Chapter Text
“See that?” Bruce asked, squinting and then lifting his face up, gliding his chair a little to the left. Tony stepped in and bent down, eyes glaring into the lenses. “It’s a virus,” he heard Bruce say, and he squinted at the minuscule, moving blobs of colour resembling a shrunken down version of some horrid monster.
“Looks violent,” Tony said, blinking at the moving blood cultures and pulling away from the microscope, “what is it?”
“I can’t see it having an impact on his memory, even with the altered DNA. In a few hours I’ll have an idea, but I don’t see him contracting anything too dangerous,” Bruce answered, adjusting the microscope, eyes deeply focused on the plate again.
“Right, so it’s curable,” Tony said impatiently, knowing it wasn’t the best thing to say in situations like this but he really couldn’t help himself, “doesn’t look too bad, you just said it yourself.”
“I don’t know.”
Bruce. Always speaking his mind.
“You don’t know?” He couldn’t help the irritation that came with the question, “what does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know what it—“ he lifted up his head and flinched when he hit Tony’s chin, “—is. Something that can be a cold to you can be nothing to him, but we don’t exactly know why that is - whether it’s just a stronger immune system, or the way his body deals with the virus—I don’t know.”
“So it could be incurable,” Tony said when Bruce finished explaining, “you don’t know how he works, how would you—“
“I didn’t say that—let me work, Tony,” Bruce snapped, looking to his left as Tony pulled away and stood up, “just let me try and get an idea, the last time I did this was nearly seven years ago.”
“Yeah, do your thing,” Tony said, and he decided to leave the room before he could ask anymore questions and be left even more disappointed and paranoid than he already was.
It would take hours, so it was better to move Peter out of a lab in the meantime, at least. So that’s what he did - he left the lab and Bruce and made his way to the other one.
He pushed down the handle and opened the door, immediately noticing the way Peter was huddling up, crossing both his arms against his chest in what seemed to be an attempt at tying to keep himself warm.
The TV was being projected onto the screen in front of him, a distinctly familiar face talking. He stopped at the door and listened.
“—not only the Missing, but all of our fellow Americans who fell victim to the tragedy after their return. I can assure you the Avengers have been interrogated, as were several other super-powered individuals, including Spider-Man, who we will—“
“Friday, turn it off,” Tony ordered, and the TV went out in a flash, prompting Peter to almost fall off his chair as he turned around to face Tony.
Tony shrugged, “he’s an idiot,” he justified.
Peter seemed to want to say something, but that remained a mystery because he never spoke aloud, just nodded his head.
Tony suddenly wasn’t content with moving on from the topic anymore, “have any of them reached out?” He asked, and the way Peter faltered for a second was answer enough — almost made him go mad and start yelling. “I’ll reword before you lie, I know he has,” Tony said, before the next five minutes of the conversation turned into an ‘I don’t know’ squabble.
“I guess. Last month.”
“You guess? What does that mean know you ‘guess’?”
Peter shrugged, “I went to the store to get something, and it was one of his men—they followed me inside. Said I should know I’m a suspect—“ his face crumpled up, “—whatever that means.”
“And?”
Peter looked at him, unsure, “that’s it.”
“Oh. That’s it?,” he said in the most sarcastic way he could, “who else knows? May? She knows?” His eyes narrowed, studying Peter as carefully as he could.
Peter shook his head before he could compel himself to speak, “no, no, just MJ.”
Tony squinted, “MJ. Whose—whose MJ?” He asked, clearly getting more irritable with every answer, wondering in the back of his mind how many other things were going on that he didn’t know about just because he hadn’t asked.
“My friend,” Peter shifted on his seat, “you know, from school.”
His mind blanked for a second, and he frowned again, “right, because she was obviously the right person to tell.”
“I didn’t tell her,” Peter said defensively and quickly, “she figured it out.”
Nice answer to make him feel like an idiot. A highschooler figured it out, and he couldn’t. He rubbed his forehead amidst his escalating panic, “what else? Did he say anything else?”
Peter looked down, then sighed, “I got a letter. I didn’t show May,” he started, “I didn’t understand most of it,” he admitted, remembering back to when he opened it, “but—“
“Red bold letters at the top?” Tony asked, and got a nod in return that made him hold his forehead, press his fingernails in his temple, “Why would you not tell me? Or your Aunt? Happy. There’s Pepper. Even Rhodey. Any of them would’ve done.”
