Chapter Text
One breath.
Two breaths.
His nose was clear and the air flowed effortlessly. His body was relaxed, muscles melting into the soft sheets beneath him. His head was cushioned by his faux feather pillows that until now he’d never fully appreciated. He was lying in a cloud, he was certain.
“Good morning, boss. The time is nine forty-two am and the weather is currently eighteen degrees and cloudy with highs of twenty-two.”
Tony frowned, peeling an eye open to find his bedroom ceiling. He was in bed. Comfortable after a good night's sleep.
He craned his neck from side to side, looking around as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t had a good night's sleep since his parents died. Okay, that might be a small exaggeration, but for the most part, it was true. First, his parents, then almost losing Pepper, and then the wormhole. His nightmares had more fuel than a fighter jet and to experience a dreamless, uninterrupted night’s sleep was almost unheard of.
Wait… it was almost ten am?
Tony bolted upright, throwing back the sheets without remorse. “Fri, tell me Peter’s at school.”
“Master Parker left on time with Mister Hogan at eight o’clock,” the AI answered.
He sagged in relief, dragging a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Okay. Okay, did he have breakfast?”
“He had cereal.”
“Was he okay? Did he need me?”
“He was fine, boss. If he had needed you I would have woken you,” Friday assured.
“Okay. So… everything’s okay?”
“Yes, boss.”
Tony nodded, taking everything in. He’d had a lie in and everything was okay? The world wasn’t ending, the company wasn’t collapsing and Peter was at school. He allowed himself to smile, deciding his long sleep was something to be proud of even though he did feel bad he wasn’t there to make Peter breakfast.
May had thrust the kid and her trust into him a little over two months ago, four months since the ‘Civil War’ as the reporters anointed it. Tony thought it was corny. May had first asked for Peter to stay over when she had three night shifts in a row and couldn’t ask Ned's parents to take him again. Tony’s face must have been a picture, questioning her as if to say ‘you really trust me to keep a kid alive for three days?’
The doubt had never gone away, even now Peter spent at least two nights a week at the Tower. Something in the back of his mind was waiting for him to slip up. He was trying so hard not to be Howard, to do everything to keep Peter happy, that it almost felt inevitable he’d fuck up. But not today. Today Peter made his own breakfast and Happy had taken him to school and everything was fine.
He threw his legs over the bed and jumped up with a spring in his step. “Friday, what’s Pepper's schedule today?”
“She currently has back-to-back meetings until four pm.”
“Send her some flowers, will you? The usual place.”
“Of course, boss.”
Tony smiled. Today was going to be a good day.
Coding, Tony discovered, was so much easier with a clear head. Maybe he once knew that in school, but he’d forgotten it in college either way. Drinking and sleepless nights were no cure for grief, and even when that subsided, the nightmares remained.
But today was different. Today he was well rested and it made him feel like a whole new person. He hadn’t even reached his caffeine limit for the morning yet.
He was three hours into the most productive lab session of his life when Steve called. He had music blaring loud, head in some new nanotech as blue holograms swirled behind him.
He glanced up when he heard the buzzing, ordering the music off. He frowned, trying to find a reason for Steve to be calling him before he swiped to accept the call and pressed it to his ear.
“Well if isn’t my favourite super soldier,” he drawled sarcastically.
“Tony, we’ve got a situation.”
“And here I was thinking you just wanted to check up on me.”
“I’m sorry. I wish it were different.”
“Maybe another time,” Tony said lightly, jumping up to head to the flight deck outside the lab. “What’s happening?”
“There’s a group of six guys robbing a bank.”
“I’m sorry, people robbing a bank? Normal people robbing a bank?” He interrupted incredulously.
“They have alien tech, Tony. It looks like it’s been salvaged from the battle of New York.”
Tony swallowed thickly. Peter had mentioned he’d seen alien tech on his patrol, but he’d brushed it off. Well, he asked Friday if she had any reports of alien tech in a thirty-kilometre radius and she’d said no. Then he brushed it off.
“They have hostages. The police are too afraid to intercept, they said one of the guns melted a car.”
“Shit. Looks like a job for us.”
“I’ll send you my location.”
His phone pinged and he opened the map. “I’ll be there in five.”
Tony landed next to Steve in four minutes on the outskirts of Brooklyn. A personal record, but then he was never trying hard to reach Steve before. It turns out a clear mind temporarily quenched the remaining bitterness he held towards the man.
They’d ‘settled’ their differences once Barnes had been sent to Wakanda and Steve had returned, having been pardoned thanks to Tony, with his tail between his legs.
“So what do we have?” He asked, flipping his helmet up as they peered around the corner across from the robbery.
“There’s six of them, all armed. Police counted three hostages.”
Tony nodded, taking in the scene. He could only see four of the men through the glass windows, four hostages cowered into a corner. The men were dressed in black jeans and hoodies, balaclavas covering their face up to their eyes. Typical.
