The minute he saw Peter, fighting down on Earth, he should have sent him back.

He should have sent him back.

Because now they were fighting for their lives- "-right where I didn't want you to be-"- and Tony didn't know what to do.

He had no idea.

He had never just- not known. He always had an idea, a plan, some way, something, to help.

But not this time.

This time, he was stuck on a foreign planet, with two idiots from space, one idiot from Missouri, the Bleecker Street magician, and his wide eyed kid that he had to protect. 

So, sue him, he had no idea what to do.

Whenever he looked at Peter, he saw blind trust.

And that just made it harder, because he couldn't tell the kid that they might not come home, that Tony might not be able to keep him safe this time.

That Tony might not be able to keep his silent promise of it's alright, it'll be okay, and that was what scared him the most.

He couldn't protect the kid.

The one promise he gave to May was that he would keep their kid safe.

And now he couldn't even do that.

He would try- oh he would try- but it wouldn't be enough.

Thanos was coming.

And Thanos always wins.

"Mr Stark?"

The teenager approached him warily, eyes wide, full of badly hidden fear. 

"Hey kid." He just sounded tired, and he could almost see the gears turning in Peter's head.

"We're not going to make it, are we?"

He hated how Peter's voice didn't tremble, didn't shake.

Not that he wanted the kid to be scared, no, but the teenager didn't fully understand.

They were as good as dead.

"I promised May that I would keep you safe, Pete. I'm keeping that promise if it's the last thing I do."

A split second of silence.

Then…

"I don't- I don't want it to be."

Tony glanced up quickly, alarmed at how terrified the teenager sounded now.

Tears were welling in Peter's eyes, and he was hugging himself tightly, as if trying to self-comfort. "I don't want you to protect me if it means you get hurt."

He reached out, grabbing Peter's shoulder, and tugging him into a hug. "I've got to protect you, kid. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."

Peter's arms came up hesitantly, but then tightened, and he buried his face in Tony's neck. "Please be careful," he mumbled.

Tony sighed. "Okay."

After a lengthy discussion of plans, which the space people were no help with, they were ready.

(In hindsight, no one could be ready for this.)

Thanis appeared in a swirl of blue and purple, standing several feet above Strange, who was sitting casually on an outcrop of rubble.

"Oh, you’re much more of a Thanos," he said conversationally. 

"I take it the Maw is dead," Thanos rumbled. "This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission."

The corner of the sorcerer's mouth lifted in a slight smirk. "You may regret that. He brought you face-to-face with the Master of the Mystic Arts."

The words did nothing to dissuade the Titan, leaving him to gesture around the planet. "And where do you think he brought you?"

Quill hid silently nearby, behind the wreckage with his weapon ready.

Peter crouched on top of the structure, white eye lenses narrowed into slits.

"Let me guess." Strange mused. "Your home?"

Thanos smiled reminiscently. "It was. And it was beautiful."

In a rush of purple, the surrounding landscape was awash in color, showing a thriving city. 

"Titan was like most planets. Too many mouths, and not enough to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution."

Strange scoffed. "Yeah. Genocide."

Thanos sighed wearily. "But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike. They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass."

The glamour faded, and Titan was back to its former barren wasteland.

"Congratulations," Strange drawled. "You’re a prophet."

"I’m a survivor," Thanos corrected.

"Who wants to murder trillions." 

"With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers, and they would all cease to exist." The Titan smiled, a small twist of his lips. "I call that mercy."

"And then what?"

Thanos gave another thin smile. "I finally rest…And watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills."

Strange rose. "I think you’ll find our will-" orange circles formed around his fists, "-equal to yours."

Thanos quirked his brow. "Ours?"

Alarm flashed through his eyes at the sight of rubble hurtling down towards him, and he tried to use the power stone too late to stop it.

Tony landed on the ground. "Piece of cake, Quill."

"Yeah," Quill agreed, flying in from the other side. "If your goal was to tick him off."

The wreckage on top of Thanos erupted, the pieces glowing with purple. 

Tony's eyes widened in alarm before he spun away from the wreckage Thanos sent hurtling at him.

