Irondad Oneshots

My Life Is Not Easy

Tony walked into the kitchen after a long day of stress and anger-inducing meetings at S.H.I.E.L.D. He saw Peter's backpack on the floor and his lunchbox on the counter with the ice pack and containers still inside.

"Peter, you are sixteen. Two years away from being an adult. Why is your backpack on the floor and your lunchbox not emptied?" Tony asked with heavy annoyance in his voice.

"Because I set everything down when I came home from school." Peter said with the same annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

"Don't take that tone with me." Tony warned sharply, shooting his son a glare.

Peter stood up from the couch and glared back. "You mean the same tone you're taking with me?"

"Hey! I have had a long day of meetings and-"

"Oh, I'm sorry the billionaire had to sit through a few lectures." Peter cut him off. "It's not like my day has been perfect, either!"

"Your day? Your day of high school that ended at 2:30?" Tony scoffed. Both Stark men were heated at this point and things were being said that shouldn't be.

"Fuck you! You don't know what I go through in a day!" Peter yelled, his stress of the day turning to anger, just like his dad's.

"Excuse me? You don't get to swear at me! And yeah, I have an idea of what you go through in a day: nothing! You're a kid, your life's easy!"

Peter was speechless for a moment before yelling, "My life is easy? My life is easy?! I fell down the stairs this morning, I stayed up too late studying last night and fell asleep during a test today and failed it, and I'm fucking depressed and want to die! But yeah, my life is so damn easy!"

Tony was stunned, having not known his kid was feeling this way. "What?" He asked softly as Peter stormed out and locked himself in his room.

Peter sank to the floor with his back against the wall. That was one way of telling his dad he had been feeling depressed for months. He didn't mean to, he snapped and let it slip.

"Pete? Can I come in?" Tony spoke through the door.

"Go away." Peter said coldly, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Please, kid. I'm sorry for what I said." Tony tried again, not going to give up now. "Come on, we need to talk."

Peter stood abruptly and swung the door open. "Talk about what? That I'm depressed? That I hate being alive? That every time I wake up, I wish I hadn't? Because we aren't going to talk about that! I'm fine so leave me alone!"

Tony was stunned for a moment. "Peter, I love you. I love you and it hurts to know you're feeling this way. I've been where you are, and I can help. Therapy, medication, time off school, whatever you need. Just tell me, kid, what do you need? How can I help?"

Peter choked out a sob before falling into Tony, who caught him and held him tight in his arms. "I thought it would go away...I thought I could handle it."

"It's okay, kiddo." Tony sighed, moving to sit on Peter's bed and continuing to hold him. "Everybody needs help sometimes."

"I need help." Peter cried, clutching onto Tony's now tear-soaked shirt.

"I know. We're going to get you help. Therapy, time off school, medication if you need it, all the good stuff. And you know I'm here. When you feel bad or you don't want to be here anymore, come to me. I'm not a therapist, but I can support you and be here for you and do the best I can."

Peter had a look of concern on his face when Tony finished speaking.

"What? What's wrong?" Tony asked.

"It's just...I don't know. Sometimes you aren't in the best mood, like tonight. And when I'm feeling down, I'm not in the best mood either. If we're both in bad moods, well, we just saw what will happen. And, I mean, I can't expect you to never have a bad day or be upset, but...I don't know." Peter nervously explained.

Tony pondered it, nodding his head slightly. He suddenly stood up and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Peter's desk. As he scribbled out a note, he spoke. "How about this? When you need my support more than usual, bring me this note. No questions asked, we can talk if you want or sit and watch movies or something. Just bring this to me and whatever mood I may be in will go out the window."

Tony handed Peter the note, which read: "I need some support."

Peter looked at the note and smiled slightly. "Okay."

"Okay." Tony smiled, the smile growing bigger when Peter held the paper out for him. "What support do you need right now? Movies? Talking? Lab time?"

"Brooklyn 99 binge." Peter answered with a small smile.

"Good choice, kiddie."