Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“We can’t fix it Peter.” Bruce, Professor Hulk, whatever he was called now, told him softly, the anguish written all over his face.

“What do you mean we can’t fix it? How can you even say that? You just told me we know how to time travel now! How can we not fix it?” He practically screamed the words at the man.

“Son, you need to try to calm down.” Captain America said.

“Calm down?” He snapped at the man. “You want me to calm down? Mr. Stark is-is…”

He choked as his breath caught. He couldn’t even say the word. Couldn’t think of what had come to pass mere hours before. But at the same time, he couldn’t get the image of Mr. Stark’s vacant eyes out his head.

He glanced around the only room of the compound left partially intact after the battle, looking for help, but all the Avengers hung their heads. None of them would meet his eyes.

“Please.” He switched tactics, not too proud to beg. “Please. We-we have to…we have to do something. We have to get him back!”

“He’s gone kid.” The man Peter recognized as Hawkeye said quietly.

Peter shook his head almost violently. He refused to accept that.

“He-he can’t be gone. We can time travel! We can go back. We can save him.” He entreated. It seemed like such an obvious solution. So why weren’t they doing it? Why were they waiting? Why wouldn’t anyone look at him?

No one said anything. Not even Professor Hulk.

“Why isn’t anyone listening to me?” He yelled and swiped at the glass beakers lined up on the table next to him. They shattered in a cacophony of noise onto the floor. It didn’t alleviate his frustration, but the crash and the destruction satisfied something else in him.

“Whoa.” The Antman guy said, eyebrows flying to his hairline.

“Jesus kid.” Hawkeye said as he took a single halting step toward him.

“We are listening Peter.” Captain America said, trying to emanate calm. And while Hawkeye had stopped, the Captain crossed the room without hesitation until he stood directly in front of him.

Peter refused to back down, he met the man’s eyes unflinchingly and let all his steely anger shine through.

“You’re not.” He accused.

Captain America reached out and grasped both his shoulders with a weary sigh, exhaustion written all over him. They were all exhausted. And hurt. And in some state of shock. Peter was too. In the span of an afternoon, he’d apparently lost the past five years of his life along with his hero mentor slash father figure.

“We are.” The man repeated. “But there’s just…nothing we can do.”

“We can go back.” Peter said with desperation. Why didn’t anyone understand what he was saying?

“We could,” Captain America nodded solemnly, but then continued, explaining slowly and carefully as if he was a child, “but it wouldn’t change what happened. Do you understand? We can’t change the past. It’s done.”

Peter frowned. With everything that had happened since Thanos and his army fading to dust and Tony…. No one had bothered to explain to him in detail how they’d come to be back. He’d only heard a brief explanation about using time travel in order to acquire the infinity stones from the past so they could snap them all back into existence in the present.

“But you…you went back in time to get the stones to get us back.” Peter tried to explain even as he tried to understand. “Why can’t we go back and save him? We could go back and figure out how to prevent Thanos from ever coming in the first place. Then Mr. Stark would never even have to snap.”

“It’s complicated.” Cap said with a wince.

Peter’s fury flared. He smacked Captain America’s hands off of him and took a step back. “Don’t give me that! Don’t tell me it’s complicated and expect me to just accept it. I’m not a little kid!”

“Steve’s right.” Professor Hulk interjected. “That’s not the way time travel works. We can’t go back and change something in this timeline. Everything in the past remains in the past. It’s immutable. Anything we change in the past just creates a new completely separate alternate reality. So even if we somehow figured out how to go back and save Tony, when we returned here, to our current present time…nothing will have changed. Tony would exist again, but in an alternate reality. Not in this one. Not in ours.”

Peter felt the blood drain from his face. No.

“There has to be some other way.” He said, looking back at Steve with pleading eyes.

“There isn’t. He’s gone.” Captain America said bluntly, but Peter could see it hurt him to say the words.

“So…so what? That’s just…it?” Peter could hear the hysterical edge in his voice, but he was too far gone to care. “After everything he did, after he saved everyone, after he saved us, you’re not even going to try?”

Steve just looked at him sadly. None of the other Avengers said anything. Their silence was answer enough.

“No.” He whispered, voice breaking as his eyes filled with tears. For the first time he became keenly aware that he was surrounded by strangers. He didn’t actually know any of the Avengers besides Rhodey. And he wasn’t there. He was with Pepper with…with Mr. Stark’s… There was no one to turn to for any sort of comfort.

Peter shook his head as his face twisted in misery.

“It’s not fair.” He managed to get the words out through the terrible tightness in his throat. Tears spilled from his eyes in rivulets down his cheeks and he tasted the saltiness as some of them landed in the corners of his lips.

“I know.” Steve agreed softly. “It’s not.”

Oh god. Mr. Stark was really gone. He was dead. Decades before his time. The brightest most innovative mind of their time, snuffed out.

Peter took another stumbling step back and would’ve fallen if Steve hadn’t jumped forward and grabbed his forearms to steady him.

The more he tried to hold back his grief, the more it tried to break through. He let out short breathy gasps. He’d never get to see Mr. Stark again. Never get to talk to him. To joke with him. Work in his lab with him.

He couldn’t breathe.

“I know.” Captain America said softly, like he was trying to comfort him, but Peter couldn’t make out the man’s expression through his tears.

A broken sob finally broke free and he buckled forward as if the weight of his grief would actually bowl him over. He would’ve collapsed onto the glass strewn ground, but Steve tightened his grip and pulled him against his chest instead. Peter hadn’t expected that.

He considered wrenching away because a part of him was still so angry, but a larger part was so hurt it felt like a black hole had opened in his chest. At this point he needed the comfort, any form of comfort, even if it came from a practical stranger. He brought his arms up and around the larger man and clutched at him desperately, as if he was his sole anchor.

“I know.” The man said again, barely a whisper this time.

Peter lost his last thread of control and wept into Captain America’s chest.

During his breakdown on Captain America the rest of the Avengers had left to give him a semblance of privacy. He had no idea how long he cried but it seemed like a long time.

At some point, Steve had sat them down. The man stayed with him the whole time until Peter finally calmed down enough to tell him that he could go. That he was ok. Even though it was a lie. But he didn’t want Captain America to feel like he had to babysit him when he probably had a million other more important things he needed to be doing. Steve was reluctant to leave but he eventually gave into Peter’s insistence, probably because he thought Peter wanted to be alone.

Once Steve left, Peter decided he couldn’t stay in that little room. It was too stifling. He couldn’t breathe in there. So he fled back outside. Into the rubble and carnage. He felt a certain kinship with it. The view of the destruction was almost comforting. It soothed something in him to be confronted with a sight that reflected the devastation he felt in his soul.

Because Mr. Stark was gone.

Even though Peter had watched him fade away with his own eyes, he still couldn’t quite believe it.

Tony had always seemed larger than life. Invincible.

Peter had thought the man would always be there. Over the past couple years Mr. Stark had become a pillar of strength and support for him. He’d gone from being a superhero mentor to Spiderman to a supportive figure to Peter Parker to something even more. Something with more potential. Something Peter had been afraid to put a name to, to label, because he hadn’t wanted to jinx it. Not that it mattered now. Because now he was gone.

There’d never be anymore lab days, or weekends at the compound. He’d never fight alongside Ironman again. Tony had saved the world, the universe really. But he’d given his life to do it. Peter knew he should be proud, should be happy they’d defeated Thanos, but all he felt was loss. It was selfish, and he knew no one else would agree, but he didn’t think losing Tony was worth what it had given them. Not when Peter felt like he’d lost half his world anyway.

Silent tears ran down his cheeks.

Why couldn’t someone else have snapped the gauntlet? Why did it have to be him?

Mr. Stark’s death left behind an open gaping wound, an exposed raw nerve. It hurt. He couldn’t handle it, so he shut down. He turned off. He forced himself to stop thinking, to stop feeling, to stop everything.

He stared numbly across the horizon. Time passed but he didn’t recognize it. He sat still for so long parts of his body went numb. But he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel anything. Maybe they’d all forgotten about him and he’d just sit on this rock forever. He couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“Peter.”

Peter blinked and Dr. Strange was standing in front of him. He continued to stare straight through the man, not ready to return to this new version of reality yet.

Dr. Strange frowned and tipped his chin up with his hand, forcing eye contact. Peter met his concerned gaze with dead eyes.

“There’s someone here to see you.” Dr. Strange said.

Peter blinked but didn’t respond. Didn’t ask who. Didn’t care.

“Come on.” Dr. Strange urged, gripping his shoulder and pulling at him. He didn’t resist. He let the man lead him off the rock and back toward the compound.

They made their way over the rocks to the side of the compound with the access road. To a patch of relatively intact grassy ground. The Avengers, along with several other people Peter didn’t recognize, but had participated in the fight, loitered there, scattered in small groups talking to each other.

Peter’s eyes found Steve. Sam was standing next to him, but Steve was talking to a woman who had her back to Peter. She was wearing street clothes and he didn’t remember seeing her in the fight, but the back of her head looked oddly familiar.

Steve noticed him and he gave him a small smile. He said something to the woman he was talking to and pointed at him.

Peter frowned.

The woman turned around and Peter inhaled sharply. May. It was May. Her eyes widened almost comically at the sight of him. And then she was running toward him. She stopped short of tackling him, grabbing his shoulders instead and running her eyes over him, up and down, drinking in the sight of him.

“Oh my god.” She whispered and the next second she pulled him into a painfully tight hug.

“Oh my god.” She whispered again. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

It took him an embarrassingly long moment to get with the program and bring his arms around her back to return the hug. For him, no time had really passed since he’d last seen her. He’d gotten up, had breakfast with her, and gone on the field trip to MOMA, which had been interrupted by a trip into space with Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange where he’d fought Thanos and then apparently disappeared. When he’d returned back on Titan with Dr. Strange and the Guardians, it’d felt like he’d only blinked. Like no time had passed at all. Like it was the same day and he’d seen May only this morning. But apparently he’d been gone for five years. He hadn’t really had any time to think about it before Dr. Strange had portaled them all back to Earth from Titan so they could jump into another battle with Thanos and his army. Peter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it along with everything else that had happened.

May kept holding him. She was crying.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. And he was. Sorry he’d left her. Sorry he couldn’t commiserate with her feelings of relief. Sorry he couldn’t muster the emotion to be happy to see her.

“It’s not your fault.” She said and pulled back to hold his face between her hands. “I’m just so glad you’re back baby. I missed you so much.”

He couldn’t even say he’d missed her back. No time had passed for him. The same obviously wasn’t true for her. Her face looked older, more lined, and she had a few strands of grey in her hair.

