Aliens had fallen out of a portal. Their long teeth were filled with fast-acting poison that sent bodies into painful convulsions and caused death by internal bleeding as bones punctured the vital organs.
It was a job for the Avengers and a full-out war zone.
Iron Man flew around with lasers cutting through the thick scales of ten feet snakes. Scarlett Witch used her magic to lift surrounding rocks and slam them into their heads. Captain America used the Vibranium shield to knock out the teeth and his super held them at bay.
"This is some Harry Potter level shit," Peter muttered as he shot a web at the eyes of one of the snakes. It shrieked and slammed its tail on the ground, causing cracks to appear.
"Does anyone have a sword or something sharp?"
"Kid, hush!" Tony spoke over the comms but even he knew they were not evenly matched. Yes, they could win, there was no way he would have allowed Peter to join if he was not certain. But the battle could take a long time.
"The one time we actually need Clint," The man shook his head and curved down to assist Wanda who was caught between two aliens. Peter got there first, his web attached to an edge of the canyon and movements honed by the numerous hours he had spent swinging around one the largest cities in the world. The boy caught Wanda by the waist, swung up and expertly released the web to shoot another.
"Nice job, kid," Iron Man's head turned to Spiderman for a second before the gauntlet released a laser beam that burned one of the alien's eye off.
Peter lowered himself and Wanda to the edge of the rocky wall. Not a word was exchanged, it was an unspeakable contract that thanks were not needed in the battlefield (although Peter forgot the rule more of than not). They were comrades who looked after each other without question. Spiderman took off and looked around to see if anyone of the team was in immediate need of assistance. That was his job: contain and rescue. Use his webs to restrain the target or either get the ones in peril to safety.
Suddenly a snake was aiming for him. Peter lifted his left arm, ready to shoot another web but before he could press the lever, alien's scales sliced at the sling and with a surprised yelp, Peter fell on the ground, rolling to avoid the force of impact to injure him.
"Spiderman!"
Peter opened his eyes to find Steve, Captain America peering into his masked face and Peter lifted a hand in a sign that he was fine.
"You took quite a hit," The leader helped him sit up but Peter brushed him off, already getting into his feet.
"I've had worse," The boy blinked a few times, testing that his vision was not off.
"Kid, you copy?" His mentor's voice was tight.
"Yes," Peter nodded and took off, now much more careful. "Their scales cut through the webs."
Tony hummed in displeasure.
"Yes, I was expecting something like that to happen. Be careful."
"Roger that."
Peter tried but the snakes were everywhere, their tails whammed through the air and caused cracks into the ground. All they needed was a split second hesitation, a second of delayed response and they cornered Peter again.
The boy cried out as his web was again cut in half, he closed his eyes and prepared for the ground to slam him into face.
He landed in water. It was ankle deep and cool.
Peter gasped in shock. Something was not adding up: he looked up and sun nearly blinded him. He had fallen into a jagged hole.
Sound of rushing water filled Peter's ears over the screams and laser shooting noises. Water was sprouting out from between the rocks. The boy did not know whether the a pipe had broken or there was an opening to a lake.
Nevertheless, he could not stay.
Peter stood up and lifted his hand to shoot a web when a huge crash sounded through the clearing. The boy covered his ears, crouched to protect them further.
A huge boom.
Complete darkness. Peter could not see anything. He turned on the night vision and lifted his head. His heart froze.
The hole was closed.
"No," Peter shook his head. "No, no, no."
Water rushed in, it was now to his knees. The space he was in was not large and by the speed water was filling it, he had a minute, maybe two.
"Help," Peter said into the communicator, his calm betraying his panic. "I need help!"
A static and then a clear voice: "Peter, where are you?"
The boy nearly cried at the sound of Tony's voice.
"Down here!"
"Where here?"
"Down a hole," The water was now up to his waist. Peter looked up and the rock was still there.
"I'm stuck! A boulder fell on the entrance."
Tony fell silent for a second.
"Hold on, kid."
"Hurry up!" The boy tried to keep his panic at bay and tears out of his voice. "There is water coming here."
"What?!" His mentor shouted in shock and Peter can picture his face: eyes wide and mouth open. "How deep is the hole?"
