hehe, have this (nobody ask for it i just thought of it)

When Tony had woken up that morning, he hadn't expected anything more than mundane. Most large scale criminals were either in hiding or in prison, and there hadn't been a threat that required Iron Man for the better part of a year. (He didn't count the Vulture, didn't like the reminder of how he'd messed up with the kid.)

And for the most part, he thought he'd managed to slip by with a pretty bland and boring day. But then he got the alert at almost five in the morning.

And he would forever torment himself about not being fast enough. "Boss." FRIDAY had interrupted his music, clear panic in her voice.

"What is it, FRI?" The billionaire demanded, already standing, his brows furrowing in concern.

"It seems something is wrong with Mr. Parker's suit. I've gotten an old, choppy signal from it. From what I can tell, he's injured." The AI explained, and Tony felt terror coil in his chest.

"Where is he?" He demanded, already rushing toward his suit.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Boss. His tracker gas been removed." She replied from inside the suit now, as he was already shooting out of the tower.

"That damn kid! Check the Baby Monitor feed, find him!" Tony exclaimed, eyes darting all over the city below him, searching for the kid.

"I'm sorry, Boss. I think Mr. Parker's suit was damaged, I can't access the feed." She responded, complete and utter sadness in her voice.

"Fuck!" He growled, eying his own fluctuating heartbeat. (He was not panicking.)

"Traffic cams, any camera in the city, I don't care how illegal it is. Find him!"

He took her silence as her searching, and boosted his speed, just looking. "Spider-Man!" He yelled, the armor's speakers making the words echo over the streets below him.

Where the hell was his kid? "FRIDAY." He hissed.

"I'm looking, Boss." She replied instantly, and Tony didn't think he'd ever heard the pure fear in her voice before.

Each minute, his panic increased, clenching at his lungs so tight he could barely breathe.

By the time around fifteen minutes had passed, FRIDAY finally spoke again, and Tony was still aimlessly flying over the city.

"I think I've found him! He's in the alley four blocks east of his school!" She seemed incredibly relieved to have finally found him, and Tony didn't bother responding, turning around and putting all the power he could into the thrusters.

It had been a long time since the signal was sent and Tony could feel that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"How long?" He gasped.

"Two minutes, Boss." FRIDAY responded, and Tony pushed himself faster.

The kid had to be hurt bad since he hadn't moved from the same spot in a few hours at least.

And finally, Tony found himself landing down in the alleyway his AI had told him about.

"Peter?" He called, and it took him only a split second to spot the red and blue figure on the ground, stepping out of his suit and darting over.

"Holy shit." There was blood. So much blood. Too much blood.

"Kid." He gasped, dropping by his side. And that's when Tony Stark's world broke apart at his feet.

Peter's eyes were glassy and focused, but not moving. They were staring up at the lightening sky, not a star in sight.

"P-Peter?"

His chest wasn't rising. "N-no. Peter. Kid! Wake up!" The billionaire's hands shook at the boy's shoulders, gasping at how cold he was.

"No." Tony's voice broke, "No. Pete, Kiddo, it's time to get up. Come on." Salty tears escaped his eyes, dripping down his cheeks, but he didn't notice, didn't care.

He half expected the boy to sit up and crack smile, say "You really fell for that? Ha!"

(He didn't.)

Tony fell back, hands trembling and breathing unsteady. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Peter was supposed to live. Way longer than him.

"Tesoro, come on." He whispered, shakily brushing his kid's curls from his eyes.

There were dried tear tracks on his face, and the fact that he'd suffered made a horrible, choking sob to escape Tony.

"Peter." The man gathers the unmoving vigilante into his arms, shuddering with sobs as he felt Peter's clammy skin against his neck.

Even with his blurry vision, he could see those familiar doe-eyes, staring up at nothing.

A cry tore from Tony's throat, and he closed the kid's eyes. "I'm so sorry. God, Kid, I'm so sorry." He whispered, choking on his words.

Closing his eyes, he struggled to steady his breathing, but somehow finally managed to get some semblance of a breath.

"FRIDAY, get Happy. Have him bring a car." He called brokenly.

The suit nodded and Tony turned his attention back to the motionless boy in his arms. He could've carried him back in the suit, but the thought of putting his kid back on the bloody, grimy ground, even for a second, made his skin crawl.

For a moment, he felt as though vomit was beginning to crawl up his throat, so he swallowed it down.

He couldn't puke, not now. He didn't deserve to get sick over this. He was the one that was too late. He should've gotten here faster.

He should have known.

But he hadn't known. He didn't know. And because of that, his hands were stained red (would be forever) with the blood of his kid, his child.

When Happy got there, Tony carried his son's lifeless body out of that alley, leaving behind whatever semblance of a heart he'd had.