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“…Sir?” the worried voice of Jarvis penetrated through Tony Stark’s apathy, causing him blink back into his conscious mind and back into his body; the agony barely being kept at bay by his determination alone. The pain his body had to endure from the last three days – and had it really been three days? It didn’t feel that long, it felt like Coulson (oh god, Coulson) had only given him that briefing packet a few hours ago – hit him like Mjolnir again. The first (second, third) time had only happened a few days ago (or was it hours? Time was really diluted in his perspective right now) and his body was only now beginning to be register and complain about the damage done at that time (or could it have been the damage done from the Helicarrier’s engine blades? On the other hand, it could have also been from the battle currently raging on just below him. Tony really couldn’t tell anymore). The adrenaline coursing through his veins (might be the only thing coursing through his veins with how much blood he had lost) could no longer fend off the any of the pain.
Yet, even now, the agony could not compare to the constant pressure of the nuke he now guided on his back. Tony’s pain was not nearly as essential as the millions (potentially billions his brain added in the probability calculations of the effects of a nuclear fallout in New York) of people down below. He couldn’t let that happen. There were too many lives at stake. Innocence lives that did not deserve death, good people, people he wanted (needed) to protect. People like Rhodey (good Ol’ Rhodey who never gave up looking for him in Afghanistan when everyone else had) and Happy (who took Tony’s safety way too seriously) and Pepper (Pepper who was just Pepper) and there was the newly formed Avengers (was he even a part of the Avengers? Iron Man – yes, Tony Stark – no), and then…
“Sir?” Jarvis insisted again, the worry in his artificial voice thicker than before (and if he wasn’t too preoccupied at the moment, Tony Stark would have danced in glee at having created a true Artificial Intelligence with independent learning capabilities, because he never programed the AI with emotions. Now where would be the point in that?).
“Yeah, Jarvis?” Tony asked, swallowing thickly as the blackness of the portal became bigger and took up more of his vision with each passing second.
“Shall I make the call sir?” Jarvis repeated the question again. The worry was still there, Tony knew his AI too well to be fooled by the calm English butler façade (he god damn programmed J.A.R.V.I.S. after all. Although, he hadn’t programmed Jarvis, but he got to watch as his creation evolved from Just A Rather Very Intelligent System to the magnificent AI that was Jarvis).
“You might as well,” Tony affirmed as the HUD (which was blaring and flashing all kind of warnings at him) lite up with a familiar face. The words “calling” blinked across the bottom of the picture and the resonances of a phone ringing echoed throughout his suit. It was almost enough to drown out the noise of the missile on his back (almost, but not quite).
With each passing ring, the blackness took up more of the HUD. With each ring, Tony felt dread crawl further and further up his spine. With each ring, Tony felt closer to breaking the most important promise he had ever made. The promise he wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t try to conceal him dying, at least not without goddamn say something.
Then there was just blackness, coming closer and closer and…
And then the ringing stopped.
Instead, his ears caught the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. The phone call was picked up and an all too familiar (wonderful, gorgeous, stunning) voice echoed over the blaring alarms of the HUD and the sounds of fighting.
“Hello?” the voice was shaky, almost out of breath even, and heavily peppered with emotions. The predominate emotion being fear; fear Tony knew very well was for him. The genius could picture those striking eyes looking, watching him flying with a nuke on his back through a portal and not being able to anything. Again.
Not giving anyone (and if anyone else was listening in on this private conversation he was going to personally kill them and Fury, because Tony was sure he would somehow be involved, one way or another. Even if he was dead, he would make their lives a living hell) anytime to say anything, Tony blurted out all of the things that he wanted to say in an indecipherable sentence. At the same time, he pushed the last dregs of energy into the repulsors, changing the trajectory of the missile and him so they were perpendicular to the portal and the Chitauri ship that lay beyond.
