Irondad Oneshots

Remember me (Part 3)

Peter stared at the man in front of him.

"How do I know you?"

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Just like that, Tony's heart broke, just a little more.

"I met you four years ago. You were twelve then. A year ago I recruited you. And took you to Berlin. You fought Captain America, remember?"

Peter shook his head, eyes blank. "Why would I fight Captain America? And how? He's like...this big beefy spangled dude. I'm a kid."

Tony shook his head. "You're a lot more than that."

He tried to stay strong, but Peter, his kid, didn't remember him.

Peter hugged his knees. "Who are you?"

Tony looked at the ground. "Tony- Tony Stark."

Peter tilted his head. "Why are you crying? Are you okay?"

Tony looked away, concentrating on his breathing.

"Yeah. Are you?" He asked, noticing the kid was shaking.

"It just- hurts. They did- they did something-"

Tony rested his hand gently on Peter's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Pete. I'm so sorry."

His breath rushed out of him as Peter turned, throwing his thin arms around the older man.

Then he hugged the boy tightly. Not caring if the kid didn't remember him. He was still his kid.

After several minutes, Peter spoke. "Are you my dad?"

Tony tensed. "Not exactly. I mean, kind of. Well, you're like- it's just- complicated. Your parents are dead, but I kind of unofficially adopted you. So you could say that, yeah. Yeah."

Peter was silent for several seconds. "Could you tell me what I was like? I don't remember."

Tony shifted position. "You were...different. I mean, most teenagers are... well... teenagers. You were different. You were smart, brave, loyal. You knew more about some stuff than I did, and I'm kind of a genius. I would write out an equation, with something missing, or wrong and you would instantly correct me. "Nope," you'd say. "That's wrong. Here, let me fix it." And you would."

"You loved star wars. Your best friends were Ned Leeds, and Michelle Jones. You were a total nerd. You loved science pun tshirts. Your favorite one was the atom one. 'Never trust an atom, because they make up everything.' You loved it."

"You go to Midtown High. You work in my labs almost every day. We tell people that it's an internship."

He looked down, and realized that Peter's eyes were drooping, and he was slowly relaxing.

He talked until his voice was hoarse, not caring, just wanting his kid to feel safe.

As safe as he could at that particular moment.

Tony didn't move at all, afraid to move the sleeping teen, and eventually felt his eyelids grow heavy.

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He woke when he felt Peter being pulled roughly out of his arms.

"Dad!" Peter cried desperately as the guards tried to pull him away.

Tony shot up, reaching for Peter, but as he got close enough, he was shoved back, slamming into the wall.

He felt his vision going black, and he watched Peter disappear around the door helplessly.

As he fell into darkness, his son's last words echoed in his ears.

"I don't wanna go!"

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Peter's eyes shot open. Somehow he had fallen asleep. The room was dark, and he was cuffed to a chair.

"Awake now, hmm? It appears we didn't wipe you thoroughly enough the first time. You remembered him."

Peter shook his head desperately. "I don't remember anything! Please please let me go!"

The voice hummed darkly. "I don't think I will. Wipe him."

The pain started.

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They didn't bring Peter back.

Tony paced for hours.

All he could do was pace.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Nothing helped.

Nothing blocked out the screams.

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Peter bent over him. "Hey Mr Stark. It's okay. I'm okay. I just need you to wake up for me."

"Wake up."

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"Tony."

"Tony, wake up."

Tony stirred, slowly opening his eyes. They wandered lazily around the room until they landed on a worried face just inches from his own.

"Steve?"