Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

I lost the kid

It’s been about 8,030 days since Peter Stark-Rogers became Peter Stark. It’s been 8,030 days since Tony felt complete. It’s been 8,030 days since families have been torn, a team, a family, split. It’s been 8,030 days since Peter’s felt his Papa’s warm embrace. It’s been 8,030 days since Peter heard his Papa tell him that he loves him. It’s been 8,030 days since Peter watched in horror as his Papa’s best friend held him down as his Papa nearly killed his Dad. Yet it feels like just yesterday Peter tried to help his Dad, stop his Papa from hurting Tony. They were a family! Papa promised never to hurt him and Tony.

It’s been a rough 8,030 days for Tony and Peter. Tony lives with the haunting memories of his husband, his partner who made his vows to never hurt him, to live together till death do us part. Tony lives with the scarring memories of a happy family, and now, a broken one. People still look at him, and see the criminal Captain America. That the Avengers can’t be trusted. That he’ll betray them too. That they’ll come of his son. As if he hasn’t been hurt enough. Peter Stark, as he now goes by used to be Peter Parker, but his parents abandoned him during Loki’s invasion, leaving the tiny, defenseless eleven year old on the streets to die. It had been one year since Stark  became Stark-Rogers and the two Avengers fell in love with him and gave him a home to call his own.

Peter lived with his own (note I wrote lives for Tony and lived with Peter) scarring memories. Happy memories of his parents together, being happy as a family. All the times Papa made him feel happy, all for it be confusing. Did he really love him? They say you shouldn’t let one thing get in the way of a good relationship, but Peter can’t forgive Steve for hurting him, hurting his Dad. Steve was going to kill Tony. He told Tony that if he didn’t stop fighting, he’d hurt Peter. His own son.

Peter watched torn as his heart broke with each punch thrown by his Papa’s hand. Tears bubbled in his innocent eyes, they weren’t a family anymore. And they wouldn’t ever be. Everyone looks at Peter and they immediately see Captain America. The criminal. That he’s just like him. It takes everything within Peter not to scream at them, curse at them that he could never, would never be anything like that piece of filth.

Tony sighs as he marks another tick on the piece of paper Nebula had lent him. She didn’t have to, but she did. It had been 230 days. 230 painstaking, dizzying days. Since Peter Stark crumbled to ash in Tony’s hands. 230 days since his kid, the light of his life, the only good thing he had in his life was dead. Everytime he said that to himself in his head, he’d always end up spitting out the word “dead”. It was a nasty word that shouldn’t be used in the same sentence with one of life’s best things. His son.

His son who deserved the best. And life threw him fucking boulders. He didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that his son see him get brutally beat up by the man who he called Papa. The same man who told him for 1,307, almost for four years that he loved him. That he would never hurt him. That he’d rather die than harm a hair on their heads. Tony growled, well that was a fucking lie.

Tony squinted against the ricky chair at the glowing lights. He might have been hallucinating from sleep deprivation and hasn’t had water or food in the past 216 days which either means that there is a glowing woman in front of them who is taking them to Earth, or he’s about to die. Tony groans, if it is the latter one, at least he’ll be with Peter again.

When they land, Tony finds that his feet won’t support his weight. Nebula understands and waves his apology off. She’s never had a real friend before, even if it was under such dire circumstance. The first thing Tony sees is him. With his perfect golden hair and clean face, as if he had just shaven. Tony wants to scream at him, punch him, make a scene but he feels like he’s going to pass out if he speaks any louder than a whisper.

Steve who must have forgotten the pain he caused to his family or this isn’t Steve runs to steady Tony who can’t help but flinch in his grip. Nebula sends Steve a cold look, she shared Tony her story, who in turn shared his. Steve nods, as if he understands the former assassin’s threat to end him if he does something wrong. He does.

Steve sighs softly, breath taking the shape of a cloud in the cold breeze. It’s not usually cold in May, but after Thanos’s snap, nothing has been the same. Steve looks over him as if there’s someone else in the jet, just maybe a teenage boy with chocolate doe eyes. Tony heaves, “The kid. I lost him.”

Steve looks at Tony with anything but anger or hate. It’s not his fault. If anything, it’s his.

Steve dips his head down, “Tony, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything within Tony to not scream at him, that he isn’t sorry. Not in the slightest bit.

A/N: Yeah it's one of those days.