Chapter Text
Tony ended up being right. The world was so much worse now. At least, for the people in Tony’s life, who had forgotten just how much Peter had changed the man for the better. With him gone, he was back to his old ways, though now his habits were even more destructive. It was as if he was actively trying to kill himself with the amount of alcohol he consumed, to the point where Pepper was tempted to force him into rehab.
She ended up not being able to do it- commit him to a center, that is. After doing all the necessary research, Pepper came to the realization that pushing him too far would be the end of their relationship. Period, point blank. If he needed to catch a few STDs and have his stomach pumped every other week to cope with the loss of the son, she wasn’t going to stop him.
Things… never evened out, though.
Tony kept the expensive drinks coming, and the one night stands continued to make a mess of the penthouse. It all came to a head a few months after Peter’s death, when a night out led to Tony using the suit while inebriated.
Effective immediately, he was suspended from active Avengers duty, only to be contacted in absolute emergencies. This temporary suspension essentially became permanent, after Tony landed himself in the ICU for the third time in three months. Pepper didn’t bother sitting by his bedside for when he woke up.
She was done. She had coddled the man, cleaned up his messes, done everything she could to help him through his grief- but it was clear as day that he would never get better.
Tony Stark’s bright spirit had died with his son’s, and all that was left was a shell of the man- his body a puppet for the seven deadly sins.
The man’s heart had completely closed off. The only people who came up to the penthouse besides his conquests nowadays were Rhodey or Pepper, and even then it was a rarity. Peter’s bedroom was sealed off, under lock and key, after one woman had decided to try sneaking in when Tony was asleep.
She was lucky to get away with nothing more than a warning and a legal notice.
Tony didn’t even let his maids in the room to vacuum- he did that all by himself, keeping the room as clean as it was the day Peter…
He kept it clean.
The world was so much worse now.
Four years later…
Peter coped with his own death pretty easily. He could enjoy the occasional movie or show on the large TV in the living room, and as well as this, he could still kinda hang out with his dad. It was definitely hard, but obviously, it was harder on Tony. The man was completely gutted.
Peter sighed, watching his dad down the last remnants of a glass of whiskey. Just like every other anniversary of his passing, Tony was drinking (more than he usually did). This year… this year would be different though.
Now, Peter didn’t know much about what he was. Or the science of ghosts, really. What he did know, however, was that practicing moving objects had manifested a reality in which he could move objects. He’d been doing so out of Tony’s sight- at night, mainly, and was now ready to put his strength to the test. With all the force he could muster, he gently lifted up the empty glass, and carried it over to the sink, as Tony watched with wide eyes.
“Hello?” He said. “FRIDAY, detect for life forms.”
No life forms detected, boss.
“Shit. What the fuck.” Peter giggled at his dad’s cursing. He knew he was taller and older now, even in ghost form, but the swearing was still funny. Tony paused, face going white.
“Did… did someone laugh?” Peter giggled again. His expression dropped, from trepidation into-
“Whoever the fuck is using a recording of my dead son’s laughter for this prank, it’s not fucking funny!” Peter sobered up real quick after that, going silent. Tony… his dad remembered his laughter? And could identify it just based on its sound?
“Dad, I’m here!” He shouted, though apparently only his giggles registered to Tony, as evidenced by the non-reaction. Deciding on his best course of action, he grabbed a bottle of yellow, squeezable mustard from the fridge. He carried it back over, a terrified Tony watching it float across the living room. With all his energy, he exerted force on the bottle, until a light stream started coming out.
I L O V E U - P
He spelled, before setting the bottle back down on the table he’d written on. By now, Tony had started crying.
“Call Dr. Strange.” He said to his AI, hit by the largest onslaught of emotions since Peter’s funeral. “Now!”
Dr. Strange and the other Avengers converged around the table, Steve taking a deep breath upon realizing what was written.
“Okay, uh. Wow.” Clint said, stroking his chin. Bruce looked troubled. Rhodey was close to tears, along with Pepper.
“Dr. Strange, please, what the fuck is this? Is it some kind of sick prank?” Dr. Strange bit his lower lip.
“Sometimes… the spirit world works mysteriously. I can try to locate your son. Please, let me see if I can do so.” Pepper let out a sob. Suddenly, the wind picked up just slightly, and Dr. Strange looked directly at Peter. Peter rushed forward.
“Can you see me?” He yelled, as the man approached.
“Yes, yes I can.” He said, sounding slightly confused. “I have a question for you, Peter.”
“Go ahead!” He cheered, just happy to have human interaction after four years of forced solitary living.
“Are you enhanced?” Peter stopped. Tilted his head.
“Would that… would that matter?” Dr. Strange gave him a look.
“Can you please answer the question?”
“Oh, uh. Yes, actually? I had super strength and lots of other cool stuff!” With that, Dr. Strange exited the realm of existence Peter was on, unable to hear Peter once more.
“Your son was enhanced.” He told Tony, in that deadpan voice of his. “He’s a spirit- but a strong spirit, at that. Able to move objects, though it obviously took him some time to figure out how.” Tony paused to think for a moment, red-faced and watery-eyed.
“...Can- can you help him?” Dr. Strange sighed.
“I cannot promise you anything. But I will make an attempt-” That was the tipping point for Tony, who let out a long moan. Taking in a shuddering breath, all he next said was-
“Please.”
Dr. Strange had been working magic for thirty minutes, the Avengers and company watching from the large couch as he did so. Peter was sat on the loveseat opposite, watching everything go down. Suddenly, he felt his stomach drop, a feeling he hadn’t known since he was living.
“Dad?” He said, confused. “Dad, help me!”
“I can hear him!” His dad shouted, racing over to the loveseat. “It was coming from here!” It felt like his whole body was being squeezed, and then his blood was pumping, his body rebooting,
“Dad!” He yelled, as he fell into Tony’s arms.
“My baby, oh bambino!” He wailed, grasping Peter in his arms as the boy materialized. “My baby!” Pepper and Rhodey rushed over, the Avengers and Dr. Strange giving the group of four some space.
“If that’s all…” Dr. Strange said, before Tony raced over and wrapped him in a hug.
“You brought back my boy.” He whispered to Strange, grateful beyond grateful. Strange gently pushed him away, before leaving through the window. He turned to Peter. “Alright, buddy. We have a lot to catch up on.”