"Oh. This is nice."

The hoarse chuckle rumbling from his mentor's chest soothed Peter's frazzled nerves and he clung all the tighter to Mr. Stark, his breath not coming quite as fast, his heart not trying to beat out of his chest.

"I know what has to happen."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was pushed away from his safe haven and wild eyes found his. "W-what?"

It was then Peter saw Mr. Stark's eyes for the first time in what felt like ages and the unbridled fear there nearly sent the young hero to his knees. Strangely enough though, it made him all the more adamant and he clenched his teeth before gritting it out again.

"I know what has to happen."

"Peter–"

"No, Mr. Stark," he hesitated for only a second, "Tony." his mentor's eyes widened at that, but Peter kept speaking before he could get a word in. "This is it, Tony. This is the end. I know what has to happen to make everything alright again and I know it's not fair, I know that you don't deserve what is about to happen, but it has to. Dr. Strange's one shot? This is it."

"Then tell me. Tell me what it is, and we'll do it. I swear we'll do it, kid," Mr. Stark promised, and Peter almost caved right then and there, but the man in front of him wasn't the man he remembered. He'd been shattered somewhere along the way, obliterated into a million pieces, and Peter knew this would strike the final blow. But it had to be done.

Peter felt the words try to strangle him as he kept speaking them, "I can't. Dr. Strange says it has to happen how it will, with no interference. I know because I saw it. I don't know how. I don't know why. But I did. And I can make sure it happens, but you have to trust me, Tony. You have to, because I can't do this without you."

Tony watched his kid's eyes fill with tears as the last word fell off his lips. "Oh, Pete," he whispered, jerking the young man into his arms and holding him tight. "You'll always have me. Hell, I did this for you. I wouldn't have given it another thought if there wasn't the slightest chance I'd get you back. But I did, and here you are. And God, kid, I'll do whatever you want. I swear. I swear, Pete."

Peter gave him one more slight squeeze around the middle before stepping back, his bloodshot and teary eyes losing that bit of hysteria that had creeped into them and Tony couldn't bite back the grin of pride. His kid. Damn, his kid was alive and well and Tony was never letting him go again.

But it was the sheer love in the kid's eyes that had Tony's own eyes watering. Before he could prod the boy further, Peter spoke. "I need you to do something for me, Tony."

"Anything, kid."

And he meant it.

He'd tear the whole world apart – again – for this kid. This kid right here.

"I need you to tell Morgan you love her three thousand. I need you to hang on to her and never let her go. I need you to keep living, Tony. You can't fall apart like you did after I died the first time. You can't give up on the world because I'm gone."

Wait…

What?

"…when you're gone? Kid, I just got you back. What…?"

Peter shook his head and the tears that had threatened were now a reality, coursing down his cheeks in rivulets of pain and fear, but also acceptance and love. Tony could see the acceptance as clear as day, now, and he berated himself for not realizing it sooner.

"No, Pete, you can't–"

"I have to. Because I can't let her grow up in a world without Ironman. Without Tony Stark. Without her father. So I'm going to do this for her, for you, because I know you'll take care of her. And May. And Ned. They're going to need you. I need you to take care of May because she won't do it herself. She'll–" Peter cut off, his harsh breathing loud even with the fighting in the background, and he knew he had to wrap this up quickly, no matter how hard his hands were shaking, how hard it was to get the words out.

But he looked his mentor in the eye and he let the tears keep coming. There was no stopping them, just like there was no stopping what was about to happen.

"You'll give her a hug for me, won't you Mr. Stark?"

Before Tony could respond, the kid's hand shot out, his white webbing spitting from his web shooters and connecting with Tony's chest. The billionaire felt the breath knocked from his lungs as he was flung backwards, as the sticky webbing connected to the rubble behind him and kept him in place.

Tony watched in dumbfounded silence as his kid walked towards him on steady feet and Tony had never seen Peter look so determined. So deadly serious. And isn't that ironic?

"Promise me." The kid's eyes pleaded with him to understand, even as Thanos bellowed in the distance and Peter's entire body tensed for the upcoming battle. "Please."

And Tony gave in. Because he could never deny those Bambi eyes anything, not when they were so beseeching, so teary, so full of suffering. "I promise you, kid."

A small huff and Tony saw Peter's shoulders relax a fraction as he turned, ready to fling himself into the fray. "But."

Peter stopped, whipping his head back around, waiting. Always waiting for the words to spill from Tony's mouth, no matter how stupid or idiotic they sounded. The kid always waited.

"But this isn't the end. Not for you, kid," Tony promised, even as he struggled against the webs that held him in place. Even as he watched the young hero he promised he'd look after smile sadly and fling himself into the air, into the fight, into the face of death, itself.

When the fighting was all over, when the dust of their enemies had all faded into the wind, Tony was on his knees in the blood, the sweat, and the tears. His jeans were weighted with the viscous fluid that surrounded the downed figure, but he didn't care. His only thought was for the kid. His kid.

"Peter, Peter, Peter, you did it, kid. You did it. We won. We won, Peter," Tony rambled, his hands flitting across the bloody mass that was Peter's Iron Spider suit no longer, but fragmented sections of barely-there protection that did fuck-all in the end.

The infinity stones had torn him apart.

And now he lay there, limp and dying on the ground Tony had once deemed safe, his big brown eyes locked on his mentor. Tony expected to see pain, to see agony or grief, to see regret.

All he saw was love and peace in a face that shouldn't be half burnt away, that shouldn't be turning to blackened ash right before his eyes.

"I've got you, Pete, I've got you," he mumbled, finally anchoring his roaming hands on the kid's neck, balancing the lolling head so he could be in Peter's sightline at all times.

"I love you kid," he said, his eyes overflowing and splashing on the dirty cheeks he cradled.

"Th-three thousand?"

The whispered words grated on Tony's ears, so charred and broken, but he chuckled wetly at them regardless.

"Yeah, Pete. I love you three thousand."

Tony held his kid as the fight left him, as the blood stopped pumping through his veins and the light burnt out in his eyes.

And then Tony kept holding him.

Because three thousand wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.