A/N: WARNING: Major character death to follow in this one-shot. Here is my response to the day 3 prompt: Soul World. My brain could only come up with this depressing scenario, so I apologise in advance for any sadness that may ensue! I think I ruined my own night be writing this, but worry not! There will be non-depressing IronDad coming tomorrow in part 3 of my 'Peter in the Mines' storyline :) Once again, written in a bit of a hurry at 2am (gotta love study getting in the way of every waking moment), so apologies for any small mistakes throughout. Without further ado, prepare the tissues x
Tony was tense. That much Peter could see. The harsh lines on his face spoke volumes to the deep unease that saturated his every movement and every hypervigilant shift of Tony's eyes.
Peter couldn't explain the level of creepy that this place was. When they arrived on Vormir, Peter was first struck by its strange sense of beauty; hues of pink, purple, and red dancing through the sky, all dwarfed by the biggest solar eclipse Peter had ever seen. The atmosphere was thick and suffocating, like being thirty feet underwater yet still dry and saturated with oxygen. He supposed those comparisons contradicted each other, but in all honesty made a weird kind of sense.
"Hey Mr Stark, do you know where we're going?" Peter glanced around at all the nothing that surrounded them.
"My guess would be those two giant rocks that look like the gates of hell."
True enough, far up in the distance on the peak of a tall mountain – the only mountain in sight – were two pillars. Peter agreed with Tony's brief assessment; they really did give off an air rife with unease.
"Alright, turn around kid, we're taking the shortcut." Tony gestured with a twirling motion for Peter to face away from him and hooked his arms under Peter's. As Peter's back made contact with Tony's chest plate, he almost had the air squeezed out of him as micro-magnets in each suit secured Peter's position. Mr Stark really did think of everything.
Even though Peter's suit was designed by Tony, and even though he could swing from buildings and was in no way insecure of his powers compared to the other Avengers, being hoisted upwards thousands of feet into the air and propelled forwards with exhilarating force was an experience Peter couldn't quite get comfortable with. He knew he was safe and yet it all felt so out of control, so when they landed at the top of the mountain surrounded by what looked like medieval ruins or what Peter thought looked like something out of Skyrim (he had to explain to Tony what that was), he thanked the ground profusely for simply being there.
"I'm going to go in, get the stone and come out, ok? Just wait here and tell me if anything…alive shows up."
Peter watched as Tony headed towards the cliff face, and in blatant disregard of Tony's request – not that Tony wasn't used to it by now - did a small half-jog half-run to catch up. Peter was met with a stern look from his mentor followed by an exasperated sigh. "Sorry Mr Stark, this place gives me the creeps, I just wanna help us leave sooner."
"Yeah, okay, fine whatever, just make sure you don-"
Whatever Tony was going to say was cut off. Peter was met with a metal clad arm protectively splayed across his chest, Tony guiding him so that he stood slightly behind.
Looking over Tony's right shoulder, Peter saw a hooded figure emerging from the shadows. As the light revealed more of the individual's features, Peter was taken aback by the bright red skin and skull-like appearance before him.
"Welcome, Anthony, son of Howard. Peter, son of Richard," the strange man's voice was raspy, as if it had been long unused.
"Sorry, Darth Maul, but we have business here, so if you'd excuse us." Tony moved to step around and resume looking for the Stone's whereabouts but froze once more as the man probed.
"Wait, was that a Star Wars reference?" Peter wasn't sure whether or not to be proud. Either way, his comment was left unacknowledged.
"Is it the Soul Stone you seek?"
Tony had now positioned himself directly in front of the figure, staring straight into his eyes, probing for answers. "What do you know about the Soul Stone?"
"A lifetime ago, I, too, sought the stones. I had even held one in my hand. But it cast me out, banished me here, guiding others to a treasure I can not possess."
"My heart bleeds for you."
"What you seek lies in front of you. As does what you fear."
"Look, enough with the riddles, we're on a tight schedule here." Peter saw Tony becoming more agitated, tension rippling just under the surface. This place was making Peter uneasy, too. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that although there was no immediate danger, they weren't safe either.
"The Soul Stone holds a special place amongst the Infinity Stones. To ensure that whoever possesses it understands its power, the Stone demands a sacrifice."
"What kind of sacrifice?" Tony and the red-faced man turned to Peter, who had broken his silence once more.
"In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul."
A heavy quiet descended upon them. Then, Peter met Tony's eyes, and in that moment they both knew they had simultaneously come to the same realisation. When Thanos held the Soul Stone in his gauntlet on Titan all those years ago, Gamora had not returned with him. A soul for a soul.
Tony took off, resolve and sadness in his eyes as he looked at Peter before his mask re-materialised. Altering his trajectory for the cliff edge, Tony froze, hovering momentarily over the colossal drop onto the stone below.
