I was unsatisfied with the last 'Human Shield' one. Here's a rewrite with an entirely different plot but the same prompt. And a whole lot of new stuff so it's basically a new one shot.

Not only physical pain, but we're also getting some immense guilt and shit, regarding Peter's thoughts on his relationship with Tony.

For the first time ever, this one shot also features the one and only

Morgan Stark!!!

*insert air horns here*

Update: f u c k

you guys i have like so many prompts i want to write and like i don't have enough timeeee

Ice cream.

Peter only wanted to get some ice cream with his kind-of-not-really-little-sister-but-she-called-him-her-brother-and-he-wasn't-complaining.

"I want mint chocolate chip!" Morgan squealed, running up to the glass case in excitement. Peter laughed and pulled out some money from his pocket - what he had found on the road a few days ago.

To be honest, Peter's financial position was struggling quite a lot. Peter wouldn't tell Tony, ever. Not many people wanted a 16-year-old to work for them, especially with jobs in such high demand after the Snap.

I refuse to refer to it as the Blip.

The man working behind the bar smiled at the girl's antics.

"One scoop of mint chocolate chip on a cone, please," Peter told him, grinning. The worker obliged immediately, taking a large amount of ice cream and putting it into a waffle cone.

"And for you?" He inquired.

Peter flushed. The money he had found wasn't enough for both of them.

"I'm not getting anything, thank you though!" He said hastily, smiling brightly.

Morgan gave him a confused look. "But you love this ice cream, Petey! That's why you brought me here? Who doesn't like ice cream?" She asked. "I'm not hungry, Morguna," Peter teased, poking her in the stomach, causing the little girl to break down into giggles.

Peter quickly handed over the money, and the ice cream man passed him the cone.

Or, he tried.

The cone fell to the ground with a small splat.

Peter's hand was frozen, trembling, in midair. The man apologized immediately, but he wasn't listening.

Spidey Senses.

"Morgan, I need you to get underneath the table. Don't come out, okay?" Peter said, bustling the small girl over to a booth, much to the confusion of the seven-or-so other customers.

Morgan must have seen the urgency in his eyes, because she nodded meekly and huddled backward into the shadows.

"Sir, what's going on?" The ice cream man asked, confused and wary.

"Something's happening. We need to hide or get out of here. Fast," Peter instructed, looking for a place to take all the civilians.

Too late.

The little bells on the door sounded as about twelve people ran in, brandishing guns.

Chaos ensued around the small shop, with only one woman in her right mind enough to call the police until the first man spoke.

"Put the phone down," He said, pointing the gun at her.

Fear in the woman's eyes, she laid the phone on the table and hung up. The leader's attention swiveled to Peter.

"Where is she?" He asked, staring at Peter.

"Where is who?" Peter inquired, attempting to act innocent. "Stark's kid. You know the one."

Peter made a show of looking around the restaurant. "I don't see her, nor do I know why you'd think she'd be with me," He bluffed, praying that none of the fellow ice-cream buyers would rat him out.

A woman at the front of the crowd scoffed. "Please. We saw you come in here with her," She pointed out.

Shit.

"What do you want from her, anyways?" Peter asked defensively. "We want her dead," The woman answered flatly.

Peter kept his eyes trained on her, careful not to let his gaze flick to the booth Morgan was hiding in.

"Why would you want that?"

Keep them talking, Peter.

"Stark acts without thinking how his actions affect the normal people. This is simply... a lesson," She said. "That's one hell of a fucked up lesson," Peter retorted.

Instantly, twelve guns were trained on Peter's head.

"If you don't help, we'll get rid of you," The first man said. "Oooh, ominous," Peter replied, smirking. "What could be more cliché?"

The woman scowled. "Are you seriously going to get in our way?" She queried in disbelief.

"Yep," Peter confirmed.

All of the other customers were watching the interaction in a shocked silence.

Peter's heart was racing.

Tony would never forgive him if Morgan was hurt.

Morgan was his daughter, for fuck's sake. But Peter...

Peter was expendable.

Peter could die and not affect anything.

Sure, Tony may be upset for a little bit, but everything would resolve itself quickly.

Morgan, on the other hand, was special. Tony would be destroyed if she was hurt in the way Peter was sometimes on patrol - of course, when it was bad, he didn't tell the older man.

Peter inhaled shakily as his Spidey Senses went off, and he had to force himself not to move in order to protect his identity.

A bullet went right into his leg, but Peter refused to scream. Instead, he felt his pulse jump as pain ripped through him, centralized at the wound.

The woman leered. "Care to tell us where she is yet?"

Peter was about to spit at her when a small voice echoed from the corner.

"Don't hurt Petey!" Morgan yelled in a tiny voice, face the picture of uncomprehending anger.

"Morguna, no!" Peter called. He could hear the sirens only a mile or so away. The police would be here any minute.

The woman's eyes lit up as they landed on Morgan crawling out from under the table.

"It looks like we don't need you after all," She whispered, voice sickly-sweet.

