Dark Irondad One-shorts

With all my heart-Stay_dancing

by-Stay_dancing on AO3

When he first wake up, it was all a mess in his head.
His mind was floating, floating in places that he never thought that he could remember or reach, there was a venomous pain in his body but his brain was floating in confusion and numbness.
The first that he noticed is that he had no idea who he was.

"Peter, wake up." - A woman with a long brown hair said, her face was blurry, he wanted to remember her, he felt like she was important but he couldn't.
He felt her gentle hand shanking his shoulder.

"I don't know why you think you leavin-"

"Peter, man... I think you should start avoiding this guy." - He listened to his friend but the advice fell in deaf ears.

"You are my favorite loser anyway." - The girl said and Peter felt himself getting red as a tomato.

"Don't you dare turn yourself against me-"

There was the mess of voices in his ears right, all of them scratching into his ears, whining, screaming, whimpering, begging, whispering but all of them always calling for: Peter.

Peter. His name was Peter.
In this almost trance state, he remembered things that he thought that the time had erased completely from his mind.
He could remember his mom, her laugh, her hair, her smell, the little frown that she would do almost everytime that his dad talked about their jobs.
He remember the feeling of her arms around him, nice and warm around him.
The feeling of security that their would bring to him made him remember her existence in his life.

"Petey, my name is Petey and Mommy is gonna give me a puppy for Christmas..."

And then was a huge nothingness in his mind, he remember his mom or at least who he thought that was his mom but where is she?

"The last time I saw my mom and dad I was four going on five-
I wake up and my aunt said that the plane had crashed."

Aunt? What aunt?

The pain - the pain was never going to stop at least in that moment it felt like it. - Everything felt broken, out of place, he couldn't move not even a finger.
The feeling was almost as a storm that forming around him and consuming all of his being and he knew that this was bad.

So he tried to keep himself in the few nice places in his mind, the ones that bring him some peace, the places that the pain was weaker as a wind, a whisper.

"My Daddy is a hero,
He help me grown up strong!
He always is in the right
and he know what is wrong!
My daddy tell me stories
and tell me where I belong!
I am a good boy that just
want to play along!
So with all my heart,
I gonna sing this song!
Because he reads me books, he ties my shoes. So Daddy, I love you!"

He would sing stupid rhymes like that all the trip, his Mom would clap her hands together trying to create a rhythm, his dad was too focused in the road to look at the baby seat, it was one of the last visits that they did for his maternal grandfather before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer.
It was a bad common in the Fitzpatrick's family.
He remember the beach, the waves in the sea. They were nice, so nice...

After sometime when dreaming about the soft waves and sun stopped being enough and a mixture of pain and awareness took over again, he realized that he should start asking himself where he was but he really didn't care at this point.
The only thing that he later would figure it out that wasn't just one messy memory in all this was a hand.
A gentle hand that wasn't from the lady with brown hair, it was slightly heavier and more affectionate in some way.
Almost like it was apologizing for something.
Then the hand got his jaw, forcing it open, he was afraid and tried to open his eyes but he couldn't, they were too heavy. Instead he felt something small going down his throat and then he felt nothing anymore: No pain, no fear.
There was nothing and he was happy.