Three cop cars surrounded the vehicle, officers hiding behind the open doors with guns.
“And the police are?”
“Waiting for a window of opportunity, but they’re outgunned, Tony. This isn’t a normal operation.”
“And that’s why we’re here. Where’s everyone else by the way?” He asked, looking around for signs of anyone else from the team joining.
“I couldn’t get a hold of them.”
Tony grinned. “Admit it, you just wanted me because I’m your favourite.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but the left side of his mouth tugged up into a smirk. “You have a plan?”
“Oh, my plan has already started. Friday’s currently scanning their weapons for the source. At least one of them can be taken out with the right frequency.”
Steve blinked, looking impressed for a moment. “And the rest?”
“Hell if I know, but…” he clenched his armoured right hand into a fist and shook it forward, activating the nanotech shield. It burst to life, covering him from below the knee to inches above his head.
“What is that?”
He admired his handiwork smugly. “Oh, just something I put together this morning. Very early doors and I probably shouldn’t use it yet, but I am a genius and I'm eighty percent certain it’ll work, so…”
“You made that this morning?”
“Amazing what a good night's sleep can do.”
“And what about the hostages?”
“I can get them out,” a too-familiar voice offered behind him after a small thud.
Tony gritted his teeth, spinning on his heels to face Peter who had landed on top of a car parked next to the sidewalk. “You should not be here.”
“But I saw the news and-“
“You have school,” he interjected firmly.
“But this is important!” Peter argued, effortlessly jumping down from the car to stand in front of the pair.
“So is algebra.”
“But Mister Stark, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you about! I can help.”
“We could use the extra hands,” Steve said.
Tony huffed a breath out of his nose, lips pressed into a line as he considered the spandex-covered kid in front of him. Even wearing a mask he could tell he was giving him those hopeful doe eyes that never failed to make him crack. “Fine. But you’re helping the hostages and that’s it. These weapons are dangerous and I haven’t got around to making your suit bulletproof yet.”
“I thought you’d put everything in this suit?” Peter teased.
“Go in through the back,” he said, pointing to the other side of the building. “Use Karen to talk to us.”
“I won’t let you down,” Peter promised animatedly as he shot a web and swung away.
I know you won’t , Tony thought fondly, watching him go.
“You good?” Steve asked.
Tony looked up to find him concerned. Steve initially chewed him out for bringing Peter to Germany, but the kid gave him a piece of his mind and proceeded to tell him very maturely that he hated him for what he did to Tony and the billionaire couldn’t say he wasn’t touched. Peter hadn’t spoken to Steve since, but whilst Steve admired him, the kid very much still hated him.
“I’m fine, let’s go before the kid steals all of the fun.”
Tony snapped his face plate down, eyes glowing as he gave an affirming nod to Steve.
The super soldier took off around the other side of the block, running so fast that Tony felt a rush of air through his suit. “Spider-Man, confirm when you’re in position.”
“Just - ah,” there was a loud clunk followed by what sounded like something heavy and metallic scraping across the ground. “Bingo.”
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, the back door was reinforced like crazy. Had to break in.”
Tony tutted, watching the men with the weapons. He didn’t recognise any of the guns, but by the shoddy appearance, it looked like they’d been adapted by whoever stole them and made them into weapons.
“Two of the weapons can be stopped by a high-frequency radio wave. I have identified two others with Chitauri energy cores and the other is unknown,” Friday informed.
“On my signal, send the frequency wave.”
Friday didn’t respond, but he knew she was ready.
“Okay, I can see the hostages. I’m in position,” Peter said, sounding almost excited.
“Same here,” Steve added.
“On my count. Three. Two. One. Now, Friday!”
Tony burst around the corner, flying straight through the windows that acted as walls around the front of the bank. They shattered and people screamed, but Tony didn’t stop, flying directly into one of the guys, who he’d determined was probably the leader, and sent him crashing into a wall. The weapon clattered to the ground next to his body, now unresponsive in a heap.
“Playtimes over,” Tony announced, taking the gun with one hand and blasting a guy to his side with another.
The man yelped, falling back and gripping his shoulder. These guys weren’t cut out for being criminals. Rule one, never drop your gun, yet there the second one was, lying freely on the ground.
“Stay down,” Tony ordered, recharging his blaster and pointing it at his face.
He glanced up, seeing Steve successfully taking down two guys at once. One of them managed to take a shot but it missed by miles, incinerating some of the ceiling.
These guys were useless. Possibly the most powerful weapons in the world were at their hands and it was still the easiest take down Tony had experienced in a while.
He looked back to where the hostages had been huddled in a corner to find them gone. His head snapped to the window he’d crashed through and found the police were on hand taking them from Peter and wrapping them in blankets.
Tony smirked. This was too easy.
