Taking Care of Things

It can be hard.

Tony Stark knew how it was handling the loss of a loved one. When he was only eighteen, he lost both his parents in a car accident. However, he had Rhodey and Jarvis to help him through it. He was never actually alone. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. That didn't mean he didn't lay awake every night going over every conversation he had with his mother. Doesn't mean he doesn't stand in the shower and blankly recall the arguments that often occurred with his father. Doesn't mean he didn't ache every goddamn time he tried to remember what their voices sounded like. Tried to remember his mother's smile. Her laugh. Tried to remember her. 

He never wanted Peter to feel like that. 

Tony knew that by the time he met Peter, he had already experienced loss. Way more than a child of his age should have. His mom. His dad. His uncle. Tony couldn't imagine. And how he still managed to not only get up every morning, but go out and save the world? Tony couldn't lie. He admired the kid more than he was willing to let on. 

When Peter called him one winter evening, voice shaky and racked with sobs, Tony had frozen on the spot. He had been working on a new model of Spider-Man's suit and slightly marveled at the coincidence of Peter calling right then. He had given the teen his phone number after the whole Vulture thing, claiming the boy needed an emergency line to Tony if anything were to happen like that again. That had been too close of a call. He didn't need the boy dying. Not on his watch.

He had answered the call, expecting another confirmation of their plans for that weekend. Peter still refused to believe Iron Man had invited him over to test out a new suit model, and perhaps provide input on a few of the new features. Tony was just excited to see the kid again.

When he heard Peter's broken voice on the other end of the line, though, his blood ran cold. His mind raced with possibilities of what may have happened. Each new thought was worse than the last. He's couldn't save someone. He's been shot. He's dying. He's bleeding out. Nothing, however, prepared him for what the boy said next.

"Tony," he sobbed, "Tony, please. It's Aunt May."

And just like that, he was flying to Queens. 

"Peter, hey kid," he spoke through his suit, increasing his speed as New York flew by beneath him. "Peter I need you to tell me where you are."

A shaky breath could be heard through the suit's speakers as Peter attempted to calm himself down. Yet, no words were spoken causing Tony to once again ask, "Peter, where are you? Where is Aunt May."

"I'm at Queens General," Peter said after a beat, confirming Tony's suspicions. "The hospital."

Something had happened to May.

"Friday, increase power in thrusters," he mumbled to his suit. He usually enjoyed flying the suit. He loved to watch the city fly by under him, hearing distance shouts of "Look it's Iron Man!". Not today though. 

"Listen, kid, I should be there in just a minute or two, okay? Sit tight." This much was true. The hospital wasn't far from the tower, and at the rate Tony was flying, it wouldn't be long till he arrived. 

"Tony." Tony's heart had broken at the pure desperation in Peter's voice. "Tony, I'm scared."

This was the final push for Tony. He arrived at the hospital in record time, landing just in front of the double doors that he quickly slammed open.

In he walked, full Iron Man suit on, purpose in his stride, straight up to the receptionist's desk. Everyone looked on in hock and fear as a mechanical voice rang out across the room.

"Where is May Parker."

On the elevator ride up to the room, Tony quickly removed the suit. He should have been going over what to say to the boy, but all reasonable thought was far from his mind. He needed to find his boy. His brow was furrowed, and his mouth was set in a steel line across his face. No one could see the swirling emotion he felt from the outside. Just the way he liked it. But, even he could not prevent a single drop of sweat from making it's way down his forehead. He swallowed. 

The elevator dinged, and he quickly and quietly stepped out of the small room. He strode down the hall, not stopping until he arrived in a small waiting room filled with pale faces and fluorescent lights. There in the corner he found a small boy huddled up against his chair, knees pulled to his chest. 

"Kid," he spoke, softly.

Peter looked up, eyes red and watery.

In a moment, Tony had strode across the room and collected the boy into a hug. Together they sat, not speaking, for hours. They merely sat, not letting their minds wander to what would happen to May, what would happen to Peter, and what was currently happening only a few rooms away. They just embraced each other. Not a soul approached them, and not even the ticking clock dare interrupt them, and for a moment, time simply seemed to stop. In that single moment, everything was okay. They were safe.

Then reality came crashing back. A doctor came to speak with them bearing bad news and a time of death. Time seemed to stop in a different way. 

~~~

Now, everything is different. People die. It is a part of life. Whether it be a car crash, a plane crash, a bullet, or a fire, sometimes death hits had an unexpected time. Peter's had to deal with an unfair amount of death in his short life. He finds it hard to get close to people because of it. He finds it hard sometimes to continue his own. Peter isn't alone however. He knows that. There are always people he can talk to. He sees a therapist now, who always knows just what to say. He's in a chat room online where he talks to people his own age who have faced similar problems. He helps strangers as Spider-Man, which always makes him feel as though he is doing the right thing. His friends at school are always there to talk to him and comfort him when something becomes too much. 

And he has Tony. Tony who is always there whenever he has a cold. Tony who is always the first person to congratulate him after a successful patrol. Tony who is always the first to clap after Peter's decathlon team wins a bout. Tony who always has his arms open for a hug.

It can be hard, dealing with death, but you're never alone, and as long as you realize this, it will get easier.

Someone will always be there to take care of you.

This was my first fanfic which is probably pretty obvious. I might make this into a whole story but it kinda depends on the feedback of this. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it even though it was pretty short. :P okay well. bye.