Chapter Text
Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark did in fact have a heart before he became Ironman. Every single Make-A-Wish employee knew it. Tony was on the incredibly short list of people that had never declined a request no matter which country the request came from, and he made sure the child had a memory - a lasting one, something meaningful.
A mysterious 2 million dollar donation to relevant research always seemed to follow closely after these visits - almost like clockwork - on top of the 10 million Stark Industries donated to Make-A-Wish every year. It was all a calculated move in many ways, of course. But for Tony, deep down, it wasn’t just about the numbers.
Privately, the people closest to him knew how much he cared, too. Pepper, Rhodey and Happy all knew he kept track of every child he met through the foundation. He could name them all, know exactly what their stories were, what they dreamed of, and what they had to give up. Every single memory he brought home - a toy, a drawing, a photograph - was on display somewhere in his home.
And when the inevitable came - when a child lost their fight- Tony made sure to attend the funeral, if he could, and he always paid for everything. Every expense. Without question. No matter what age. It was the least he could do for the children who had shown him more strength in a single meeting than many grown men would in a lifetime.
Tony met Peter Parker aged five, the day before the Expo in Queens. The board had been battering non-stop for him to move the meeting, claiming the day before the Expo was “too busy” for Tony to spend time with the kid and it was “an unnecessary distraction” - if anything that egged him on to overrun and spend more time with the kid.
Tony put on his normal smile, the one normally reserved for Rhodey, Pepper and Happy as he walked into the meeting room. He never knows what to expect. The kid's file was depressing to say the least - heart disease and a brain tumor (as a result of a plane crash that his parents did not survive).
As he closes the door a small child bounds up to him with the energy and enthusiasm only small children can have. “Mister Stark, Mister Stark! You HAVE to tell me how the arc reactor works! Is it because the hydrogen isotopes and deu-ter-ium and tritium react together? Is it? Because I asked uncle Ben and aunt may but they won't tell me!” Mentally Tony cries a little. This kid is an absolute certified genius and yet this kid isn't likely to make it to fifteen let alone college.
“I told you Petey, I'm not purposefully not telling you, I just don't know” his Uncle laughs, pulling Tony back to the moment. Tony smiles down at Peter.
“That kiddo, is a very good question.” He eyes to white board and pens in the corner and the ice cream station that had been set up specially. “How about we make the best ice creams ever, and I can explain it all to you, diagram and all?” The boy nodded his head quicker than Tony thought was possible and that's how they spent the next three hours: eating through the kids' heaven of a buffet, and explaining complex science not even 5 year old Tony would have understood.
At the end of the afternoon, after Peter had stuffed himself with more ice cream than seemed humanly possible, Tony posed for a picture with him in front of the whiteboard, where the drawings of atoms and molecules littered the surface. Peter, a huge smile on his face, held up his drawing of Tony in an Iron Man suit with a heart on the chest plate. The simplicity of it made Tony’s throat tighten all over again, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like everything that was broken in the world could be fixed with one of Peter’s drawings.
As Tony was leaving, Ben shook his hand, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Tony,” he said quietly. “It’s the most alive I’ve seen him in weeks. You... you really made his day.”
Three years later, Tony was staring at the framed drawing Peter did of Ironman of him processing what FRIDAY just told him; Peter had been diagnosed with early-onset Peripheral Spondyloarthritis, a degenerative disease that attacked the joints, causing severe pain and stiffness. Tony’s stomach twisted when he heard the news, why did this poor kid have to spend his little time in more pain?
Why did the universe have to be so cruel?
“FRIDAY,” he called out, his voice a little too sharp. “Bring up the top recommended charities for Spondyloarthritis - ones specifically for kids. The ones that are specifically recommended by people who actually have it.”