Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Daylight

Spooktober.19

a/n: decided the vibe today to be short and sad

The world, if not evolutionarily cruel, was at least dependable. No matter the occasion, no matter how much anybody has seen, no matter how torn and dark anybody's heart gets, some things never change.

Day still fell into dark night. Dark night still rose into new day. The ground remains planted underneath the feet of its inhabitants, even if it undergoes a temporary (and most times lethal) shift. Earth continues to spin on its axis, slow and steady in the pace its meant to.

Tony very clearly remembers the first daylight after he returned home from quite literally floating in space.

He remembers sitting up, his back against the wall of the bed's frame, looking out the window with it's curtains drawn.

Tony hadn't slept even a second the entire night, despite his doctor's insistent orders. He stared at the window, sometimes moving his gaze to check on Pepper, who was asleep beside him, just to make sure that this reality wasn't going to disappear like his hallucinations on the spaceship usually did.

He gently was carding his malnourished hands through Pepper's light strawberry blonde hair as he watched the sun rise, and he remembers the warmth of the blankets over his body.

He also remembers the emotions he felt. He of course didn't want to wake up his love, so he kept the sobs to a minimum; but he remembers crystal clear the way his tears fell in numerous plinks onto the comforter as he watched the orange hue rise up from the horizon, surrounded with shades of blues and purples from the previous night.

More than anything, though, he remembers the only full sentence that swept over his thoughts far too easily for the weight that the words had carried.

'Peter should be here to see this sun, not me.'

It is a selfish thought, Tony reasons. It is selfish in the way that is backwards, because he should be deserving of the chance he was given once again at life. It is selfish because Pepper is next to him, gripping onto the sleeve of his shirt in her sleep like it was her lifeline, and he shouldn't think of leaving her alone but he is.

He is, because he imagines Peter's face, which in his head is as prominent as the light outside the window due to the amount of times Tony committed the face to memory in space, making sure he wouldn't forget any details. Short brown curls, freckles on the nose, childish brown eyes that could only belong to a kid. His kid.

He can't help but think selfish thoughts the whole rest of the morning, because he would do anything for his kid. He would do anything for Peter to see the sun shine once again.

Tony falls asleep just as Pepper wakes up, which is late in the morning while the sun has fully finished stretching over the forest and into their window as a bright golden yellow.

The world keeps spinning.

The sun keeps rising, every morning, without fail.

In the first few months, it is the only thing getting Tony out of bed. The sun will rise, so must he. He is not the one who deserves this sun rise, and he knows this, so he must spend time making the best of it every day.

Five years later, and Peter sees the sun rise for the first time from out the window of Happy's car.

They are both silent, unsure of what to say.

The dust and flames on the battlefield haven't settled yet, and because of this, the sky seems to be in shades of purple and red rather than nighttime black. Peter watches it all get smaller as Happy drives away.

Further across the way, he sees the beginnings of sunlight rising through the smoke, signaling the start of a new day. It doesn't feel like hope, but rather a taunting reminder from the Universe that it will not stop for anything.

Peter shuts his eyes tightly and leans his forehead against the cool glass of the window, but feels the hot tears continuing their path down his cheeks.

Tony smiles somewhere in Heaven, not quite knowing why. He feels a bittersweet happiness in his soul, making his spirit relax in a victorious breath of fresh air, like the sort of breath one gives after a rather difficult job that is finally complete.

He  would never know that it was because Peter finally saw the daylight.

He had won.