Irondad/Spiderson Post-Endgame - LYKHIW timeline

No. 03 - Nothing Left To Lose - Part I

Whumptober Prompt No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY
Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

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I'm using my own Fix-it to Endgame "Like You'd Know How It Works" as a basis for the timeline, though the prompt will work fine without having read that story. The important part is, that Tony's not dead.

Baseline: circa 2 weeks after Tony is brought back from the multiverse.

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People never did tell you what it would feel like to come back from the dead. Possibly because people had very little experience with things like that. The odd person being found after they had gone missing for a long time, maybe even been presumed dead, that was one thing. Something like that might happen from time to time. But full-on coming-back-from-the-dead? Well, Tony had always been a pioneer when it came to living through the weirdest shit.

To be fair, to him it wasn't a resurrection per se. He hadn't been dead after all, just his other-dimensional self. Well, just... And the other version of him remained quite dead still, thank you very much, and in all honesty, he wasn't anywhere close to being cool with all that yet. Possibly ever. So there was no way he'd let that big brain of his even start to muse over what was basically his corpse that lay buried not too far off their house. Chances were, he'd never be cool with thinking about that part. So, he didn't. Didn't think about it. Didn't talk about it. Just waiting for it to go away. Which it would. In a few years. 50, give or take.

He rubbed both hands across his face, an active effort for his brain to change the channel. He was supposed to be paying attention to the furry beasts in front of him.

"Seriously, Gerald, you're acting as if it wasn't in your best interest to keep your neck un-wrung. Fluffy, Tiny, let's go."

Gerald didn't like the barn. He was used to grazing wherever and whenever he wanted, nobody's schedule to follow. A free spirit after Tony's own taste. But there was a reason why their stock had grown from one fairly independent alpaca to a flock of three. Damn poachers. Or rogue hunters. Something along those lines, he hadn't inquired in that much detail. They had decimated the two herds in the near-by village, only Gerald's new barn-mates had been able to flee.

And apparently, the Stark's had expanded their life-saving services to the community's life stock now. Well, Pepper had decided they would and Tony wasn't going to question whatever it was that made Pepper happy, not any time soon. His family was the only thing that mattered now. Not the village's life-stock-politics, not any kind of politics. He had retired from everything that didn't directly involve making the people he loved forget about that little death-mishap.

Tony grimaced to himself. Semi-officially retired at least. Yes, in the long run, he was likely to consult for the team and there was always Peter's neighborhood-avenging to support. He'd never leave the Spiderling hanging, no pun intended. But right now, there was some healing he had to supervise. Emotional healing that could only be done with lots of hugs and kisses. With hot chocolate by the fire and glasses of cold wine by the lake. With breakfast in bed and comfy afternoon board game sessions. With nights spent sitting next to his kids' beds, for their benefit of course, not just his own. That was why he had come back with his little protegee after all. For them. And Tony would do whatever it would take, even if it involved wangling three alpacas at once.

Those very alpacas who were very reluctant to move into the barn. Even with how remote the cabin lay, they weren't safe outside anymore, not with the sun slowly setting in the west. But all the pulling on Gerald's head-collar just didn't get him moving, not until Pepper took pity on her dear husband and lent a hand. While she was pulling on the leash, Tony was pushing against the stubborn buck's backside. Alpacas didn't usually tend to kick with their hind legs. That was horses... right?