Peter sent webs into his eyes, and swung in to kick him in the face. 

Strange summoned a blade, but Thanos stopped it with his hand, and tore the web from his eyes. 

He advanced on Strange, and kicked him just as Strange summoned a shield, absorbing the force of his blow, but knocking him back several feet.

Quill attacked, bounding through the air on orange steps made by the sorcerer, and dove through a portal while flipping Thanos off.

"Do not let him close his fist!" Strange ordered, and the Cloak of Levitation leapt to do his bidding.

It latched around the Titan's fist, and a small explosion pushed him forward slightly.

Peter flipped through a portal, voice exuberant. "Magic!"

His foot connected with Thanos' head, and he used it as a landing pad to push off. "More magic!"

Then he leapt into another portal. As Thanos tried to recover, Peter came in from the opposite direction.

"Magic with a kick!" Another blow had the titan reeling, and he dove into a portal again.

Another portal formed, and he hurtled through it. "Magic with a-"

Before he could finish, Thanos turned, grabbing him from the air, and threw him to the ground, with his hand around his neck.

"Insect!" He growled. 

Thanos threw him into the air, intending on using the gauntlet on him, but Tony came to the rescue, teeth gritting at the sight of the titan attacking his kid.

"Not-" he landed a hit. "My-" another blow. "-Kid!"

They had failed.

Even after all their planning, their teamwork, even with their combined hate of Thanos, it hadn't been enough.

And now-

Still gasping in pain from the stab wound, he was left staring at Strange.

"Why would you do that?" The question asked on a breath.

"There was no way, Stark." The wizard just looked tired, lines of his face sharpening. "Not after we failed to get it off."

Peter knelt beside him, wide eyes filled with fear. "Mr Stark? You need a doctor-" 

He broke off with a shuddering gasp, and spun to see the rest of the guardians gathered around. "Something's wrong."

Mantis was the first to look down at her own hands, dark eyes wide with curiosity. "Something is happening."

They stared in horror as she faded into ashes, then was blown away.

"Quill?"

For the first time, Drax seemed afraid.

Then he was gone too.

Quill started to fragment, slowly lifting his eyes as Tony called out a low reassurance.

And then nothing.

Strange's voice brought them out of their stupor, and they turned to see him.

"Tony," he said heavily. "There was never any other way."

Then he too was gone.

"Mr Stark?"

Peter's voice shook.

"I don't- what's happening?" He looked down at his own hands in terror, afraid he'd see himself falling to pieces.

"Where'd they go?" Panic rapidly took over his face. "Mr Stark?"

Tony stared at him with the same terror, waiting for him to fade away- because every good thing left him-

But it didn't happen, and he reached out, letting the boy cling to him, letting them cling to each other. 

There was never any other way.

The blue woman- Nebula- guided them to the ship.

She said nothing, but Tony could see by her darting glances at the both of them that she was concerned- even if she didn't show it.

Peter immediately took refuge in one of the corners away from the windows, arms around his knees, face buried. 

He didn't know how to comfort him.

He wasn't a father-

But all the same he needed to do something.

To stop the pain as best he could.

So he moved over, trusting Nebula to direct their course home.

The teen didn't look up at the footsteps, and Tony sank down to rest against the wall beside him.

He wasn't surprised when Peter looked up finally, cheeks streaked with tears. "May- she might-"

"Come here."

Peter turned towards him, a question in his eyes.

When Tony nodded, the teenager scooted forward, slowly putting his arms around his mentor, but remaining tense.

"Peter."

He looked up, tear filled eyes meeting Tony's.

"Relax. Try and sleep. You're crashing from adrenaline."

"I don't know if I can relax. He just- killed them, and he said he was going to kill half of everything…" he took a deep breath, letting it out, and sagging fully into Tony's embrace. "What if May's gone?"

Tony was silent for barely a minute before speaking, he had already planned for this.

"You'll stay with me. If- if it's as bad as it might be, then we need to stay together."

His voice trailed away as he considered fully for the first time the implications of what Thanos had done.

If- no, when they got back to earth, they would find a way.

