Y'all gonna hate me for this, oof not that I'm scared, but y'all should be.

(For this particular fic everything is the same speaking on Infinity War terms except that Tony and Pepper are already married, Peter is their son and he survived the Decimation. And that Tony and Peter go to Vormir to retrieve the Soul Stone instead of Clint and Natasha who go with Steve, Hulk, and Scott at the invasion of New York City.)
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Whatever it takes.

Those were the thoughts that coursed through the genius brains of father and son as the spaceship of the feisty raccoon (?) settled onto the purple sand, and the latter looked around the foreign planet in breaktaking awe. 

Purple sand glittered through his vision as the vigilante craned his head up to look at the atmosphere. The sky was glazed with hues of pinks, both bright and dark, effectively creating a euphoric sense of bliss that at the same time carved fear into Peter’s young heart. 

He did a 360 degree turn, trying to observe the planet that supposedly took the life of Gamora, at least according to what Nebula told them. He searched for signs of life, buildings, a supported ecosystem but was only met with an infinite bank of glistening purple. And an incredibly high tower on the top of a sandstone cliff. 

His partner in the mission turned to him and spoke quietly, “I guess that’s where we’re going, kiddo.”

Peter warily nodded at the sight of the mountain looming over the pair. Something in his gut told him that this mission was going to heavily backfire on them, and that feeling increased the more Peter climbed up the mountain. 

Peter thickly swallowed as he looked up at the peak of the cliff, that was going to be a hell of a climb. Even with his abilities. He grumbled to his father, “Couldn’t we have landed up there?” 

His father glumly shook his head, “No, c’mon, a cliff is no match for Iron Man and Spiderman.”

...

The hike up the mountain was long and tiring, even with Peter’s enhanced senses. The boy didn’t want to imagine how his Dad must’ve felt, and his Dad was far older than he was. About halfway to the top, Peter came to a well-needed stop to get in a few breaths. He didn’t realize how loud he was panting when his dad turned around and walked back to ensure his son was a-okay, “Pete, you okay?”

Peter nodded, turning to face the vast horizon, “Yeah. The view from up here is beautiful.” But terrifying. The teenager bite his lip to prevent the last bit of words spilling out, neither Stark needed unnecessary paranoia. Paranoia led to more complications, and there were already to many of those in life. 

Tony nodded, sensing the unspoken words lingering in the space between, “We’re going to be okay Petey pie. We’re going to do this, we’re going to bring everyone back.”

Peter stiffly nodded, and curled his thin digits around his father’s hand, as they together continued to climb up the rocky terrain. Once the pair had reached the top, Peter exhaled softly at the eerie yet mesmerizing landscape that was displayed right in front of his blown irises. 

Peter leaned against his father’s shoulder, and the two remained silent, each enjoying the majestic view while at the same time, doing their humanly best to ignore the twitching pit in their gut. The two lingered in the soft, soaked silence when a deep and emotionless voice broke out, following the soft sound of rustling fabric. 

The voice was as smooth as silk as it whispered, “Enjoying the view are you?”

The broken silence immediately triggered the fight or flight response within the Stark men. Both immediately turned around and braced themselves for a fight, should the occasion arise. Peter held a stance and spoke tightly, “Where is the location of the Soul Stone?”

A blaster-poised Tony nodded curtly, “Yeah Severus Snape. Take off the hood would ya?”

The cloaked figure paid no heed and responded in a husky voice, “Welcome, Peter Anthony Stark and Anthony Edward Stark. For what you seek, a price is demanded.” A gale of wind blew past the three, rustling the heavy cloak and revealed red, burned skin. 

The two Starks shared confused looks but followed the figure to the edge of the sandstone cliff. Peter gulped, Adam’s Apple bounced against his dry throat. White flakes of snow swiveled around him as they danced their way down to the ground, little flumes of it embedded themselves into locks of Peter’s curls. Speaking of way down, Peter’s eyes fell into the unknown,  at the edge of the cliff, and the space of marble that occupied the area beneath it.

The husky, emotionless voice spoke once again, grounding Peter to the harsh reality he lived in, “A soul demands a soul in exchange. For what you seek, a soul, a sacrifice must be given in order to acquire what you wish for.”

Right as the last syllable echoed, Peter just noticed a faint pool of green-colored blood dotting the marble beneath the cliff. And then the nausea came in. Peter felt the landscape blue and then spin around him, and the next thing he knew, or didn’t actually, he was sitting down on a rock and his gloved hands were shaking. 

