Irondad Oneshots

Falling out, diving in.

The day he turned twelve, Steve took him aside and told him they were going back to New York. The former home of the Avengers.

"I thought you weren't allowed," Peter said indifferently, not looking up from his book.

"We weren't. But Tony-" Steve hesitated. "Your dad made it where we can."

Peter put the book away, resting his elbows on his knees. "When?"

"Tonight."

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

It was only after they'd gotten on the plane that they ran into difficulty.

In midair, something hit the wing of the plane, sending it spiraling out of control.

Complete and utter chaos reigned. Everyone was yelling, luggage was being thrown around, and then suddenly nothing.

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

"Daddy?"

"Yeah Pete?"

"Why do you have that light in your chest?"

Tony had smiled at his son. "It keeps me safe, and makes it where I'm not scared at night."

"Oh." The five year old curled up, head on his dad's chest, watching the arc reactor. "Can it be my nightlight too?"

"Of course it can."

"Goodnight daddy."

"Goodnight bud. I love you."

"Peter?"

"Peter, wake up."

"Peter?"

The voice was familiar, one he'd longed for for two years.

"Peter, please wake up baby. Please."

A calloused hand brushed his hair back, and someone pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Please wake up bud."

A new voice joined. "How is he?"

"Get out." The first voice was angry now.

Peter opened his eyes slowly, looking around the room. He wasn't hurting, and his head felt fuzzy.

Steve was standing by the door, with his dad standing by the bed, and the former captain had a look of sadness on his face. "Tony, please, I know we don't get along now, but he's my son too-"

"Don't give me that!" His dad spat. "He was never, and never will be your son. I love him more than you ever could. I let you be in his life, and you tried to take me out of it. You know why we don't get along? Because you left me to die, Steve. You left me alone, and cold, and dying. With no help coming. And you know what I found when I made it back? That you had kidnapped my nine year old son!"

Steve nodded tiredly. "He knows."

Those two words stopped the tirade of words threatening to spill. "What?" Tony's voice was sharp, with an angry edge.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

"He knows." Steve repeated. "Peter. He knows I took him. He read everything about the Accords that he could, and very firmly, I might add, told me exactly how I was wrong, and just how much of a mistake I was making."