Shadowplay | Tony Stark

SIXTY TWO - A MISUNDERSTANDING

"It's alright Clint, honestly, I can walk. Thank you."

Peter's head snapped up from the ground, the silence that had filled the room he'd been sat in with Tristan, Happy and Rhodey finally breaking when he heard footsteps echoing down the hallway outside and the sound of the one voice he was desperately praying to hear.

He jumped to his feet and ran past the others, his stomach swirling with grievous anxiety that had almost made him physically sick, unable to deal with losing somebody else he'd grown to love like a mother.

Clint walked into the room first, holding the door open. Mila walked in after him, her eyes wide in panic but apart from the dried blood on her face, Peter was relieved to see her appear unscathed.

"Mom!"

"Peter! God, are you alright?" Mila grabbed his face in her cold hands and brushed his hair back, tilting his chin to check for any cuts and bruises while her eyes scanned his entire body in a matter of seconds.

"I'm fine Mom, don't worry. Are you OK?"

Peter's voice was unsteady and his eyes had filled with tears, overwhelmed with grateful solace once he could see for himself that his mother was safe and sound.

He'd tried to be calm for Tristan's sake, being the only person left that knew him well enough to calm him down while their parents were gone, though it had proven a difficult task for the teenager. He was in hysterics on the insides himself, an unfathomable amount of fear consuming his mind and making him unable to sit still for more than a few minutes, pacing back and forth feeling useless in such an important situation.

Peter knew he could've helped, he wanted to be out there with the other Avengers looking for his mother, but as he looked at the little boy sat in tears on the couch, he knew that cradling him and drying his delicate tears was the right way for him to help that evening.

"I'm alright, sweetheart," Mila nodded, feeling a weight lift from her chest when she hugged Peter tightly, his arms squeezing around her body with enough force to remind her that she was no longer falling, that she was safe, and so was he.

"Mommy!"

Tristan came running after his big brother and Peter selflessly took a step back, allowing Mila to crouch down and welcome her son with open arms.

She scrunched her eyes closed as tears started to fall again, part of her not being able to believe Clint when he'd told her that her children were safe until she held them in her arms herself.

"My sweet boy, Mommy loves you so much," she whispered, not loosening her grip on the child.

"Are you hurt, Mommy?" Tristan pulled back and held his mother's face in his hands.

His eyes were full of concern and Mila could see they were red from crying, though his cheeks were dry and he didn't appear distressed anymore. Instead of his own trauma, the child was more worried about his mother, which only made Mila's heart crumble even more.

She placed her hands gently on top of her son's, bringing them away from the sides of her face and to her lips, kissing his tiny knuckles as she looked deeply into his eyes.

"Mommy's fine, baby. Mommy is just fine, we're all fine, alright? Everything is OK now."

Tristan smiled and kissed her before hugging her again, Mila picking him up and settling him on her hip before pulling Peter into her, needing the strength from both of her children to carry her through such a heavy moment.

Clint wandered over to Rhodey and Happy, feeling rather emotional himself at the scene before him. He felt far too connected to the situation, relating as a father and as a partner to Tony and what he'd gone through that night.