Surely he and Bruce could do it.

They could find a way.

But what if- 

No.

He shook his head to clear the thought.

Pepper would be fine.

Rhodey would be fine.

Happy would be fine.

They would all be there.

He couldn't let that hope go, or he would go with it.

There wouldn't be anything to go back for.

To live for.

But then the sleeping form against him shifted, muttering something groggily, and Tony felt a rush of determination.

May had to be alive.

And he had to bring their kid home, just like he'd promised.

Stark men are made of iron.

Well, now was the time to test that statement.

Peter woke screaming.

Tony had been in the cockpit, or what passed for one.

There was an empty bedroom that had human decor in it, which he assumed was the other Peter's, and he led the teenager into the room, pulling the blanket over him, and left him to rest.

It wasn't working.

As soon as he heard the scream, he dropped the tool that he had been using, and hurried into the dark room.

Peter was in the middle of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, and hands covering his ears.

He was rocking back and forth, sobs breaking free from his chest.

Tony sat down, pulling his legs up onto the bed, and taking Peter's clenched hands in his own, gently easing them away from the teen's ears. 

"Pete? Hey, it's okay. You're safe. I'm here, you're okay. Just breathe." He lowered Peter's hand to his chest, letting him feel the heartbeat. "C'mon, see? Breathe."

He smoothed his hand over Peter's cheek, the comforting gesture coming naturally to him. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Heart falling when Peter shook his head, Tony nodded tightly. "Okay, that's okay. Don't worry, you're safe. I'm right here, yeah? Keep breathing for me."

Hesitating to do it, because he didn't really have any right to, he put his arms around the teenager, hugging him gently.

Peter immediately curled into him, hands coming up to grip his shirt tightly.

Tony relaxed minisculely, adjusting their position to where they were leaning back against the headboard.

The teenager went with it without complaint, tucking his head under Tony's chin, ear over his heart, and Tony's arms firmly around him.

"You're safe, Pete," Tony whispered, hand running up and down the teenagers shoulder. "You're safe with me. When we get to earth, May will be there, waiting for you. She'll be smiling, and she'll run up and hug you, and then scold you for making her worry."

Peter huffed a laugh, but his fingers gripped tighter, belaying his fear.

"And if she isn't?" His voice shook.

"Then I'll be there. I told you before, we're going to stick together. I'm not going to let you be alone."

"Tony?"

Vaguely Tony realized that Peter had dropped the habit of calling him 'Mr Stark', and the thought made him smile faintly.

Then he remembered why he thought of that in the first place, and rolled his head to the side, eyes finding the teenager's own.

"Hey Pete," he rasped. "You good?"

Peter shook his head weakly. "Don't wanna… don't wanna die."

Tony lifted his head with an immense amount of effort, trying to swallow, but any trace of moisture was long gone. "I know, Pete… I know. Just- c'mere, 'kay?"

It took way longer than it should've for Peter to move, dragging himself over to where Tony was leaning against the wall of the cockpit.

It took even longer for Tony to wrap his arms around Peter, securing the teenager close to him. "'S gonna be okay, Pete. Not gonna let 'em get you."

"I know," Peter mumbled.

He would have been working on the ship if he had it in him, but oxygen deprivation had left him as weak as a newborn, unable to move, barely able to lift his head.

As it was he could only cling to Peter, hoping that death would be painless for the child in his arms.

Peter was almost gone.

Tony could feel it in the weak flutter of his lungs.

In the faint way he tried to drag in more air, in vain.

In the way his head slipped away from Tony's shoulder, hanging against his own chest.

It felt wrong to leave him like that.

After four attempts at trying to move his arm, he succeeded, managing to prop Peter's head up against him once more, slumping further to the floor.

By the time Carol Danvers reached the ship, they were too far under to see her light, and to feel the movement of the ship.

Only the blue Nebula sat watch, keen eyes on the planet as it grew closer.

Peter woke up to voices, and bright lights, swarming around him.

He panicked.

Thrashing around, trying to get away from whoever was holding him down. 

It worried him that he was so weak- it didn't occur to him that he should be dead.