Peter tried to measure, he had never been good with distances, part of the reason why he had never taken up football or any other sports activity.
"7 feet, maybe, I don't know."
"Shit! Okay, okay, stay calm, I'm gonna find you."
The sound of lasers, Peter hoped they were for him but his senses told it was not the case. The sound was too far.
"Tony, I'm here!" He screamed. He hoped his voice would be heard but he also realized his mentor didn't need such primitive ways to find him. He had a tracker and FRIDAY could detect heat signatures.
The water rose to his chest and Peter tried to climb up the narrow opening. He planted his feet on the side, hands on the boulder and pushed with all his might.
"Come one, come on, come one!" The boy swore under his breath. "Move!"
Peter knew that normally he could lift the giant rock but now, he could not get leverage. The obstacle would not bulge. Peter let out a frustrated sob and tried again, pushing with all his might.
"I can't lift it!" He cried into the communicator. "I can't do it!"
His concentration faltered and he slipped into the water. It was too close now. Peter coughed and sputtered. His feet no longer touched the ground.
"Mr Stark! Help! I can't lift it!"
Static and then a voice: "Peter, kid, I am coming, I see where you are."
"Please, hurry," The water was rising, Peter's hands touched to roof. "Please, please!"
"Kid-" A blast and a sound of the thrusters. There were too many enemies and too few of the Avengers. Peter knew it was not looking good.
"You won't get here in time."
It was a grim sentence from the mouth of a fifteen-year-old but Peter knew it was the truth.
"Peter," His mentor said voice panicky and wet. "I'm here with you, the whole time, okay."
Peter sniffed and nodded.
"I will get you, I promise," Tony says with determination. "I need you to hold on for me, can you do it?"
"Yeah," The boy choked out.
"I know we never covered this part in training but here is another lesson," His mentor tried to keep his voice light and reassuring. Peter appreciated the effort. "Keep your mouth and nose in the air as long as you can, take a deep breath, the deepest you can and then you wait. Don't move around, save your energy. The most important thing is to keep up hope. Say, Tony is coming."
Peter spat out some water: "Tony is coming."
"Tony will get you."
"But-" The boy paused, afraid to know but he was desperate, it was literally now or never. "What if you won't get in time?"
"I will, kid. I promise."
There was nothing but determination in Tony's voice. Peter didn't know whether it was faked or not.
"But what if you don't?"
"I know CPR, remember the course we took, didn't miss a single detail. Chest compressions and rescue breaths are in recent memory. You just hold on for me, okay?"
Peter nodded, the water was now to his chin.
"We will see each other soon, kid, but these aliens have taken a residence over that boulder. You're like a bounty."
Then, panic sets in, the very thing Peter was trying to avoid.
"Oh God!" He screamed; there was barely any room for breathing. Tiny waves entered his mouth and nose.
"I don't want to die! Mr Stark, I don't' - I can't-"
"Peter, I'm here. It's alright, kid," His mentor was in tears at the pleas.
"I can't breathe!"
"You're not alone, Pete. I'm here, Tony is here."
"Help me, please! Help!"
The last words are not even words, just some sputters as air was robbed.
Tony stays on the line and he hears every sound: it is a sick and twisted mixtape to his flying and blasts from the gauntlets. Peter's agony and whimpers are a motivator, a driving force that makes him a ruthless opponent to the aliens.
How dare they come here and take away what is the most important to him?
His heart nearly stops as he hears Peter let out the air he was holding in. The boy is struggling to keep his throat from opening up and taking in air. The Spider in him is still fighting against asphyxiation. All the time he keeps hushing him, being something tangible for Peter, a reminder that the boy is not forgotten.
Tony is practically praying for Peter to pass out, he can't stand hearing the gagging and coughing.
Maybe it was meant for Tony from some sick being upstairs. Here is your absolution, listen to your son drown.
A small part of him wants to turn off the comms. Tony kills that part instantly.
Peter quiets down but Tony still keeps talking, his soft tones a nauseating contrast against the actions he commits while his voice keeps going.
"I'm here, kid, I'm here."
It takes them minutes but finally all the monsters lay dead around the clearing. Tony flies his armor to the stone pile and uses laser to cut through it.