She brought his face to hers and peppered him with kisses and then she was hugging him again.

“I never thought I’d see you again. I love you. I love you so much.” She told him.

“I love you too.” At least that was something he could say back.

She held him for awhile longer before she took a deep breath and stepped back. She wiped her face and gave him a watery smile.

“Sorry.” She apologized unnecessarily for the crying. “I still can’t really believe this. I feel like I’m in a dream.”

Peter understood, except he felt like he was in a nightmare.

“You’re here.” She said as she cupped his cheek and caressed it with her thumb. “You’re really here. You’re ok.”

She frowned. “You’re ok, right? You’re not hurt?”

He shook his head, dislodging her hand. He’d gotten knocked around quite a bit during the fight, but he wasn’t seriously hurt.

“Good. That’s good.” She said breathily and glanced around. “I just worry. I mean…this place looks like a disaster area.”

“Yeah.” He agreed. “But we won.”

“I know.” She smiled.

She tried to reach out toward him again and he took half a step back. She frowned, looking perplexed and a little hurt.

“We won but…” He swallowed hard and tried to explain, “Mr. Stark…”

He couldn’t say it. But he didn’t have to. May’s expression said it all. She already knew.

“Oh honey. I-I know. I heard.” She whispered.

His face crumpled. She reached for him again and this time he let her. She held him tight and the dam he’d built to keep back the flood of emotions, burst open. He sobbed unresistingly in her embrace.

“He-he’s gone.” He said between cries.

“I know, but he saved you.” May said softly and kissed the side of his face. “He saved everyone. It’s…it’s how he would’ve wanted to go.”

Peter only cried harder. Because he hadn’t wanted Mr. Stark to go. He wanted the man there with him. A treacherous part of him wanted Mr. Stark to be the one hugging him right now instead of May. Hugging him in celebration of their victory instead of in lamentation of such an unfathomable loss.

It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. Half of the universe wasn’t worth it. Not if it meant losing Tony Stark.

“It’s going to be ok baby. It’s going to be ok. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.” May whispered, trying to reassure him.

And he knew she was with him. That she’d always be there for him. And not long ago that would’ve been enough.

A memory of Mr. Stark’s laughing face flashed into his mind. He scrunched his eyes closed.

It wasn’t enough anymore.

The car ride home from the compound was silent, and all throughout it Peter kept catching May looking at him like he was a specter about to disappear into thin air. He could tell his absence had been unbearably painful for her, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

The apartment they drove home to wasn’t the same apartment. May had moved after ‘The Dusting’, as everyone called it, to a smaller one bedroom apartment. At least it was still in Queens. Peter didn’t know he could’ve handled that on top of everything else. To him, everything had been completely normal when he’d left only this morning to go to school, and now he lived in a different apartment and Mr. Stark was—

He shook his head and refocused on the new apartment around him. He glanced around. The layout was similar to the old apartment, but the kitchen was bigger and so was the living area.

“I’m going to get you something to drink.” May said from his side.

Thank god for May. If something had happened to her while he’d been gone and he’d come back to a world without her, without both her and Mr. Stark, he didn’t think he would’ve survived it. He was barely surviving as it was.

“Thanks.” He mumbled in response, but when he turned, she was already in the kitchen clinking glasses out of the cupboard and he was still standing by the front door. He blinked. For some reason the world around him seemed to be passing by in slow motion, like he was trying to walk and talk and exist in an atmosphere made up of molasses.

He took a step forward, and then another, even though the first had been hard enough. He blinked again and suddenly he was standing in the living room. At least the furniture was still the same, but everything else was different. May had a new TV and a throw blanket he’d never seen before. And there was a plant on a table by the window even though in all the time he’d know her, May had never been able to keep a plant alive. The furniture was arranged differently than he was used to. And all the decorations were different. Including the pictures. Instead of books, the shelves were filled with picture frames. Most of them were of him.

One of them caught his eye and his breath caught. He picked up the framed photo and examined it closer. It was one his favorite pictures of him and Mr. Stark. Ms. Potts had taken it. They were in the workshop together, Mr. Stark sitting back in his desk chair, arms crossed, with an amused smile on his face as he listened to Peter, who was perched on the desktop in front of him, talk about something while gesturing animatedly with his arms. Peter couldn’t even remember what he’d been talking about. He looked closer at Mr. Stark in the photo. He was wearing a black sabbath t-shirt and dark jeans and looking at Peter like he’d hung the moon.

Mr. Stark would never look at him like that again. Grief hit him hard. He put the photo back down and rubbed roughly at his eyes. God. He couldn’t cry again. It seemed like it was all he’d been doing the past few hours. He’d finally gotten a lid on it.

“You all right baby?” May asked as she came up behind him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and set the glass of water down on the shelf, next to the photo he’d been looking at.

He shrugged. He didn’t trust himself to speak and he didn’t have the energy to lie. Because he wasn’t all right. He didn’t think he’d ever be all right again. He wondered what terrible sin he must’ve committed in a past life that resulted in every important male figure in his life getting torn away from him.

“You know, he missed you.” May said.

Peter inhaled sharply. He turned a questioning gaze toward her, still not up to forming actual words.

May gave him a small half smile. “While you were gone he used to call me, sometimes in the middle of the night, and we’d talk about you. We’d tell each other stories. I had more than he did, but he still had some pretty good ones. You never told me about the time you got tangled in your own webs and got stuck hanging upside down off a building so he had to come cut you free.”

“He told you about that?” The question burst out of his mouth in surprise. So much for the superhero bro code. Apparently it didn’t extend posthumously.

“We told each other a lot of things.” May said and cupped his cheek with her hand. “He loved you.”

“He said that?” Peter asked. As close as he and Mr. Stark had grown after he’d turned the man down for a spot on the Avengers, his mentor had never been that forthcoming when it came to voicing his emotions. But to be fair, neither had Peter.

May smiled sadly as she answered, “He didn’t have to honey. It was obvious.”

Peter looked away. He couldn’t handle the power of her gaze. He could barely handle the truth of the words.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admitted.

May pulled him into a hug. He hadn’t even realized he’d started to cry again.

“I know it hurts baby, but we’ll get through it together, ok?” May whispered into his hair.

He shook his head. “I can’t do this again.”

He didn’t know how to survive this. To make it through such a brutal loss again. It felt too much like his parents and Ben all over, except this time it was Mr. Stark.

May pulled back and looked seriously into his eyes. “Yes you can. You’re so strong. You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this.”

Peter closed his eyes and fell forward into her arms. He wanted to believe her. Wanted to believe it would get better. That the hurt would fade with time, that someday he’d wake up and be able to be himself again, to be happy again, but he didn’t think he would.

He’d made it through so much, but this…this finally felt like one thing too many. He could feel it with a sick certainty. This had broken him in some irreparable way. This last loss was insurmountable. And he knew it. But May didn’t, so he let her hold him and try to comfort him because maybe it would at least make her feel better.

He knew there was nothing left in the world that could do the same for him.

That night, Peter laid on the couch and stared out the window. One of the downsides of the whole one bedroom apartment thing was that there was only one bed. May was going to start hunting for a two bedroom apartment tomorrow, but for now they were stuck with what they had. She’d tried to get him to take the bed or share it with her, but he’d refused. It wasn’t as if he was actually going to sleep tonight anyway, although he didn’t tell her that.

He couldn’t stop replaying his actions in the battle over and over again. Why hadn’t he stuck closer to Mr. Stark when he’d pulled him up from the ground? The man had hugged him. It was the first time they’d ever done that. If he’d known at the time it was also going to be the last, Peter never would’ve let him go.

A sharp sob erupted from his throat. He brought a hand over his mouth to try to muffle it. He didn’t want to wake May up at two in the morning after she’d already spent the whole day dealing with him. He recognized that she’d been through a lot too. Her nephew’s miraculous resurrection and Mr. Stark’s death, a man who she’d apparently become close to, who had become her friend while Peter had been gone.

He should’ve done more. He sniffled and choked on his grief. He could’ve done more. He’d had the gauntlet in his hand for awhile. He should’ve been the one to snap his fingers. But at the time, he hadn’t thought to use the weird glove thing in his hands. All he’d thought about was how to keep it away from Thanos.

If he’d known then what he knew now, he would’ve snapped. In a heartbeat. To save Mr. Stark. With his healing powers, maybe he would’ve actually survived it.

And if not, then so be it.

At least he wouldn’t have had to live with the image of Mr. Stark’s vacant eyes forever burned into his brain.

And he’d already been gone for the past five years. May had already moved on. If he’d snapped and died, then instead of coming back with the rest of the dusted, he just would’ve stayed gone. It wouldn’t have been a new loss and it would’ve been worth it if it meant Mr. Stark got to live. What was his life compared to Mr. Stark’s? It was no contest.

But instead, Mr. Stark had snapped. He’d saved everyone. And paid the ultimate price. And now Peter would have to live in a world without him. Why did that seem so inconceivable? So impossible?

They’d won but Mr. Stark was gone. He was gone. Gone forever.

Peter gasped and rolled over, pressing his face against the cushioned couch back. Heavy sobs racked his frame.

If this was winning, why did it feel so much like losing?

Chapter Text

“Are you ready honey?” May called from the living room.

Peter stared at his reflection in the bathroom, where he’d gone to get changed since he didn’t have his own bedroom at the moment. He didn’t have much of anything. All his clothes were gone. May had donated them. The suit he was wearing was one she’d had to go out and buy. Before, it would’ve been tough to afford, but not anymore. May had thrown herself into her work after he’d vanished and she’d gotten promoted three times over along with a hefty increase in her paycheck. It wasn’t like they were rich now, but they were comfortable enough to buy a suit last minute.

“Coming!” He called back and then went back to fiddling with his tie. Why was this so hard? He adjusted the ends in his hands. The way he’d been taught. The way Mr. Stark had taught him.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Stark asked with amusement.

“Trying to tie this stupid tie.” He grumbled, not in the mood for his mentor’s teasing.

He continued to struggle with the tie in his hands. He put one end over the other and then twisted them. That’s what the youtube video had said to do. At least he thought it was. Maybe he should’ve watched it more than once, but he didn’t think it’d be this stupidly difficult.

He yanked the ends together and back and forth in his frustration. Mr. Stark chuckled at his distress. He paused to glare at him.

“Here Underoos.” Mr. Stark finally took pity on him as he reached for the tie. “Let me just…”

Peter sighed and released the disaster of silk. Mr. Stark unwound the twisted knot and pulled it off. Peter watched as the man smoothed down the wrinkled damage Peter had done with his numerous failed attempts.

“You’ve never tied a tie before huh?” Mr. Stark asked, eyes crinkling.