“I don’t know,” Peter said, and Tony was about to continue - give him a list of the bad decisions he’d made, how dangerous his little ‘solo’ act was, how he was just being reckless when he knew he had all this support here and at home, but he didn’t. He took one look at Peter’s guilt-ridden face and decided it wasn’t the time. He looked cold.
“Whats wrong?”
Peter looked up. Was he shivering? It looked like he was shivering. “Nothing.” He said shakily, “it’s just freezing in here.”
Tony decided not to tell him what they’ve found out. Or that it was already twenty-four Celsius in the room. He’ll worry. “Okay, come on, grab your stuff,” he ordered.
Peter nodded, anything to not piss him off more than he already was. And when May found out, she’d be be even more mad, and his heart skipped a beat at the thought. This day was going horribly.
He didn’t understand what happened next. One second he was looking at Tony, and the next, a strange colour filled the room.
Darkness.
And it was so much colder.
The chills up his spine and his senses, which were screaming at no visible danger, sent his mind into a state of panic in seconds.
Tony wasn’t in the room anymore. Where’d he go? He was right here a second ago, he couldn’t have left.
He felt alone. Like he was in another place, far, far from reality. Far from anyone to help or even hear him.
“Reality skewed can make a person crazy.” A voice echoed around the room, and he looked around the empty room, desperate to find the source. “One that exists only in your head must be worse.”
He clenched his jaw, trying to stop himself from shaking and tearing up, “What?”
“Why are you scared?” The voice replies almost immediately, making Peter freeze. “Spending time here is what you need. It’s all you need.”
“Yeah? And where’s here?” Peter asked, trying to keep a confident front even though his eyes suddenly felt tired and dry. Felt red.
“It’s...” the voice trailed off and he could almost recognise that tone. “Well, it’s where you’re trying to run from.”
A chuckle.
It was him.
Standing in front of Peter was Peter. A perfect clone, and it was nothing like staring in a mirror, because in a mirror you saw what was there. This version of him wasn’t anywhere.
Peter blinked, confused as to what he was supposed to be seeing, because it couldn’t be this.
“Why’d it hurt?” His duplicated version asked, and then broke down; began to disintegrate right in front of him.
Peter stumbled back; looked at his own shaking hands in a state of both panic and worry as his face scrunched up. He took a gasp when they started to crumble away, because even though this is exactly what he feared, it wasn’t supposed to happen again.
The feeling was back like it never left. He’d disappear into dust again.
The feeling of life leaving him behind; abandoning him so quickly that he didn’t have time to think. Molecules and parts of him just fading away into nothing. Sending him into nothingness.
There was no time to plan. He’d thought if it happened again, he’d plan and he’d think of something, but he forgot how painful it was.
“No, no, I’m—“
No time to even gather his last thoughts—
“—up! Come on!”
He jerked forwards and nearly fell off the chair he was sitting on when his eyes snapped open.
Tony was standing in front of him; eyes big with worry and concern as he said a bunch of things to him that Peter didn’t quite understand or even hear.
He clawed at his neck and gasped. He was not getting enough air. He needed air, and all of it just seemed to be gone, because no matter how hard he’s trying, the only thing he sees happening is his eyes blurring with unshed tears.
“You’re—you’re okay,” Tony stammered, holding Peter still by the collarbone, “hey, you’re fine, what’s wrong?”
Peter sniffled, and the way he looked up at Tony quite honestly and visibly scared the man, because Tony looked confused and worried, and very scared, a bit like that last time that no one ever spoke about again.
His eyes quickly shifted to his own shaking hands, which he observed carefully as if seeing them for the first time. Like they were about to disappear.
And while Peter hadn’t disappeared into dust, the tears were still very real and there, and he quickly wiped at his face with his arm.
He couldn’t answer the question, because nothing except a strained whisper would come out, and he was still all over the place, looking around the room in a panic.
“Hey, hey,” Tony shook him gently by the shoulder, “just me, see?” He put both hands up in the air, “just me and you in here.”
Peter breathed in relief, the sense of normalcy welcoming him back and steadying him again.
“You saw something,” Tony stated, skipping the questioning part because whatever just happened scared the hell out of him too.