Wanda was the smallest of them and got through.
The entire area is filled with grim silence. The only thing they hear is pants of breathing. No one said a word.
Karen had cut off. Tony knows what it means. But he could not voice it, he did not need to voice it.
They were running on borrowed hope.
A read head emerged from the hole, the woman's arms linked over the chest of the teenager.
"Take him!"
Tony does not need another order. He grabs Peter by the back of the suit and drags his dead weight to the dry ground. He rips off the Spiderman mask and throws it away, it made a squelching sound. The fabric was not meant to be dunked into large bodies of water.
Without wasting a moment, Tony bent down and brought his ear to the boy's lips, with his fingers trailing on the boy's neck.
"No pulse," he breathed out and started the chest compressions. The second his hands pressed down on the kid's rib cage, foamy water dribbled out of Peter's nostrils and between his lips. Steve hurried to roll the kid on his side.
"Don't!" Tony ordered and the blond looked at him with panicky disbelief.
"He has swallowed water!"
"It will come out during the compressions!"
Was shouting really necessary? Neither knew, nothing else was certain than that their youngest member was technically dead at this point. Tony turned the kid on his back and resumed CPR.
"Keep his head to the side and mouth open," he told the soldier who obeyed. Tony nearly lost count, was he on six or seven? He tried to keep his mind off the sounds that came when water rushed from Peter's mouth..
"C'mon kid," Tony whispered to the unconscious form, praying to Gods he did not believe in. "Fight!"
The gushing of water eased down by the time he completed the thirty compressions. He took Peter's head in his hands, pulled the boy's jaw so that his neck was at a straight line and breathed deeply his mouth. There was still water in the boy's lungs; he heard it and it spurted out with the exhale.
"This is not good," Tony muttered and breathed for his boy again. "Has medical been called?"
"They are on their way."
Someone said it, but he did not care. He could not waste a thought for anyone else but Peter. The boy who was lying in front of him, with glassy eyes staring at the skies and face blue with asphyxiation.
Third breath.
Fourth breath. The kid's cheeks puffed out and Tony realigned his neck.
"Kid, you have to fight this!"
Fifth breath.
The man resumed the compressions. A rib snapped and it gave him hope. He was doing the compressions correctly. He had never resuscitated someone before and God could not have chosen him a crueler victim.
"Now is the perfect time to manifest that stubborn nature of yours, huh," Tony looked down, arms locked at the elbows, his upper body going up and down with the presses. Droplets of water drip from Peter's bangs, his eyes had no life in them. "Spiderman can't meet his end by simply drowning! You will be laughing stock of every superhero ever!"
Steve was holding Peter's hand, fingers at his pulse point. Web shooter was tight and heavy against the boy's wrist.
Peter was not responding.
Tony forced down a choked sob as he bent down and gave rescue breaths. Peter's lips were blue and cold, there was no movement as Tony pressed down on them, willing life and warmth to return to the motionless body through the simple contact. The man had to turn Peter's head to the side after each breath because more water dribbled down his nostrils and out of his mouth.
"Peter," his hands cradled the boy's face and brushed away the bangs. Peter's brown eyes, the biggest and cutest Bambi feature Tony had ever seen, stared back at his mentor with emptiness.
Tony resumed compressions, eyes on his protégé, searching for the tiniest sign of life. Steve wiped the foam away from Peter's face and ensured with his fingers that the airway was clear.
"FRIDAY, his suit has a defibrillator, can I use it?"
The AI took a moment to answer.
"I'm sorry boss but it is no use."
"What do you mean?"
Fifteen, sixteen
"Defibrillator is only effective if there is activity in heart. Peter's heart has stopped, defibrillation will have no effect."
Tony swore and tears filled his eyes. Constant motion was putting a strain on his arms.
Thirty compressions were completed and he wasted no time for a pause. He leaned down and breathed into the boy's mouth. Peter's chest rose and fell. He didn't wait to see if the kid would start breathing on his own, that train had passed long ago. He performed another rescue breath.
Tony wishes, imagines the kid starts to cough underneath him but nothing happens.
Third breath.
"Peter," Tony slapped the boy's face repeatedly and screamed: "You have to wake up now!"