“What do you think?” He deadpanned.

The man let out a little huff of amusement.

“Want me to show you?” His mentor asked, still holding the tie in his hands. He seemed sort of hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if this was allowed or if he was crossing some sort of non-existent mentor-mentee relationship line.

“Yeah sure.” Peter answered quietly. “If-if you don’t mind.”

Mr. Stark smiled at him as he slung the tie back around Peter’s neck. Once it was in place, instead of just tying it for him, the man moved to stand behind him to demonstrate how to do it from Peter’s point of view.

“You want this end longer than the other. See? So you have more area to work with. Then this part goes over this one.” Mr. Stark explained as he went through the movements to show Peter how to do it. Peter tried to follow along.

“And voila.” Mr. Stark said with a flourish as he tightened the knot up to Peter’s neck. It was a perfectly tied tie.

“Thanks Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled and turned to face the man instead of his reflection in the mirror.

“Nuh uh we’re not done.” Mr. Stark grabbed his shoulders mid twist and faced him back toward the mirror. A second later he pulled the tie apart.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Your turn.” Mr. Stark explained.

“Mr. Stark we’re going to be late.” He complained. He was pretty sure he could do it, but he was nervous to mess up in front of his hero.

“We have plenty of time. Besides it’s my event. So really we can’t be late. It starts when I get there.”

Peter rolled his eyes but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“I thought it was an SI event.” Peter quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes and in case you forgot, I’m the S in the SI, so ipso facto it’s my event.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” He joked.

“It is. Trust me kid.”

“I don’t think Ms. Potts would agree.”

“I knew it was a mistake to introduce you two.” Mr. Stark joked.

“No it wasn’t. She’s amazing.” He said.

Mr. Stark shook his head in bemusement.

“Not as amazing as me though, right?” The man asked.

Peter pretended to think about it.

“Right?” Mr. Stark prodded.

“Sure.” Peter smirked at him in the mirror.

“All right stop stalling.” Mr. Stark said after a beat, tugging at the ends of his tie. “Get to it. Chop chop.”

“I thought we weren’t in a hurry.”

“We’re not, but that doesn’t mean we can stand here all day.” Tony said. “I mean I love staring at myself in the mirror, but we have places to go kid. People to see.”

Peter’s smile faltered as he grasped the ends of his tie again. What if he couldn’t do it? He didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Stark after he’d gone through all the trouble to teach him. “I don’t know if I…”

“I’ll help you.” Mr. Stark assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Ok.” He nodded and tried to recreate the technique Mr. Stark had shown him.

It only took him three tries to get it. Mr. Stark coached him patiently, never once making fun of him.

“Perfect.” His mentor said with a proud smile and a clap on his back once he’d done it. “And now you know how to tie a tie. Something every man needs to know.”

Peter smiled back, trying to muster up the courage to thank him, to explain how much it meant to him that he’d had taken the time to teach him. But before he could, Mr. Stark was slinging an arm around his shoulders and leading him out of the room.

“Come on we better get going. If we’re any later, Pepper’s going to string me up by my toes.” Mr. Stark said.

Peter laughed. “I thought you said we couldn’t be late.”

“I can be as late as I want. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to hear about it.”

“Hm. It almost sounds like you’re afraid of your own fiancé.”

“Have you met the woman? She’s terrifying.” Mr. Stark said. “In a completely sexy way of course—”

“Ew gross.” Peter made a face.

Mr. Stark laughed and pulled him tighter into his side, almost like a half hug, as he continued to lead him toward the elevator.

“Peter?” May called his name and Peter startled, coming back to himself as the memory faded. The reflection that greeted him in the mirror was nothing like the one in his memory. He had tears streaming down his cheeks and he looked the epitome of despair. He even felt a little sick, even though he didn’t know how that was possible since he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“One second!” He called back and willed his voice not to break. He wiped the tears off his cheeks with the back of his hand and went back to studying his tie in the mirror. He could tie it. He knew he could. Mr. Stark had taught him. He made sure one end was longer than the other and then looped it over just like Mr. Stark had shown him.

When he’d finished, it was as perfect as the last time he’d done it with Mr. Stark watching over his shoulder. Except instead of last time, when he’d been filled with a sense of shy accomplishment, this time, his heart was breaking.

Last time had felt like some unspoken monumental moment, something more than a mentor-mentee thing. Something promising. Almost like a father-son thing. It represented how much closer he and Mr. Stark had grown, and he’d thought it was the beginning of something more. Kind of like a harbinger of other important moments to come in the future.

He hadn’t known that five days later he’d be on a spaceship with the man heading toward his own dusting and temporary five year death.

He hadn’t known the next time he’d need to tie a tie would be for Mr. Stark’s own funeral.

He hadn’t known the tie memory would haunt him like a ghost.

“You ok?” May asked the second he opened the bathroom door.

The blatantly obvious answer was no.

“Yeah.” He said instead.

May nodded unsurely. She could probably see the truth on his face, although he didn’t see how. His facial muscles felt paralyzed. He didn’t think he’d made any sort of expression besides abject misery since Mr. Stark had—

“You ready?” She asked.

No. Never.

“Yeah.” He mumbled.

He noticed she was wearing a simple black dress, and she looked nice. Very put together, which wasn’t exactly usual for her. Although who knew what her usual was anymore. Maybe this was it. Her new normal. And Peter just hadn’t been there to see.

“Ok let’s go.” She nodded and started walking toward the door. He followed numbly behind her. She didn’t reach out to him. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted her to. The only thing he was certain he wanted right now was Mr. Stark. And it was the one thing he couldn’t have.

Tony’s funeral wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.

It was harder.

The drive to the lake house took two hours. Two silent hours of sitting in the hot car in his uncomfortable suit. And even with May speeding, they still only got there with minutes to spare. Probably his fault since he’d taken so long getting ready.

But they made it.

“Hi May. Peter.” Pepper greeted them as she opened the door with a weak smile.

“Oh Pepper, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” May said and took a step forward to encompass her in a hug with the familiarity of long time friends. When had that happened? Peter blinked, watching mute on the stoop.

“It’s ok.” Pepper mumbled, but from behind May, Peter could see her face was scrunched up like she was trying her hardest not to cry.

Pepper let out a surprised exhale and continued, “I mean it’s not. Of course it’s not ok. But—”

“It’s all right.” May interrupted the uncharacteristic rambling. Peter had never heard Ms. Potts sound anything besides perfectly confident and poised before. “I understand.”

And it was true, Peter realized sadly. May did understand. She’d lost her own husband a few years before, or was it nine years now? The time thing still boggled his mind. May had lost her husband and Peter had lost a father figure, and they’d both tried to move on, and now Pepper had lost her husband and somehow Peter had lost another father figure. Maybe he was destined to live without any guiding male presence in his life.

Pepper and May separated and Pepper cleared her throat before saying, “Anyway, you’re just in time. We were just about to go down to the lake.”

May walked into the house and Peter followed. As he walked by her, Pepper dropped hand on the top of his head in comfort. She brushed his hair back before resting her hand on the back of his neck. It made the lump in his throat expand.

“How are you doing Peter?” She asked him, clearly concerned. He hated that she was wasting energy worrying about him on the day of her husband’s funeral.

He opened his mouth to try to say he was ok. To lie. But nothing came out. He couldn’t lie to Ms. Potts. Not after they’d both been there together at the end. So he settled for a half shrug.

“Yeah me too.” She said sadly, her eyes glistening.

“I—” He wanted to reassure her in some way, but it backfired when the words caught tight in his throat and a rough sob came out instead.

“Oh honey.” Pepper whispered and the hand on the back of his neck pulled him gently into a hug.

And suddenly he was losing it again. Sobbing unrestrained into Pepper. The harder he tried to stop it, the worse he cried. She squeezed him tighter and he held her desperately in return.

“It-it’s not fair.” He said.

“I know.” She whispered into his hair.

“I m-miss him.”

“I know. Me too.”

“I-I can’t— I—” He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say, but he gave up as it got too hard to talk around the crying.

Pepper just held him and let him cry. Once his sobs started to lose their ferocity, started to slow, she ran a hand over the back of his head and shushed him soothingly.

“Shh it’s ok.” She whispered to him. “It’s going to be ok honey.”

“But it-it’s not.” He denied. “It’s never...never going to b-be ok again.”

Pepper didn’t say anything in response. Her silence was enough for him to know she agreed with him.

He eventually managed to get a grip. He had no idea how much time had passed. He hoped his breakdown hadn’t delayed the funeral proceedings.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he pulled away and swiped at his face, trying to wipe away the evidence of his weakness. God, at this rate, he was going to dehydrate himself to death with all the tears. At least the house was empty. No one else had been around to see his breakdown.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Ms. Potts shook her head.

Peter wasn’t too sure about that. He figured he had a lot to be sorry for. Including not doing more to prevent her husband’s death.

He hung his head.

“Are you ready to go down to the lake or do you need a few more minutes?” Pepper asked patiently. She was always so patient. It was probably one of the reasons her and Mr. Stark had worked out so well.

He sniffled but managed to resolutely meet her gaze without bursting into tears again.

“No I-I’m ok. I’m…ready.”

He wasn’t.

But a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference.

He’d never be ready for this.

He didn’t know how Pepper was.

Pepper met May’s eyes, clearly looking for confirmation. His aunt was standing off to his side but she looked like she was itching to pull Peter into her own hug at any moment.

“I’ve got him.” May told her. “Thank you.”

“Ok.” Pepper gave them a wan smile and Peter tried to return it but his mouth twisted into more of a grimace instead.

“Follow me.” She said. May slung an arm around him and they trailed behind Pepper as she led them out the deck door and down to the dock by the lake. So many people were already outside, waiting.

Shit.

Peter had made them wait.

Peter kept his head down as he passed everyone and followed Pepper down to the end of the dock. Any other time he’d be overanalyzing everything and worried he was overstepping by walking all the way to the front for Tony Stark’s funeral, but he hurt too much to care. And deep down he knew what he’d meant to the man. He knew he belonged at the front. So did May apparently. They didn’t stop until they ran out of room. And even then Peter took another step forward so he stood to the right of Captain America who was directly behind Rhodey and Happy. And Pepper. And…a little girl?

Pepper faced all the people gathered there and said a few words. Words Peter couldn’t seem to comprehend but they must’ve been good because everyone around him smiled and let out teary laughs at different moments, including May. And then when she’d finished talking, Pepper knelt down and placed an arc reactor surrounded by a wreath of flowers into the water. They all watched as it floated away.

Peter kind of wanted to float away too.

