True Love

Three More Days

Tony's POV

"Kid, you really gotta stop getting yourself hurt." I looked at Peter, my heart practically burning when I saw Peter's legs and feet. 

When Peter had dropped the test tube, it just had to have Aqua Regia in it. Unfortunately, aqua regia is one of the world's most dangerous acids, particularly when it either is exposed to the air or has contact with any surface not able to withstand it. (Look it up for more information.) 

Thanks to ParkerLuckTM, Peter had both breathed in the dangerous fumes and spilled it on his shoes and pants. The acid had very quickly eaten through his jeans in mere seconds before touching his skin. Now, he laid on the bed, painful blisters already appearing on his legs. He sat there and just smiled at me, not talking very much because it hurt just to breathe. And of course, every 5 minutes he would cough up some blood, along with wheezing and killing chest pain.

Bruce was checking for Pulmonary edema (fluid in lungs) at the moment. With the look that he gave me as he left us, however, I doubted he even needed to check as it was obvious Peter was suffering from it.

He began to talk, but he stopped before he even got one word out. Immediately, he held his chest, tears brimming in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide.

My heart broke.

I walked over to his side quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "Shh, don't say a thing. Just lay here and let us take care of you. Everything's going to be okay."

He wasn't convinced. Grabbing my hand, he adamantly shook his head. I began to wonder what was wrong. Since he couldn't talk, I gave him a piece of paper and a pencil.

"When I went into the lab, there was a sticky note. I thought it was from you, but then I saw it and that's when I dropped the acid. I think the acid ate it up, but I still remember what it said."

"What did it say?" I was becoming more and more interested in this.

He paused before writing, looked up at me, then with a determined look on his face, he wrote it down.

"I will kill you, Iron man.

And it was in a bright, yellow ink. Except it didn't look like ink. It looked more like blood."

I could handle the first part. I had lots of threats that came my way every day. But someone who could sneak into my lab without FRIDAY noticing, write a threat, and sneak out was someone dangerous. And the abnormal blood made them even more dangerous because it meant they had someone inhuman on their side, someone dangerous. Someone I might I have to fight.

I also noted he called me Iron man, not Stark. That meant he was mad at Iron man, not me. 

So basically, an inhuman, super strong villain with extreme technological abilities was out to kill me at any moment. Very not comforting. Especially with the vacation I wanted to take Peter on...

That might have to wait. A sigh escaped my lips as I put the paper aside, face down so I couldn't see the fateful words written there.

Peter's big eyes looked up at me, fear written all over his face. A lock of hair fell over into his right eye, and I gently scooted it back to where it belonged. I could hardly keep from kissing his forehead and reassure him that everything was going to be okay. What I couldn't help from doing was crawling onto the bed with him and holding his head in my lap, slowly stroking his hair. His breath became peaceful, and I realized that in the five minutes I had been there, he had fallen asleep. I continued to stroke his head, quietly humming a lullaby.

Bruce chose that moment to come back in. Peter stirred a little when the door opened and closed, but within a few seconds, he grew peaceful again. I put a finger up to my mouth to Bruce, and he nodded to say he understood. He left us without a word, and I put my head back on the wall, continuing to stroke my son's hair even as I fell asleep.

Yeah. My son.

Unknown's POV

Three more days. Three more days until the plan is irreversible. Three more days until we rule the world.

I would no longer be able to walk the streets like a normal person. There was only two ways the future could turn to. My horrible, torturing death, or my eternal, prosperous life. Only two ways.

At night, I often dreamed of what would happen. My dreams were different than anything I had seen before. 

I saw myself miserable, dying a horrible death. But along with the pain, I saw my inner self at peace, a smile stretching across my lips.

I saw myself rich and powerful, yet I wasn't satisfied. I longed for more, but I already had everything. I was evil and wicked, and jealousy encircled me like vultures fly above a dead carcass.

Somehow, I knew I would have to choose. Die happy, or live miserable?

But it didn't make sense. Nothing in my dreams made sense anymore. I crossed my fingers, hoping maybe tonight's visions would not be so confusing and sorrowful.