The kid stared at him with lifeless eyes. Tony slapped his cheek again, the voice echoes.
Fourth breath.
"You can't give up to this."
Those eyes have held many emotions. Tony had seen Peter's eyes shining with laughter, downcast with embarrassment, blazing with anger and filled with so much sadness and fear that he couldn't have helped but pull the kid close to him.
Fifth breath.
"Tony," Steve started and the brunet's eyes fix on the soldier, warning him to watch his words. He is not giving up, not yet, not ever.
But what Steve said he did not expect.
"I do the compressions, you breathe for him, okay? 5 to 1."
Tony nodded without a word and Steve set his hands on the boy's chest. Tony dipped his face closer to Peter's.
"Kid, you have to fight. You have to come back to me"
"Breathe," Steve said and Tony complied. He heard Peter's lungs exhale.
"Peter," He slapped the boy's face repeatedly. "Peter! Wake up! C'mon!"
Water dripped out of his mouth and Tony turned the kid's head to the side.
Breath.
"You have so much to live for, you have no idea."
Breath.
"It's your sweet sixteen birthday soon."
Breath.
"May and I have big plans for it."
Breath.
"You could spend a lot more time in the tower."
Breath.
"Lot more training, your abilities would develop so much"
Breath.
"If you want, I could set you up with a real internship."
Breath.
There is not enough air in his lungs for talking and breathing but he does not care. Peter might hear him, it is enough incentive. If there is even the slightest possibility that Peter was coming back he wants to guide him, like he does every day of the boy's life.
Be there for him, be the steady one Peter can fall against.
The sound of a helicopter.
Medical team has arrived.
Tony crouches down and shields the boy from the rush of wind. The propellers slow down and the door is unlocked. EMTs jump down and run to the scene carrying bags and equipment.
A woman, in her late 30s, kneels beside Captain America who gives her space to work.
"What is his name?"
Tony licks his lips: "Peter."
"How long has he been out?"
That question Tony can't answer. He has no voice.
"Under the water about 15 minutes," Wanda answers. "Stark started CPR the minute he was brought up."
EMTs don't look hopeful at the numbers. A male with blond hair fishes out the equipment and sets to intubating the boy.
"No gag reflex," he informs the team and the woman curses slightly.
"Alright, prep 5 mg of epinephrine."
"How do we get the suit off?"
Tony snaps to attention and presses on the spider emblem on Peter's chest. The costume loosens and it is unwrapped until Peter's torso is bare.
The blond tapes the breathing tube to place and hooks an ambu bag to it. He gives a few pumps and another man listens to Peter's lungs with a stethoscope.
"Adequate breath sounds on both sides."
The woman has set an IV and was now giving an injection.
Defibrillator pads are placed on Peter's chest, up and to the side of his heart. Tony's heart lits up with renewed hope: has Peter's pulse returned? Could something be done?
His hope dies just as quickly as the machine gives a shrill whine. No pulse.
Compressions are started again. Ambu bag is providing the kid 100% oxygen and the medicine they are injecting to his system is meant to help his heart recover.
That is all Tony understands, anything else goes over his head. He knew Medical School would have been a more sensible option. Now he can do nothing but wait.
Wait and pray.
"No change," the woman shakes her head. "Injecting another mg."
Compressions are stopped for a moment. Ventilation is still going. Someone has closed Peter's eyes. Tony tries to imagine this is just a drill. Yes, this is just a demonstration that Fury has conducted, about first aid and Peter is the volunteer because of course he is. The kid is eager to please and enthusiastic about everything.
The blue on his lips is just make up.
Peter is so still because he is one hell of an actor. Or maybe he just fell asleep on the job. This wouldn't be the strangest place he has fallen asleep in.
The compressions are so hard because Peter can take it.
Ten minutes pass by and nothing happens. Steve's hand rests on his shoulder and Tony is breathing 'no' under his breath. This can't happen. This is a nightmare, Peter is safe in his bed, dreaming about tests and building with legos. He is not lying dead on the ground.
The woman takes out her phone.
"We're taking him to the Compound," she dials the number. "We can't do anything more here. The have better equipment and more resources to deal with people like Peter."