Pepper stayed kneeling and wrapped an arm around the little girl, and suddenly he figured out who she must be. His heart leapt into his throat. No. No no no. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. He took a few short breaths and slammed his eyes shut as he tried to regain control. He didn’t want to lose it again in front of everyone. In front of all the Avengers and Tony’s family and Tony’s…Tony’s…

The kid wasn’t even crying. She was just standing there and hugging Pepper.

If she could keep it together, then so could Peter.

Eventually everyone started to disperse and make their way back to the house. Peter kept staring at the lake. His feet felt like they were frozen in cement. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to move again.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder and then walked away, leaving only him, May, Rhodey, Happy, Pepper and the little girl on the dock.

“Come on honey.” May whispered at his side as she loosely grabbed his arm.

He shrugged out of her grasp. He had the sudden insane urge to dive into the lake. To swim after the wreath, as if catching it would mean magically bringing Mr. Stark back to life.

“Peter.” May whispered and grabbed his arm again.

He sighed but let her lead him away back toward the house. As if he needed to give the rest of them more time alone to grieve.

As if he wasn’t hurting just as much.

Somehow he ended up sitting alone on a couch with a plate of food in his hand. May was…somewhere. She’d said something about going to the bathroom maybe? He couldn’t really remember. Everything seemed to phase in and out of existence. He’d blink and he’d find himself somewhere doing something and then seemingly blink again and he’d be somewhere else with no recollection of how he’d gotten there. Maybe this was shock. Could you go into shock from grief? Didn’t people usually go into shock immediately after something bad happened? Not days later. Not that Peter had ever been usual.

He stared blankly down at the plate. He wasn’t really sure how he’d ended up with the plate of food either. He didn’t think he’d gotten it for himself. Had May brought it to him? He wasn’t sure. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t going to eat it. The very thought of trying to put food in his mouth made him want to gag. Whose idea was it to serve food at funerals anyway? How could anyone actually eat?

“Hey.” Peter distantly recognized the voice but he didn’t bother diverting his stare from the congealing macaroni and cheese on his plate.

“Hey kid.” The voice said, more persistent.

After a long blink, Peter dragged his gaze up to meet Happy’s. Even moving his eyes felt like it took a tremendous effort. Happy stood in front of him, Rhodey at his side. The two of them had been practically attached at the hip all day.

“You all right?” Happy asked.

Peter blinked blankly at him. He didn’t have the energy to talk.

Happy and Rhodey exchanged a look at his nonverbal response and then Happy let out a resigned sigh and sat down on the couch next to him. A few seconds later, Rhodey took the empty seat on his other side so he was bracketed between them. He went back to staring at his untouched plate.

“You want me to get you something else?” Happy asked. Peter’s brow furrowed slightly. Get him what?

“Food, kid.” Happy explained. “You haven’t touched anything. You’ve been staring at that plate for the last five minutes.”

“No.” He managed to make his mouth move to respond. He swallowed hard. “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

Peter shook his head. He couldn’t. He picked the plate up off his lap and dropped it on the coffee table in front of him, shoving it away.

Happy sighed again.

“Listen Peter.” Rhodey tried. “We get it. Believe me. This is…this is a raw deal.”

A pained expression crossed the colonel’s face before he continued, “But that doesn’t mean you stop taking care of yourself. He wouldn’t want that.”

Happy nodded sagely and agreed, “He wouldn’t.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he closed his eyes and hung his head. He knew they were right but he couldn’t change how he felt. And how were Mr. Stark’s two oldest friends not a complete mess like he was right now?

“I can’t…” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to do this. How-how do you do it?”

“You get through today and then you wake up tomorrow and get through that one too. And then the next day and the next. One day at a time.” Rhodey answered.

That sounded terrible. Days and days all adding up to a forever without Tony. His breath caught and he tried to hold back the tears that wanted to erupt again, but he wasn’t very successful.

“Jesus.” Happy mumbled before placing an arm across his shoulders. “Come here kid.”

That brought him up short. He snapped his head up at Happy in confusion

“I’m going to hug you.” Happy explained as he tugged on his shoulder to bring him against his side. “Don’t make a big thing about it.”

He let out a surprised snort as Rhodey chuckled next to him. He let Happy pull him into his chest. The man brought both arms around him to encompass him in a warm bear hug. Peter brought his own arms up and around the man’s back. A few seconds later Happy started rubbing circles on his back. Peter sniffled into the man’s shirt. The whole thing was surreal but it fit with how the entire day, or really week, seemed to be going, so it didn’t actually seem all that strange.

Minutes passed and still Happy made no move to shove him away.

“Is he asleep?” Rhodey asked awhile later. Truthfully, he was on the precipice of it. He hadn’t really slept much since Thanos. Since Mr. Stark…

“I don’t know.” Happy said, trying to be quiet, but the words reverberated through the ear Peter had pressed to his chest. “Kid? You awake?”

He knew he should answer, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to sleep and it seemed like maybe he’d finally get to in the most unlikely place imaginable.

He heard Rhodey get up and walk to the other side of the couch, the way Peter’s face was facing.

“He looks like he’s asleep.” Rhodey said. “You want me to help you move him?”

“No.” Happy said. “You’ll wake him up. Just leave him for now. Kid doesn’t look like he’s slept in days.”

“Who knew you were such a softie.” Rhodey teased. “Spiderman’s personal teddy bear.”

“Shut up.” Happy said without any heat and then added quietly, “It’s what the boss would’ve wanted.”

“Yeah.” Rhodey sighed and sat back down on the couch. “You’re right.”

The next moment, Rhodey reached down to grab his legs and placed them in his lap as Happy carefully readjusted him so he was laying across his lap with a throw pillow under his head. Peter stayed limp throughout it. The new position was surprisingly comfortable. He figured he’d have to pretend to be asleep for at least another five minutes or the two men might guess he’d been playing possum. But before he had a chance to fake waking up, he fell asleep.

“Kid wake up.”

A hand shook his shoulder gently, but he was comfortable. He didn’t want to get up. He rolled away into the soft cushions and heard a resulting chuckle.

“Come on kid. You can’t sleep here.” The voice said again along with more vigorous shaking.

“Comfortable.” He mumbled in protest. He didn’t want to get up.

“Come on Pete.” Tony tugged on his shoulder, trying to roll him back over. “There’s a perfectly nice bed you can sleep in. Pepper did up the guest room just for you.”

He grunted a negative and curled more into a ball. He wasn’t moving.

The man sighed in resignation.

“Fine. Sleep on the lumpy couch then, but I don’t want to hear you complaining about being stiff in the morning. Believe me, the back spasms are no fun.”

“Cause you’re old.” He mumbled into the cushion.

“What’d you call me pipsqueak?”

Peter hummed.

“Because I thought you said I was old, but that can’t be right when you know how young and hip I am.”

Peter snorted. “Whatever you want to tell yourself Mr. Stark.”

“Nope. It’s a fact. I—”

“Shhh.” Peter shut down any further rambling.

“Did you just shush me?” Mr. Stark asked in mock indignation.

“Sleeping.” He mumbled and tried to recapture sleep again.

Mr. Stark huffed but left him alone. Sort of.

The next minute Peter felt the man pull the sneakers off his feet and drop them to the floor. He settled the thin throw blanket over him and then lifted Peter’s head up and slid a soft pillow under it.

Peter hummed in appreciation and Mr. Stark tousled his hair.

“Good night Underoos.” His mentor said.

“Hmm night Tony.” Peter mumbled back and dropped back to sleep.

When Peter woke up sometime later, he was still sprawled out on top of Rhodey and Happy but the two men were now asleep as well. Rhodey toppled against the other arm of the couch and Happy with his head craned back over the couch back, snoring softly.

Peter smiled at the sight before memory crashed into him and he remembered the reason they’d come to be in that position. Tony was dead. The man hadn’t just tucked him. That had only been a dream. A memory actually. In reality, Peter fallen asleep on the man’s couch at his funeral. Although apparently so had his two best friends, so maybe it wasn’t so unforgiveable. Not that Mr. Stark would be around to forgive him for it anyway. But hopefully it hadn’t bothered Pepper.

He looked around. The living room was completely empty. Earlier there’d been so many people in the small space that he could barely walk, but now no one was in sight, including May. He listened and heard some voices coming from the kitchen, but the loud commotion from before had faded. People must’ve left. Maybe it was late.

Peter carefully extricated himself from Rhodey and Happy. Neither man stirred. He thought about wandering into the kitchen but didn’t feel like interacting with anyone yet, so he slipped through the glass door to go outside instead. He needed some air.

The lawn was empty. He walked along the grass toward the lake, no real plan or destination in mind when he caught sight of something peeking through the trees. He stopped short and frowned. It wasn’t far away. His feet started leading him toward it before he made the conscious decision to check it out.

He covered the distance quickly and as he got closer realized it was a small tent. Oh. It must be the kid’s. He was about to turn away to walk back to the lakeshore when the tent flap rustled. Shoot. Had some animal, a racoon or something, wandered into it and gotten stuck? He walked over to it, knelt down and grabbed the tent flap and started pulling it back slowly. He didn’t want to spook whatever critter was in there.

Before he could move it all the way aside, a helmet popped out inches from his face. An Ironman helmet. It looked almost exactly like Mr. Stark’s, except it was blue. Oh. It was the helmet from Pepper’s armor. And it was currently attached to a small human.

“Uh…” Peter blinked and jerked backward in surprise, landing flat on his backside. He’d been expecting a different kind of creature.

“Hi.” The voice behind the helmet came out sweet and young, nothing like the mechanized Ironman voice.

“Um hi.” Peter greeted back.

“Is my mommy looking for me?” The girl asked, face still hidden behind the helmet.

Mommy? Then it clicked. For a genius, it shouldn’t have taken him so long to figure out. Who else could this kid be? The tent was obviously her play area.

“No. She’s not. At least I don’t-I don’t think so. I um haven’t seen her in awhile. I was just-I was—” Peter stumbled over his words as he answered.

“It’s ok.” The girl interrupted his awkward explanation. “Are you one of daddy’s friends?”

Peter’s heart sunk. Daddy.

“Um yeah.” He nodded.

The girl crawled the rest of the way out of the tent and sat back on her knees in front of him. She pulled the helmet off and gave him a small smile. When Peter caught her eyes, his jaw dropped. They were Tony’s eyes.

“Oh my god.” He whispered before he could stop himself.

“What?” She screwed her face up in confusion. “Do I have dirt on my nose?”

She rubbed at it.

“No you’re-you’re fine. You just-you look… You look just like your daddy.” Peter whispered.

“That’s what everyone always says.” She nodded.

