SpiderMan Avengers One shots Dad!Tony

The Weight of the World

Hey guys so I have to go back to school tomorrow :( so I won't update as much and I don't know if I'll be able to update the rest of the week because I am going to Chicago this weekend for a dance competition which is out of state and I have dance Thursday and Friday. In honor going back to school sadness here is another chapter ;).

...

It has been a week. 

I have been back from the dust for a week. 

Not everyone came back to life though. 

Gamora. 

Loki. 

The one that hurt me the most... 

Tony Stark:

Iron man. 

Father. 

It replays over and over in my mind like a broken record. 

The sky is dark. 

Thanos is holding the gauntlet victoriously above his head. 

Dad runs forward. 

I yell at him to stop. 

Steve holds me back. 

I break from his grip. 

Thor grabs onto one hand and Steve the other. 

"DAD!" I scream. 

"I love you Peter," 

The next thing I see is his dead body laying next to a dead Thanos. 

We won the Infinity War but we lost so much. 

I sit on my bed. 

Staring down at my hands which grasp the last piece of my dad I have. 

His helmet. 

It is no longer shiny. 

It is scuffed, broken and battered. 

One of the eyes is cracked open, and their is probably more brown dirt then red and gold. 

If I try hard I can imagine my dad talking to me wearing the helmet. 

If I look hard I can see blood on the inside. 

His blood.

That makes me want to destroy it. 

His suit didn't protect him. 

But if I destroy it I won't have this piece of my dad. 

One of the most important pieces of him. 

I can't help but feel guilt eating at me. 

I should have tried harder. 

I feel guilt for Pepper. 

I am sitting here weeping over my dead father but I totally forgot about Pepper, she is a widow now. 

I hear a knock at the door. 

I don't answer it. 

I hear the squeak it makes as it is pushed open. 

"Hey Peter," says a deep voice belonging to Steve. 

He walks farther into my room. 

When I look at him I can't help but see the image of my father standing next to him. 

The two leaders of the Avengers, saving the world. 

It feels like a million tiny gashes cutting me everywhere. 

I wish it was just one big gash. 

That way it would only hurt in one spot. 

But it hurts everywhere. 

And once the small one heels a new one replaces it, deeper and more painful. 

"Steve," I say in a small voice. 

If I talk any louder I will cry. 

And if I start crying I won't be able to stop. 

"Are you hungry?" He asks. 

At the thought of food my stomach lurches. 

I shake my head no. 

"You haven't eaten in a week. You need food and water," His voice is soft and it is almost as if he thinks if he talks to loud I will shatter.

 The sad part is he isn't wrong. 

He holds out his hand to reveal a handful of crackers, and in the other hand a water bottle. 

I don't want food. 

But I take it anyway so he will leave. 

So I can sit in my sadness alone. 

"I'm not leaving until you eat it," Steve says, this time more authority in his voice. 

I shake my head. 

"I can't..." Steve takes a couple steps closer. 

"It'll be ok Peter," He whispers. 

His eyes are sad and puffy. 

Has he been crying?

He reaches out a hand then lays it on my shoulder. 

I flinch away at first. 

It reminds me of him. 

Of my dad. 

The pain pricing though me. 

A tear rolls down my cheek. 

Then another. 

Soon I am  sobbing. 

I set the bottle and crackers on the bed beside me and try to cover my face. 

I let out another sob. 

Through my watery eyes I can see tears falling down Steve's face. 

I don't know what, 

I don't know how or why, 

But I fling myself at the super soldier and wrap by arms around his neck. 

He hesitates for a moment then wraps his arms around me too. 

My sobs get louder and harsher. 

And so do his. 

After a long time our sobs quite down and I slowly let go of Steve. 

I sit on the bed but leave enough room for him besides me. 

I pat the area next to me. 

Steve slowly sits down. 

Without talking I pick up the water bottle and the crackers. 

I take a sip. 

The water rushes down my throat easing the soreness from crying. 

I then take a cracker and hand one to Steve. 

I bite into the cracker while staring at the beaten and battered red and gold mask. 

For once in the past week I don't think about how he died. 

Instead I think about all those times in the lab. 

I think about the stories he would tell me of the Avengers before the Civil War. 

I smile sadly. 

I used to hate Steve Rogers. 

I lean slightly against his side and he puts and arm around me. 

I don't anymore. 

Steve Rogers will never be able to take Tony's spot. 

No one will. 

The pain will never leave but it will hide. 

And maybe, just maybe Steve Rogers and I will help each other through the biggest, most painful, most joyous, game ever called life.