A Slice Of Life, Death And Everything In-Between

A Small Bump In The Road (Everything's Okay)

hECK yall I haven't written Irondad in a hot minute so I wanted to just write something small and cute to get back into the rhythm, you feel? I hope you enjoy! <3

Also I wrote this in literally 20 minutes so im sorry if it sucks lajsdlfjalsdkfj

__________

Shuffling out from the stuffy warmth of his covers, Peter shivers as the cold air from his fan blows across his tear streaked face.

He hasn't had a nightmare this bad in a few days.

They all started the same, of course.

A gun shot, his Uncle splayed across the sidewalk, his red blood pooling around him as he had stared, lifeless, into the sky. A pulsing warmth, a sting in Peter's neck as the Spider's venom had coursed through his veins, hours of puking and shivering. A crushing weight, the feeling of thousands of pounds of concrete and dirt pressing him down as the Vulture's voice echoed around him.

A red sky. 

His body turning to dust, getting blown away as he had stared into Tony's terrified eyes. His pleas had split from his mouth like honey and the boy nearly gags at the taste as he licks his suddenly dry lips.

Gathering his covers in his trembling arms, Peter silently makes his way to his door, nearly tripping on his cocoon of blankets. The darkness around him presses on all sides and the teen shakes his head, pulling his door open with a gasp like a drowning man coming up for air.

The relief he feels at the seeing the small sliver of light at the other end of the hall nearly knocks Peter off his feet.

Taking a deep, shuttering breath, the boy gathers his courage and walks the few feet to Tony's door.

Lifting up a trembling hand, Peter hesitates for only a split second before knocking, gathering his blanket tighter around his shoulders as he waits for his dad. He doesn't have to wait long, thankfully. With a swoosh, the door is pulled open and Tony is standing there, his eyes reflecting the blue glow of the Arc Reactor under his chin.

"Peter?" The man asks as he blinks, his voice rough with sleep. "Buddy—"

Suddenly, the spiderling can't take it anymore and he is practically leaping across the doorway, wrapping his arms around Tony and pushing his head against his mentor's chest. Immediately, the boy feels Tony's arms wrap around him, the comforting weight finally allowing Peter to break down.

The tears fall, fast and hard, down his face and he muffles his sobs against his father figure's night shirt. Tony makes a sound of confusion and alarm, the noise vibrating against Peter's cheek as the genius holds him impossibly closer, on hand coming up to rub through his hair and the other rubbing soothing circles against his back.

"Hey, hey." Tony whispers, his voice so soft and gentle that Peter sobs again. "Bambino, what's wrong, hmm?"

"B-Bad dream."

"Oh, bud." Gently steering them both further into the room, Tony sits himself and Peter down on the edge of his bed, the teenager a dead weight against his side as the mattress squeaks under them. "It's okay, it's alright. Do you wanna talk about it, kiddo?"

Peter shakes his head, pressing further against his dad's side and bringing his legs up onto the mattress. He cuddles close to the man, not caring how young he looks as he sniffs, nuzzling a red cheek against the soft material of Tony's black shirt. The billionaire holds him impossibly closer in response, reaching down to press a gentle kiss against Peter's forehead.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, Dad." Peter whispers after a few seconds, his guilt making his stomach churn.

This time, its Tony who shakes his head, lying them back so that he is prompt up against the headboard, Peter still snuggled against his chest. The boy relaxes into the familiar embrace, curling up close and sighing.

"I wasn't asleep anyways, buddy" Tony says once they are both settled.

Peter looks up at the man, his doe eyes wide. "But it's late."

Tony sighs, his voice nearly a whisper, but in the silence, Peter hears him all the same. "You aren't the only one with nightmares, Spider-Baby."

"Oh." Peter has never felt more stupid. "I'm sorry."

Tony smiles down at him, his dark eyes alight with faint amusement and such pure parental love that Peter can't help but grin a little back. "It's all good, kid. At least we have each other, right?"

"R-Right." Peter nods. "Always."

They are both silent after that, the only sound being the faint rush of traffic from the New York streets below and their combined breathing. Lifting the covers further up them both, Tony presses a sweet kiss against his child's temple, feeling Peter sigh into the gentle touch. Small hands, twisting digits, grab onto the genius's shirt and clutch, and Tony finds that he doesn't mind the wrinkles he knows will be there in the morning.

Not when he has his son, safe and alive and a little worse for wear, in his arms.