"Hey- hey, kid- calm down-"

A cold rush of something filled his veins, and he sank back into oblivion.

He surfaced again, long after the light had faded from the outside world.

The only light was a lamp, dim, but making it bright enough to see his surroundings.

He was alone, which meant-

May.

Then another thought broke through, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

An IV clung to his arm, and he glared at it.

Even though it would impede any movement, it wasn't a good idea to rip it out.

But if they were at the compound, then-

"Friday?"

His voice was raspy with disuse. 

"Hello, Peter. I am glad you are awake. Would you like me to alert Doctor Cho?"

He frowned. "Where's Tony? And Pepper?"

A long silence.

Then…

"Ms Potts did not survive."

Air rushed out of his lungs.

"What about Mr Rhodes? Happy?"

A longer pause.

"They did not make it."

Peter took a shuddering breath. 

There was one question he had to know the answer to.

"And- my aunt? Is May okay? And Ned? MJ?"

Friday went silent, long enough that he wondered if she had turned off, but finally… 

"They are among the dusted."

Horror stole his breath, along with shuddering sobs.

May had been his only family for years.

She had held him together when she was falling apart at her husband's death, kept him fed, clothed, and in school, and now she was gone, and he wasn't. 

And he wouldn't get her back.

Doctor Strange had said-

He had said that when they failed to get the gauntlet off, they wouldn't be able to fix it.

They had failed.

In that instant, he wished he'd been taken too.

Friday must have alerted Tony, because he knocked quietly, and without waiting for a response, entered.

His eyes were red, and his face was drawn and tired.

He took one look at the teenager, and his entire demeanor softened.

Crossing the room, he quickly and quietly untangled the IV cord from Peter's fingers, then gently pushed him back onto the pillow.

The teenager went without resistance, curling up on his side, tears dampening the fabric of the pillowcase.

Then Tony sat on the bed,leaning back to rest against the same pillow, and gently rearranged their position to where Peter was leaning on his chest, face tucked into his neck.

And as they lay there, Peter could feel the quiet hitching breaths of his mentor, and feel the hot tears against his hair.

No words were spoken, and none were needed.

In that instant, they knew that they would need each other to get through the coming days.

As soon as they were physically able, Peter healing faster than Tony, they bought a cabin away from the city, secluded, by a lake.

Tony went through his days with slumped shoulders, and shadowed eyes.

The loss of his fiance, and best friends was enough to drive anyone crazy, but he wouldn't let it, because he had to keep going.

On the days when it felt like too much, and he wanted, so badly to drink himself into oblivion, he didn't. 

And the reason why was sitting in a bedroom, lights off, eyes red, and face tear streaked. 

Peter hadn't spoken a word since they got back.

His eyes, once so bright and full of life, were empty.

The sparkle was gone, leaving them hazy, and dull.

He never smiled.

"Peter?"

The door swung open silently, a rectangle of light falling in the pile of blankets.

"Pete? You okay in there?"

Tony set a plate down on the dresser, and sighed heavily.

Bending down, he gently tugged the corner of the blanket away from the teenager's face. "You need to eat, buddy. You haven't eaten today, or yesterday, and with your metabolism it's going to kick you when you're down."

Peter lifted himself on his elbows, hair wild, eyes wet, and Tony smiled faintly. "There we go. I made your favorite."

A small twitch of the boy's mouth rewarded his effort.

As the teenager took a small bite, Tony leaned back against the headboard, wincing as his back protested, and let his gaze fall on Peter's back.

He frowned.

The teenager was too thin.

Ribs showed, and Tony guessed it had to do with the metabolism.

From then on, he decided, Peter was eating three large meals a day, along with snacking. 

"You've got to eat more, Pete. Don't want you getting sick."

Shoving the last bite in his mouth, Peter pushed it away, and moved back to curl up under Tony's arm, pressed against his side.

He had been clingy ever since it happened, and Tony wasn't asking why.

He knew the need for reassurance, had felt it for years, and wouldn't deny the teenager anything that would help him feel safer. 

