Chapter Text
“Thanks for coming over, guys. I-I, I messed up. I messed up big time and I really owe it to you.”
“You were an asshole,” MJ stated.
“MJ!” Ned scolded.
“What? He knows it. We know it.”
“Which means we didn’t have to say it,” Ned whispered through gritted teeth.
“I… I was out of line,” Peter admitted. “I was just, I was so angry and I was so afraid that if I let you guys in then maybe you’d…” he couldn’t finish.
“Peter, you don’t cause bad things to happen,” Ned said.
“But don’t I? First my parents and then Ben and then May and then Abby and now Harley it’s like, it’s like whenever I get close with someone, something horrible happens. And I’ve just been thinking like if I don’t let anyone get close to me, then nothing bad will happen.”
“I’ve known you for years and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”
“The elevator at DC?”
“You saved me!”
“I shouldn’t have had to!”
“Peter,” MJ interrupted. “You’re being irrational.”
“You’re right. I am."
"But, also, you're not the only one to blame here," MJ said. "We've been assholes too. You've been going through shit and we gave up on you too soon. We should've stuck around. Bothered you until you opened up. You needed us and we left. So, we're sorry."
"Yeah, dude. We're really sorry," Ned added. "You deserve better, especially after everything that you've gone through."
"Well, I should’ve come to you guys sooner. I just… I had to find the right time. Abby is at her new friend’s birthday slumber party and I just… I needed to talk to you guys without her here,” Peter admitted. "But I... I accept your apology. And I really appreciate that."
“Well it’s better late than never,” MJ said. She wandered around the apartment, scanning the clutter. “ Story of Warden El ? When did you read this?”
“I didn’t. I think it’s… it’s Harley’s,” Peter said, choking up on the mention of Harley.
“Right. Sorry.” Realizing she needed to change the subject, she picked up the book. “It was a good read, I guess. It was about enlightenment and freeing yourself from the subconscious mind. Not really the best page turner but that’s to be expected from a no name like Olga Holland.”
“Oglaholland?” Ned asked.
“No, Olga Holland,” MJ responded.
Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. “Wait, who’s Oglaholland?”
“Not who. What. It’s this crazy abandoned underground Iyezbeckastanian asylum from like the 1600s.”
“I know everything about that place,” MJ said. “I’ve read all about it. They shut it down because their torture weapons were too inhumane even for their time period.”
“We haven’t looked there,” Peter mumbled under his breath. “Where is it?” he asked at full voice.
“It’s in the middle of the Arctic Ocean off the coast of Iyezbeckestan,” MJ responded.
“He’s there. He has to be there. We haven’t looked there,” Peter rambled.
“What are you talking about?” Ned questioned.
“Harley! We haven’t looked there. He must… he’s got to… he has to be there.”
“Peter, when is the last time you slept?” Ned asked, now concerned.
Peter went to grab his phone. “I have to… I have to tell Mr. Stark. We have to go now. We have to look there.”
“You need to get some sleep, dude. We can go…”
“No!" he snapped. “I have to go. Now.”
“Peter,” MJ said firmly. “We know you miss him, but you can’t just go to the middle of nowhere on a hunch…”
“It’s not just a hunch. I know he’s there,” Peter insisted, throwing off his shirt.
“You’re freaking us out a little, dude. You know we’re here for you but you’re…”
“No, if you were here for me you’d be supporting me right now. He’s there and I know it. I have to go.” He equipped his suit and stormed out of the apartment, leaving the window open behind him.
Peter was on a rampage as he swung to the tower. His mission was clear, and he didn’t have time to waste. He ran over the words in his head of what he would say, the lines that he’d have to perform to make Mr. Stark listen, but his improvisation skills were never his strongest suit.
Before he knew it, he had arrived at the tower and was climbing to his usual entrance, a cold sweat soaking forehead. He rushed to Tony’s lab who was hunched over a magenta metal.
“Mr. Stark. I think I know where he is.”
Tony dropped his tools and looked up. “You what?”
“We we we haven’t looked in Iyezebeckestan.”
“No, we have.”
“No, we haven’t,” Peter pushed. “Because we said that’s where he’s supposed to be but we never actually went there.”
“So, what? You think he’s in a third world country, being held hostage by the locals?”
“No,” Peter said firmly. “I think he’s in Oglaholland.”