“Oh god, sorry, I love you, sorry, never forget that I love you, I’m so sorry,” he would have gone on, but over the clashing sounds of battle he could hear the soft hitch. Another thing he was extremely familiar with, one which usually came right before the tears (oh god, he could not deal with the tears, not now). “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.” The venomous denial was rendered ineffective with the slight trembling and another shaking hitch at the end.
“You are,” Tony affirmed, his own chuckle watery and weak to his own ears. He could hear another explosion in the background and he could hear the screaming which was followed by a sharp intake of breath. The HUD was completely black now. He only had a few seconds left and Tony was going to make them count. “Listen to me.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, always have been, always will be. I love you.”
“I lo-” and then he was through the portal. Jarvis’s voice cracking in the back of his mind that the connection was lost even as he let go of the nuke. He didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what was going to be said, he just wished he could have heard it for one last time. It would have been more beautiful than the firework before him (and why were there fireworks again? Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something important? He couldn’t think properly anymore, not with the lack of oxygen).
Tony Stark’s last thought as he faded into the blackness (not of space, no he was already in space) was of the conjured words he so desperately wanted to hear one last time.
I love you too.
●-ͽϪͼ-●
“Close it,” Captain America ordered Black Widow. His voice was even and unwavering, but inside. Inside he was shaken to the core. This was the man he had accused of not being willing to lie down on the wire and that is just what Iron Man – Tony Stark – had done. Iron Man wasn’t just all flash and glamour as he had first assumed. Oh the man put on a good show, one that fooled even Steve at first. But Iron Man just proved him wrong, he proved that Tony Stark was a hero. A hero he had let down again, just like Bucky, Captain America could not save him.
Steve tried to watch as the portal closed around the sky, cutting off the blast of fire and radiation coming from the Chitauri mother ship and the nuclear explosion. He knew that it was his call which would doom Iron Man and Captain America should watch the outcome of his decision. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t watch letting another comrade down.
However, a gasp from his right, where Thor stood tall and watched unyielding as the portal closed, had Captain America looking up.
There, just as the portal finished collapsing in on itself, a red and gold haze could be seen against the pale blue of the sky. The fiery explosion having hidden the comparatively small shape of the Iron Man suit, but now, now on the clear blue sky, Captain America could see Iron Man falling through the atmosphere. Relief welled up inside of him and he could not help but smile.
“Son of a gun,” he all but cursed. Happiness cascading throughout him, a happiness which was slowly dissolving and his smile along with it as he continued to watch the falling figure.
“He’s not slowing down,” Thor gravelly voiced out Steve’s own thoughts. The man began to whirl Mjolnir, building up his strength in order to catch their obviously injured teammate.
Yet, the Norse god didn’t get the chance to lift off the ground when another took the chance away from him. A black and red blur swung between the skyscrapers, faster than any of the Avengers could realize what was going on, and shoot out what appeared to be a white rope to Captain America’s eyes at the distance. However, instead of lassoing around the falling Iron Man like the captain would assume, the string seemingly splattered against the red chest plate of the armor and stuck there. It kind of reminded Steve of webbing; whatever the white web like substance was, it coated the Iron Man suit, momentarily jerking the armor to a stop long enough for the black and red figure to catch Iron Man.
Captain America and Thor watched as the unknown person caught their injured teammate and swung away.
“Who?” Captain America asked, the fear creeping up on him again as the unknown figure spirit away Iron Man. He hadn’t just let some unknown person kidnap his teammate when he was vulnerable, had he? The black and red clad figure was a good guy, right?
“Spider-Man? When did he get here?” Hawkeye’s voice stabbed straight though Captain America’s fears of letting his teammate get captured. The comm crackling again, certainly damaged from the fight, cutting out some of the archer’s words before coming back online. “-nd where is he going with Stark?”
Another, slightly different in pitch, crackle burst into life and a soft, short breathing could be heard before Black Window’s came over the comm. “I have Spider-Man in my line of sight, he’s coming this way.”
“Where is he headed?” Captain America asked, slightly less worried that neither Hawkeye nor Black Widow seem to find this Spider-Man as a threat.