"I know you're not okay," he whispered. "But- are you okay?"

Peter shrugged slightly, burrowing further into Tony's arms.

A long silence.

"It's better when you're here."

The whisper was so quiet he had to strain for it to reach his ears.

Then he pressed a kiss to the top of Peter's head, eyes wet, and held him closer. 

Peter's birthday came sooner than he had expected.

Doubting that Peter wanted a celebration, Tony still made a small cake, vanilla with buttercream frosting, and got him a present.

It wasn't much, but he hoped that Peter- being as sentimental as he was- would love it.

Peter came downstairs sometime in the afternoon, eyes drooping, and wearing one of Tony's old hoodies.

The sleeves dangled over his hands, making him appear younger than his sixteen years.

Tony glanced up from where he was trying pancakes, giving the teenager a warm smile. "Hey kiddo. Hungry?"

Peter flopped bonelessly against his back, emitting a sleepy hum. "Love pancakes."

"I know you do." Tony glanced over his shoulder. "Set the table please."

Peter nodded tiredly, then slowly trudged to the cabinet, pulling out two plates, and two mugs.

"Get the apple butter out too, kiddo."

"You and your apple butter," Peter huffed lightly. "The only thing that belongs on pancakes is syrup, and butter."

Tony ruffled his hair as he passed by. "Don't knock it till you try it."

"Never trying it," Peter tossed over his shoulder. "Never. Abomination."

"I could say the same for your pineapple pizza," Tony said lightly. 

A look of fake horror washed over Peter's face. "Pineapple absolutely does belong on a pizza!"

"Whatever you say, kiddo."

"Tell you what," Peter leaned against the counter beside the stove, fighting to hide a smile. "You try my pizza, and I'll try your apple butter pancakes."

Pretending to consider it, Tony flipped a pancake. "Hmm. Stiff deal."

"Tonyyyyyyy…"

"Alright fine. One pancake equals one slice. Take it or leave it."

"Deal." Peter tugged the large sleeves over his fingers, resting his chin on Tony's shoulder, and watching him cook. "You better have made some chocolate chip ones too."

"As if I'd make anything else." Tony rejoined.

Though their taste in food differed often, they agreed on one thing.

Chocolate chip pancakes couldn't be topped in the pancake category.

Flipping the last pancake onto the plate, he turned off the stove, and carried it to the table.

Peter fell into a chair, dramatically, holding his hand over his brow. "I need food before I starve..."

"Shut up and eat your apple butter pancakes," Tony lifted his eyebrows.

An extended groan trailed over the table. "Do I have to?"

"If you want me to eat your abomination of a pizza, yes."

Finally trying a bite, Peter sat motionless for several seconds. "If I say I don't entirely hate it, will you hold it over me for the rest of my life?"

"Absolutely."

"Hey Pete?"

The teenager flipped over on the bed, dropping his book beside him, and sitting up. "Yeah?"

Tony sat down beside him slowly, hands wrapped around a tiny box, and a folder. "I have something for you. A birthday present, if you will."

Peter's face shuttered. "I don't need presents, Tony. You've already done so much for me, and-"

Raising a finger to his lips, Tony shook his head. "Not that kind of present."

With a look of curiosity, Peter took the box, studying all sides.

Opening it gently, Peter drew in a sharp breath as he saw the item.

A watch, silver colored, but in the shape of Tony's arc reactor.

The lid flipped open, and Peter was left staring at a small photo of the two of them, laughing at something, happy and carefree.

"It has a panic button," Tony said quietly. "And a tracker, only activated in emergencies. It has a call function, and is coded with Karen."

Peter's eyes glistened with tears, and he turned to wrap his arms around Tony, pressing his face into the soft material of Tony's shirt. "It's perfect."

Tony put his arms around Peter, and when he spoke, his voice was warm, and gentle. "You said me being here helps. So when I'm not with you, you can call, or just look at it, and remember that I'm always with you."

A quiet sob shook Peter's frame, and he squeezed tighter.

"I've got something else for you, if you're up for it."

Peter nodded, rubbing his hand over his face, and sitting up to take the folder.

