Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Amputation

Spooktober.12

Beep. Drip. Beep. Drip. Beep. Drip. Beep.

Tony can hear the sounds of the hospital first. The sound of an oxygen mask, most likely his own. The sound of the heart monitor. The gentle dripping of an IV.

He opens his eyes, and everything around him is blurry. Shapes and colours mix and meld, and the lights are a lurid yellow against his gaze.

Something is different than before. He goes to move his hand up to the oxygen mask, which he swears he can feel resting at his side.

But it's not.

The last thing he remembers fazes through his thoughts like an amateur granite sketch over particularly gritty paper. He remembers the energy pulsing through his veins, then enough pain to stop him from moving well until his next life.

Tony blinks down at his arm, which has decided suddenly that it doesn't want to move, and realizes with a jolt of realization that there isn't anything there.

His eyes roll back and he lets out a tired breath. He drifts back to unconsciousness with one phrase clear in his mind.

What now?

Recovery, if you ask the doctors.

If you ask Tony, the next thing is when he gets to meet Peter again, after all of it. The last time he hugged the kid wasn't a hello. He knew that somewhere, deep in the crevices of his soul, that it was just another half baked goodbye.

Then suddenly it wasn't, because Tony is sitting up in his bed—and he's more awake now, as he colours with crayons next to Morgan on some of the hospital's paper, and Peter walks into the room.

Pepper picks Morgan up, despite Peter's best protests, and leaves the room with a reassuring smile.

Peter's an awkward looking thing, too, as he stumbles forward like a baby deer learning to walk. Tony doesn't laugh, for both of their eyes are red.

"Mr. Stark, I thought I—" Peter begins quickly, but he cuts himself off. The fears of yesterday may be washed away now, like the grime stuck on windows during a rainy day. "I'm glad you're okay."

Tony pushes the desk away and holds out his arm, which he is reminded once again that it is really just a singular noun, now. Peter hugs him again, and this time it is much more healing.

The hug is warm, it is safe, and it is home. Peter hugs as tight as he can without damaging or hurting Tony's wounds.

And there are lots of them. Scars that look like a thousand branches of lighting spread their way across the side of Tony's body, making him look mangled and bruised in a way that could not be fixed. He had healing cuts on his forehead though, proving that not all of the damage was permanent.

"Kid," Tony says, simple as could be. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

Peter sniffles. "I'm okay. I'm okay, Mr. Stark."

This is when the healing truly began.

Weeks pass until Tony is able to stably leave the hospital, in which he is transported back to his house and sentenced to at-home bed rest.

Peter visits everyday, learning himself how to adapt to this new life. A life where Tony is a dad, a real one, and a good one, too. A life where he was a big brother, technically, and he took the job very seriously.

He babysit Morgan every time he came over, reading her books and watching the animated PG movies with her while Tony rest. Her favourite food is cheeseburgers. Peter made sure to commit this to memory.

He also sat by Tony's bed for hours on the weekends, telling him what he's been up to at school and about what he's been doing on patrols. No matter how tired or in pain Tony is, he always smiles.

"And then MJ told him about how kool-aid was poisoned by this one cult leader and it killed nearly a thousand people," Peter explains. "She's so interesting, I think I really like her."

Tony snorts. "She sounds interesting. Is she smart?"

"Yeah. Like, way smart. And she—" Peter pauses. "Mr. Stark, are you okay?"

Tony was suddenly very tense, gritting his teeth in pain. "Phantom pain," he says through clenched teeth. "It's not fun. Don't worry, though."

"Oh." Peter frowns. He sits closer to Tony. He patiently waits until Tony looks like he isn't in pain anymore, and then speaks up. "What's it like?"

"It's like a twisting pain," Tony explains. "Except in a limb I don't have. It's weird how the brain works some times."

Peter nods. "Yeah... I kind of understand. That's how it is when I sense danger. It's like a weird numbing sensation, but it comes from around me, almost? I don't know how to explain it."

"Interesting," Tony hums.

Peter moves on, finishing his story.

The healing continues.

Soon enough, Tony is back on his feet, learning how to walk yet again. He figures it out after religious training and exercise, and then he's o to the second most important order of business.

He needs his hands.

Tony has made a life on tinkering. More than anything else, he builds. He builds life from his hands—Vision is proof of that. (He also builds a variety of robots which were his first children, really, and they all hold a special place in his heart.)

He builds suits of armour to protect his loved ones, which he finds to be the most important as well as the most dangerous. These suits are a beautiful curse, because they protect only what is put in danger.

So, needless to say, his hands were very important. A trip to Wakanda was planned as soon as possible in order to work with a magnificent teenager who was even more brilliant than he was.

In record time, he's back home with two arms.

He's doing okay, actually.

Tony has one arm around one kid, the one who made him realize he wanted to be a dad in the first place. The kid with the curly brown hair and the eyes that are too dim for his young age, as well as the scars on his chest from battles he shouldn't have needed to fight.

He's got the other arm around Pepper, his lovely wife who has been with him through everything. The one who made him want to see things clearer, the one who made him want to get his head straight.

And lastly, his biological kid, laying over his and Pepper's lap asleep. The girl who would never have to see the blood or the scars. The kid who would stay a kid as long as Tony could let her, because that's what he promised her when she first arrived.

Yes, he's doing okay.

After all, his arms, not 100% organic, are wrapped around the family he created for himself, and they are here for him completely.

So, how bad could it be?

the end

a/n: once again I am reminded that I am a fool for doing Spooktober, I'm very stressed,,, please enjoy the uploads,,,💔 😔