The End Game | MCU FanFiction

Chapter 13

Peter and Michelle were playing, rather trying to play, a board game (youth these days), when they heard the door open and voices coming in.

"Come on, honey. You need it."

"I don't need anything. I've been in bed for weeks, I need the stretch- no! I'm not going to use a wheelchair!"

Slowly, but surely, they could hear two pair of feet coming over to the two in the big living space. Finally, they saw Pepper walking in, holding Tony's arm to help him walk properly.

"God, this makes me feel old."

He had barely finished his sentence, when he was brutally knocked over by a teenage body. He quickly sat up straight, feeling dizzy and noticing a headache starting to form.

All of that was forgotten in an instance, however, as he saw who had knocked him down.

Sitting between his legs, curled up as a ball, looking smaller than Tony thought humanly possible, was Peter, clinging onto him for dear life.

Now, Tony had never been comfortable with hugs. He never had received hugs growing up, apart from some very special people, sometimes his mom would pull him close for a minute, but he could count the amount of times that'd happened on one hand. He had been trying to loosen up a bit at human contact, for Peter's sake. But honestly, no one could be prepared for this.

He had absolutely no clue as to what he should do, his head still fuzzy from the fall. He looked up helplessly at Pepper, who made a movement with her arms, silently telling him to hug the kid. Once Tony's fuzzy brain understood, he (awkwardly) wrapped his arms around the young boy, still a bit tense.

But when he felt the kid lean into his touch, his body relaxed. He let his body slump for once as his arms held the boy close to his chest, his face in the teen's soft curls. He breathed in the scent he had grown to recognize.

As he held the boy close, nothing else mattered. Not the people in the room staring at them. Not the headache forming in the back of his head. Not the fact that the world seemed to be spinning. No, he only felt the presence of the young boy in his arms, who he had grown to love as he were his son.

Because no matter how hard he would deny it if you asked, he had really missed the boy as he'd been having to wait in that stinking, overly crowded hospital, hooked up to machines, barely being able to even think straight because of all the painkillers (*cough* drugs, he hated it).

As he melted into the touch of the young boy, he could feel the kid pressing his head into his chest, clinging onto his shirt. But even though it was muffled, he could clearly hear the words coming out of the kid's mouth, words that he knew he'd never forget.

"I missed you, Tony."

And even softer, thinking the man couldn't hear him, he added;

"I love you,"

Tony may have always made himself appear big and tough, but he knew full well that it was all a facade. It was all to protect himself. To protect himself from being broken again, as he knew it would only be a matter of time until he couldn't take it anymore, and would be broken beyond fixing.

But he'd always had a soft spot for kids. Maybe, it was because of their innocence. Maybe, because they were (or were supposed to be) still whole. Not as damaged as he was. He had seen it in Harley, he could see it in Peter. They still wanted to explore, still had that innocence that only kids could have.

So when the boy had whispered those words, they were full of admiration. The kid looked up to the older man, and he didn't want to lose him. He didn't want to admit it (though everyone clearly knew, he wasn't good at hiding stuff like that), he saw the man as a father.

But Tony sure as hell had heard those words, and I can guarantee that they melted straight through the walls surrounding his heart.

For once, even his iron heart melted.

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