GOOD JOB, KID! ( irondad &&. spiderson oneshots. )

NOTHING MORE THAN EMPTY DREAMS.

I: NOTHING MORE THAN EMPTY DREAMS.

❦ 

(  Trigger warnings include panic attacks, implications of PTSD and insomnia.  )

Anything beyond his bedroom seemed invisible to Tony Stark as he tossed and turned uncontrollably. Two-thirty in the morning, and he hadn't slept this rough in a while. The silk sheets were crumbled, thrown over his fiancée without a care for the destruction he was causing within the shared bed. In his restless slumber, a thin coating of sweat glistening atop his forehead in the almost starless night.

Terrified last words echoed around Titan, but Stark could only focus on one person.

"I DON'T WANNA GO!"

The scream thumped against ivory bones. Hit against the bars of his mind like a bird might in it's cage. Months had passed, but Peter Parker's sorrow-struck face refused to leave his subconscious. He was so young, only sixteen, and he already had Earth's future resting in the palms of his ink-stained palms. Stark couldn't believe he put so much pressure on the teen. Peter was too young to die; he was too young to have gone through that. He didn't deserve it. Tony blamed himself. He blamed himself. It was his fault. His fau━━━━

" . . . I'm sorry."

Tony's grip had started to falter on Peter's shoulder and his apologetic mien never once left Tony's mind. You have nothing to be sorry for, Tony wanted to say. The words were mere ghosts upon his tongue, to forever be lost within the verse of things never to be said. He could hear himself from the year prior, "and if you die, I feel like that's on me." And he's never spoken more regrettable words than that. The upbeat boy was thrown off cause; the usually bright chestnuts now reduced to red-rimmed empty voids.

Tony could see, feel, the boy disfiguring beneath him. His legs. His lower body. His chest. His arms. His face. It only took a few seconds, but to Tony, it felt like an eternity. He didn't dare move, didn't dare to bring the boy into a hug. He could've comforted him, said something more than "you're alright," but he didn't. And that's something he'll forever hold against himself.

In his sleep, digits gripped the bottom sheet tightly, not wanting to see his protege disappear again.

Before he could even think, Peter Parker was gone. He was reduced to nothing more than a pile of black ash which seemed to blow away in the subtle breezes of the desolate planet. Hands made contact with where he just was but  .  .  .  he was too late.

The panicked breaths wouldn't stop ( oh god, what have I done? ). He was supposed to protect Peter Parker, help him, support him. It was his fault. His fault. His fau━━━━

And, just like that, Tony Stark was awake. He sat there for a moment, teary-eyed and tight-chested.

When Peter had returned, Tony was the first to tackle him into a hug. Years of built-up emotions exploded within him, and tears began to run glistening tracks down the stress-induced withering face. At that moment, the only person that mattered was Peter Parker. The kid. His kid. He who was far too good for the sorrow-filled life he was born into. Apologises slipped left, right and centre from the older man, yet all Peter was doing was mumbling nonsense about how it wasn't his fault. He couldn't believe how good-willed the kid was ━━━━ he couldn't believe that Peter wasn't blaming him.

His heart was a gun in his chest as he clambered his way out of the bed. His sight was dimming too quickly for his liking. His hand pressed against the headrest to steady himself, and his gazes flicked back to the woman he shared the bed with. She just looked so peaceful, so at ease . . . Tony couldn't find it in himself to wake her up. The sight of the beauty that he shared his life with was enough to bring a warmth to his heart, a sense of humanity. But this time the attack got the best of him.