♡The Stark Family Oneshots♡

Nightmare (Tony and Morgan Stark)

*small spoilers in this one. As in, it doesn't give away any potential deaths or plot leaks or anything like that, just a minor detail, that in reality, is kind of still a spoiler. You've been warned*

Fragile. A delicate, soft, frail heart. It'd been burned, beaten, torn to shreds and measly glued back together with the only love he'd ever been offered.

Yet, it still managed to keep on beating.

How that happened, Tony had no idea. As far as he was concerned, he'd been through hell and back; he'd been tortured, ruined, physically and mentally exhausted to the point he believed to be no possible return.

Somehow, though, he'd lived long enough to watch his biggest fear unfold before his eyes, to witness his worst nightmare leap from his brain and leak into the world around him . . .

And he'd let it take away his family, let it tear apart his world. The world hates me.

"Hey, Karen, can you record this for me?"

"Of course, Peter. Recording countdown in three, two, one."

"Okay, okay. Hey everyone, so this is Peter, but I guess you already knew that, ha . . . So, umm, basically this message is to prove to my best friend that I can do a double standing backflip on the ground, and I just wanted to have video evidence because he still doesn't believe me!"

Tony cracked a smile, his eyes beginning to burn as he re-watched Parker's suit videos for what would now be about the hundredth time this week. He watched, his heart heavy, as the kid proceeded to flip across the screen with ease, the biggest smile drawn so effortlessly across his face.

Tony missed when he could smile as easily as the kid once did.

Oh kid, I'm sorry I let you down.

Tony sniffled quietly, rubbing his hands across his face as his mind replayed Peter's last moments in what seemed like an endless loop. Pepper had asked him on more than one occasion why he continued to torment himself with these videos, and truth be told, he didn't know why. He could've easily have had FRIDAY delete every tape of the kid, erase every memory from Tony's life.

Honestly, it sounded ideal, it really did – but no matter how close Tony came to giving FRIDAY the command, he always backed out.

His head fell into his hands and he let out a pained sigh. These past four years (God, had it already been that long?), Tony had been at a crossroads; he adored the life he had now – he loved his wife and daughter to death, and would do absolutely anything for them; but at the same time, it had been agonizingly difficult to say goodbye to Peter and his friends for good. It pained him every day, and he was left with only the battle scars that had torn so deep into his conscience that they'd never fully healed.

Was he regretful? Yes, he was, as he assumed any man in their right mind would be. Although, now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell if said guilt was from the snap itself, or his lack in help for the past four years. He knew what the others were up to – it wasn't like he'd cut himself off completely . . . just enough that he didn't have to worry about getting caught up in their mess again. Besides, even if he had wanted to help, he couldn't, not anymore – he had too much to lose.

Still, nothing would ever take away the memories, which was probably why Tony thought it pointless to delete the videos; it wouldn't change anything.

But . . . if he was so prone on letting go, and was certain that his refusal to help the others was what he wanted, then why did he feel like there was still something he should've done? Or even worse, something he still could do?