Irondad Oneshots

All he knows

All he knows is pain, and orders.

It's always been like this.

At least, as long as he remembers.

He can't remember life before the pain.

But he knows someone cares.

Used to, at least.

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"Rhodey, he's been gone for eight weeks. I can't just give up."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to rest. You're not going to be able to help him if you're near dead from exhaustion. How long has it been since you last ate?"

Tony rubbed his eyes. "Sometime last week."

His friend groaned. "I'm calling Pepper."

In the end Tony relented, and forced himself to sleep and eat.

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The boy knows that what they do isn't normal. Isn't what they say it is.

It isn't training.

It's torture.

But he doesn't know anything else.

So he doesn't resist.

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Peter woke with a jolt. His senses were going haywire, and his memories-

His memories. They were back.

Then the noise broke through his confusion.

People yelling.

Explosions.

Screaming.

The sound of gunfire.

Then the door to his cell is rammed open, and someone comes through.

It's a woman.

Her hair is red, and she's wearing a black suit.

When she sees him, her eyes widen, her mouth drops open, and she sinks to her knees in front of him.

"Peter?"

"Aunt Natasha?" He asks softly.

She presses a finger to her ear. "Tony? Get down here. Now."

Minutes later, a suit crashed through the door.

It seems to study him for a microsecond, then opens.

Tony steps out, his eyes fastened on Peter's shaking form.

"Pete?" He asks numbly, unable to process the sight of his son.

At the sound of his voice Peter tries to stand up, but the chains force him back down, a choked gasp of pain escaping from his throat.

Tony immediately moves, dropping to his knees beside Peter, and pulling his kid into his arms while Natasha works on the cuffs.

As soon as his hands are free, Peter throws his arms around his dad, fingers curling into the thin fabric of Tony's shirt, stifling the sobs that refuse to stop.

Tony rocks back and forth, whispering soothingly into Peter's hair, and pressing gentle kisses to the top of his head.

Natasha steps out, talking quietly to the team.

Peter doesn't let go.

Not when Tony lifts him up, carrying him through the halls to the ship.

Not when the team catches sight of him, muffled gasps, and exclamations of surprise.