Peter studied her face like a prized painting. It wasn’t just her eyes. She had his hair and his nose. And his smile. But her cheeks and her jaw, those were all Pepper.

“I’m Morgan.” She held her hand out politely.

Peter stared at it for a second in surprise before he got with the program and brought his own hand up to shake hers. “It’s nice to meet you Morgan. I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Morgan’s eyes went wide and she looked left and right to make sure no was in earshot before she whispered with excitement, “You’re Spiderman!”

Peter blinked. “Uh…”

“Daddy’s told me tons of stories about you.” She exclaimed, beaming at him.

“He has?” Peter asked, still kind of stunned that this little girl knew his secret identity.

“Of course. You’re daddy’s favorite superhero!”

“Really?”

She nodded. “He talks about you a lot. He misses you. But you’re back now, so he won’t have to miss you anymore.”

He was confused for a moment because Mr. Stark was gone, so he wouldn’t be missing anyone, they’d all be missing him. But then he remembered hearing somewhere that kids didn’t understand death, the finality of it, until after age six.

He cleared his throat to try to tamp down the lump forming there again. He couldn’t cry in front of the kid.

“How-how old are you Morgan?” He asked.

“I’m four.” She stated proudly and held her hand out with four fingers up. “Actually four and a half. I’m going to be five in March.”

It was mid-September. Or so everyone kept telling him.

“Wow. That’s so big.” He forced a grin on his face and to his surprise it wasn’t as hard as he thought it’d be.

“I know.” She smiled. “I’m going to have a birthday party.”

“That sounds fun.” He said.

“Will you come?” She asked eagerly.

“To your party?”

She nodded.

“You want me to come to your birthday party?” He clarified. They’d only just met and he wasn’t exactly her age.

“Yeah. We’re friends now and friends come to each other’s birthday parties.” She answered as if it was obvious.

“You’re right.” He agreed with a nod at the simple logic before saying wholeheartedly, “I would love to come to your birthday party Morgan.”

She beamed at him. She was so cute Peter couldn’t help it, he reached out and ruffled her hair.

“Hey.” She protested but the subsequent giggling showed she enjoyed the teasing. Peter watched as she tried to smooth her locks back in place with her small hands.

“Petey?” She asked once she deemed her hair fixed.

“Yeah?” He asked and didn’t correct the name. No one had ever called him Petey before but from Morgan it was sweet.

“Will you play with me?”

“Um sure. What do you want to play?” It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do. He didn’t really want to go back in the house yet and he was the least sad he’d felt in days since he started talking with Morgan.

“Legos!” She said.

It startled a laugh out of him. It was the first time he’d laughed since before the whole Thanos mess.

“A girl after my own heart.” He smiled. “I love Legos.”

“Ok come on.” She pulled on his sleeve. “They’re in my tent.”

She crawled in and he followed right behind, not even caring that he was getting his brand new suit dirty. There was just enough clearance for both of them to sit down around the pile of Legos in the center.

“Where are the instructions?” Peter asked as he ran a hand through the pile. They were smaller than he would’ve expected a four year to be playing with. But she was probably a little genius, being Tony Stark’s daughter and all.

“Daddy says instructions are for the simple minded.” She answered matter of factly and then squinted at him, “I thought you were smart.”

Peter laughed again but it came out rougher, like he was trying to keep from bursting into tears at the same time. He kind of was.

“Probably not as smart as you.” He joked.

“That’s ok. I’ll help you.” Morgan shrugged. “I have a picture of how it’s supposed to look so we can figure it out.”

“Ok.” Peter nodded. That’s right. Little kids didn’t understand sarcasm either. God how had Tony handled that? The man practically oozed sarcasm. Although he was probably different around his own daughter. Peter’s chest clenched. He’d never get to see that. Never get to see Mr. Stark acting as a father. He picked up the picture Morgan handed him and together they started sorting through the Lego pile.

And that’s how he spent the next hour. Hiding outside in a tent putting together Legos with Tony Stark’s daughter on the day of his funeral. It probably shouldn’t be surprising but spending time with her was almost like a balm for his soul. It was like a piece of Mr. Stark had survived even though he was gone. She even had some of his mannerisms and made some of his same expressions.

“Hey Petey?” She quirked her head as she looked at him.

“Yeah?” He looked up from the two Lego pieces he was fitting together.

“Will you be my friend forever?” She asked seriously and seemingly out of the blue.

Peter put the Legos down so he could give her his full attention as he answered solemnly, “Forever and ever.”

“Forever and ever.” She parroted back in agreement with a shy smile before she leaned forward to hug him.

He hugged her tightly back.

And tried not to cry in her hair.

“She’s so young.” Peter mumbled as he stared out the car window. May and Pepper had come to find them shortly after their friends forever moment. He could tell they had thought the bonding between him and Morgan was precious, but they’d still broken up the playdate since May had wanted to get going. She wanted to get back to the city before dark. She didn’t like driving at night anymore. Another new thing that’d apparently developed in the past five years Peter had been gone.

“It’s probably better that way.” May said and then winced, as if she immediately regretted the words.

Peter frowned. Better? How could being younger be better? Then he got it. He’d been six when he’d lost his parents and he barely remembered them. What memories he did have were disjointed fragments and emotions, more like dreams than solid memory. Morgan was only four.

“She’s not going to remember him.” He said with horror. The realization took his breath away. He was struck with a tidal wave of agonizing loss. One of the best men of their time. One of the best men Peter had ever known, and his own daughter wouldn’t even remember him.

Nausea rose in his throat.

“Pull over.” He commanded.

“What? Honey are you—”

“Pull over!”

The car veered to the side of the road. Peter threw himself out before it had come to a complete stop. He tripped and fell onto all fours, the gravel scraping his palms, but he barely noticed the sting as he heaved and bile splattered onto the ground.

“Oh honey.” He heard May say before she settled a comforting hand between his shoulder blades as he gagged again. Nothing came up. He hadn’t eaten anything yet today. He’d barely even drank anything. He didn’t care. At the moment he didn’t care about anything except the fact that Morgan, sweet, innocent, perfect, amazing Morgan, would never get a chance to know her father, would never know a life filled with his love, would never get a chance to make more happy memories with him. Or even remember the ones they already had. It felt like the biggest slap in the face by the universe. If anyone deserved to live a full life with his family it was Mr. Stark, and now his own daughter probably wouldn’t even remember him.

Peter gagged and threw up another string of bile, barely registering May’s hand rubbing his back.

When he’d finished and every drop of anything left in his stomach had been divested onto the ground, he leaned into May’s embrace. She buried a hand in his hair and another cupped his cheek.

“Sweetie are you sick?”

It seemed like a stupid question since he’d just finished puking his guts out on the gravel, but he understood what she was really asking.

He shook his head and spoke, voice trembling, “She’s not going to remember him.”

“Oh honey.” May said sadly and kissed the top of his head as her fingers roped through his hair.

“God she’s not-she’s not going to remember him. She’s not going to remember him.” He repeated the terrible fact over and over again like a mantra. He knew he probably sounded like someone on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, even as a small part of him worried it might be a little too close to the truth.

Chapter Text

Even though he was gone, Mr. Stark was everywhere.

Wherever Peter went he was faced with reminders of the man. The burger shop on the corner they used to frequent. The science pun t-shirts Peter wore that he used to make comments about. The Star Trek movie they’d watched together and Mr. Stark pretended to hate but they both knew he secretly liked. The blue rug in the apartment he’d mocked once.

The memories dogged him. He knew he should be appreciative that he had memories. That he’d remember his mentor, unlike the man’s own daughter. But they hurt so much when coupled with the knowledge that they were finite. No new ones would be added.

A screwdriver sat on his desk. Every time he saw it he remembered how Mr. Stark had helped him use it to tweak something on his webshooters and then had sent it home with him so he’d have if he ever needed it. And the memory was good, but it stung when he realized he’d never get to spend another afternoon in the workshop with Mr. Stark. They’d never again work on his webshooters together. He was on his own now. Forever.

It’d been three months since Mr. Stark’s funeral and he’d been trying to do what Mr. Rhodes had suggested, to get through one day at a time, but it was hard when the next day never seemed to get any better. It was always just as difficult as the day before. Sometimes even harder.

May was trying her best. So were Ned and MJ. And he couldn’t believe how lucky they were, or how unlucky depending on how you looked at it, that they’d all ended up dusted so they’d still get to finish high school together. But even that was a cold comfort. And it didn’t matter how hard they all tried to cheer him up, it didn’t change the fact that Mr. Stark was gone.

The only thing that seemed to temporarily alleviate the hurt was spending time with Morgan. He’d ended up spending six weeks at the lake house with Pepper and Morgan while May searched for a new apartment, so he could sleep in a room with a bed instead of on the couch in May’s living room. Not that he would’ve had a problem sleeping on the couch when he wasn’t really sleeping much anyway, but May hadn’t wanted that for him, and he hadn’t felt up to arguing. While he’d stayed there, May had visited as often as she could so he’d never felt abandoned.

And during his six weeks at the lake house, he’d grown a lot closer to Pepper and Morgan. After he’d left and moved back to the city with May, he still spent most of his free weekends up at the lake house. It felt like home there now in a similar but different way than the apartment he shared with May.

Honestly, he probably had Morgan to thank for not going off the deep end yet.

“Annnnnd princess mermaid flies in to save the day.” Peter said as he swung the mermaid doll down to knock over the villain Lego robot that stood amongst the arrangement of dolls and superheroes in the New York Lego city Morgan had set up.

“No Petey. You can’t do that.” Morgan whined, setting the robot back upright.

“Why not?”

“Because mermaids can’t fly.” She answered like it was obvious.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were being so literal. I mean you have a giant Lego robot rampaging Lego New York.”

“It could happen.” Morgan shrugged.

And…Peter couldn’t really argue with that logic. She was probably right, minus the Lego part.

“So if a giant robot is theoretically possible, why not a flying mermaid?” He asked, trying a different avenue of reasoning.

She scrunched her face up at him as if he’d suggested something incredibly stupid, an expression eerily similar to the one Tony used to make when Peter would try to defend his thought process after doing something dangerous.

“Because mermaids aren’t real.” She stated.

“How do you know?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Well everyone used to think aliens didn’t exist either, but now we know they do.” Peter argued.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed and she quirked her head to the side as she considered his words, another mirror expression of Tony’s.

“Fine. I guess you can play flying mermaid.” Morgan gave in with a nod.

Peter had to hold back his grin. Princess flying mermaid took to the sky again.

They played vanquish the evil Lego robot to keep him from taking over Lego New York game until Morgan got hungry.

“Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?” She asked as they put her toys away. Unlike her dad, she was very neat. Everything always had to be put back in its proper place. Definitely a Pepper trait.

“We had mac and cheese for lunch.” Peter reminded her. Not that it mattered. He knew if she had the choice she’d eat it until she turned into mac and cheese.

“Please.” She begged, clapsing her hands together and giving him her widest puppy eyes.

Peter didn’t stand a chance. “Ok but don’t tell you mom. If she asks we had peanut butter sandwiches with apple slices and carrot sticks.”

“Yes!” She threw her fist up in the air in a victory cheer.

Peter smiled. He didn’t truly think Pepper would mind. Every time he’d babysat before she’d been fine with whatever he fed her.

“Will you make the good kind?” Morgan asked as they made their way down the stairs toward the kitchen

“Didn’t I make the good kind for lunch?” He frowned. He didn’t know there was a good kind.

“No you made the real cheese kind. I want the one with the powder cheese.” Morgan explained.

“Does Mommy even buy that kind?” He asked as he opened the cupboard to look.

“Yeah but I only get it for special caseons.”

It took him a brief second to figure out what word she actually meant.

“Special occasions.” He corrected as he continued to search through the cupboard shelves.

“That’s what I said.”

Peter didn’t argue.

“And what makes this a special occasion?” He asked instead.

“You’re here.” She said. The cute thing about it was she wasn’t even trying to be sweet. She actually meant it. Something melted in his heart.

“But I’m here all the time.” He argued.

“So?”

Peter snorted. His eyes lit upon the box of macaroni and cheese he figured she wanted. It was the Kraft kind with Avengers shaped macaroni. He held it out to her. “Is this the one you want?”

“Yeah! That one.” She nodded eagerly.

“Ok. But don’t you think it’s a little weird eating Uncle Rhodey’s face?” He asked as he studied the box.

“No.” She answered as if she didn’t understand why anyone would ever consider that weird. “It’s not Uncle Rhodey. It’s War Machine.”

“Right.” Peter agreed, but he really didn’t see the difference. At least it was an up to date Avengers team box. No Ironman. Peter didn’t think he could’ve handled making it otherwise.

He placed the box aside on the counter while he filled a pot with water and set it on the stovetop burner to boil.

“Hey Petey?” Morgan asked, almost hesitantly, so he looked over to make sure she wasn’t getting into any kind of trouble.

She wasn’t. She sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, watching him.

“Yeah Morgan?” He left the pot of water on the stove and walked over so he stood at the countertop directly across from her.

“Can I ask you something?”

Peter didn’t point out that she just had. She seemed too serious and somewhat nervous, and he didn’t want to discourage her.

“Of course. You know you can always ask me anything.” Peter bent forward to rest his elbows on the countertop.

“Ok. Um the other day my friend Laney at preschool was talking about her big brother and all the stuff they do together and it sounded like what you and I do together so I asked Mommy if you're my brother and she said that you were like a son to Daddy so in a way you're my brother. But when I asked her if I could call you that and tell Laney at school about you being my brother she said I had to ask you first. So can I?” Morgan ended her rambling with a shy smile.

Peter blinked, his brain short circuiting as it tried to catch up.

“Y-your mom said it’d be ok?” He asked once he got his bearings.

“Yeah. That’s what I just said.” Morgan said impatiently. “So can I?”

Mr. Stark’s face came to mind. What would he think of this? Would he care? Would he think it was weird that his daughter was calling him her brother? But Morgan had said Tony had thought of him as a son, at least according to Pepper. And why would Pepper lie? So maybe Mr. Stark wouldn’t mind? Maybe it would be ok. Maybe he wasn’t overstepping. Maybe he could let himself have this one thing.

“I-I’d love that Morgan.” He said, choking up but trying to hide it. “I’d love to be your brother.”

“Ok.” Morgan grinned. “I can’t wait to tell Laney at preschool on Monday!”

She jumped down from the stool and came around the counter to hug him. He reflexively reciprocated, still in a state of semi shock. Morgan wanted him to be her brother. Considered him her brother.

With her arms still around his waist she looked up and innocently asked, “Can I have an ice cream bar?”

Peter knew she wasn’t allowed to have them until after dinner and having one now would probably ruin her appetite, but at the moment he’d give her absolutely anything she asked for.

“Sure.” He said with a smile.

She beamed and released him to run over to the freezer, but not before telling him, “I love you Petey.”

It was the first time she’d ever said that to him, and she’d said it as if it was nothing. As if saying she loved him and asking him to be her brother was as easy as breathing.

Peter’s breath caught, but he managed to open his mouth and say back, “I love you too Morgan.”

As Morgan rifled through the freezer, he turned away to face the simmering pot of water so Morgan wouldn’t see the tears forming in his eyes.

He appreciated every second with Morgan, but as nice and healing as the time he spent with her was, the moments were still temporary and as soon as he left, he found himself right back to his baseline numbness.

At least it beat the endless crying, which was all he’d done the first couple weeks after Tony’s death. Although the constant melancholy wasn’t exactly enjoyable either, but there was nothing he could do about it. He’d tried to fake happiness because he could tell his mood was taking a serious toll on May and his friends, but they could all see right through him. And he didn’t have the energy to pretend for long anyway.

“Tell me what I can do to make it better.” May had pleaded one night a couple weeks earlier.

“Nothing.” He’d answered honestly.

“Please Peter.”

“There’s nothing you can do. Nothing will ever make it better.” He’d resigned himself to that fact by now.

Tony had died to save them all.

And that same day Peter had ceased living.

He didn’t know why that was so hard for everyone to understand. At first they’d all given him space and time, but apparently now they thought he’d had a sufficient amount of both, and he should be starting to get better. Back to his old self.

Peter knew he’d never be that person again.

He sighed as he unlocked the door to the new two bedroom apartment May had found. It was still in Queens and still bigger than the one he’d lived most of his previous life in. His previous life.

At some point he’d started defining his life based on before and after Mr. Stark’s death. Before, he’d lived happily in Queens with his aunt and spent the evenings as Spiderman with an overprotective mentor on speed dial. After, he still lived with his aunt but in a different apartment in Queens and without a mentor. And he hadn’t touched his Spiderman suit once since the battle with Thanos.

“Honey is that you?” May called out from the kitchen as he walked in the door.

“Yeah.” He said back. That was another thing that had changed in the after. He didn’t really talk unless he had to anymore. It took too much mental energy.

“Oh good. I’m almost done with dinner.” She said. He could smell something pleasant cooking. No smoke sullied the air. “How was Ned’s?”

“Fine.”

He walked to his room and dropped his backpack by his desk. He and Ned had spent the evening completing all their weekend homework, so Peter had the entire weekend with nothing to do now. He’d discovered it was pretty easy to be a good student when he wasn’t spending over half the night out as a masked vigilante.

He eyed the closet where his Spiderman suits, the old and the new one, rested in a bag on the ground. He hadn’t so much as touched them since Mr. Stark died. He hadn’t even cleaned them. It hurt too much. As much as the people of Queens needed him, the thought of donning the suit without Mr. Stark around seemed like an ultimate betrayal. He knew it didn’t make any sense but that didn’t change how he felt.

He walked back out of his room, purposely ignoring the closet door.

“Hey May.” He said softly and gave his aunt a warm hug in greeting in the kitchen.

“Hey honey. How was your Friday?”

“Ok.” He shrugged and watched as she pulled a pan out of the oven.

“You made lasagna?” He asked in surprise. May never went through all the time and trouble to make her family recipe unless there was some special reason. “What’s the occasion?”

Unless maybe it was a trick to get him to eat more. His appetite, along with his happiness, had been non-existent.

“First we eat and then I’ll tell you.” May said as she placed the lasagna on top of the stove and started cutting into it.

She served up a huge piece for him.

He only managed to eat half of it.

“So why the lasagna tonight?” He asked again once he was done. The atmosphere during dinner hadn’t been stilted but it hadn’t been light either. He could tell May had something on her mind.

May stood and cleared their plates before disappearing down the hallway. When she came back, she held a large envelope. He could see the top of it had already been opened.

“What’s that?” He asked, anxiety settling in his stomach at the look on May’s face.

“It’s for you.” May explained. “It came while you were…gone, and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it to you, but I don’t think there’s ever going to be a right moment...so I thought tonight was just as good a night as any.”

Peter frowned.

May handed the envelope to him and he flipped it over to read the front of it. It was addressed to him, and in the upper corner of it, MIT’s emblem was printed.

He froze.

“Is this—” He broke off from asking May and pulled the papers out instead.

Dear Mr. Parker,
It is with our greatest pleasure that we extend to you an offer of acceptance to the MIT class of 2019 through the early decision program.

“I got in.” He mumbled.

“You did.” May said and squeezed his shoulder. “I called the admissions department when you got back. They’re not rescinding any previous offers to applicants that returned from the Dusting. You get to go to MIT next fall. I’m so proud of you.”

Peter stared at the acceptance letter in front of him. He’d gotten into MIT. He should be ecstatic right now, but he still felt only nothing.

“Are you happy?” May asked after a long few seconds of silence.

“Yeah.” He said weakly. “It’s great.”

May sighed. “This was your dream baby.”

It had been.

It just didn’t seem that important anymore.

“I know.”

He set the stack of papers down on the table. He could go through them later.

“Tony was so proud of you.” May said hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if sharing that information would backfire on her.

“He knew?” Peter turned in his chair to look at her.

“Yeah. When I got it I didn’t-I couldn’t open it alone, so we opened it together.” May’s lips thinned. “It was…hard. We were both so proud of you, but you were gone…”

“Sorry.” He mumbled. He hadn’t meant to bring up bad memories for her.

“It’s ok.” May smiled sadly at him. She kissed the top of his head.

“Actually, speaking of Tony… I have something else for you.” May said cryptically and disappeared down the hallway again.

This time she came back with a Saks bag. Not exactly a store May frequented.

“It’s from Pepper.” May explained as she placed the bag in front of him. She must’ve seen his puzzled expression. “She thought Tony would want you to have it.”

Interest piqued, he opened the bag and pulled out a sweatshirt. He held it out in front of him. It was a grey hoodie with maroon MIT letters emblazoned across the chest. Mr. Stark’s. He’d seen him wear it before. As soon as he realized it, he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply. It even smelled like Mr. Stark. A mixture of his cologne with a hint of oil and ozone.

Even though he wasn’t cold, he pulled it on over his head. The sleeves were a little long and it was loose on him, but the evidence that it didn’t fit perfectly because it originally belonged to his mentor, only made it that much more special, like he was getting a hug from Mr. Stark through his hoodie. He’d trade MIT, the hoodie, everything, if he could get another actual hug from the man instead.

