Irondad Oneshots

When I'm far from home

I got this idea in my head from watching an ad...

Weird flex, but okay.

Anyway.

Army Tony, with Bby Peter. Not really baby, cause he's seven, but still tiny bby.

Take this fluff/angst concoction.

Peter stared at his father in disbelief. "You were drafted?"

His dad crouched beside him, looking anywhere but at his son. "...yeah. I'm sorry, Pete. I don't want to leave."

"Then why are you?" Peter burst out. The seven year old clenched his fists. "You promised me, dad. You promised that you wouldn't leave like my other dad and mom. You said."

"Peter," Tony dipped his head. "I know, baby. I know. But I can't not do it. I'll get in trouble if I don't. Bad trouble." The father cupped the back of his son's neck, pulling him closer to kiss his forehead.

The young boy remained stiff, glaring at the ground.

"Petey." He said tiredly. "Pete. You're gonna have to look at me sometime."

The silence stretched out, twisting in between their still forms.

"You don't have to go." Peter muttered. "You don't have to."

Tony swallowed sharply, bringing his head forward to rest against Peter's. "You know I do. I love you, buddy."

The silence hurt more than he let on, sighing, and standing up. "Come on. Pepper will be waiting."

He took Peter's hand, noticing the tension in the small figure.

I'm sorry, baby. I don't want to leave you either. 

In the days before his departure overseas, the boy was silent, withdrawn, and sullen.

At the airport, Tony put his bags down, quickly kissing Pepper, and then kneeling in front of his son.

"Pete-" he shook his head, sighing. "Petey, you know how much I love you, right?"

The boy's refusal to answer cut deep.

"I do. I do love you, Petey. More than anything in the world. I'll be back, okay?"

Then Tony waved, watching Peter until the small figure was out of sight, blocked by the walls of the plane.

And he broke down.

Unbeknownst to him, Peter was also breaking down.

Tears streamed down his face as he tried to follow the plane, short legs carrying him to the edge of the runway, where he stopped, staring at the mammoth rising into the air.

"I want my daddy back," he sobbed. "I was mean to him, and I want him back. I wanna 'pologize, and tell him I love him."

"He knows, sweetheart." Pepper crouched beside him, arm going around his shoulder. "He knows."

"Peter?"

The eight year old lifted his head from his book, studying her. "Yeah?"

"Your dad sent you something," she said excitedly.

He opened the box slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

It was a stuffed bear, large, and brown, with a little heart saying 'hug me'.

He did, and nearly cried when he heard a familiar voice. "I love you buddy."

Pepper hugged him tightly.

Weeks passed, and Peter never went anywhere without his bear.

It quickly became the staple that held him together.

Until they got a telegram saying his dad was missing.

Missing in action, they said.

And Peter threw the bear in the trash, sobbing angrily.

He promised not to leave me.

But he got it back out.

If he wasn't going to see his dad again, he wanted to at least hear his voice.

He was playing action figures with it sitting across from him at the table.

"You're never gonna beat me," he said softly. "This is my dad, and he's a hero, so he's gonna win."

"I love you, buddy."

Peter's gaze darted up.

He hadn't touched the bear.

But then…

He spun around.

His dad was crouched behind him, arms out. "Hey bud." His voice was thick with tears. "I'm home."

"Dad!" The boy threw himself forward,slamming into the kneeling figure.

"Hey," Tony whispered. "Hey baby. I missed you so much."

"I missed you, and I thought you weren't coming back, and you promised, I was so scared, and I didn't say goodbye, and, and-"

His dad pulled him closer, letting the boy bury his face in the soft material of his shirt. "I know. But I'm not leaving you again, okay? We're gonna be okay."

Even after several minutes, Peter didn't let go, leading to his father picking him up, and flopping down on the couch dramatically.

He poked his son's side, prompting a small, teary giggle from the boy. "Right now, how about we take a nap? I'm beat."

The eight year old nodded softly, studying his dad's face. "Are you hurt?"

Tony hid the flash of pain at his son's question, instead pressing a kiss to the top of the tousled brown curls. "Not anything my kid's cuddles can't fix."

Peter nodded seriously. "Okay. I'll fix you."

The father lifted his face to the sky, silently thanking whoever was out there for giving him this innocent child. "You know I love you, right?"

His son nestled against his chest, and unlike that day at the airport, nodded sleepily. "I love you too."