There was no way in hell Peter was going to let Tony sacrifice himself for the Stone. Peter was just a kid from Queens, and Tony was Tony. Tony was a pioneer of their time, and one of the world's biggest heroes and legacies. To Peter, there was simply no other option. To Peter, his own life wasn't worth half of Mr Stark's. Using the small window of opportunity where Tony remained unmoving midair, Peter aimed his webs for Tony's legs, and after they met their target, yanked down and back hard.
The Iron Man suit harshly met with the ground beneath them, and even though Peter knew the suit was hardy, he still winced internally at the sound of scraping metal. "Sorry Mr Stark, but I can't let you do that."
With a low groan, Tony pushed himself back up, fear and adrenaline making his mind race. Quickly filing through all his options, he opted for a well-placed missile to Peter's left that send him flying along the cliff's periphery. Whatever it takes.
Catapulting himself once more, Tony only used the blasters in a short burst to give him the momentum he needed to send himself over the edge to begin his descent, and gravity would do the rest. He'd lived his life, and he'd be damned if Peter lost his life too early protecting one of Earth's jaded defenders. It just simply wasn't his time, and Tony didn't think he could live with himself if he lost the kid.
Peter shook his head rapidly to clear the smoke – both mental and literal – from his head. He pulled his mask over his head and tossed it to the side, the cool air on his face bringing him back to the present and flooding his lungs with rich oxygen. His right web shooter was sending out faint sparks, and Peter figured it must have been damaged from the blast. Crap. Testing his luck to see if there was any chance it still worked, he was disappointed but not surprised when nothing shot out in response to his efforts. His heart nearly stopped when Tony was nowhere immediately in sight, until he heard an echo of the tell-tale sound of the suit's blasters.
Pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could, he made his way to the edge, and lowered himself down to where he was hanging over the side. Letting himself slide down another twenty feet, he cemented his grip into the rock face, and – just in time – aimed his left web shooters at where Tony was now falling.
Tony's eyes were closed, not wanting to see the ground rush up to meet him, wanting instead to finish saying his goodbyes to Pepper, to the team who had become like a family, and to Peter, who had become his adopted son. Even though he had looked Death in the eyes before, this time there was an overwhelming sense of finality about it. And Tony was ready. He had succeeded in marrying the woman of his dreams, having one – no, two – incredible children in his life, and leaving a legacy behind he could be proud of.
Tony had only just begun to feel his stomach drop as he fell when he was harshly jerked back once more. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of long white webbing extending from his right shoulder to where Peter was stuck to the cliff face, right arm tense and trembling from the magnitude of the momentum he had to stop, and the new addition of weight he had to support. Tony knew he couldn't hold on forever.
"Tony, please." Peter felt his face become wet with the tears that now streamed down his face. He had never known his father, and while Tony had started as his mentor, he was now family and the father he never had. And he was now faced with the crushing reality that he was about to lose the only father figure he'd ever gotten a chance to know.
The suit's mask receded. Tony wanted to look at Peter one last time. It broke his heart to already see the grief and loss that plagued the boy's features. No, not a boy. Peter's all grown up now. Tony smiled to himself, and thanked the universe that he got the privilege to see that small nerdy boy from Queens grow into the strong, heroic man who would one day change the world.
"You'll be alright," Tony said, nothing but sincerity in his words. He knew Peter would be okay.
"I can't do this without you, I ca -"
"Yes, you can. I'm so, so proud of you Peter. More than you'll ever know. Look after Morgan and Pepper for me, will you? Tell them I love them. Tell them I'm okay." The sad smile on Tony's face slowly faded from his expression. It was time to go. "Love you, Pete."
The suit began to de-materialise, and the point of contact Peter's webs had had now faded away. Peter watched in horror, unable to form words through the tightness in his throat as he saw Tony fall. Turning his head into the crook of his arm, he didn't want to see the moment he hit the ground but flinched as he heard the dull thud moments later, and then all was silent.
The clouds parted over the pillars, bright blue light manifesting in a crescendo above him before it all went dark.
As he came to, it took Peter's mind a while to understand that what had just happened wasn't only a terrible dream. Small tremors rattled their way under his skin, but the cold wind and frigid pool of water he lay in didn't bother him anymore.
Numbly, he forced himself to his knees, and began to unclench his left fist, hoping and praying that there wouldn't be anything there and that his hands would be empty. That Tony would be returning to consciousness in the water next to him, groaning and complaining but warm and alive and that he would tell Peter that they'd find another way. As Peter's fingers unfurled, what started as a faint yellow glow grew brighter until the water below his hand looked like its own small sun.
The silence was broken by a choked sob forced from Peter's throat as he clutched the Soul Stone to his chest.
A/N: I'm so sorry for this depressing one-shot, but thankfully that prompt is now out of the way and hopefully we'll be on to greener pastures prompt-wise for the rest of the week (at least I hope haha). Please let me know what you think, and part 3 of The Mines will be up tomorrow xx