arms around Tony, hugging him tightly and felt Tony reciprocate.
“Oh Peter.”
“Please,” Peter sobbed. There was silence and Peter sobbed more. “You can’t make me get on that boat. I will jump off.”
There was a long, pained sigh and Peter felt something wet drip onto his hair where Tony’s face was pressed. “Ok.”
Peter stilled for a moment then pulled back slightly. “Really?”
There were tears in Tony’s eyes. “Really. Though, I really, really hate this.” Peter gave him a small smile.
“Yeah, I know.”
The boat jerked all of a sudden, bringing their surrounding into focus: the yelling and screaming, the creaking of the boat as it was torn apart, the waves crashing harshly against the sides.
“You’re First Class, can’t you get on one?”
Tony’s mouth twisted. “No, it was women and children first, one of the officers was letting men through as well after, but I had to find you.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter sniffled.
“Don’t be. I can’t live without you either.” He ran a gentle hand through Peter’s hair, leaving it there for a long moment.
They were jolted as the bow of the ship began sinking into the water. Peter gulped.
“Tony?” Peter asked in a wavering voice.
“What happened to ‘dad’?” Tony asked him, forcing a smile as he watched the water rise on the decking. “Alright, Pete, we have to move to higher ground, come on.”
“It’s all sinking.” Peters eyes were glued to the rising water.
“Yeah, well, we can increase our chances of survival, and not give up first. Come on.” Tony grabbed him, beginning to pull him upwards. The climb got steeper as the ship’s bow kept sinking but they gripped handrails and anything they could find. It seemed pretty much everyone else had had the same idea as everyone was rushing towards the stern of the ship, screaming and shoving their way up. Peter could feel the tight grip Tony had on him and he tried to return the favour. He could see people falling over the sides, into the water, and he wanted to throw up.
Some were jumping off.
The angle of the ship was increasing, more people were falling off. More people were jumping but that was another thing Peter didn’t want to think about. He just kept following Tony.
“Come on, kid, we have to stay on this ship for as long as we possibly can.”
Peter involuntarily glanced over the edge, gripping the handrail tightly. There was a sea of people down there. He didn’t stop to see if they were moving. Then his eyes widened.
“Dad!” Peter said urgently. Tony followed his eyes. Then cursed. The unsupported stern and the propellors had lifted into the air.
“Come on.” They started moving again. Up, up, up. The angle was getting ridiculous. They were almost vertical. They were almost to the stern when the lights flickered then went off. Peter didn’t want to think of what that meant, only that it was suddenly so much darker. And there was the horrifying sound of metal bending. Suddenly, there was a cracking sound. Peter’s heart froze as he turned to look. The ship was cracking open, all the way through.
“Hold on!” Peter was suddenly pressed to the handrail, Tony’s body covering him as they both gripped hard. Then they began falling. Peter was pretty sure his stomach fell more than the rest of him. He screamed, eyes squeezed shut, knuckles white. Tony breathed heavily into his ear, the sole portion of warmth in his body. He kept screaming the whole way down. They landed harshly on the water. Some people’s grip wasn’t strong enough and they were yanked down into the darkness below. And all Peter could think about were those dark specks of people he had seen that were under them, that were now crushed. He sobbed. There was more crashing noises above the shrill screams as the gorgeous chimneys came tumbling down, destroying yet more of the ship, and crushing yet more people.
“No, no, no, no,” Peter whispered. Death, death everywhere. It was everywhere he looked. Too much of it. Too much death.
“Peter. Peter.” Tony breathed. He didn’t bother saying a useless ‘it’s going to be okay’. It wasn’t going to be okay. They both knew that. Then they were being lifted up again as water filled the gap between the two pieces the ship had become. Peter sobbed.
“Not again. Please not again.” His voice was barely a whisper. Tony’s arms came around him tightly.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Peter.” It was the only thing he could promise. They held tightly to the rail and Peter could see the whole process repeating itself, but faster. The stern was quickly being lifted again, the angle harsh, people slipping and falling down, losing their grip, crashing into each other on the way down. Scream, screams, screams. Peter had his eyes squeezed shut so as to not see the mayhem, the people - so many people - falling to their deaths. But he couldn’t block out the screams.
“Alright. Peter? Peter!”
Peter whimpered, blinking his eyes open and focusing them on Tony and Tony alone.
“Okay, we have to move fast, before it gets too high. I have a rough plan. You see that piece of ship over there? Like driftwood.” Tony pointed at it, trying to keep his arm as steady as possible with the shaking of the ship. Peter nodded quickly. “We’re going to jump and I want you to swim to it when we hit the water. We both will and we will meet there if we get separated. It should be big enough for us both. It’s far enough to be safe from the ship sinking. Okay?” Peter nodded again. “Peter, tell me the plan.”
“Swim to that piece of driftwood. Meet there if separated. Big enough for us both.” Peter said through chattering teeth.
“Good boy.” Tony squeezed his shoulder, resisting the urge to try and rub some warmth into Peter, knowing that he was going to lose even more in a minute. “Alright. Let’s jump.” They step up the edge, jerking as the ship tilted. Tony knew their time was running out but he couldn’t help but stop Peter, just for a moment. Peter looked over at him with confused, trusting eyes, wind whipping his hair into his face.
