This one-shot contains spoilers from Infinity War.

Seconds

Tony Stark was still reeling from the feel of a blade piercing through his mid-section and of Thanos' taunt – I hope they remember you. He was still reeling from Stephen Strange choosing to trade his life for the time stone he had sworn to protect.

He was still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

"Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good."

At the sound of the voice – small, uncertain, fearful – Tony turned. His face paled considerably. He had just seconds ago seen Quill turned to ashes. He had seen the same thing happened to Strange, and he knew what was about to happen to the kid.

"You're alright," he lied.

He wanted to believe it too, desperately.

Tony stepped forward, in a shock, to assess the kid. He was still intact. Good, he thought, clawing at whatever hope he still had that the kid would be spared. Except… This was Peter Parker. His heightened senses must have alerted him to the fact that something was not right.

Peter stumbled unsteadily, as if his legs could no longer support him and collapsed in Tony's arms. He winced from the blinding pain that shot up his upper body.

No, no, the thoughts raced wildly in his mind. Not this kid.

"I don't want to go. I don't want to go, Mr. Stark, please," Peter sob and pleaded, clutching on to him like he was a lifeline. "Please, I don't want to go."

Tony fell on his knees, the kid still held tight in his arms. The pain was too much. The ache in his heart from Peter's desperate pleas was almost enough to mask the sharp throb from the stab wound.

He wanted to say something – that he was proud of him, that he was sorry, that he would fix this and get him home – but the words were stuck. He should have never encouraged the kid. He should have never initiated him into the Avengers; should have never allowed him to stay on the space ship; should have sent him back to New York with his aunt.

Peter looked at him then, a final glance. His gaze was quiet and soft and calm, as if he could sense the turmoil in Tony's mind and was doing his best to not add to the panic. Even at his last moments, the kid was still trying to please him.

Half of Peter's arm was already gone and there was nothing Tony could do to stop it or slow it down.

He should have stayed on the bus.

The sense of helplessness was overbearing. He had sworn in that cave, a lifetime ago, that he would never allow himself to feel this way ever again. The reality, however, was difficult to swallow. They had lost. Thanos' victory had extracted a terrible cost from them. It was costing him Peter – the kid whom he spent nights designing suits for just to ensure that whatever heroic things Peter wanted to get up to in his little neighbourhood, he would be safe doing it.

"Sir," Peter whispered.

None of that mattered now. No suit Tony Stark designed could stop this from happening. Peter was disintegrating into nothing but ashes.

Not him, Tony wanted to scream, touching Peter's chest only to connect with the boulder underneath it.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, unable to believe that just seconds ago he could touch and hold Peter. Just seconds ago, the boy was solid and alive.

"He did it," Nebula said behind him.

Throughout his life, Tony had seen countless things that should have shocked him but nothing quite like this. Peter was a pain in his ass but there was something about that kid… He had crawled under his skin and found a way into his heart just as Pepper had done.

Tony sat, defeated, his palms clasped together.

He never told Pepper any of it but the dreams he had about having a kid did not just happen once. It had happened ever since Peter.

He was responsible for that kid and he was gone, and for the first time since his parents' death, Tony Stark felt lost.