An instant later he burst into heavy sobs.

“Baby.” May whispered and moved quickly to hug him.

He buried his head into the corner of her neck and clung to her.

“This is supposed to be a happy time.” She whispered.

It didn’t matter what it was supposed to be.

Everything in his life was tainted with hurt.

Peter couldn’t even remember what happy felt like anymore.

“Mr. Stark no!” Peter yelled, trying his hardest to get to the man in time. Ironman had the gauntlet in his hand but he hadn’t snapped. Peter still had time. He just had to get there. He had to save him.

“Mr. Stark wait!” He screamed and tried to run faster but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to gain any ground.

The man lifted his hand.

“Wait! No!” Peter cried out desperately. But it was too late.

Thanos lunged at his mentor.

Mr. Stark snapped.

“No!” Peter wailed and fell to his hands and knees in despair, reaching one arm out toward the man. He’d failed. He’d been too late. Too late. Mr. Stark was gone.

Over his cries, he heard an unfamiliar voice yelling.

“Help! Someone!”

They were crying for help.

It sounded so close.

Peter’s head snapped up. Instead of the desolate battle ground, his eyes met the dark interior of his bedroom.

It was a dream. A nightmare.

But the wound of losing of Mr. Stark was fresh and reopened from it. He pressed the heels of his hands roughly into his eyes and stood. He knew from experience he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight even though his nightstand clock showed it was only 3:43AM.

“Help!” He heard a distant scream. His eyes snapped to his cracked window. The building heat was broken and superheating the entire building. Peter had been so hot before going to bed last night, he’d left the window open to let some cool December air in.

“Please! Help!” The distressed call made it to his ears again. He could tell the person was too far for someone with normal hearing to notice, but he wasn’t normal.

He sprinted to his closet and pulled out his Spiderman suit. The old familiar one, instead of the new one that only held the memory of fighting Thanos and watching Tony die. He slipped it on and escaped out the window before he gave himself a chance to second guess what he was doing. Someone was in trouble. He had to help.

“Hello Peter.” Karen greeted.

“Hey Karen.” He said back as he swung toward the cries for help.

“You have a new message waiting.” Karen informed. “Would you like to view it now?”

“Uh that’s great, but no. Um hold on, now’s not the best time Karen. I’ve got to help this lady first.” He said, not truly registering the meaning of his AI’s words. He was too focused on finding the woman screaming.

It only took another couple minutes to find her, and Peter couldn’t keep from raising an eyebrow under the mask.

She was young. Well, older than Peter, but most people were. She looked to be in her early twenties with chestnut hair and green eyes. Lips painted red. And she was very stuck. It looked like she’d been walking home and somehow tripped and got her foot stuck in a curb drain. He absorbed all this information as he landed in front of her. The only thing he couldn’t understand was why she couldn’t just pull her foot back out.

“Good evening ma’am. You appear to be um…stuck?” He asked. He wasn’t quite sure what the proper etiquette was in this type of situation.

“Oh thank god.” The lady said, relief clear. “I rolled my heel and it fell through here and now it’s-it’s caught on something inside and I can’t reach it to get it out.”

Huh. That sucked.

“Are you hurt?”

“No I’m ok I think. Just…stuck. And my foot’s starting to go numb.”

“Well let’s get you unstuck then.” Peter said, rubbing his hands together.

“Yes. Thank you. Really.”

“It’s no problem ma’am.” He said as he knelt down to peer into the grate to see what her shoe was stuck on. “That’s what I’m here for.”

His mask filtered out the darkness and he saw that somehow the strappy part of the woman’s heel had gotten twisted and stuck on a piece of blunt metal sticking out of the grate wall inside. The twisting made her shoe too tight to just pull off to get free and it was also the reason her foot was going numb since it was cutting off her circulation. Pure bad luck. But an easy enough fix.

“One second.” Peter said. “Just let me…”

He jammed his hand into the grate and managed to grab the piece of metal she was stuck on. When he got a good grip, he ripped it free from the cement side. With his super strength it came out as easy as pulling a toothpick from a cube of cheese.

“Got it.” He said as he untwisted the metal piece around the sling back. Once he freed the woman’s heel, he dropped the metal down the grate where it landed with a musical tink at the bottom.

“Oh that’s so much better.” The woman sighed. Peter helped guide her now free foot out of the grate. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at her under the mask and helped her stand, waiting to make sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. “Are you sure you’re ok? You can walk?”

She took a couple halting steps to make sure before nodding at him. “It’s a little sore, but I’m ok. My apartment’s right there.”

She pointed to the building only thirty feet away. “I think I’ll make it.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Peter offered an arm out to her and she took it after a couple seconds of hesitation.

“Ok. Thank you.”

He acted as her partial crutch until she got to her front door.

She let go of him and smiled shyly. “Thank you Spiderman.”

“It’s no problem.” He gave her a nod. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” She said and then turned her key into the lock and slipped inside the door.

Peter made sure she was safely inside before webbing up onto a nearby building. Time to go home. His excursion had taken less than thirty minutes. And he hadn’t ended up as a pile of sobbing goo on the floor after putting his Spiderman suit on like he’d been worried he would. And at least he’d done something with his sleeplessness instead of staring at the wall or his computer screen like he’d been doing every other night before.

He climbed quietly back into his open window.

“Peter I’d like to remind you that you still have an unwatched video message.” Karen spoke up before he had a chance to pull off his mask.

“Oh. Right.” He’d almost forgotten.

“Would you like me to play it for you?”

“Who’s it from?” He asked, but the answer came to mind as soon as he asked it. Who else could leave a message with Karen?

“It’s from Mr. Stark.” Karen answered. The confirmation still hit him like a punch to the gut.

Peter sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Would you like me to play it Peter?” Karen asked again.

Would he?

Yes. Hearing his mentor would be like getting another moment with him from beyond the grave.

And no. Because he wasn’t really there. Peter couldn’t actually talk to him. And wouldn’t that hurt too much? Maybe he should save it and listen to it later? Some other time when he was more…stable. Or maybe never? Maybe just knowing it existed was enough?

It wasn’t.

“Yes.” He whispered. “Play it Karen.”

The view screen of his mask faded from showing the background of his room to showing Mr. Stark.

Peter inhaled sharply at the sight of the man.

“Hey kid.” Mr. Stark said with a small smile. “Thought I’d leave this for you just in case. Better to be safe than sorry and cover all my bases and all that jazz. Hopefully you never see it. Anywho, we’re about to go do something that’s a little crazy. Even for me. But I think it has a chance to actually work, so…we’ve got to try. And if you’re watching this, then I guess it worked, and we did what we set out to do, which is…great.”

The man paused to rub at his eyes before continuing, “But…I guess it also means I didn’t make it. Sorry kid. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging. But the risk comes with the territory you know, and this was something that had to be done. So…try not to be too mad at me for it, ok?”

Tony stared back at him from the screen, contrite, for a couple seconds. It seemed so real Peter could almost convince himself the man was actually there, could actually see him.

“And try not to beat yourself up over it.” Mr. Stark raised a finger at him. “I know how you are. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing you could’ve done. Because let’s be honest, if someone had to do something stupidly self sacrificing, it was going to be me. We both know how I like to be the center of attention. Hopefully I went out with a bang. Sorry. Too soon?”

Peter let out a little snort through his tears. It definitely was.

“Anyway,” Tony sighed, “I could take this time to tell you all kinds of cheesy mushy stuff like how much I’ve missed you these past five years, how much I love you, how you’ve somehow wormed your way into becoming like a pseudo son to me, blah blah blah, but…I’m not going to do that. It’s not really my MO, you know?”

Tony sniffed and glanced at something off screen for a moment before turning back to Peter. “So sorry. No big emotional good bye for you.”

Mr. Stark shot him a smile again before sobering and continuing, “But seriously kid, I’m sorry I had to go…but I want you to know I don’t regret it. Not if it means I got you back. And let’s be real, saving half the universe isn’t too shabby of a way to go. Kind of a nice cherry on top of the whole hero career…”

His mentor looked away again and sighed heavily. His bleak expression gave away that he wasn’t really as at peace with the whole dying thing as he was trying to portray.

Mr. Stark looked back at him and tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just remember Underoos, now that I’m no longer around to provide you with my infinite wisdom, stick with the guidelines I gave you before. Don’t do anything I would do and definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, just keep trying to stay in that little grey area and you should be fine.”

Peter let out a little laugh at the familiar line of advice. He was surprised Mr. Stark remembered it.

Tony stared into the screen for another long few seconds and then gave a decisive nod and a half smile.

“You’ll be all right.” He said confidently. “Bye kid.”

“No wait—” Peter pleaded before his mind reminded him it was pointless. Mr. Stark wasn’t really there.

His mentor disappeared and the view in front of him transitioned back to his bedroom.

He ripped the mask off before Karen had a chance to say anything.

He’d gotten his good bye.

It hadn’t helped.

He stared numbly at his mask on the ground. Mr. Stark’s words reverberating through his brain. I missed you. I love you. Pseudo son. You’ll be all right.

But he wouldn’t.

Chapter Text

“What do you want me to make for dinner?” May asked from the kitchen.

“I’m not hungry.” Peter answered in a monotone as he sat on the couch staring blankly at the television. It was on but he didn’t have the attention span or the energy to watch it. He had no idea what was even playing.

“You need to eat something.” May argued. “I know you didn’t eat lunch and all you ate for breakfast was that granola bar I had to force down your throat.”

“I’m not hungry.” He said again, more forcefully.

May sighed heavily and walked back into the living room. He didn’t turn away from the TV.

“Honey you need to eat.”

Peter kept staring straight ahead.

“Tony wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” May said. Why was everyone telling him that lately?

“It doesn’t matter what he’d want. He’s dead.” He said, voice emotionless. The words should’ve hurt to say but they didn’t. He was too numb. Everything felt completely numb.

“Honey.” May said sadly and sat down next to him. “Look at me please.”

Peter sighed but did as she asked and turned to look at her.

“I know you’re hurting but you still have to take care of yourself.” May said with sad eyes. “You need to eat.”

She cupped his cheek. “You’ve been losing weight baby.”

He knew that. He hadn’t weighed himself but he’d noticed his clothes had started fitting looser.

“I haven’t been hungry.” He argued weakly.

“I know honey and that’s what grief does, but you still have to eat. If not for yourself, then for me? Ok? Can you try?”

He nodded. He hated making her worry about him.

“Thank you.” May smiled. “Come here.”

She pulled him into a hug and he returned it without hesitation.

“I just miss him.” He whispered the confession into her hair.

“I know.” May whispered back.