He remained close to Tony's side, though. 

The folder was deep red, and inconspicuous looking.

He opened it.

A stack of papers sat there.

The top paper had one sentence written.

It simply read, 

Remember that this won't change anything, if you don't want it to.

Glancing at Tony, who simply nodded quickly, Peter lifted it out, looking at the paper underneath.

At the top of the page were bold black letters, and Peter gaped at the words as he realized what it said.

Adoption Form.

When he didn't say anything for several seconds, Tony started rambling nervously.

"It doesn't- if you don't want this, it's fine, and nothing will change, and you can just-"

He was interrupted by Peter throwing his arms around him, crying again, tears soaking the front of his shirt.

Tony felt a pang of worry, but his fears were relieved by Peter's shaky voice. "I want it- I really want it-"

He let out a breath, smile spreading over his face. "I want it too."

They pulled back enough to see each others faces, Tony's bright and smiling, Peter's wet with tears, but with a grin big enough to light up the room.

"Whaddya say, kiddo?" Tony brushed his thumb under Peter's eye, wiping away the dampness. "Want to make this official?"

Peter nodded quickly, falling back into Tony's arms.

The day after the adoption was finalized, Tony brought Peter to a secluded spot behind the cabin that he had never seen before.

In the clearing were four headstones, in a straight row.

Happy.

Rhodey.

Pepper.

May.

Tony kept his arm around Peter, staying silent to let the teen process.

"What- why did you-?"

"They would be happy for us," Tony said quietly.

Even after a year, the loss was fresh, undiminished.

"Knowing that we have each other." He added. "May told me that if she couldn't be there for you, then she was glad I would."

Peter's lip trembled. "I miss her."

Tony had been expecting the tears, and drew Peter closer, tucking his head under his chin. "I know."

Peter woke up crying, gasping for breath.

Echoes of his dream flashed through his head, screams ringing in his ears.

Sobs shook his body, and he didn't have to think before he was out of bed, and in front of Tony's door.

It was the first time he had woken up with a nightmare, and Tony wasn't there.

This was new, he hadn't been in his adoptive father's room like this, and he hesitated before pushing the door open, and stepping silently in.

He didn't know what alerted Tony, but there was the sound of movement, and the familiar voice. "Pete? You okay?"

Peter lifted the blanket on the other side, crawling in, and moving over to the middle, then settling down against Tony's side.

Warm arms wrapped around him, and Tony rested his cheek against the side of his head. "Bad dream?"

He nodded silently, and he felt more than heard Tony sigh.

"Try to go back to sleep, okay?"

"I don't want to," Peter whispered. "I don't want to see her again."

Her?

Tony shifted slightly, hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. "Who?"

"May."

The way he said it sounded scared.

"You dreamed about May?"

Peter nodded stiffly, pressing his face against Tony's shoulder. "She said I was forgetting her. That she was my only family, and you weren't."

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter's forehead, tightening his hold. "That wasn't her, bud. The real May knows that you aren't forgetting her. She told me that she wanted me to take care of you, and that she was happy it would be me."

He let out a breath. "You can sleep in here, okay? I'll be right here, and hopefully you won't dream again."

The teenager shook his head softly. "I don't think I can go to sleep again."

Tony threaded his fingers through Peter's hair, smiling softly as the boy melted against his side, letting out a sleepy hum. "Just try."

When there was no reply, Tony let his head rest against Peter's, fingers scratching gently at his scalp.

Throwing caution to the wind, he pressed another kiss to his temple. "I love you, Pete."

Peter pressed his face against Tony's neck, a tiny smile playing over his face. "Love you, dad," he said sleepily.

A burst of warmth shot from his heart, filling his body. "Turning me into a big sap," he whispered. "And I'm enjoying every minute of it."

They made a trip into the city for the first time in months, Peter needing new clothes, and Tony intending to stock up on groceries.

Their first stop was a McDonalds, with Tony ordering coffee, and four sausage biscuits for Peter.

After two hours of shopping for clothes, they admitted defeat, and piled back into the car.

Then Tony dropped a bombshell.