Tony nods, feeling faint. The compound is a half hour drive away, by air it will be but few minutes.
Steve's hand does not leave: "We will follow you there."
Medical team lifts Peter on a stretcher, mindful of all the wires and ties him securely with belts. Tony reaches out with his hand. All he manages to touch is Peter's fingers before he is carried to the helicopter. The propellers spring back to life.
Now they wait.
"Tony," Pepper touches her fiancé's shoulder and offers him a sandwich. "You need to eat something."
The man shakes his head and leans back on the chair. The waiting area is white, sterile, unfriendly. He does not like it. He is transferring Peter back to the Tower the minute he is stable enough.
"At least drink something."
The woman has a bottle of water in her hand. Tony does not feel certain he can keep anything down. Past hour keeps repeating in his mind.
"Tony," Rhodey says softly and sits down beside him and Steve. "You look ready to keel over."
He is losing the battle so he takes the water bottle and takes a sip. Nothing comes up, small victories.
He still sees Peter, pale and helpless as water was forced out of him. His skin was so cold, not a hint of its usual warmth remaining.
"I just keep thinking," his voice is tight and he coughs to clear the obstacle in his throat. "Was there more I could have done?"
Pepper rubs his arm. She had not been there but everyone knows the story by now.
"I tried my best, but it-" Tony shakes his head, gaze fixed ahead of him.
"You did your best. You can't beat yourself up over that."
"I could not help."
"You helped," Rhodey says, his words holding more weight than ever before. "Peter has a chance because you did not freeze. That is true courage."
"My courage can't help him," the man looks at the corridor where he knows Peter is being treated. They have heard nothing. No news is bad news, correct? Or was it good? He couldn't remember.
Tony takes another gulp, his stomach churning. At least he can feel something.
"Have you called May?"
Pepper hesitates and shakes her head. "I wanted to wait until we know more."
"She is going to be pissed."
"It will take her hours to get here," the woman says softly. "It will make no difference either way."
Tony does not comment.
Pepper looks at a painting, it has flowers in a vase. Not her style actually. She likes modern art, abstract forms and such. They have one such painting in the kitchen.
Had it just been this morning that Peter had eaten breakfast at a counter top, scrunching his nose at the smell of coffee and reading the news on a StarkPad. May had a work trip to Chicago and Peter was to stay with them for a week. Tony and Peter had taken all the joy out of the occasion, juggling ideas at dinner table and spending hours at a time in the workshop. Pepper had taken it as an opportunity to really get to know the boy. She loved Peter but her job kept her busy so she only saw him few minutes at a time. She did not have the same luxury as Tony and was determined to correct the situation.
Just last night, the three of them had watched a movie, Black Swan, one of her and Tony's favorites. She had been worried it might be too much for the boy but Tony had assured her it would be fine. To her surprise, Peter had loved the movie and they had spent an hour theorizing about the ending.
Tears filled her eyes. Peter couldn't die. None of them could handle it.
Tony would fall apart.
Footsteps.
A doctor appeared. There was no blood on his clothes. His face was grim.
"Are you here for Peter Parker?"
Tony stands up, his face had lost all color.
"We are," he gestures at Pepper, Rhodey and the team. Pepper takes his hand.
"Maybe you should sit down."
Pepper knows the news can't be good. Tony shakes his head.
"No, tell us. Peter? Where is he?"
Tony's eyes are glistening. He knows the truth but hopes in vain. The doctor does not introduce himself. He is young, in his mid-thirties. His brown hair is neatly cut and combed.
A breath.
"I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."
Wails of sorrow, crying, Tony blocks them all out. Pepper covers her face with hands and Rhodey embraces her in support.
Tony shakes his head.
"What? What does it mean?"
The doctor steps forward, reaching to the man's arm.
"Maybe you should take a seat."
"No," Tony steps back, eyes wide like a cornered animal. "Tell me. Where is Peter?"
Rhodey takes his friends arm: "Tones, sit down, please."
"I don't understand," the man shakes his head, his breathing turning hysteric. "Where is the kid? What happened?"
Tony runs both his hands through his hair, he was beginning to have a panic attack. The doctor looks worried.
"Do you need help?"