Peter knew what was going to happen before it did. He quickly pressed a button on his watch, secretly telling Karen to send the message he had prepared since the Snap.

The gun was raised, and time seemed to slow down.

3.

Peter folded his uninjured leg beneath him and braced himself to jump. Like he had said. Peter Parker was expendable. Morgan Stark was not.

2.

Peter lunged across the room, positioning himself to angle into the path of the bullet and protect her at all costs. Police were about to open the door.

1.

He made it, tumbling in front of the small girl and into the gunshot's path. A glimpse of Morgan's terrified face as the sirens grew to a wail in the background.

0.

Tony's POV

Tony ran into the area that was swarming with police officers, heart racing.

Did they get away? Could they have run in time?

People - about twelve of them - were being loaded into various patrol cars.

Tony scanned the area for any sign of his kids.

"Morgan?" He yelled, pushing his way through a crowd of people. "Peter?"

"Daddy!" Morgan wailed, blocked from his vision by the fray.

She's safe. They're safe.

Slowly calming down, Tony shoved his way to the front of the group to see Morgan sitting just outside the ice cream shop.

Rushing to her side, Tony thanked anything and everything that she was safe.

"Morguna, god, I thought I lost you," Tony breathed, pulling her into a hug.

Incessantly, beneath his skin, beat another question.

And that's when Tony realized what was wrong about the picture.

"Honey? Where's Peter?" Tony asked, heart racing.

Murmurs raced through the crowd - 'he protected her,' one woman was saying; 'he saved her life,' a man was adding, shocked.

No. Please, no.

"Petey- he-" Morgan hiccuped before breaking down into unintelligible sobs. Tony grabbed the nearest person. "Keep an eye on her," He instructed a man wearing an ice cream uniform. The man nodded quickly and shifted slightly into a protective stance.

"Let me through!" Tony yelled, trying to make his way over to the ambulance.

Please. Please. Not again.

Doctors were crowded around a makeshift bed. The person lying on it was hidden from Tony's view, but clouds of red were staining the sheets all around them.

Tony ran up to the group as they were discussing. "He needs transfusions! Does anyone know his blood type?"

A doctor noticed Tony and moved out of the way.

No. What the fuck happened?

Tony managed to stammer out a somewhat-persuasive-seeming sentence: "I'll take care of him from here."

He texted Natasha quickly: I need you here. You have one minute.

Attached the location, sent.

Within thirty seconds, Natasha was there with Clint.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit," She was repeating as she helped move Peter into her car.

Clint looked like he was having a mental breakdown.

Tony ran to collect Morgan from Ice Cream Man and they all got into Natasha's car, Tony the only one in the back with Peter, holding the boy's hand.

His mind was flying everywhere.

Tony was trying not to think of the paleness of Peter's face, the way that it could only happen due to lack of blood.

Trying not to think about the thick wad of bandages keeping his kid alive, but getting rapidly soaked in red.

Trying not to think about the silence in the car, only occasionally ruptured by Morgan's broken sobs.

Peter's hand tightened around his, and then started weakly tapping him.

Morse code.

I-M-S-O-R-R-Y-I-D-I-D-N-T-D-O-B-E-T-T-E-R.

Tony turned to face the boy, reeling, but he seemed to have slipped back into unconsciousness.

----------

Life support machines were everywhere.

"Shattered ribs, resulting in a pneumothorax. Evident hemothorax. The bullet grazed his spinal cord..." Helen paused from listing off the injuries.

Translation: shattered ribs = punctured lung. He's also bleeding like a lotttt.

"How did he get shot?" Tony asked flatly, hardly paying attention.

Bruce swallowed. "I'm not sure you really want to know that."

Tony slammed his hand against a table. Sparks of pain shot up from his wrist but he ignored it. "I need to know what's going on."

Helen and Bruce traded looks.

"We checked the security cameras. The attackers were there for... well, for Morgan. To kill her. Peter jumped in front of it, just in time."

Stupid fucking kid.

Tony wanted to throw something across the room. Yes, he was obviously glad that Morgan was safe, but if Peter didn't wake up...

Bruce and Helen left the room, and FRIDAY came active.

"Boss, you have one message," She said gently. Tony scoffed. "Ignore it. I have clearly more pressing things to do."

There was a pause.

"It's from Peter."

Tony froze. How was that possible? Peter had been unconscious for the past hours.

"Play it."

Peter was projected from a hologram in the wall, anxiously rubbing his hands together.

"Hey, Mr. Stark. If you're playing this... I'm either dead or close. Or, you know, you found it on my watch, and as you clearly know, I'm not great at hiding stuff from you."

Hologram-Peter laughed awkwardly.

"At, uh, at any rate, whatever happened here: if I decided to send this, I knew what I was doing, Mr. Stark. And if it ended up leaving me here... I can't exactly say 'here', really, because I don't know what's going on over at your end at the moment. But if whatever I decided to do that put me in whatever position I'm likely in with you... it wasn't your fault. This is because I understood the risks."