Tony shook his head, the stubborn genius refused to believe the offer presented to him, “No, he’s lying. Peter, there has to be another way, there just has to.” Because what the Red Skull was presenting was too much, an unfair price for salvation. 

Peter spoke in a tone that was somewhat of his own, “Nebula said that Thanos took Gamora here to find the Soul Stone.” Peter thickly swallowed and a feeling of dejection came over him, “And she didn’t return with him. That can’t be a coincidence.” 

Tony refused to make eye contact with anyone as a wave of brokeness washed over him as thin, cracked lips pressed shut. For the first time in all of Tony’s lives, the genius, ex-playboy, billionare, and philanthropist didn’t know what to say. 

And neither did his son. Peter sat silently, gears churning as he attempted to process the situation in front of him. Then it came to him. He didn’t like it, but it was the only solution. There wasn’t infinite endings, and the alternative wouldn’t be acceptable. He whispered emptily as his eyes shone with defeat, “Whatever it takes, right?” 

His father echoed in the same manner, “Yeah kid. Whatever it takes.” The elder Stark sighed as he looked onto Vormir’s horizon, realizing what had to be done. 

Peter slowly rose to his feet and leaned against his father’s chest, resisting the burning urge to cry. Peter spoke montonely, “The only way to get the stone is for one of us to jump.” The words immediately felt wrong in his mouth, and left a bitter feeling in his throat, but it was the truth. And the truth, more often than not, hurt. 

Tony squeezed his son as he wrapped his suited arms around him, wishing that fate wouldn’t come down to this, but the truth was spoken. He pressed a kiss to the top of his son’s’ curls and buried his face in it, murmuring,  “Yeah, bud.”

Both Starks turned to the empty abyss of pinks and purples and whispered at the same time, “Whatever it takes.”

Neither Stark wished to let go of the other, especially when this would be the last time the two of them would be with each other, and had tender moments like this. But they couldn’t hold on forever, they might have all the time in the world, but the dusted people didn’t. So Tony, slowly and painfully pulled away from the embrace, but clutched his son’s suited hand like it was a lifeline. 

Peter faced the edge and spoke in a broken tone, “One of us will have to jump. With great power, comes great responsibility.” 

Tony nodded, “Yeah.”

Both Starks braced themselves for a run. Tony waterily quipped, “Pete, I think we’re starting to mean different people here.”

Peter spoke, “Dad, the world needs Iron Man. You figured out time travel, time travel! You’re Earth’s greatest defender, the planet needs you! Spiderman, is just neighbor-hood friendly, you’re the real deal.”

Tony sighed as tears spilled down worn, calloused skin, “Peter, I need Spiderman to live. Peter, you’re my kid, I can’t let you do this. Please, kiddo, it’ll be alright.” Both of them knew it wouldn’t, but Tony had faith that Peter would move on. The elder man had no doubt that Peter would always remember him, and it would be the same vice versa. Parents were supposed to protect their kids, and kids weren’t supposed to be the ones that had to grow up too quickly in an unfair, cruel world. 

Peter shook his head as tears of his own fell silently, “Dad, please. You can’t go. I don’t want to go, but I have to do this. Remember, with great power, comes great responsibility!”

Tony sighed, “Peter, it has to be one of us. And I can’t, and I won’t, let you do this. THis is what I was meant to do.” He sucked in a jagged breath as he stun-blasted Peter, sweeping his kid off his feet, “Stay down kid, please. I love you so, so much, bud, you have no clue. I don’t want to leave you, or Mom, or your sister, but I can’t live with the guilt that my own son, the thing that I am most proud of was the expense of my existence. Tell Pep, Morgan, and yourself that I love them so much, and that I always will.” He turned and started to run but was immediately shot down. 

Peter jut out a fist and a web stopped Tony in his tracks. Peter countered, “Dad, I love you so much. You’re meant to do so much more. Tell them yourself. I need my Dad to live.” It was Peter’s turn to suck in a harsh breath as he launched himself off the cliff and shut his eyes closed. He let them flutter open to find himself dangling off the cliff with his Dad clutching his arm tightly.

Tony couldn’t hold back the tears, that heroic bastard, as one arm gripped the edge while the other was trying to pull his son back up. He didn’t care that he was crying as he shook his desperate to avoid the inevitable. He shifted his weight, trying to find the best angle to throw Peter back up. 

Peter pressed gently, “Let me go. Please, it’s going to be okay Dad. I promise.” 