"No," Pepper shakes her head automatically although her heart is telling Tony looks ready to have a stroke or heart attack. Or both.
"Tony," She touches his face. "Peter is gone," her voice breaks at the end, more tears falling down her cheeks. Tony shakes his head in confusion.
"Where is my kid?" The man's eyes are fixed ahead, not seeing anything. "Peter? Where is he?"
Pepper and Rhodey share a look, Tony is not hearing anything they are saying. The man was stuck in a nightmare. He was not here.
Tony Stark had survived abusive childhood, alcoholism, Afganistan, outer space and countless battles.
Was losing Peter Parker what would finally break him?
"He was without oxygen for too long," the doctor is answering some question. "You did your best but we could not get his heart restarted."
Tony gagged and brought up the water he had drunk. Vomit splashed on the floor. The man bent down and stomach acids followed. He had not eaten anything since morning.
"Deep breaths," Rhodey rubbed his back as his friend coughed and gagged at nothing. "Easy."
After a moment, Tony straightened up, eyes red and teary. His face is greyish and there is no strength.
"Tony," Pepper tries to bring his attention to her. "Do you know where you are?"
The man clenches his left hand: "Compound."
"Do you know what happened?"
Tony shakes his head, Pepper doesn't know if he is denial or his brain has shut down. She decides to try.
"Peter is there. Let's go say goodbye."
Tony is silent, his face betraying no emotion.
"Yes," He nods after a while, yet there is no more awareness in his eyes than before. "He doesn't like being alone."
Pepper forces down a sob.
The monitors are still in place but turned off. Peter lies on an examination table with a blanket covering him to his chest. The breathing tube is still in place but without the ventilator.
The room is cold. Pepper shivers and rubs her arms. She waits for Tony to step forward but the man only stares at the boy.
"He is cold."
Pepper doesn't try to stop the tears. Tony steps forward and eases the blanket around the kid tighter. She tries to imagine Peter is merely sleeping after a nightmare. Tony was always extra affectionate with him afterwards, stroking the boy's hair and sitting beside him until he fell asleep.
"Peter," Tony trails his knuckles along the boy's face. "You need to wake up now."
Her breath hitches.
"Tony—"
"It's just a little game, Pep," The man looks at his fiancée with a hint of a smile. The nickname nearly makes her vomit, it is sick to be included in such a sentence.
"He did the same in Berlin. Ant man knocked him across the airport, he pretended to be out cold so he would be safe. Smart move, fooled even me."
Tony strokes Peter's dried hair. His curls are prominent.
"Everyone is waiting," the man's voice is soft, full of love. "We have so much work to do. Remember, you were so excited about doing modifications to web shooters."
Peter does not move, does not breathe but she has no idea how much longer she can take this.
Tony laughs bitterly: "Kid, the joke is wearing thin."
He shakes the Peter's shoulder and something in him starts to break. The man's eyes widen.
"Pep," Tony's voice is filled with dread. "Why isn't he moving? What's- what's happening?"
It's time, but Pepper has no idea whether it's better Tony understands the situation or stays in clutches of delusion.
"Sweetheart," she whispers and walks closer to wrap her arms around her fiancé. "He is gone."
Tony stares at the child and shakes his head.
"No, no, he is just playing. It's not real."
"Tony," She takes his hand and guides it to Peter's chest. Their hands sit there, one on top of the other.
Tony waits, he prays and waits. There has to be something.
But Peter is cold. He is never cold. Spider powers made Peter into a human furnace, Tony noticed it the time he had shared a bed with him on a mission.
Peter's heart. He presses down. It can't be.
Nothing.
Empty.
Lifeless.
Peter was-
Grief hits him like a train. Without a warning, Tony Stark screams in sorrow. His voice is raw, filled with pure agony and it echoes to the hallway and to the team. Tears pour from his eyes and he bends down to bury his head on Peter's chest. Sobs wreck his body and his heart feels like giving up.
He has never been this inconsolable. He has lost a lot in his life but nothing is comparable to this. This tragedy has no parallel.
His vision is clouded with so much tears he is nearly blind but Tony looks at Peter's face and kisses his forehead. His temple. His hair.
All the affection he should have given the boy when he was alive.