They had to meet with the Rogue Avengers.

"What the heck?"

Tony kept his eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I don't want this any more than you do, kiddo. Believe me. I'd as soon shoot myself in the foot than set it in the room with them."

"Why? They hurt you, Tony! Steve nearly killed you!" Peter's voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't want you to have to see them."

Swallowing harshly, Tony rested his hand on Peter's arm, giving him a strained smile. "Neither do I, but it's this once, and then I can wash my hands of them."

He brushed his thumb over Peter's wrinkled forehead. "Besides. I'll have you with me this time."

They shared a small smile.

The tower was emptier than usual.

Their footsteps echoed in the hallways, and lights were out all over the building.

They stopped in front of a conference room door, both taking deep breaths.

"We can do this, Pete. We can."

Peter hugged him quickly, pressing his nose into Tony's shoulder. "If they try anything I'm webbing them to the ceiling."

A small smile eased the tension on his face, and he turned it open the door. "I won't stop you."

The door swung open silently.

The two occupants of the room stood up, turning to face them as they entered.

The black widow was there, red and blonde hair in a bun.

Steve Rogers with a beard.

"Let's make this quick," Tony said briskly. "First off, the Avengers HQ is yours now. I want nothing to do with it. All facilities and faculty are in your care, and your responsibility."

He held up a hand as they went to speak. "I'm retired. Whatever you want to do with this, fine. Train new recruits, the world needs them, but I'm out. We're done."

"Tony." Natasha stepped forward, arms coming up to hug him. "Are you okay?"

He let her hug him, stiffly patting her back once. "I'm fine."

She pulled back, her smile less forced. "Who's this?"

Peter gave her a brief nod. "Peter."

Tony put his arm around him, giving him a quick smile. "This is my son, Peter."

Steve spoke up, voice sounding slightly confused. "Since when did you have a son? Is he actually- yours?"

Feeling the way Tony stiffened when he spoke, Peter stared him down. "I'm his son in every way that matters. Not that it's your business."

Tony handed Natasha a folder, then glanced briefly at Steve. "Those are the papers. I want nothing to do with any of this again."

A brief second of silence, and then Natasha nodded. "Be safe."

"Yep," Tony said briskly, turning away. "Time for us to get home, Pete. You can pick a movie for us to watch."

"Wait, Tony-" Steve reached for his shoulder to stop him, and they all saw Tony flinch.

It was slight, barely even there, but they saw it.

"Back. Off." Peter snapped. "Don't touch him."

Something flickered in the older man's eyes, and tugged gently on Peter's shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go."

Peter fixed his eyes on the blond. "You stay away from him."

He doesn't wait for a reaction, just turns and walks out.

Behind him, Natasha raised her eyebrows slightly, an impressed looming her face as she looked at her friend. "You look like you're about to vomit."

Steve blinked quickly, shaking his head. "You weren't on the receiving end of that glare, Nat. That kid means business."

In the car, Peter curled up in the seat, head resting against the window. "Hey Tony?"

"Yeah?"

A beat of silence.

"Do you think May's with Ben?"

Tony glanced over, a soft smile erasing the lines of worry around his eyes. "Oh yeah. Definitely. Probably watching us right now, laughing about how you threatened Captain America."

A faint blush stained Peter's cheeks. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yup." Tony turned the car on, and buckling up. "That's the first time I've seen Cap look that nervous."

Peter hid his face in his hands. "The floor needs to open up and swallow me whole."

"And miss the double scoop ice cream cone I was about to get you?"

The teenager waved his hands in front of his face pleadingly. "No no no- I want ice cream!"

Hiding a smirk, Tony swung into a drive through.

They sat on the front porch swing, icecream in hand, silent, taking in the sounds of the woods around them.

"Hey dad?"

It sounded hesitant, as if Peter was testing the waters, and Tony smiled softly, putting his arm around his son. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're here."

Tony nodded slowly, knowing what he was trying to say. "Me too, Pete."

Peter curled into his side, dropping his container onto the small table, and resting his head against his chest. "Love you."

A burst of warmth went through him. 

"Love you too, Pete."