"YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!"- The joys of parenting a Spider-Child

Titan

A little angsty drabble while you wait for the v v fluffy oneshot that I'm still struggling through writing. It's fighting me every step of the way.

Before the snap, the world had been colourful, full of noise and full of life.

Now it seemed dull, almost silent and dead.

Everything was too quiet, too deafening.

He clutched his fist, his ashen, dirt covered- no, it wasn't ash, it wasn't even dirt. It was Peter.

This thought only made him clutch his hand even closer to his chest, bringing his other hand up to cover it, silent tears falling from his eyes.

The one and only Tony Stark was a complete mess.

He'd lost his kid, and the closest thing he had to him was a handful of ash. Not even a body.

He wasn't sure how long he was there, rocking back and forth and cradling the hand that held the remains of Peter, before Nebula managed to get him back to Earth.

The entire time, he didn't let his hand uncurl, too terrified to lose the last pieces of the one bright, happy kid who had been so full of life.

The kid who had been terrified of death. The kid who had begged him to save him. And Tony had failed.

All too soon he was stumbling back into the Avengers Compound, and he looked around for Pepper, but saw nothing.

It wasn't until he went into the kitchen and gently and carefully emptied the ash, Peter's ash, into a glass that he noticed it.

Another pile of ash, on the kitchen floor- some sort of half prepared meal lay out, along with Pepper's phone and keys.

Tony let out a broken sob, bending down to scoop the ashes into their own glass, holding them both to his chest.

Peter's pile was smaller than Pepper's by far, the result of Tony not holding onto them tight enough on Titan.

Swallowing his grief and tears, Tony trudged down to the lab, then almost lost control of his emotions as he saw what lay out on his desk; Peter's old suit.

He felt a yearning to reach out, to grab onto it and hold it close, but he pushed the urge away to do what he'd come down here to do.

He grabbed a pen, paper and some tape, and shakily but somewhat neatly labeled the glasses- Peter and Pepper.

Then he set down Pepper's glass, then reached out, picked up Peter's old suit- the one he wore in Germany- and half-wrapped it around the glass with Peter's ashes in it, then cradled it close.

The kid had been his responsibility, and he'd failed. He should have sent him home; at least then he would have been with his family, not with him, a man with too much money and a gold titanium alloy suit who paraded around trying to convince everyone and himself that he was a hero.

A hero who let a kid die in his arms.

As fresh tears began to run down his face, he whispered a promise to the ashes of his kid.

"I might have failed you on Titan, but I won't fail to hunt down Thanos. I won't stop until I figure out how to get you back."

Okay I'm sorry for this but uh
I think it eased my depression
Cause like 50% of my depression is due to IW
The other 50% due to uh,,, personal stuff
So
Yeah

You can hate me if you want but fluff is coming your way so just you wait... just you wait...