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━ 𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐫.
In which Peter hadn't dusted away, but faces a sadder fate.
Tony was thankful that he hadn't lost his family. He was happy that the joyous kid, who obnoxiously hitched a ride on to an alien ship, was still with him. Rhodey, his friend for the longest time, was by his side in an instant as soon as their ship landed on familiar lands. His beloved wife, Pepper, pulling him into a hug and reassuring him that not all is lost.
And it's true.
Not all is lost. He has his friends right beside him, promising to never leave. His cheery child, Morgan, grown over the five years he spent in space. Tony doesn't brush away the tears when they come; he lets them fall. He's happy, and his heart is at content, despite half the population dusting right before their eyes. He hooks an arm around Peter, holding him close. He wasn't going to risk letting the kid go. He had imagined, nights before, the kid dusting away. It was a nightmare, always waking in a cold sweat beside the sleeping teen.
He kept an close eye on them, on Rhodey, on Pepper, on Peter and Morgan. He couldn't afford to lose them. He can simply imagine them, dusting away into thin air, and the simple thought alone deprives him from sleep. The remaining Avengers discuss the situation, ways of taking down the mad titan. Tony doesn't know how they could say things without breaking down, able to hold themselves together, without thinking of their loved ones disappearing right before them.
He shuts his eyes, blocking out whatever Steve had to say. The blonde always found ways to rile him up, even in the worst situations. He could hear Peter nervously kick at the floor, Rhodey nudging Steve away with a glare. He feels weak, any more jabs at his heart would make him break. He holds Peter close when Rhodey escorts him to his room. They both stay, laying beside him as reassurance. Tony couldn't believe how much he had changed.
The same Tony Stark five years ago, sitting in his crystalline tower. He didn't expect to befriend a teenager, but he had, and he did not regret it. The simple mention of Peter made him beam, grabbed his attention from whatever he was doing. He would sit on his couch, unbothered, even with the knowing fact that the attack of New York still lingered in the back of his head. He forced those fears away, spent time with those he deemed worthy of his time. Sat on the balcony, watching Rhodey and Peter fight in the pool, Pepper holding him through their days of hurt and contentment. He was at his most happiest.
Tony couldn't sit down without the need to make sure Rhodey, Peter or Pepper were alright. His hands would tremble when he thought about the isolating time he had spent in the abyss of space. The constant fear that Peter wouldn't survive on the ship, die in his sleep, die in front of him, losing air but ever so trusting in him. The fear of being blamed for the death of the unbroken Peter Parker. Blamed for dragging a stubborn teen into the world of heroes and villains, the place for the broken and hurt, no place for someone as green and unbroken as Peter.
