Irondad Oneshots

Is this a hug?

Behind Tony, Peter could see the wizard staring at him. He held up a finger, expression soft, sad, and Peter knew. He knew what was about to happen.

Knew better than anyone, because maybe he knew Tony best, could see through him like a glass pane that continued to shine until broken.

And he shouldn't be broken.

He deserved more than anyone to live his life.

But he would give his up to save theirs.

Tony was human, just a man; the only thing protecting him was his armour, and while it was strong, it wouldn't be enough. The raw power of the infinity stones would simply burn through it like acid.

Peter, though, he had healing, and strength that rivalled Captain America's. There was no chance of Tony surviving the infinity stones, no way that he could come out on top, but at least Peter could have a chance. 

Just a chance.

The thought terrified him, not the death, but of leaving behind the same loss he had felt so many times.

Death wasn't a foreign concept to him.

Death was the red blood that bubbled up from the lips of an injured man.

Death was the rattle of the last breath in lungs.

Death was being told his parents wouldn't return.

Death was the last flicker of understanding in his uncle's eyes.

Death was cruel, unmerciful, and unkind.

And he couldn't let another parental figure give in to it.

Tony lunged at Thanos, hands grasping for a hold around the gauntlet and trying to pull it off. Inch by inch it slipped, armour reacting to Tony's touch more and sliding off Thanos' fist. 

"Mr. Stark!" Peter yelled, swinging a circle around him and Thanos. "I've got you!"

Tony's eyes darted to him in acknowledgement for a brief second before Thanos lashed out, knocking Tony back.

Before the mad titan could pull the gauntlet back on Peter shot out a web and pulled, and the gauntlet came with it. It fell into his arms with a quiet thud and Peter darted back, away from an angry colossus, and he stared at the weapon in his hands.

Was this the future where they won? What if he was doing the wrong thing? He looked up, eyes seeking out Doctor Strange in the fray. He knew, he had seen the future, the ruin of them all. And he had seen their salvation.

The man inclined his head, barely an inch, in a nod that knocked the air out of Peter's lungs. Stephen Strange had seen every possible outcome, and the one that would save them all required this. 

"Come on Pete!" yelled Tony, stumbling to his feet. "Hand it over, kid!"

Peter felt eyes on his from all around the battlefield.

Watching. Waiting.

People on his side waiting for him to give it to Tony, for him to run for safety, or to throw it to another ally.