Irondad Oneshots

He was mine

It had been weeks.

No one had seen a teenager with brown hair and big brown eyes wearing a suit of armor.

There had been no reports of Spiderman being seen either

As he sat staring at a screen, he heard a knock, rousing him from his stupor.

When he turned around, he saw Steve in the doorway.

He sighed inwardly.

The two had been civil to each other.

They talked.

They got along fine, per se, but didn't carry the same trust.

How could they?

"Tony?" Steve said quietly. "Can we talk?"

Tony turned back to his diagrams. "Sorry. Can't. I'm looking for Peter."

He heard Steve give an exasperated sigh. "You never told us why you're looking so desperately for Spiderman. Or do you not trust us with that information?"

Tony stiffened. "I have no reason to trust you with anything, Rogers."

The other huffed. "I'm just saying-"

Tony cut him off. "Just nothing. You're just going to get out of here, because I've made it very clear that I cannot talk at the moment."

Steve stepped forward, grabbing Tony's shoulder, and trying to turn him around.

"Hey."

The voice is young, but angry.

"Get your hands off of him."

The voice is achingly familiar, and Tony is already up and turning around before Steve feels the jerk that pulls him off balance, sending him stumbling away from the billionaire.

The assailant was surprisingly strong to send the super soldier almost to his knees.

He pushes himself upright with the wall, and turns.

That's when he sees the face of a teenage boy, wearing a red, blue and gold metal suit.

Ah. So this is the spiderman.

Wait.

He's a kid?

--------------

Peter Parker stared at the soldier in disgust.

"Get out. If I ever see you touching him again, I will kill you."

And the scary thing is?

He means it.

And he could, if it came down to it.

And Steve apparently realized the same thing, because he backed away, glancing once at Tony, who still hadn't moved, and then back at the enraged teenager, who's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Then he fled.

-------------

Tony stared at the boy in front of him, seeing the hard glint leaving his eyes.

Peter twisted his fingers around the hem of his shirt.

"Hey Mr Stark. I'm feeling fine now."

Tony stumbled forward, pulling the teen toward him.

Peter willingly accepted the hug, wrapping his arms around his mentor, and burying his face in Tony's shirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For begging."

Tony tightened his hold. "No, Pete. No apologies. I've had enough of 'I'm sorry' s to last a lifetime, okay?"

Peter shook his head. "I mean it though. I didn't realize- I didn't know that I did that. It wasn't fair to you. I shouldn't have done it. It didn't help, it only made it worse."

Tony pulled back enough to see the boy's face. "Pete, no. You were scared, understandably, and you wanted it to stop. Again, understandably. I do not blame you."

"But-"

"Nope."

"But I-"

"Nope."

Tony smiled slightly, a bare twitch of his lips. "And by the way, you're grounded from ever saying 'I don't feel so good.' Or from saying your sorry. Or from calling me Mr Stark. It's Tony, kid. Got it?"

Peter nodded awkwardly. "Got it, Mr- Tony."

Tony clapped his shoulder. "We'll work on it."

"Oh, and kid?" He added, almost an after thought.

Peter frowned quizzically. "Yeah?"

"Try not to kill Cap. The world kinda needs the Avengers captain."

The teenager glowered. "I don't."