Chapter Text
You learn something new every day.
Peter had lived through the Battle of New York. He could remember the moment when the Principal of his elementary school opened the door of his classroom and told the teacher that they were under attack.
He could remember the teachers huddled around a TV in the corner of gym, standing behind them and watching, terrified, as Ironman carried the missile up through the wormhole.
“Come back,” He had whispered, as that horrible silence fell across the room, everyone on the edge of their seat, “Come back.”
The world watched the aliens that were attacking the city fall first, seemingly hit by some unknown force, before a flash of red and gold fell back through. New York was safe, Tony Stark had survived.
They had won.
After the craziness and the chaos that came with the knowledge that they weren’t alone in the universe, people found it comforting to assume that they would always win.
They did, for a while, and despite the fact that the wins were stained with blood and body counts they continued to give people hope. Stability. Safety. They didn’t have to look at the stars with fear in their hearts anymore.
You learn something new every day.
Luck will run out eventually. Something will come along that you can’t beat.
Someday the heroes will stop winning.
Someday they’ll lose, not just the battle. They’ll lose it all.
And someday? Someday was today.
. . .
He used to love the stars.
There was something so beautiful about them, something holy. Guiding lights in the sky, studied and looked upon by all of humanity, both past and present.
Space was nothing like he thought it was. It was deadly, an unholy land, a place where shadows roamed; ready to kill you. It was fear, it was Death itself; ready to steal you away from existence.
Peter wished he had never left the ground.
If he hadn’t, maybe he would still love the stars.
“If you hadn’t ,” the traitorous voice in his mind whispered, “ maybe Tony would still be alive.”
“Parker,” A hand was on his shoulder then, shaking him, “We have to go now.”
How long had he been here, sitting amongst the ash? The sun was setting, casting shadows across Titan’s rocky soil, and a breeze came in from the right. It disturbed the ash, and Nebula tugged at his shoulder until he was far enough away that he wouldn't accidentally breathe it in.
“We have to go now,” she said again, turning towards the crashed ship and pointing, “If we’re going to survive, we have to go and get that thing working again.”
It took them four days, but they did just that.
And when they found themselves in that unholy land again, the vastness of space, Peter shut his eyes and began to count the minutes till he was on Earth again.
The minutes dragged into hours, the hours into days, the engines gave out, the life support monitors starting displaying how little oxygen they had left, and they rationed out what food there was to make it last as long as possible.
The days turned into weeks, their momentum carried them towards Earth, and Peter kept counting; just like Tony had told him too before he-
Before he left.
He left.
He tried not to think about the leaving. Did May leave? Ned? MJ? Pepper? Happy? Rhodey?
What if he was the only one left?
What if everyone on Earth was gone?
He let out a sob before he could even think to stifle it, and crawled out of the maintenance tube, shaking. The metal floor of the ship was freezing against his exposed arms and hands and he grabbed one of the Guardian’s jacket that he had been using off of the nearby seat; burying his face into it with a muffled scream.
So cold so cold why was space so cold-
The tears didn’t stop, and he wept into the jacket until he had nothing left to give.
He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he woke later to the lights having dimmed to signal that the night cycle had begun. He pulled on the jacket, breathed hot air into his hands to get feeling in them again, and followed the glow of the emergency lights up to his nest in the cockpit.
Nebula could stay warm enough on her own, but Peter had struggled with regulating his temperature ever since the spiderbite; and the ship’s heater running on as little power as possible meant that it was more than a little chilly. He had gathered up all the clothes and blankets scattered throughout the ship and did the only thing he could think to do.
He made a blanket fort.
What else can you do when you’re adrift in space with no hope of rescue?
The fort was simple, the sheets and three of the mattresses from the bunks arranged over and around the pilot and co-pilot chairs; two of the sheets pinned in place to completely enclose it and block out light. Clothing and blankets were piled on the floor inside, and he crawled in, immediately grabbing the diamond-shape patterned blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders.
The Iron Spider suit sat crumpled in the corner of the bed, and he reached out, detaching the mask and pulling it over his head.
“Karen? You still with me?”
There was a silence that seemingly spanned hours, but in reality was barely a second, before Karen’s voice filled the space, “Hello, Peter.”