“Oglaholland is buried underwater and has been for centuries.”
“Which is more the reason why he’d be there! No one would look there.”
“Which is why we aren’t looking there.”
“Mr. Stark, I know he’s there,” Peter insisted. “I just, I have this feeling and you know how I am with my feelings and I and I and I just I just…”
“No!” Tony shouted. He took a breath. “The answer is no, Peter. We can’t just drop everything and swim to buttfuck nowhere because you get a little tingly feeling that he’s there.”
“You can’t just rule it out. Can’t you can’t you can’t you send a suit or something?”
“I’ve had suits scanning the entire world, and the UN is pretty pissed at me for it. Said I was causing mass hysteria and I’m not allowed to send any more.”
“So, what? We’re just gonna give up?”
“Peter. I said no. Drop it.”
Peter clenched his fists and left the room, slamming the door behind him. “I’ve gotta I’ve gotta I’ve gotta do something. I have to find him. I have to find him.” He rushed to his personal lab and began running schematics.
“FRIDAY, give me the blueprints to Iron Man suits, Mark L to present.”
“Why do you need these?” FRIDAY asked.
“I’m just upgrading my suit and need some inspiration.”
“Would you like me to direct the boss to your lab to assist?”
“No! No. I don’t need him.”
“ As you wish .”
He scrolled through the holograms frantically. “Repulsors, repulsors, repulsors. How do you work? How can I implement you?”
Like a mad scientist, Peter’s fingers typed rapidly, equations and commands flying through the system as he rapidly reinvented his suit. He didn’t know how much time had passed but it was too much. Too much time. Too long. Too long had Harley been gone. Too long had he almost lost hope. Too long did it take for him to find him. But he’s gonna get him. He’s gonna get him.
And then he was flying. He was in the air in a way he had never been before. There wasn’t the reliable safety of his webs to catch him. There was nothing connecting him to his destination, just air propelling him.
With Karen as his GPS, and his mind screaming static, he was off. He programmed the repulsors to move without him, a planned route. Though he couldn’t imagine falling asleep when he was going to find Harley, he found his body tired and crashing after the adrenaline high, drifting away as his suit took him to the Arctic Ocean.
.-~*~-.
The freezing temperatures of being plunged into the Arctic Ocean would shock anyone awake, and luckily, while wearing the Iron Spider suit, he was impervious to water.
He jolted out of his slumber, hyper-aware of his current situation, the realization that he was extremely under-prepared dawning on him. In this moment, he was the kid on Homecoming night, praying that Mr. Stark would save him. But he wasn’t. He didn’t believe him and he wasn’t coming.
Peter caught sight of the tunnel leading to the entrance, the draining water pulling him in.
Being underprepared seemed to matter less and less as he got closer to the entrance, his adrenaline pumping and making him realize even with a plan he’d do things more on instinct.
500 feet. 400 feet. 300 feet. Guns started firing; he felt the vibrations in his hastily thrown together armor. 200 feet. He shot out waterproof webs and shot himself to the platform.
He didn’t have time for a one liner, he’s gotta get him.
He didn’t have time to play nice, he’s gotta get him.
He didn’t have time to check if they were okay, he’s gotta get them.
Keep moving, keep fighting, keep going. He’s waiting for him.
Next corridor, next room, he’s not in this one so it doesn’t matter. Next sublevel, next stairwell. Where is he?
Examination room. Camera room. Security room. Basement .
He burst into the grey concrete room with a flickering light bulb that illuminated Harley’s ghastly form. His face was cut up and his clothes were all torn up and bloody. He looked skinnier. Paler.
But what really got him were the eyes. Those once cheerful, mischievous blue eyes. The eyes that held so much love for his sister and laughter for his friends. They were now looking up at him in a dull and lifeless grey. Devoid of hope. The glaze that came with seeing too much. The glaze Peter had known so well.
“You… came...?”
Peter almost broke at the hoarse whisper. Yeah he came but...
He was too late. Too late to stop whatever he had gone through. Too late after spending weeks of mindless nonsense, trying to cope with a world without him when he was still out there. Too late to give him back the time he missed.
“I missed you,” Harley croaked out, a grateful smile on his face.
How could he look at him like that when he failed him? Failed him for so long? For not figuring it out. For not finding him.
