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Peter’s world was ash and light and pain. He felt himself be stitched back together, made whole again from the ashes he’d been only moments ago. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. His legs hurt, his stomach hurt, his whole freaking body hurt. He was on fire, but instead of being burnt to ash he was being burnt back whole.
Peter sucked in breath after breath, trying to convince himself that his lungs still worked. He coughed and rolled over in his stomach, spitting gritty dust out of his mouth. He pushed himself to his knees on trembling hands. He looked down at himself. Was he was he whole again? He could see the suit and everything was right. His insides felt queasy; he felt like he was going to puke. Vaguely, he wondered if he would vomit dust.
“We’re alive!” the human dude said. Why couldn’t Peter remember his name? Honestly Peter could barely remember his own fucking name. He remembered that thing from The Hunger Games, when Katniss was mentally unstable and the doctors told her to recite everything she knew. Well, he had no other options. He really couldn’t freak out in front of the guardians. He didn’t need their sympathy. What he wanted was Aunt May. But since she wasn’t here...
“My name is Peter Benjamin Parker,” he whispered, his eyes still squeezed shut, “I’m 17 years old. I’m Spider-Man. I just freaking died. Ohmygosh I died in Mr. Stark’s arms. He held me while I died.”
Peter’s little exercise had backfired. Now he was hyperventilating, sucking in breath after breath but taking in no oxygen. Far off, he heard the bug girl say something. Maybe, “He’s not okay.”
Peter waved a dismissive hand, but who was he kidding? He was having a full blown panic attack now. He needed help.
“Hey, kid,” the human said. Geez, what was that guy’s name? “Kid, you alright? Spider guy?”
Peter felt the human wrap his arms around his middle, a little too roughly. He wasn’t good at this. He shifted Peter around until he was cradling him in his arms like a baby. “What’s wrong?”
Peter shook his head. He couldn’t talk. “C-can’t...”
“It’s alright. Don’t try, bud,” he said. He walked him over somewhere, but Peter had his eyes glued shut against the too-bright sun on this stupid freaking alien planet. “Mantis, can you help him?”
Peter really didn’t want to be touched, but when Mantis gently laid her fingers on his forehead, he felt his whole body relax. The panic buzzing in his veins dissipated. Was this magic? Honestly, with the day he’d had, he wouldn’t put it past the universe.
Peter slowly opened his eyes to see the human, Mantis with her glowing antennas, and the other alien with the cool red markings. They all looked so concerned; it just made him want to cry. His lip trembled.
“Where is the wizard?” the grey alien said, his deep voice confused. They all looked around for Strange, who was no where to be seen. Worry swirled in Peter’s belly. They’d all come back, where was he?
Peter really wanted Mr. Stark.
“The ship’s gone, too,” the human said. Would it be weird to ask his name now? “Nebula and Stark must have taken it. Maybe Strange.”
Peter shook his head. “Strange disappeared after you did,” he said, uttering his first real words since he’d died. He wanted to be let down, but he didn’t know what would happen after Mantis let go.
Maybe the human sensed it because he sat him on his feet. Mantis slowly took her hand away from his head, but he didn’t dissolve back into tears or anything, so he counted that as a good thing.
“So, how are we gonna get home?” Peter asked quietly, suddenly fearful. He couldn’t be stuck on an alien planet. No, no, no.
“We ain’t stuck,” the human said. “They wouldn’t leave us.”
“Unless they’re dead,” the grey alien said. White hot terror shot through Peter. Mr. Stark could be dead. Cold and dead and just a corpse. Like Uncle Ben, like his parents. His hands shook at his sides.
“Dude! You’re freaking him out again!”
Peter stared down at his boots in the red dust of Titan, trying desperately to breathe normally. He felt sturdy hands on his shoulders.
“Look at me, Spider Guy,” the human said.
“What is your fucking name?” Peter exclaimed, his voice all broken up. But, shit, he couldn’t take this anymore.
“Peter Quill,” he said, startled. His green eyes were wide. He nodded at Mantis and the other guy. “That’s Mantis and Drax.”
Peter sobbed once. “I’m Peter Parker. Quit calling me Spider Guy.”
Quill laughed. “Okay, Peter. We’re Peter buddies, alright? Name twins. I’ve got something for you, okay?” He reaches down to his hip and pulled out a...a Zune? “This is what you have on Earth, right?”
Peter sniffed and wiped his nose. “Yeah, like ten years ago.”
Quill rolled his eyes. “I’m out here in space, man. I don’t know what y’all listen too anymore. Seriously, who do you take me for?”
Peter laughed despite himself. Quill handed him the ear buds and pressed play once Peter had them on. “Take a breather, okay? We’ll figure this out,” he told him.
A slow steady beat poured from the earbuds. Quill lead him to a rock, where Peter sat, the Zune in his hand. He looked at the title of the song; he didn’t recognize it. Huh. Father and Son, by Cat Stevens. Peter vaguely wondered if Cat was his real name. The lyrics started up, and Peter let himself be taken over by the song. It was nice to focus on something other than, well, everything.
“It’s not time to make a change. Just relax, take it easy.”
Peter let his eyes drift shut as a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He felt better, more at peace. Aunt May was waiting at home, and he knew Mr. Stark would get to him as soon as he could. The song kept playing, thumping softly in his ears and making things just a little better than they were.