Irondad Oneshots

Carry the Message

I have heard your calls from the other side of Wattpad and I am answering them.

He is the Merchant I am the Messenger. (Cont.)

The sound of rapid thuds echoed around the room as Peter was met with the sight of his father hitting a punching bag.

Tony hadn't wrapped his hands. The knuckles were bruised and bloodied, and his face was set in a hard expression as he let out his anger.

Peter watched for several seconds, relief washing over him, and making him relax.

Tony had died. He looked fine now, but Peter couldn't forget the way his eyes had dulled, his body crumpling to the unforgiving ground.

He could still hear the wet sound of the blade sliding into his chest.

The choked gasp of pain.

He shook his head quickly, pushing the image from his thoughts.

"Dad?"

Tony missed his next punch, going off balance, and stumbled, bracing himself against the wall.

Peter stepped forward, holding out his hands in an attempt to steady the man. "Are you okay?"

Tony blinked, breaking out of his daze. "Peter?"

The teenager shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hey."

Tony stared at his son, face completely blank, except for his eyes, which were wet. "What were you thinking?" He said, his voice low.

Peter shrugged. "It depends on which thing I was thinking about. Cause to be fair, there was a lot going on."

"Dying," Tony kept his voice low, and sharp. "What were you thinking? Giving yourself up? For me?"

Peter met his gaze, uncowed. "I had a deal with her. I knew the consequences. I knew what would happen."

Tony swiped his hand over his face. "Pete, I should be dead. What could you have given up that was worth a life?"

Peter smiled softly. "Another life."

Tony froze, his eyes widening in pain, and understanding. "You didn't-"

"I'm not dying," Peter hastened to reassure him. "I- I may have given my promise of servitude, maybe? Like I have to be her ambassador. But it's okay! Because I'll still be here most of the time."

Tony dragged a hand down his face. "I'm not worth that."

Peter smiled softly. "You are to me. You're like the only person I would do this for. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to. And I'm fine. I'm back, and you're back, you're alive, so we should celebrate. Everyone else is."

Tony sighed, holding out his arms. "Come here."

Peter obeyed, willingly hugging his dad, and burying his face in Tony's shirt.

Tony didn't say anything when he felt a wet spot growing on his shirt.

"You died," Peter whispered. "You died, and I was so scared. I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to hug you again, or hear your voice again, or tell you that I love you, so, so much. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to fix it this time."

Tony ran his fingers through the teenager's hair, softly tracing circles. "It shouldn't have had to be you. You're seventeen, for gosh sakes. You're too young for this saving-the-world stuff."

They stood in silence for several seconds, and then Peter pulled back, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't see anyone else capable of doing it," he joked. "No one else had the power of death on their side."

Tony poked Peter's stomach, causing the boy to yelp, and jerk backwards. "We are going to have a talk about that, mister. But yeah. Let's celebrate."

The two rejoined the party, and were swamped with people, all chattering excitedly.

The team gave hugs all around, and Thor shoved a mug of some drink in Peter's hand, insisting that since he had saved the world, he was capable of drinking.

Tony promptly confiscated it.

Stories were told, and songs were sung, and the festivities went on long into the night.

Later on, Tony pulled Peter to the side. "I never actually got to tell you," he began. "But thank you. For saving my life."

Peter had turned serious, giving a quick smile. "Yeah, well. I couldn't very well let you die, could I? Who would I beat at Mario Cart?"

Tony had pulled him close, relishing the feeling of Peter being safe, after the initial terror of losing him.

And made a mental note to learn more about this 'Messenger of Death' gig.