He gathers the body in his arms and rocks him back and forth.
He should have held Peter more. Hug him, pull him closer on the couch, kiss his hair instead of ruffling it.
"It's alright," He whispers to Peter's neck. "I'm here, you're safe. You're not alone. Don't be afraid."
He tries to breath in Peter's scent but all he can get is the smell of hospital.
"I'm sorry! I tried- I swear I tried to help! Peter, please, please, forgive me. "
Tony buried his head to the kid's shoulder. He prays, he wishes and hopes, he would do anything to change this outcome. The world can't go on after this tragedy. There is no way sun can set and rise when Peter Parker is not there to witness it.
There is still no heartbeat. Peter is not breathing.
"Please, please, don't take him from me!" Tony whines. "You can have anything, anything else but not him! Not Peter!"
"Tony," Pepper tried to stay back but she could not let her man hate himself. "It was an accident."
Tony shook his head. He refused to see reason. He was a man of logic but nothing he knew could save the one person he valued more than life itself. What was he worth? What was anything worth?
His phone dings. He forgot it was still on. He gestures for Pepper to take it. The woman opens the message and her eyes widen in shock.
"Tony," she passes it. It was a report from Karen. A part of him wants to ignore it but he catches one word. He lowers Peter on the table.
"FRIDAY, Scan."
They wait a moment.
"Mr Parkers heart is in VFib-"
"What?!" Tony shrieks and Pepper runs out of the room, screaming for a doctor. He places his fingers on Peter's neck vein and there it is, fluttering so slight you miss unless you know to look for it.
"Peter," he shakes the boy from the shoulders. "Peter, you're safe, you're at a hospital, hang on for a minute-"
Doctor runs in and sets power back on to the heart monitor. It's not a flatline, the machine shrieks, there is activity in the most vital organ. Tony stares at it, a hand to his mouth.
Peter was not gone yet.
"Set it to 180 Joules."
Ambu bag is attached to the breathing tube and crash cart is brought back in. More nurses come in, three doctors are now in the room with them.
"Mr Stark," a male nurse approaches him as someone begins compressions.
"You must let us work in peace."
"No," He shakes his head but is too weak and spent to fight against them. He can only scream the kid's name as first shock is delivered. Peter's body jolts slightly, the monitor shrieks again.
"Tones," It is Rhodey. "Come."
"Peter!"
2 weeks later
Tony lived through his worst nightmare.
May held the door open as Tony stepped into the apartment in Queens, Peter held tightly but carefully in his arms. The boy was half-asleep, arms wrapped around his mentor's neck and head resting against the broad, warm shoulder.
"Where do you want to lie down?" May asked, hovering around the space between living room and kitchen. "Your room or the couch?"
The boy opened his eyes and looked around his home.
"Here is fine," Peter whispered, voice still hoarse from a week and a half in ventilator. Tony set him down carefully and placed a decorative pillow under the boy's neck.
Peter was alive, the man's mind still could not believe the words. Peter was breathing, thinking, feeling. It was a pure miracle. Doctors had been in shock as the small heart had fought through the impossible. The boy still suffered from the after-effects of the oxygen deprivation but to Tony, it was a small price to pay, practically peanuts. He would go over the speech therapy practices with Peter. He would be a companion in PT with the same devotion he had had when massaged the boy's underused muscles during the medically induced coma. Peter would need a lot of support with the memory issues as his brain tried to reorganize the tasks to cover the nerve damage drowning had caused.
Peter was on the mend but Tony was not. After Peter had been brought back to life, he had spent two days in the psychiatric ward, the official diagnosis had been nervous breakdown. Now, at the age of 47, years after the due date, Tony Stark was taking medication for anxiety and his visits to his psychiatrist had become more frequent because of the initial psychosis.
By what he had understood, denial was a normal reaction to the death of a loved one but his medical history was not in his favor. As Rhodey had said, it was better to be overly cautious and tackle the problem before it really started.
"You want something to drink?" Tony stroked Peter's hair, fighting the thoughts away. "Juice, water?"
Peter shook his head at the last option. He had had so many ice chips during his recovery he might just swear off water entirely.
"Could I have some tea?"