“I love you, Peter. More than you can ever know.” He whispered it to the moon and ocean and the wind delivered it to where it needed to be. Peter’s red eyes watered again and he hugged him tightly.
“I love you to, dad. So much.” They squeezed each other until the tilt of the boat became too dangerous.
“Alright, Pete, on the count of three. One.. two..” Tony watched Peter take a deep breath in, staring determinedly at the water, “…three.”
SPLASH.
Ice. Ice cold. It filled Tony’s every sense, whiting out everything else. Then it came back and Tony began to kick furiously, up. Up, up. He broke the surface, gasping for breath. The cold burned the inside of his mouth, his throat. But there was no time to think about that. A moment to breath and orient, find the driftwood, swim. Swim. His limbs were burning, but he had an objective. He had to get to the driftwood. Peter would be there.
Finally, the wood hit his fingers, made all the more painful with the numbing cold. He clung onto it as he regained his breath. But where was Peter? He looked around wildly.
“PETER!” he yelled out, one of many screams as the second half of the boat stood vertical and began to sink, people falling and being swallowed up. “PETER!”
There. A figure fighting to swim against the suction the ship was creating as it sunk. “NO!” Tony immediately kicked off again, swimming towards the struggling boy, watching him go under for increasing amounts of time. Tony reached him just as he went under again and quickly yanked him up, holding him there as he coughed up the water he had inhaled.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Peter.” But they could only stay for mere moments, Tony could already feel the pull of the water. “Come on, kid, we’ve got to get to the driftwood, the safe zone, yeah? You’ve just got to keep swimming, yeah? Just keep swimming.” He felt Peter nod jerkily and began swimming towards the driftwood piece again, this time, making sure Peter was with him.
He had to help pull him along until they got out of the suction zone, then Peter could swim better on his own. Eventually, they both surfaced near the driftwood and clung onto it. “Come on, Peter. Get on it, up you get.”
Peter weakly tried to lift himself out of the water and onto the surface, but couldn’t. He could barely lift himself a few inches before he sunk again, and the driftwood rocked precariously.
“Okay, I’ve got you.” Tony swam closer to Peter and grasped his waist. “Okay. One, two, three, up.” He grunted slightly as he pulled Peter out of the water and further onto the surface, the kid finally getting good enough leverage to scramble on. He quickly shuffled to the side and stared at Tony expectantly. A smile flickered over Tony’s face before he heaved himself onto the driftwood as well.
They caught their breath as they watched the Titanic sink until all that was left were waves and an ocean of people in the water. Peter cried, watching them try to stay afloat, watching the number decrease as time went on. Tony pulled him into his chest, pressing his face against it and covering his ears, trying to hide him from the world, protect him from it as much as possible, if only for a moment, to not see people they had spent the last 4 days with drown, to not listen to their ringing screams. Peter continued to sob.
They stayed huddled for warmth for a while after, Tony rubbing Peter’s back for the dual motive of warming him up and comforting him.
“I was going to make a joke about being dehydrated while being surrounded by water, but I think it would be ill timed,” Tony tried, his breath crystalising as it left him. The night air wasn’t completely still and quiet around them, but it was a near thing. Eery, with the level of noise there had been mere minutes ago, the screams and crashing still ringing in their ears. Peter squeezed him slightly.
“Yeah,” his voice was hoarse and broken. “But I appreciate it anyway.” Peter tilted his head so only half of it was pressed against Tony’s chest. He looked out at the ocean, away from the floating bodies. “This isn’t really how I thought I would die.”
“Peter,” Tony hissed. He felt a bit stupid doing it, considering their situation and current likelihood of survival but he still didn’t want to think about Peter dying. Peter tilted his head further back to look at him. They were both drenched from head to toe, but Peter still had tears on his face, and red eyes to match his nose.
“I thought I would die of starvation or someone would take it too far and that would be it.”
Tony’s heart was aching. He didn’t want to be hearing this. But Peter was looking at him and so he listened, though his mouth twisted.
“But that wasn’t the part that scared me the most. The thing that I was most scared of, was that I would be dying alone.” Tony sucked in a breath. Peter’s eyes glazed over slightly, as if he was looking back. “I would be dying alone. And nobody would care. Nobody loved me.” Tony squeezed him desperately and Peter’s gaze focused on him again, a small, exhausted smile teased Peter’s lips. “I’m glad that’s not true anymore. And that I’m not alone anymore. Thank you, dad.”
“Oh Peter.” Tony could feel the tears falling as he pulled Peter further into him. “I was alone too, until you came along. I didn’t know how much of life I was truly missing until you showed me. Thank you.”
“I suppose this is what being family means.” Peter smiled through the tears. “Being eternally thankful you have each other. Filling in the gaps of life.”
“How philosophical of you,” Tony teased lightly, wiping away some of his tears. He pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, a silent ‘I love you’.
“I have my moments.” Peter snuggled back into him pressing his own silent ‘I love you too’ into Tony’s chest. “Can we watch the stars please, dad? I haven’t seen them like this before.”
Tony didn’t think he could hear anything that would further break his heart tonight, but this did. “Yeah. Of course. We can watch the stars, Peter.” So they lay down on their driftwood, curled together for warmth as the cold air burned their skin, and they watched the stars.