Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Not to Worry

Spooktober 15: Skewer

a/n: im so behind on spooktober please just close ur eyes. close ur eyes. itll all be over soon. shhhh its ok... shhhh....

"Pete, talk to me," Tony commanded.

Buildings were coming down left and right, and the mutant crime syndicate they were fighting didn't seem like the type to pull punches. Actually, they had proven themselves the exact opposite, if the cracks in his suit were anything to speak for.

He sent Peter to evacuate civilians, swing them out of the danger, what have you. At the time, this seemed like a great idea, because the kid was less likely to get hit if he was constantly moving. It no longer seemed like a great idea. He's uncomfortable with the idea of Peter being so far away on the field.

He had to rely entirely on Peter's word if something was going wrong, and as history has shown, Peter wasn't the greatest at realizing exactly when he needed help. (Tony shivered at the memory of the kid making a series of flustered, panicked, half-formed words, then rushing over to find him with his arm bent up in a way that could only be described as wrong.)

"I'm all good here!" Peter called back, his voice bouncing through the speakers of his helmet. He's loud, he's out of breath from swinging around, but he sounds uninjured. Little victories. "Working on the last few blocks."

Tony's trying to remain calm. He took down one bad guy at a time, trying not to fret. Peter Parker wasn't glass, he knew that, he knew, but accidents happen, and Tony wants to prevent them where ever he can.

This case looked very much like an accident waiting to happen.

Tony swerved away from a thrown chunk of cement, then fired a stun-blast in the direction of the mutant who threw it. "Alright, kid. Stay on your guard, this looks like it could get nasty at any second."

"I am!" Peter argued. "Don't worry about it, I've got it! I'm almost done getting everyone away."

Don't worry about it. Buildings are being demo'd by these guys' pinky finger, and the kid goes don't worry about it.

He can't deny Peter's cockiness (see: blinding optimism) wasn't a contributing factor to why they got along, and why he was ever so fond of him, but god damn if it wasn't annoying (see: worrying).

There was a time and place, after all. Peter could be as confident as he wanted mixing chemicals in the lab to see if they exploded with webs, and Tony would cheer him on from the very far side lines, but this kind of thing was different.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. I'll just conveniently forget the fact your aunt is counting on me to get you home safe. I think that sounds like a stellar plan, do you?"

"Ha ha," Peter replied dryly, and Tony could picture the fighting smile on his face. "Fine, I'm sorry. I'm not having any fun, I'm being very serious, I'm paying lots of attention to my surroundings."

Tony made an amused noise, relenting. "Yeah. Great. That's all I wanted to hear, pipsqueak."

They go back to the job, the adrenaline rush, the kick and punch, the swing—  and Tony's feeling more confident that they'll scrape by this time without any injuries. He himself has taken a few hits, but his armor has held up, and will probably only need a few superficial repairs.