His eyes were drooping and Tony knew he would be fast asleep before the drink was finished. The man nodded with a slight smile and walked to the kitchen and left May to fuss over her nephew.
Peter was tired, so tired nowadays. He could pass out in the middle of a conversation. His voice was weak and hoarse. The Doctors had tried to reason it was the Spider DNA. Normal human would be brain dead but Peter was slowly recovering, his accelerated healing made him tired so his body could focus on preserving the vital functions and speed healing.
Tony's hands slipped and the tea kettle crashed to the sink. He took in a shuddering breath and grasped the counter. He couldn't be breaking down, not now.
Stay strong, stay strong.
"Tony?"
He didn't turn around.
"I just realized nobody has asked you this: are you alright?"
May's voice is concerned and Tony does not understand why. She is in under no obligation to do so. May Parker should hate him and curse his name.
"Of course I am," He fills the kettle with water and sets it on the stove. The appliance is old, he needs to provide them with another one. Maybe renovate the entire kitchen.
"I talked to the others about what happened."
"Then you know," He shrugged, tried to appear nonchalant, like he wasn't losing sleep, like tears didn't constantly burn behind his eyes.
May sighs, knowing this approach will do nothing to help the man.
"Tony," She moves to stand beside him. "I don't pretend to know you but one thing is certain: you care about Peter. The relationship between you two- it is very much like what Ben and Peter had."
"I'm not trying to replace him-"
"And I don't mean to replace Peter's mother," May says softly and Tony is reminded that May, as much as she cares about Peter, never gave birth to the boy. They don't share DNA, much like Tony and Peter have no biological link between them. "We are in the same position: we love Peter and would do anything for him. Even die for him."
Tony looks at May's eyes and his composure breaks.
"He died," He whispers. "He died because I could not get to him. My heart broke. I held his cold body in my arms, he was so still, he didn't breathe."
He didn't realize tears had started running down his face. Hot tears filled with anguish and pain, memories of the horrible minutes his world shattered to pieces. May wrapped her arms around him, breaking the unspoken rules of conduct they had been following.
"I lived in a world without Peter and nearly lost my mind," Tony cried into the woman's shoulder. His body is wrecked with sobs he has held in for too long. May only holds him closer.
Everyone had seen Tony's pain, everyone had tried to reach out to him but none in his team could find the right way. None of the Avengers had the necessary connection.
They all cared about Peter, loved him even, but he wasn't theirs. It was Tony who brought him into their world. And May was the one who allowed it. Without her, there would be no Peter, no Spiderman.
"I never knew that kind of pain could exist," The man whispered in a broken voice, eyes red. May rubbed his back. "It was like my soul was ripped in half- no, in pieces."
"It is because the love you feel for him is so great," May embraced him tighter and placed a hand on the back of his head. Tony has often heard Peter claim his aunt gave the best hugs and he can now back up the claim.
"I'm not going to lie," She starts and Tony doesn't dread, no, he expects to hear harsh words. "I have been wary of this relationship you have with Peter, I don't want him to get hurt, physically or emotionally. I was worried you were just using him because of his smarts and powers. But now, I need to apologize. You, Tony Stark, are what my boy needs in his life."
Fresh batch of tears roll down his cheeks and May waits until he is composed enough to not break down any second. They wait until Peter is awake and then force him to eat some light soup and take evening meds.
"I just don't get better," Peter groaned as he curled into a ball, mindful of his bruised ribs. Tony, with his mind a lot less heavy, chuckled with affection and tucked the blanket tighter around the boy's frame.
"You are getting there, buddy. You have now stayed fully coherent for half an hour."
"Yippee," The boy raised a fist in mock celebration but cut off with a heavy cough. His lungs were still recovering although he was no longer in need of oxygen mask. Tony felt like he couldn't get enough of the sight of Peter's skin, now it's normal peachy color, lips pink and quirking up with a smile.
"Are you going to stay?" The boy asks and Tony shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant.
"If you'll have me."
"Anytime," Peter smiles, his eyes full of life and emotions, not empty and staring at the sky.
His boy was alive, falling asleep in his Aunt's arms and under his watchful eye.
Tony and May share an amused glance as Peter muttered something in his sleep.
They are all on the mend.