Tony laughed bitterly. "Clearly you need to learn. They came there to get revenge on me. And they took it out on you."

Hologram-Peter hesitated, before a hint of a smile passed over his face.

"I was giving you some time to say whatever you needed to about me being wrong about the fault of the issue. I know your guilt complex, Mr. Stark. I'm not stupid. At any rate, you are wrong. Whatever happened, it wasn't because of you. Know how I know that? Because I know you. And you would never hurt me. And, uh, I'm sorry. Because you must be feeling really shitty right now. I really hope you never have to watch this, but if it does come to pass again, I have to make sure you hear this. Don't blame yourself, okay?"

Hologram-Peter stood up from where he was sitting against the wall.

"And, Mr. Stark?"

Tony looked attentively at the hologram.

"I love you."

And then it winked out.

Tony broke into a sob. "I love you too, kid."

They had never said that to each other before.

Either too shy or too scared.

...

Too late.

----------

The heart monitor was incessantly beeping as Tony glared at it.

Peter had been out for a week now, and hadn't shown signs of waking up.

Morgan had visited Peter several times, thanking him for saving her.

If only he was awake to hear it.

The wounds had mostly been healed through, but something was stopping him from waking up. Evidently, when the bullet damaged his spinal cord, it had screwed up Peter's body.

"Boss, you have one new message from Peter," FRIDAY said urgently.

Tony's head shot up. "Again? How?"

Could Peter be doing better? Was he awake? Just for a bit?

"After a week of inactivity since sending the first message, Karen sent the message at Peter's request for the situation."

FRIDAY started playing it.

"Hey, Mr. Stark! If you're hearing this, you've heard the other message. I assume. I don't - uh, I don't actually know. You may have had more important things to do."

Tony felt his eyes sting. Peter thought Tony could have had more important things to do than try to help Peter and save his life. What could be "more important" than his last message? Did he think Tony would just leave him to die?

"Oh! Uh, forget I said that. Um. So if this is working right, I'm probably dead. Or, you know, comatose or something. Like I said in the last message, I don't really know. At any rate, um, I just need to say one last thing." Peter laughed, a bit nervously. "I keep telling myself I shouldn't make anymore, but uh. I'm not sure how long that's going to last. But if there's one thing I need to be able to say, it's that whatever happened? It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything to change it because it's already happened. So... be happy? Please?"

Tony paused, sighing.

"How am I supposed to be happy when you're so far away?"

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks into months.

And as the leaves turned to vivid colors reflecting autumn, nothing seemed to have changed.

The outlook, Helen had said, was not very good. 

Morgan wanted her brother back.

---------

Tony was doing his daily visit to Peter's quarters, holding the boy's cool hand between his. 

Talking about what had happened recently. 

"Morguna is starting elementary school. Her first day is soon. She wants you to be there," Tony said quietly. 

Silence.

"I miss you, kid," Tony admitted. "It's too quiet around here, even with Morgan."

Then Peter's hand tightened around Tony's.

"Pete?" He asked hopefully, signalling for a doctor. 

The boy's eyelashes fluttered, and Tony quickly told FRIDAY to shut off the lights. One eye cracked open, and then the other, and they landed on him.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter checked hoarsely, glancing around the room.

Tony let out a choked sob. "You are never, ever allowed to call me that again."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"  

"You're my fucking kid, okay? And so help me, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will beat your ass into next year," Tony managed, trying not to cry.

Peter's mouth twitched into a slight smile. "I... okay?" He replied, a bit confused. 

"Seven. Months. You're grounded."

Peter's response was lost among the crowd of people rushing over to help him.

Tony was brought out of the room, much to his displeasure. He was pretty sure a doctor there would have a hell of a bruise from taking a punch straight to the face.

----------

When he was allowed back in, Peter was frowning, propped up on the bed.

"I can't move my legs," He told Tony in frustration. "They say it'll be a few weeks because the bullet grazed my spine and something about the nervous system and reactions or whatever. I wasn't really paying attention."

Tony let out a relieved sigh. "Trust me kid, I'd be more than willing to help you out."

Peter's face suddenly turned regretful. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I should've done more," He whispered guiltily.

"Like what?" Tony demanded, anger - at himself, not Peter - rising inside of him. "You did everything perfectly apart from the fact that you got hurt? And guess what? You did the best you could! And I'm really damn proud of you!" He yelled.

Peter pulled a face comparable to a bewildered puppy.

"Mr. Stark, you're yelling nice things about me again and it's really confusing."

Tony couldn't keep up the stern demeanor, and instead broke down into sobbing as he moved in to hug Peter. The boy hesitated before doing his best to hug Tony lightly.

"You're not allowed to get hurt. You're not allowed -" He hesitated. "You're not allowed to leave me again."

Peter smiled softly.

"I won't. I swear. I'll always stay."

Mostly just filler. I rushed through parts of it to get content up haha

 Kinda short as I work on a chapter I call "Adoption". 

It's really, really, really not cliche actually and almost definitely not what you think.

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this!

:D