He disarmed his mask. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Harley asked, so genuine and sweet. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“I’m too late. I’m so late,” Peter said, a sob ripping through his throat. “But you’re alive. You’re here.”
“And you’re here,” Harley parroted. “I missed you.”
“I missed you. I missed you so damn much and I… I never stopped missing you and I… I love you. I love you so so so much and I know it’s probably too late to say it but I love you. I love you and I have loved you and if you let me, I won’t stop loving you.”
With all the strength Harley could muster, he pulled Peter down by the neck and gently kissed him. His lip was busted and cracked beyond repair, but it was him. It was Harley. Peter savored in the moment, the feeling of Harley in his arms. God, he was so thin. Too thin.
Harley held onto Peter like his life depended on it. It did. His life depended on it. He wasn’t sure if it was real or just another one of his mind’s tricks, and if it was a trick, then it was a very kind one, and if it wasn’t, then he could let go and be happy.
“I love you,” Harley said gently.
“I love you, too. I love you. I love you. ” He looked at the chain on Harley’s wrists, and his stomach lurched, anger bubbling. He took it in his hands and crushed it, grabbing the band that was trapping his hand, and pulling it into two pieces.
Harley unthinkingly shuddered, retracting back, associating the lack of weight on his arm to being taken for this daily dose of... He grabbed Peter and wrapped his arms around his waist, clutching to his side. “Please tell me we’re going home.”
“We’re gonna go home. We just gotta...” Oh. He didn’t think this far. Harley couldn’t fly hours without a suit. He would freeze. And he couldn’t even leave this hellhole without drowning on the way up to the surface. What was he going to do?
As if on cue, a familiar clunk came from behind.
“You’re okay,” Tony said, misty eyed.
“Hey, old man. Took you long enough,” Harley attempted to joke.
Tony retracted the suit and ran to Harley, hugging him. “I’m sorry it took us so long.”
“Please. I just want to get home,” Harley replied, almost pleading.
“Well I brought something for you.” He secured a watch over his bony wrist. “Press your thumb to the face.”
Harley did so, his hands shaky. Suddenly, a magenta suit flew into the room, opening. “Is this…”
“What I’ve been making you work on for the last few months? Yes. I was planning to give it to you on Christmas but I… I wish I had given it to you sooner.”
“Thank you, Tony.”
“You made it,” Tony said. “This is how we are gonna get home. If you go in, it’ll start your route.”
Harley nodded and limped into the suit. “Smells weird.”
“New suit smell,” Tony said, trying to keep an upbeat tone.
“Will I… can I talk to you guys when I’m in here?”
“Yes. There are comms in there,” Tony affirmed.
“Okay. I guess I’ll…” The suit closed around him and flew out of the room, Harley letting out a yelp of surprise.
And then Tony and Peter were alone.
“Peter…”
“Look, Mr. Stark, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back but I…”
“No, Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t listen to you and you were right. You may have been a little unstable and erratic, but nevertheless, you were right. My suits didn’t search underwater and they didn’t detect them and you were the one who thought to look for him and if you didn’t go behind my back, he wouldn’t be with us now.”
“So you’re… you’re not mad?”
“No. I’m not. Frustrated in myself, but not in you. Also, repulsors? How did you pull that off?”
“It was easier than it looks,” Peter mumbled.
“Easy for you. It took Harley a week to perfect the repulsors. It took you, what? An hour?”
“Half an hour,” Peter said quietly.
“That’s impressive. It is. But for right now, we have to put on a happy face, and make Harley feel as welcome as possible now that he’s back, so put on your comms and talk to him like everything is okay, because the most we can do for him right now is make him feel safe while he’s in the air.” Before he got into his suit, he turned around. “Did you really take out all of those guards and workers by yourself?”
“I don’t really remember. It was all a blur,” Peter said.
“Huh.” Tony got into the suit. “Hey, bud. How are you doing…”
Before Peter followed, he took a look at the room and shuddered. He couldn’t believe that this is where Harley had resided. That the rooms he had passed covered in fresh blood had been where he had… he didn’t want to imagine what he had gone through.
He equipped his mask and turned on his comms, relaxing as he heard Harley softly asking if Crossover on Infinite Earths was worth the wait and if the Arrow finale was satisfactory. Harley. HarleyHarleyHarley. He was here again. He could hear him again. Harley was back.