STARK SILHOUETTE
I watched Infinity War (again) with my husband last night and was floored by the emotion in this scene. This is how I imagine the immediate aftermath. Pardon any mistakes, I threw this one-shot story together pretty quickly.
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Tony stared down at his shaking hand in the golden light of Titan's star.
Peter.
He had clung to him, he had begged.
Please, Mr. Stark.
Tony squeezed his eyes shut against hot, angry tears that forced their way through his eyelashes. His shoulder ached with the phantom pressure of Peter's desperate grip. He wanted to howl and scream, but he couldn't claw his way through the confusion.
Tingling shakes started to spread from Tony's extremities to his body.
Maybe I'm going into shock.
He should probably be concerned by the possibility of shock, but he was drowning. That was far more concerning. He was drowning in grief and guilt. The kid should never have been here. Tony had let the kid squeak by on his noble ideals and heart-wrenching sincerity. Tony hadn't demanded that Peter stay on this ship, stay out of the fight.
A sob tore its way from his throat.
Tony hadn't wanted to be alone. He loved Peter like a son. He knew that he could lock that kid in a reinforced steel cell, and he would've still found his way into the fight. He could have tied him up with his own webbing, locked up his suit, flown him to another planet, and Peter would've still been there to have his back.
He's gone, a small voice whispered in his head.
Tony felt his stomach roll and he leaned to the side to gag up some bile. Pain from his wound shot through his body. He moaned as he retched again. He had sealed the wound, but he needed medical attention. He looked around the wasteland of Titan, glazed eyes passing over the blue alien chick. She stood unnervingly still, staring up into the sky. His brain briefly reached for a name, but nothing came to mind.
Tony pushed himself to his feet, grinding his teeth over a cry of pain. He shakily stood, a dizzying pain pulsing through his body.
He really, really needed medical attention.
I should be dead. Peter should be alive and I should be dead. Peter should be alive. Peter—
His mind went blank. Tears tracked down his dirt-stained face, and he whimpered as he wiped the dust from his hand. He wiped roughly against his leg, over and over. His hand stilled as he bowed his head, finally allowing the sobs to escape. He clutched his side with one hand and wrapped his other arms around his waist. Time stopped for a minute as Tony Stark wept for his loss.
There he stood, a Stark silhouette against the Titan sun.