Tony shook his head fiercely, sending pained and anger-filled tears flying. It wasn’t fair! What kind of cruel world would make him choose between this? One one hand, the hero needed his son to have a father to guide him, mentor him, be a place of solace and comfort to, and occasionally, poke innocent jokes at him. Peter and Morgan deserved to have the best father ever, and Pepper, his sweet, tolerant Pepper deserved a happy life with the man of her dreams. If he was gone, they’d be pained, hurt, and lost. They had one less shoulder to cry on, which to them was their most important, favorite shoulder to cry on. But, what was a world without Peter? A world that wasn’t worth living in. His son, his light of his life? Peter, who was three thousand times the man that he could ever be. The witty, intelligent, and the most pure soul he knew. Peter deserved only the finest in life. Peter, was supposed to make the world a better place. Run Stark Industries. Teach his little sister life lessons, graduate college, and if he wanted, to settle down and have kids. Not to die. Not like this. 

Because then, he’d be burdened with yet another guilt, and this one would be an overwhelming break on his already frail shoulders. 

So, the elder man shook his head for the umpeeth time as he whispered please of protests. He begged tightly, “I love you so much, Peter.”

Chocolate colored irises faced back up at him, sparkling with youth, purity, and defeat. Peter’s thin lips cracked a half-smile, “I love you so much, Dad. This isn’t your fault, I chose this. Promise me, you won’t forget me?”

His father wore a look of stubborness as he weakly argued, “Peter, please.”

Peter’s eyes watered, and for the first time since their arrival and Tony hated the fear that clouded within them. “Dad, please, I need to hear you say it. Please?”

Tony reluctantly nodded. He hated the fear in his son’s eyes, and if this how his son was going to die, then he deserved to hear what he wanted, and not be scared. So, he forced his lips into a watery, yet optimistic smile as he looked into Peter’s inflicted eyes, “I could never forget you. I love you too much. You do know that right?”

Peter nodded as he whispered lightly, “Yeah.” A moment of silence lingered between the two men as the younger nodded tightly, “It’s going to be okay.” With a final grunt and kick, Peter released himself from his Dad’s hold and whispered into the sweeping freefall, “I love you 3000.”

And then came the darkness.  

...

Tony found himself in a pool of goldish-colored liquid, and a stone of the same color in his hand. A wave of anger came over him as he spilled tears into the salty substance. He yelled as he hurled the stone, “I want him back!” No reply. The father scooped up the stone as he whispered brokenly, “Please, at least give me his body back.” No reply. Tony burst into sobs. Tony never cried, because he couldn’t break. Because he was a man who donned iron, and if he broke, if he lost hope, then who’d carry it. He might have trusted Steve again, but a part of him was precautionary, because betrayal came from all four corners, at any angle. Tony had cried before, stray tears rolling down his cheek as frustration shut his mind down numerous times when he was trying to work towards a solution. Water clouded his vision as he looked into his best friend’s unconscious eyes as blood trailed his mocha-rich skin that was severely damaged. Water slipped at the mention of paralysis. But this, Peter, was something that he made. His greatest creation, one that would rise high above the world. Peter wanted to be a hero, not because of sheer guilt, but because he wanted to. So, he let himself sob decades worth of anger.

Then, came a flash of pink that dotted his vision. Tony’s heart dropped as he bent over his unconscious son. His son, his baby who was bright and full of life was a hollowed grey as blood seeped out from his head, and no doubt within the suit. His child looked lost and empty. Soulless. A soul for a soul.

He held his dead son in his trembling arms and pressed his suit, returning back to 2023. When he returned, he was sprawled on the ground. Natasha was the first to notice the faded body of her nephew and spoke softly, “Tony?”

Tony slowly stood up and placed Peter in the medbay (it’s indestructible so he doesn’t get blown up when thanos blows ‘em up). Tony spoke brokenely, “He gave himself up for the stone. It, it was supposed to me.” 

Everyone was silent, sorrowed at the fact that their best was no longer living. Natasha sighed softly, “He was the best out of all of us.”

“Kid? Is that really you? Did I defeat Thanos?”

His Peter smiled warmly, “Yeah Dad. You snapped, getting rid of Thanos. I told you, you were meant for far greater. You did it Dad, now we can rest now.” 

A/N: how many Disney references did you catch? between frozen, descendants, and marvel specifically. I've just noticed that the oneshots that I've posted today end up in Peter dying lmao that's me. How are you guys?

Idk how to describe how I feel. Kinda like drained I guess, I'm just tired and feel kinda gross. Like my skin, like my face, it feels really gross and oily. I don't have a skincare routine ngl cause I honestly don't know much about selfcare and makeup, beauty all that stuff . I'm just tired and it sucks. Like the days after Christmas till new years has me feeling weird