There was a considerable hesitation as Black Widow watched the web-slinging superhero make his way closer and closer toward her location before a gasp – one she would later deny – of surprise escaped from her tired lips.
“What?!” Hawkeye demanded, the adrenaline in his system spiking at Natasha’s involuntary show of emotion; something which was not like the master spy at all.
“Spider-Man just entered Stark Tower.”
●-ͽϪͼ-●
“Please, please, please be okay,” Peter prayed, his trembling fingers finally pulling the last of the webbing away from the arc reactor. He expected to see the familiar whitish-blue glow, he hoped to see the whitish-blue light, prayed to see the whitish-blue light. His heart plummeted at the absence of the soothing light. “Oh god, no, nonononono. This can’t be happening.”
His right hand flew to the faceplate of the Iron Man armor, yanking the gold plate away from the rest of the armor with minimal resistance. At the same time, his left hand pulled his own mask off, brown hair falling wildly into fitful brown eyes, and threw it across the room. Blood was the first thing that drew Peter’s attention when he got a clear sight inside the armor, something which he tried to ignore as his eyes desperately sought any signs life.
There was none.
“Dammit, Dad!” Peter yelled, slamming his fist down onto the chest-plate of the armor. His body hunched over the still form of his father, not being able to bear seeing another body of his parent to be lifeless. “You can’t do this to me,” the teen tried to hold back the sobs. He hid his face in the crock of his arm; his other hand slamming a clenched fist into the chest-plate once again. “Not again, you promised me. You promised!” Another slam of his fist on the chest-plate.
“But I called…”
Peter’s head snapped up and looked into love filled brown eyes gazed down at him. “Dad! Oh, thank God, you’re alive!” the teen howled, throwing his arms around his father’s neck. A grunt of pain was masked by Peter’s elation. “You’re alive. I couldn’t loss you too. I just can’t loss you. You’re alive. I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, Pete,” Tony said, an armor clad arm snaking around his son’s waist, who just clung tighter to him. It was only a groaning noise which had the teenager pulling back abruptly, looking down to see if he had somehow hurt his father. Brown eyes widened in horror as he realized that even though Tony was awake and aware, there was no whitish-blue light coming from the man’s chest.
“Nononono,” Peter denied, staring down at the darkened form of the arc reactor in horror.
Tony reached out, attempting to claim the hysterical teen down, “Peter.”
However, the boy was already up and stumbling across the floor as he tried to get his feet underneath him while running at the same time. Tony didn’t miss the way that Peter stumbled over Loki’s prone form, not so accidently kicking the wounded god as he skidded towards the secret safe. He couldn’t help but smile at the teenager, even as the pain in his chest started to increase and his already shallow breathing became ragged and uneven. The blackness was coming back again, creeping in at the edge of Tony’s eyes.
“Jarvis!” the teen snapped, momentarily bringing Tony back into full awareness as another round of adrenaline pumped through his veins.
“Yes young s-?” the AI started to respond, but the password for the hidden safe was already sliding off of Peter’s lips.
“Code Sigma-7-Prep-92-Alfa-Tango-2.”
A dark brick, one of the many dark brick that made up the bar area of the penthouse, suddenly sprung an inch out of the wall when the last number was spoken. Peter grabbed the brick and yanked it out of the wall, the lockbox crashing down on to the bar-top in the process. With an audible ragged tear, the teen ripped the right hand off of his suit and slammed his hand over the biometric scanner. Fidgeting all the while in the few second the technology took to verify his hand print.
“Come on, come on,” the teen muttered impatiently as the high- tech lockbox beeped constantly, the lights flashing red until one long beep had the light turning green. The lid popped open and Peter all but ripped the thing off its hinges as he made a grab for the source of the comforting whitish-blue light coming from within.
The next second, Peter was across the room again (giving Loki another kick along the way) and pulled his father to the closest unbroken window to prop the man up. His fingers trembling once again as he set the new arc reactor down next to him and went to unlatch the manual release of the armor.
