Irondad Oneshots

Don't Even Breathe - Irondad

Tony's POV

"Steve? Steve, we need your help. ASAP. Someone hacked FRIDAY and is now in the building, armed. There's still some employees in the building. Me and Peter are too. I think Pepper might be? I can't get to my suit. Don't have my nanotech on. We need you here."

"Are you okay?" Steve demands, sounding more scared than I thought he would.

"Yes. Peter's okay. Just get here. Now." I hang up without another thought. I know putting this much pressure on him isn't fair, but I've got my kid and my fiance's lives to think about so Steve better save the day.

The gunshots echo through the air, making me curl tighter over my son. I love most of the traits I gave my kid. Genius, kind, sarcastic, brave. But god, did he have to be self-sacrificing too?

When FRIDAY malfunctioned, I knew there was something wrong. Peter wanted, desperately, to find out what. And when we heard the guns, Peter wanted even more to go stop them, but I pulled that kid straight into the nearest office and locked the doors. I didn't know what was going on, but there was no way I was going to let Peter be in any sort of danger.

Now, though, that we're trapped in this small, dark room listening to the sounds of guns and breaking glass, Peter refuses to even move when I suggest that we get more comfortable while waiting for Captain America to come and save the day.

"Pete, kiddo, we're not going anywhere so we may as well get comfy to spend probably another hour here," I say, giving him a small nudge on the shoulder.

He shakes his head quickly, and in the darkness of the room, I can't see the tears until I feel his shoulders shaking with his quieter sobs.

"Hey, hey, hey, we're going to be fine, kiddo. Steve's on his way right now to fix this," I reassure, pulling his face up gently to see his obvious panic.

"What if we're not? What if they're here for me? Or for you? What if they hurt people? What if Steve doesn't get here in time?" he questions, voice too high, too loud. He flinches at his noise and buries his face in my shirt.

"I promise you, you will be fine. I'll be fine. Everyone else will be fine as long as they don't try to disrupt the thieves. And the compound is only about half an hour from here. He'll be here and everything will be fine, Okay? I promise," I say, keeping my arms wrapped around his shoulders to keep him still.

His breathing hitches again and comes out a sob. The more he cries, the more he panics at being loud, the more effort he puts into stopping his tears, the more he fails, the more he cries. And it starts over.

"Pete, kid, I need you to look at me, Okay?" I whisper. If they're looking for us or if they're planning on killing everyone, we'll be dead in minutes with Peter crying like this. I know it's not his fault, I'm scared too, but he's gotta calm down.

He looks like he's three years old again, crying because he fell down the stairs. Messy brown curls that probably should be cut again, trembling bottom lip, tears spilling over his bambi eyes.

"I'm sorry," he cries, pushing his fists over his eyes.

"It's okay, kiddo. I know it's scary, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We'll be just fine, okay? I'm right here. I'm Iron Man, remember? Iron Man wouldn't let anything happen to you," I say, using the same words as I did when Peter was young.

He nods quickly, seeming to use that as an anchor to get himself under control.

Unfortunately, almost as soon as he starts breathing properly again, there's loud heavy footsteps nearing the door.