Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers: Infinity War or any of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Tony feels numb. He hasn't thought much about the deaths he had seen – how people had just crumpled. He hasn't allowed himself. Defeating Thanos had been his priority. He refused to think about all that had happened and let his emotions make him reckless.

But now Thanos is gone. Now, nothing is distracting him from the damage that hadn't been fixed – the people that could never be replaced.

Wong had taken the time and reality stones from the gauntlet and used them to bring back Strange. Strange had more practice with the power the stones had and used them in such a way that reversed all the damage and death Thanos had caused without bringing the titan or his children back. Tony didn't understand and was quite sure he didn't want to.

He smiles softly as he gazes at the reunions. A tree cuddles Rocket to his chest and Peter Quill pulls a green-skinned woman into his arms, tears spilling from both of their eyes. Drax is awkwardly hugging Mantis, smiling happily at his friends.

Tony turns his gaze back to his own friends. Wanda and Vision are pressed together, their lips locked and ignorant to the rest of the world. Sam, Steve, and Bucky are engaged in a three person hug that looks incredibly uncomfortable, but they don't seem to care. Thor is holding Loki at arms' length and the two are speaking quietly. T'Challa holds his sister close, trying to quell her tears.

Barton and Romanoff stand to one side, Barton crying happily as he holds his once disintegrated daughter in his arms and Romanoff hugging a badly beat-up, but still standing Bruce. She pulls away a bit to smile down at her niece. Ant-Man is hugging a woman just a bit shorter than him to his chest.

Iron Man removes his mask and scans his surroundings again. The warmth in his chest falters and then completely fizzles out. He feels numb. He feels empty. Pepper is alive, safe – he's certain of that. But he still feels empty. The love of his life had survived, but his world hadn't.

"Tones," Rhodey says, coming to stand next to him, "what's wrong?"

Tony doesn't respond.

He doesn't remember collapsing. He doesn't remember his grief and aguish filled screams. He doesn't remember his friends, old and new, running toward him and surrounding him.

But suddenly, the Avengers are looking down on him in concern. His chest aches in a way it hadn't ever before. What he feels is pain so much greater than the burning of the arc reactor keeping the shrapnel at bay. It's so much greater than the feeling of being blown up or drowned or having a vibranium shield shoved in his chest.

Faintly, he hears concerned voices and a child crying. There's the phantom feeling of tears running down his face. And he. Can't. Breathe.

He feels sick and wrong, but he couldn't stop it. They'd won, damn it! THEY'D WON!

But a voice in his mind whispers, At what cost?

Frantically, his gaze sweeps over the heroes surrounding him in a final attempt to find something that he knows – he knows – isn't there. As the thought registers, he feels the last of his heart shatter. A broken sob tears from his throat and he can feel the confused, frightened looks the others give him. And, for once, he doesn't care.

He doesn't know how long he stays like that, but when next became aware of his surroundings, he wasn't surrounded anymore. Bruce and, for some reason, Barton are still with him though.

"Where'd the others go?" His voice cracks multiple times, but he can't bring himself to care.

"To give you space. They, well, we don't know what's wrong, but we're not going to overwhelm you," Bruce tells him, voice soft and caring.

Barton is frowning down at him. "You scared us, you know, just collapsing like that.

He apologizes, guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. Barton just got his daughter back; he should be celebrating with his wife and all three of his kids. He shouldn't be helping a billionaire that's been overcome with his own loss.

"Tony, what happened?"

Tony flinches at that. He doesn't know the last time Barton had called him anything but Stark.

Carefully, he considers the question. He doesn't like the answer he comes up with.

"He's gone," he whispers. "He didn't come back."

Barton and Bruce share an alarmed look. "Who's gone, Tony?"

It takes him far too long to build up the courage to say it – to admit it out loud.

"Peter."

Bruce frowns. "Peter's fine, Tony, he's with Gamora and Nebula right now."

Tony shakes his head and replies, "My Peter. Peter Parker."

The two men are startled at that and Bruce sends Barton off to find Strange, wherever he is. The other scientist sits next to Tony, pulling him into a hug and letting the man cry on his shoulder. Strange frowns when he talks with Tony and he faintly remembers the kid in the spider costume. The kid should be here. Loki had died before the kid had and he'd come back.

He tells the rest of them as much, but they don't do anything – they can't do anything because he should be here.

Two days later, they are on the Quinjet, going home. Tony hasn't spoken since the day they'd beaten Thanos.

An hour and a half into the flight, he starts speaking. His voice is rough and breaks every few words, but no one pays that any mind.

"When he was three, he got kidnapped. His mother had told someone about him on a date. The asshole picked him up from daycare. It took a week for us to find him. The daycare was shut down after making that mistake. The bastard that took him has been in prison for a couple of years now."

The others frown as Tony mindlessly continues speaking.

"When he was seven, he was in a car accident that left his driver in a coma and broke his left leg. The people responsible for the crash were the same from before. He was only missing for a few hours that time. After that, I stayed with him almost constantly for a year and a half."

His eyes are far away, lost in memories. He recounts inventions and Christmases and countless other tales. By the time they reach the compound, he's fallen back into his grief-ridden state.

Pepper meets them and immediately wraps her arms around Tony. His tears are back and drip onto her jacket. It's unnerving for the rest of them to see the man so vulnerable, so . . . broken. Pepper pulls back, a soft smile on her face.

They hear rushed footsteps coming toward them. They barely have time to react before a tuft of brown hair collides with the billionaire. A boy has wrapped his arms around Tony and it holding him as tight as he can. A few tears fall down his face as he buries his head in the older man's neck.

"Dad," the boy sobs. He says the word on repeat while Tony murmurs his name again and again.

Tony refuses to let go of his son. He's absolutely terrified this is a dream – that at any moment he's going to wake up and his son will be gone again. So he clings onto the dream for as long as he can.

"Dad, it's me," Peter tells him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tony pulls away to look his son in the eye. "I thought –" He coughs and clears his throat. "I thought you were dead."

"But I'm not dead, Dad, I'm here."

Tony nods. Peter's here and safe and alive. That's all he could ever ask for and if that's all he gets for the rest of his life, he's fine with that. Peter is the only constant in his life and he would rather die than lose that again.