“Hi, Karen. Power levels?”
“Current power levels are at eleven percent.”
He nodded and lay down, pulling another blanket into place and shutting his eyes.
“Karen, begin Lullaby Sequence and follow shutdown protocol.”
“Understood. Goodnight, Peter.”
“Goodnight, Karen.”
. . .
“Hey Peter, would you mind picking up some orange juice after patrol? Thanks! Stay safe and I love you.”
“So I talked to your Aunt, I’ll pick you up from school on Friday and you’ll be at the Tower all weekend. Thinking we’ll make some upgrades to the suit.”
“Hi, Peter, it’s Pepper. Don’t forget that I’m taking you shopping for that trip tomorrow after school, okay? I’ll text you when we get close to the school. See you then!”
“Dum-E misses you, you should come by once you’re done with patrol.”
“You’ve had my book for over a year, Parker. You ever going to return it or are you waiting till I forget? Also, Mr. Bradley is doing a pop quiz tomorrow; don’t ask how I know. See you tomorrow, bring my book.”
“I’m so proud of you, and I know Ben is too.”
“Dude I still can’t believe that Tony Stark is letting you bring me with you to the lab, this is crazy. Can’t wait!"
“You did good today, buddy. I’m proud of you.”
. . .
He kept counting, the days kept passing, and the oxygen levels were still dropping.
They had tried pretty much everything, even hooking up the Iron Spider suit to the life support systems to pull the oxygen reserves from it, but it wasn’t enough. There was too much damage and not enough supplies.
They could only hope and pray for a rescue, but they both knew it wasn't coming. No one knew where they were, or if they were even alive, and if they were receiving the distress call; they weren’t answering.
The days passed in routine, the end looming over their heads with the countdown on the wall.
“Karen, power levels?”
“Nine percent.”
“Begin Lullaby Sequence and shut down.”
“Goodnight Peter.”
“Goodnight Karen.”
The food ran out, the water reclaimer finally broke down, four days of oxygen to go.
Four days till the end.
He stayed in his blanket fort late into the day cycle, stomach cramping and head pounding, and eventually crawled out to see if Nebula was still alive and to begin the day’s repairs.
Three days till the end.
He sat up, late into the night cycle, and watched the oxygen timer count down. He wondered if May was still alive.
The red light of oxygen timer began to blur, exhaustion set in, and he went to bed.
“Power levels?”
“ Six percent. Would you like me to proceed with the Lullaby Sequence?”
“Yes.”
“Goodnight Peter.”
His lip trembled and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears, “Goodnight Karen.”
Two days till the end.
He found a coin.
Heads for dust, tails for survived.
Peter flipped the coin, over and over again, until it had landed on tails for everyone.
Everyone except for Tony.
He didn’t flip the coin for Tony, didn’t want to consider the odds when he already knew the reality.
“Power levels?”
“Three percent. Would you like me to proceed with the Lullaby Sequence?”
“Yes.” He felt like he was suffocating, “Goodnight, Karen.”
“Goodnight Peter.”
He closed his eyes.
“Hey Peter, would you mind picking up some orange juice after patrol? Thanks! Stay safe and I love you!”
One day till the end.
“Power levels?”
“Two percent.”
“Begin recording.”
A blue light blinked, “If anyone finds this, can you get it back to Earth? May Parker, Queens, New York, USA. I love you Aunt May, thank you for always being there for me.”
The blue light flared red, a warning, “End recording and shut down.”
The light went out, he left the fort. They didn’t do any repairs that day. The oxygen timer continued its countdown.
Peter was so hungry he could barely think, barely move. He and Nebula sat in silence for most of the day, at the table in the main room, watching the countdown.
“I’m going to bed,” Peter said, long before the night cycle, and Nebula looked up in concern, “I don’t want to be awake when space kills me, you know?”
She nodded, “See you on the other side, Parker.”
“See you.”
He made the final trip back to the fort, crawled into bed, and grabbed the mask one last time.
“Karen, you still with me?”
“Hello Peter. Would you like me to begin the Lullaby Sequence?”
“Yes, please. Goodnight, Karen.”
Goodbye, Karen.
Silence.
“Karen?”