Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

A Moment in the Hallway

Spooktober 09: Goodbyes

⚠️TW: canon parental death ⚠️ 

Tony Stark was real tired of helping Doctor Strange protect his stupid magic pebble. He was so close to taking matters into his own hands and doing as he suggested so many years ago, just chucking the thing down the garbage disposal and listening with a dark satisfaction as the ethereal thing was reduced to pixie-dust green specks.

But, no. The wizard just insisted that was sacrilege of some kind, and instead carried the stone around him on a necklace. Tony really didn't know why Strange seemed so shocked every time some intergalactic asshole decided it was worth taking, because they kept showing up.

Tony was lucky enough to have limited contact with the time stone for the longest time— well, before this.

He was knocked back into the wall, and instinctively reached to his side to stabilize the kid, but his hand fell through the air. Tony jerked his gaze around his surroundings in sudden alarm. Strange and Peter weren't anywhere to be seen.

He stood up shakily, leaning back on the wall for support. He was at the Parkers' apartment building, that much he could recognize, and he wouldn't have seen the sudden teleportation to be so insane considering what they'd been dealing with, except...

May's apartment door is pulled open, and the light from inside is soaking into the dim hallway. It illuminated the couple standing in front of it most of all.

A man, a few inches taller than Tony was, with dark wet hair and glasses that were fogged up. He had on a sweater and nice slacks. In his hand, a briefcase. He had a strong jawline and looked familiar in a way Tony couldn't place.

Beside him, a woman with curly red hair, cut shoulder length. She was in a floral-patterned dress and was kneeling down, talking to a child that clung to his father's leg. She also seemed familiar, her eyes a soft brown and curved at an edge.

It clicked, finally, when Tony craned his neck, and his eyes fell on the little boy.

He was so small. His hair hadn't yet set into curls, instead it was a wavy mess that was cut short. He had a much smaller face, a rounded and dimpled chin, chubby cheeks, and a stubborn frown that Tony would recognize in any lifetime.

"Peter?" Tony breathed, his eyebrows furrowing in his dismay.

"I don't want you to go," Peter said, his voice much higher and carrying a childish lilt. He held onto his father's pant leg with clenched fists. Tony reasoned that he must have been about six. "I don't like when you go on trips!"

"I know," his mom said placatingly, a desperate smile on her face. Her eyes were full of tears. She looked very much the part of a parent trying her best to keep her distraught to herself. "I know, bug. It'll be alright, though. You love Ben, and you love May."

"I want you!" Peter cried out. His bottom lip wavered and he gave his mother a very stern glare, something that looked impossibly serious on such a young face.

Tony felt sick to his stomach. He shouldn't be seeing this, but he can't look away. Something in his gut told him this was their last meeting, the last time that Peter would see his parents and the last time his parents would see him.

He remembered his last meeting with his mom and dad vividly. Almost too well. Every frown line in his mother's pale face, and the disapproval written in his father's eyes. The feeling of his mom's warm hand on his cheek, her pleading whispers to him... all of it.

But he had been in college by then, and Peter... Peter Parker was just a child, too young to be wrapped up in all of this. Too young to understand the aftermath.

"Promise you'll be good," Peter's mother said with a weak smile, taking his hands in hers. Her thumbs ran along Peter's small knuckles. "Promise you'll be good for Ben and May, hm?"

He wondered if Peter even remembered this moment.

"I promise," Peter relented. He sniffled wetly. "You'll come back, right?"

A silence was met with Peter's request. Mary Parker tilted her chin upwards to her husband, her resolve cracking to reveal momentarily her devastation.

"Peter, go inside," Richard Parker spoke up. His voice was stern. Not a hint of hesitation. His expression was empty. He already accepted what was going to happen next.

Tony didn't know why that made him so angry. He didn't know why he wanted to shout and yell. Of course, he wanted to stop it for Peter's sake. He knew he shouldn't. He knew he couldn't.

"Dad," Peter tugged again at his pant leg, anxiety written all over his face. "You'll come back for me when your meeting is done? Dad? Then we can go to the museum?"

He stumbled over the pronunciation of 'museum.' Another reminder of how young he was, and all Peter was begging for was just them to just come back, and even still, there is no other way this story will end.

("I remember..." Peter began to admit one time to him, on a particularly tense night that left a chill in the air and a tightness in everybody's throat. His voice trembled, "I was pressing my hands down on Ben's chest. I could— There was blood all over my hands, and running down the street, and the gutter, and I—")

Peter will keep begging...

("—My head is fuzzy on what exactly was said, you know?" Peter smiled weakly, and Tony hoped he never saw that kind of smile on his face again. He would do anything to prevent it. "But I remember, I just kept saying... I just kept telling him, 'Uncle Ben, come back to me. Please come back.'")

...and they still won't come back.

"Go inside," Richard Parker said again. He clenched his jaw for a moment and kneeled down, hugging him very tightly. "Goodbye, son. I love you."

Peter shoved him away in a fit of five-year-old rage, his face betrayed and hurt. "You don't love me! You're leaving, you don't love me!"

Tony's heart was pounding out of his chest. It felt like it was bleeding.

"Peter," a voice came familiarly from inside the doorway of the apartment. May. "Come on, honey. I'll make you some chocolate milk."

Peter picked up his backpack and sulked all the way into the apartment. He did not hug his mother. He did not hug his father. He just didn't know. It wasn't his fault. He hoped Mary and Richard Parker knew that. He hoped above else Peter knew that, too.

Tony, in a lapse of emotion and poor judgement, stepped forward to do who knew what, but was suddenly yanked back again. He hit the wall with a thud, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the sanctum.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter, his kid, all 5'8" and gangly-limbed teenager, ran towards him.

He stopped just in front of him, keeping a good enough distance for Tony to leave at any point, as he always did since Tony had told him in some car ride a long time ago that they weren't "there". 

The teen's eyes were wide with concern. "Are you okay? You got hit with the time stone and kind of like, blacked out or something— I was hit too, but like, you were out a lot longer than I was, and Doctor Strange said it was normal apparently, but I was worried because I didn't know when you were going to come back—"

Tony blinked the tears from his eyes and brought Peter into a tight hug. He felt the teenager hesitate in his embrace, before easily melting into it, wrapping his arms around Tony's chest.

"This is nice," Peter murmured.

Tony gritted his teeth and just held him for a minute. Just because he wanted to. Just because he could. Just because.

Quietly, he made a mental promise to always try and come back.