“It’s going to be alright Dad, everything is going to be fine,” the teen said, not sure if he was trying to reassure father or himself. “You’re not going to die.”
A cold metal hand gently took hold of his own unsteady ones, stopping him from unlatching the barrier between him and the dead arc reactor. His eyes immediately leapt up to look into the calm comforting brown eyes which had become blood trailing across one eye, contrasting greatly with the already sickly pale complexion.
“I know Peter, I know,” Tony consoled, “you’d never let anyone die if you could help it. Let alone your old man.” The last part was meant to be said in jest and get at the very least a small crack of a smile out of his son, but instead he ended up gasping for air. This sent Peter scrambling for the latches that had been damaged in the battle and just wouldn’t open. In desperation, the teen prying the weakened chest-plate of the Iron Man armor off and threw it to the side somewhere with his mask.
The dead arc reactor was turned ninety degrees to the right before being pulled out gently and set to the side. Peter knew, even seemingly dead, an arc reactor could still be dangerous if it had been compromised and would likely explode with one wrong movement. Once the old reactor was taken care of, Peter quickly picked up the new one and worked on attaching the end to the plate at the bottom of the reactor’s housing. A task which he had familiarized himself with for just this very reason. With a soft click, the reactor was connected and a final push had it sinking down, snuggle in its rightful place in his father’s chest, and Peter could finally relax.
His father was safe.
“See, I told you I’d be alright. You should have more faith in your old man, I’m never wrong.”
“Liar.”
“Love you,” Tony whispered, pulling Peter into his side and holding him there (where it was safe, safe, safe. Never going to let you go. Would never let a nuke or anyone hurt you. I’m a selfish bastard, but all I want is you safe, alive, well, happy.).
“Love you too, Dad.”
●-ͽϪͼ-●
Steve just wanted to make sure Stark was alright, he was shaken up after making the call that almost cost the man his life and didn’t trust himself to calm down until he saw Iron Man was alive. He just needed to see Tony Stark alive and know that Steve hadn’t failed another. Not like he had failed Bucky, which was probably why he was so far ahead of the rest of the team in arriving at the penthouse.
Steve could admit to himself that he had misjudged the billionaire. However, that had not prepared him for what he found when he entered the penthouse and see what he had. His blue eyes immediately disregarded the destruction around the room, no doubt caused by the battle in one form or another. He stiffened slightly when he noticed Loki’s comatose form and kept himself partially aware of the god’s state even as his eyes continued to scan the room, looking for the distinctive red and gold form of Iron Man.
Captain America half took notice when Thor and Hawkeye came through the door behind him, hammer and bow at the ready just in case. Although, he didn’t know if the just in case was meant for Loki or Spider-Man. Hulk was only a moment behind the two, having climbed up the tower and came through one of the – thankfully – already broken window with Black Widow swinging in from the roof top right behind the big guy. Yet, the majority of the captain’s attention was on one particular corner of the room where the red and gold colors of the Iron Man suit occupied the space.
His eyes immediately locked on to Stark, who was leaning up against one of the few intact windows on the floor. The helmet to the Iron Man suit scattered in a few different pieces at the man’s side along with some small piece of technology which would have only come from the man’s suit; most likely from the torn off chest-plate from what he could tell. Cuddled up to the genius’s other side was a young teenage boy. The only thing that connected him to the imposing figure of Spider-Man which Steve had been imaging the hero to be was the black and red suit that covered his whole body save for the discard mask next to the Iron Man chest-plate and a torn off glove.
Twin pair of doe brown eyes looked up at him as Steve came to a halt in the room.
“Hey, we won,” Stark chirped out cheerfully, his hoarse voice and blood running down his face deterring away from the cheerfully façade. “Alright. Good job guys. Let’s just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day. Have you ever tried shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don’t know what it is, but I wanna try it. Sound good?”
“Sounds great Dad.”