He turned back just as Steve smacked his shield into the last guy's face, knocking him back a few meters before collapsing. “Nice work, Cap.”
“That was so awesome,” Peter exclaimed, panting heavily as he landed next to them with a crunch from the broken glass.
Tony would scold him for calling a potentially perilous and terrifying experience awesome later, but right now there were more pressing matters. “Go back to school. We’ll deal with this.”
“Come on,” Peter complained before his eyes snapped to something behind Tony. “Oh shit.”
He followed his gaze, turning to find the first guy he’d taken out now on his feet and shaking like a deer in headlights. He had a standard shotgun aimed at Tony’s chest. He figured he must have had the gun as a backup in his jacket or something. Either way, it didn't matter.
“Give it up, you’re done.”
The man shook his head, eyes darting between the three of them.
“What are you going to do, huh? Shoot me?”
The man swallowed, gun still shakily held out in front of him with his finger jittering on the trigger.
“I don't know if you’ve realised, but even one of your science project guns couldn’t hurt me.”
The man clearly didn’t get the hint and a shot rang out. Tony practically rolled his eyes, blocking the bullet with his right arm which deflected away.
“What did I-“
But then he registered it. A surprised gasp behind him escaped Peter seconds after the gun fired. He frowned, turning to check on the kid. ‘What?’ Was on the tip of his tongue as he turned, but the words were torn from his mouth the second he saw the kid's wide lenses and hand pressed to his stomach.
What? Pete? What’s wrong? He wanted to ask but nothing came out. He was frozen, watching as Peter pulled his trembling hand away. It was covered in blood. His hand, his suit.
He’d shot him.
The bullet had hit him .
“Peter?” He breathed, waiting for the kid to laugh and walk away as if this was just a figment of his imagination. It had to be. This couldn’t be real.
Peter didn’t walk away.
He fell to his knees and the only reason his face didn’t hit the ground after was because Tony somehow forced himself to surge forward and grab him.
This was real. This was happening. He’d shot his kid.
“Peter?” He asked, gripping his shoulders so he could turn him to lay him down on his back.
He hated putting him down on the floor, but his brain was telling him there were things that he needed to do. Once he was sure the kid was in a secure position on the door, he looped his fingers around the lower lining of his mask and pulled it up off of his face. He tossed the material aside, finding Peter’s wide, terrified eyes staring back.
“Hey, hey you’re okay,” he promised, intertwining hands before lowering them down to put pressure on the wound.
There was so much blood.
He could already smell the metallic stench that came with it. The only thing holding him together right now was the suit. If he’d felt the kid's blood, hot and sticky on his bare hands and coating his fingers, he’d have probably collapsed.
Peter's breath hitched and a single tear fell out of the corner of his eyes, streaming into his ear as he pressed down harder.
He wished he could brush the tear away. He wanted nothing more than to trade places with him. Hell, he’d have taken his suit off and given the guy a free shot if it had meant Peter was safe, but he wasn’t. Because of him. “Stay with me, kid. Help’s coming.”
“M-Misser S’ark,” he spluttered and shit he sounded terrified. His lips were pressed tightly together, no doubt gritting through the pain and whilst Tony wished he didn’t have to be awake for this, if his eyes slipped closed, Peter wouldn’t be the only one needing an ambulance.
“I’m right here. You’re okay. It’s just you and me, kid.”
Suddenly he felt something on his hands and he risked a glance to find Peter shaking hands settling on his. Now he hated the suit being there. He wanted to rip the goddamn thing off to feel Peter’s hands on his one last time. To think of all of the times he’d held his hand, or hugged him or squeezed his shoulder so nonchalantly. He should have cherished every moment.
No. He couldn’t think like that.
“Hurts,” Peter whispered and more tears began to pool in his eyes. He could follow the remaining colour drain from the kid's face with his eyes. Everything was black and white after that. All but the blood that swam around his metal-covered hands.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I'm gonna fix it, okay? I’ll fix it,” he promised, not breaking eye contact even as his vision blurred with his own tears. “Just hold on. You’ll be okay.”
Peter nodded, forcing a small smile through his ragged breaths, but his eyes began to flicker and his shoulders sagged. Slowly, his hands fell away from Tony’s.
“No, no. Peter, stay with me. You gotta stay with me,” he pleaded, wanting nothing more than to haul the kid into his chest and hug so tightly that it made everything go away, but he couldn’t move his hands. He tore his eyes away for a second, looking up to find EMTs rushing in with a stretcher.
“Help!” He cried uselessly before looking back down at Peter.
His eyes were closed.
He’d looked away for less than a second and he’d lost him.
“Pete?” He croaked, desperately looking for any sign of movement. His face was relaxed, mouth ajar, but he wasn’t breathing through it. His nostrils weren’t flaring.
“Peter!”
His chest wasn’t rising.
He wasn’t breathing.
He’d killed him.