Peter’s face made it seem like he was about to lie, or downplay it, and Tony spoke up before he could.
“Yeah, you did,” he said, brows raised and waiting for an answer, “what was it?”
Peter shook his head, “it’s a—nightmare I’ve had a couple of times.” Couple of times? More like everyday.
“Okay. Areas of concern. A, it’s not night, and b, what were—“Tony purses his lips, “You were looking at something. Like it was here, but it wasn’t.” He asked, eyes squinted in await for an answer, “were you hallucinating?”
Peter looked back at him like he was not making sense, even though he was making all the sense in the world, he was looking at something. But saying ‘I saw a duplicate of myself’ was out of the question. That sounded insane.
“Daydreaming,” he decided to say stupidly.
Tony slammed his hand on the table, “I can’t help if you don’t tell me,” he said, realising he overreacted just a little, and possibly scared Peter.
Peter flinched slightly, and looked away. Everyone was going through the same thing, this isn’t what they should be focusing on. Other people died and came back, he couldn’t be the only one having a few issues settling back in.
“I don’t want to,” Peter said honestly and frustratedly.
Tony shook his head and scoffed, a few seconds after he took in the uncharacteristic outburst, “Peter. It’s one question. I know I don’t look like the most stable person right now but that’s only because all of this—“ he stepped back and extended his arms to gesture to the lab, “—it started with you. Help me help you and all the other people like you and—“
“It was just a nightmare, Mr Stark” Peter interrupted him, closing his eyes and then looking back at Tony, “it’s me, I mean I saw me. I’m telling myself to go back somewhere. Then I crumble away. I just usually have it when I’m sleeping.”
Tony sighed, “you—it wasn’t the same. What happened to you didn’t happen to anyone else, or that we know of.”
“Yes it did.” Peter exclaimed, eyes wide with innocence and anger.
Tony sniffed, “You hear the way they explain it? Calm, collected, at peace, not even realising what was happening. You knew. You knew before it did, because you felt all of it.”
He made Tony feel it too.
Peter didn’t know what to say to that. The pain, which he was so sure was there, existed a long time ago. And since then, news reports and people brushing his story aside had made him feel like his experience didn’t really happen. Maybe it was in his head, because he wasn’t supposed to be hurting, according to everyone else.
May believed him. Tony did too. But everyone else says it’s probably phantom pain. They weren’t the ones who had to go through the excruciating pain of yourself being practically clawed apart. Slowly being eaten away at.
“What’s in the dream?” Tony asked when Peter didn’t say anything to his last statement.
Peter shook his head, “I—“ he stops and takes in a shaky breathy when his voice wobbles. “It happens again. It’s like I’m there again, and I—it hurts. I can feel it, and it seems so real,“ he inhaled. “Dreams don’t hurt.”
Tony moved forwards, started to speak, but Peter was now focused on the cloud of fog that formed every time he breathed. He was not here, because here, it was 27 degrees.
It was darker, even though all the lights were on. It shouldn’t be dark, which meant it was in his head.
“Hey!” A voice echoed, and he followed it to a boy standing in the door frame, worry splashed across his face.
He frowned. That’s—
“Don’t you wanna see Ben? He’s calling for you, I—“
“Peter!”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here,” Peter lied again, rocking in the stool slightly, looking down at his legs.
“You’re not. You’re not here, which is why we are here right now,” he was pretty annoyed by now. They were running around in circles, and Peter was telling him half of what he was asking, looking at who knows what. “What did you see just now?”
It was an innocent, repeated question, with a hint of annoyance, but Peter looked at him with wide, scared eyes, hand reaching the back of his neck again and breathing shakily, “I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening,” he admitted, looking anywhere but Tony.
It was a sudden change. He noticed the scratching and took his arm, pulling it down, “Peter—“
“I’m—I’m going crazy.”
“It’s hallucinations,” Tony tried downplaying suddenly with a shrug, “we all get’em.”
That wasn’t much of an assurance for his protege, who shook his head, “no, normal people don’t just forget three whole days. That’s—that’s—“
“But you know they’re not here, right?”
Peter looked at him incredulously, “yeah,” he said irritatedly, “I know the hallucinations aren’t real.”
“Okay, firstly, take it down a notch and calm down,” Tony said, sighing, “secondly, hop off that thing. We’re going somewhere else.”