She kissed the side of his cheek and said knowingly, “But it’ll get better. You know it will.”

He knew they were both thinking about Ben. About how hard it’d been after his death too. How neither of them had wanted to eat. How pretty much every day had been a struggle. How it had hurt so much it’d felt like slowly burning alive. But somehow they’d survived it. It had gotten better. Peter knew this hurt had to eventually get better too, but he couldn’t make himself believe it.

“Ok.” May said as she let go of him and sat back. “How about I make spaghetti for dinner? You like spaghetti.”

She looked so earnest, so hopeful he’d eat. He couldn’t disappoint her.

“Actually, can we order Thai?” He asked hesitantly. “It sounds…kind of good.”

May beamed. “Absolutely. Thai it is. You want your usual?”

He nodded. He figured he could choke down some Pad See Ew if it’d make her feel better.

She got up to grab her phone from the kitchen counter and he called softly after her, “Thanks May.”

“No problem sweetie.” She said back.

He and May had started eating Thai after Ben had died. It’d been one of the only foods his uncle hated, so they’d never really eaten it. It’d been safe from triggering memories. He was pretty sure it was all they’d been able to stomach for weeks after his death. And then, over time, it’d become his and May’s thing. Eating Thai. He’d almost forgotten that’s how it had started. It was the same reason he and May never ate fried chicken anymore. Because it’d been Ben’s favorite. They never talked about. They just never ate it again. He wondered if there were any foods he wouldn’t be able to eat now because they’d remind him too much of Tony. As soon as he thought it, the answer immediately came to mind. Shawarma.

He didn’t know how people reasonably expected him to move on when reminders of what he’d lost kept popping up everywhere. He ached constantly with a phantom pain, like he’d had a limb cut off and forgot he’d lost it until he went to use it again and it was gone.

Something funny would happen at school that he knew Mr. Stark would enjoy and he’d think he needed to tell him about it, but then he’d remember he couldn’t. He’d never get a chance to tell the man funny stories or hear him laugh again.

After school, he’d walk down the steps and reflexively look for Happy’s car because for a split second he’d forget there’d never be any more workshop evenings or weekends hanging out with Mr. Stark.

He’d pull out his phone on the subway on the way to school in the morning and click on Tony’s name, ready to send him a morning message like he always did, before he’d remember. No matter how many messages he sent Mr. Stark, he’d never get a reply. So he’d put his phone away and spend the rest of the ride struggling to hold back tears.

He wondered if Tony had gone through something similar when he’d been gone, but he didn’t have the heart to ask anyone about it. Knowing wouldn’t help anyway, it’d probably only make it hurt worse.

Months passed.

It didn’t get better.

He barely ate except for when someone forced him to. Food turned to ash in his mouth. Nothing tasted good. His appetite remained non-existent. He spent more days than not dizzy and not quite with it. He knew he was still losing weight. His clothes had gone from a little loose to borderline falling off of him. He knew he couldn’t keep going on like this. But he also didn’t care.

The suffocating loss and memories hounded him all day and the nightmares and insomnia haunted him all night. He went through the motions at school, somehow keeping his grades up amidst his fog. It was probably the main reason no one had staged an actual intervention yet. They probably figured if he could still do well in school, he must not be as bad as he seemed. He was falling apart, but somehow still keeping it together.

He spent more and more time out as Spiderman. He figured if he wasn’t going to sleep, like he hadn’t been able to tonight, he might as well do something useful. He liked to think it’s what Mr. Stark would’ve wanted. For him to keep fighting the fight. To keep helping people. When the man couldn’t be there to do it himself. Or maybe that was just Peter’s wishful thinking to alleviate the guilt he felt whenever he donned the suit Mr. Stark had made for him.

“Peter it is now three hours past the curfew Mr. Stark set for you.” Karen reminded him cheerfully, interrupting his morose thoughts as he sat on the roof ledge of one of the taller buildings in Midtown. He’d been patrolling all over the city lately instead of exclusively in Queens because he’d been going out as Spiderman more and wanted to help as many people as possible. It wasn’t at all because he felt an odd magnetic pull toward Mr. Stark’s old Tower.

“I know Karen.” Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s not like it matters. There’s no one you can tattletale to anymore.”

Silence in response.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“I recommend you return home to sleep. Due to your fatigue, your reaction times have been 0.2 seconds slower tonight than usual. I have noted a gradual progressive increase in this delay over the past week.” Karen told him.

Sounded about right. He wasn’t surprised. It’d been a long night. A long week really. He’d barely been sleeping and it was currently three in the morning.

When he didn’t respond, Karen added, “I am concerned for your wellbeing Peter.”

“Yeah well join the club.” He muttered. It’s all he heard from everyone lately. They were worried. They wanted to talk. They wanted to help. And now apparently even the AI in his suit was in on it.

“Your safety is my primary objective.” Karen continued. “It has not escaped my notice that lately your behavior has become increasingly erratic and you have been taking more unacceptable risks.”

Peter snorted.

“I’m fine Karen.” He lied.

She didn’t give him any sort of rebuttal even though she had to know he was lying. He didn’t know if that was better or worse.

He sighed and conceded, “All right. Fine. I’m going home. Happy?”

“Very.” Karen said as he stood.

Could AI’s be ‘very’ happy? Could they even be happy at all? Karen sure seemed like she had emotions, but it was probably all just a trick of programming. Mr. Stark’s genius incarnated.

He took a breath and jumped. He webbed from building to building mindlessly. Because of the height of the buildings in Midtown, he was so high up it almost felt like flying. He should like it. He should feel something. But he didn’t. Why couldn’t he feel anything? He just wanted to feel something. Anything besides this accursed numbness.

He released his web but instead of shooting off the next one to attach to the subsequent building, he held off. And let himself fall.

“Peter is there something wrong with your webshooter?” Karen asked after only a second of freefall.

He didn’t respond. He closed his eyes as his body sliced soundlessly through the air. He still felt nothing. No thrill of excitement or enjoyment. Only the familiar all encompassing numbness.

The ground grew closer. It happened slowly but fast at the same time.

“Peter.” Karen warned.

Still nothing. No jolt of fear.

His viewscreen started flashing warnings. About terminal velocity and how fatal collision was imminent.

“Peter you must deploy your webshooter.” Karen ordered, practically yelling. He didn’t even know she could do that.

He supposed he should. He straightened his arm out in front of him. And hesitated. He didn’t actually have to. He could just…not.

He could be done. Just give up. He could see Mr. Stark again.

But May would be sad. And if he did see Mr. Stark, how could he ever explain himself? Heroes didn’t kill themselves. Unless they needed to do it in order to save the world. And then they called it sacrifice.

“Peter!” Karen yelled in warning.

He gasped. He didn’t actually want to die. He didn’t. He fumbled jerkily with his webshooter and managed to shoot it in time to catch onto a nearby building. As it tightened, the force yanked his shoulder painfully.

He let out a small cry. But the web held and he swung through the trough of the arc. As he started swinging back up again, he realized how dangerously close he was to the ground. There weren’t a lot of options for where to attach another web. He shot one out frantically at a nearby building but in the next second he saw the trajectory would bring him through an alley to smash straight into a brick wall at the end of it.

There was only one thing he could do.

He was moving too fast and only a few feet off the ground as he released his web. He landed on the asphalt and rolled almost the entire distance of the alleyway before he slammed into a dumpster near the end and came to an abrupt stop.

Ouch. He groaned. Everything hurt. But he wasn’t dead. His chest heaved in huge gulps of air. He turned his head and saw he’d left a huge dent in the dumpster, nearly crushing it in half. Sorry New York waste management.

He stayed on his back, gasping, trying to catch his breath like a fish out of water as he stared up at the black night sky. Karen remained conspicuously silent. She was probably mad at him. Her only communication with him was an injury report that flashed across the screen. He glanced at it briefly and dismissed it. Nothing life threatening. His momentary lapse wasn’t going to end up killing him after all.

Adrenaline fled his body, leaving him shaky, as the reality of what had almost just happened hit him. He’d almost died. He’d really almost just killed himself. Holy shit. His entire body started vibrating with fine tremors as a delayed fear response washed over him.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up past his lips. He’d almost just died, but he finally felt something for the first time in forever. Even if that something was terror. Once the laughter started, he couldn’t seem to get it to stop. Was this what a mental breakdown felt like?

As he giggled nonsensically at the sky, he realized some part of him was still waiting for Mr. Stark’s fear filled angry phone call. Waiting for the man to tell him he was on his way because he’d gotten hurt. Waiting for him to tell him off because he’d done something stupid. Again. But Mr. Stark wasn’t coming. Because Mr. Stark was gone.

And it’d been almost six months now since Mr. Stark’s death. Rationally he knew the man was gone. He knew it. He did. The moments of forgetting were getting fewer and farther between. But for some reason it didn’t seem to solidly hit him until now. Until this moment.

Mr. Stark didn’t know what he’d almost just done and that he was lying here bleeding in an alley. No one knew. No one was coming to help him. Spiderman was all alone.

The crazed laughing caught in his throat and the next second he was crying. Deep, gut wrenching sobs. He rolled over onto his side and curled into a ball even though it aggravated his injuries. He cried and cried and cried.

It’d been almost six months, and Peter Parker knew that Tony Stark was gone but this was the moment Spiderman truly realized it as well.

It felt like losing Mr. Stark all over again.

The next night, Peter laid in bed, wide awake. He’d gone to his room two hours earlier but sleep had evaded him. He couldn’t patrol because his entire body was still one giant bruise and he was pretty sure he still had a few broken bones and a concussion after his crash into the alley the night before.

He’d thought about going out anyway but after his brush with death yesterday, going out this injured seemed too close to trying to repeat the same scenario in a different way. He stared tiredly at the ceiling. He’d been a zombie all day, unable to focus. Had he really tried to kill himself last night? Or had it been a mistake? A brief error in judgement?

He heard May on the phone in the living room.

“I don’t know what to do Happy. He’s not coping. I’ve tried talking to him, but he won’t talk to me.” May said quietly, obviously trying to keep from being overheard. “It’s been months and he’s not getting any better. He’s not sleeping. I can barely get him to eat. He’s still not-he’s not…Peter.”

May fell silent. Happy was probably saying something back. Peter rolled over and tried to bury his head under his pillow. He didn’t want to hear this. Stupid super hearing. May knew he had it, but she probably thought he was asleep. Rightly so. He should be asleep. He wished he could sleep. He hated this new insomnia that had plagued him ever since the battle with Thanos.

At first he’d wondered if it was a side effect of coming back from the snap, a result of some kind of mistake when his molecules had coalesced back together again. But no one else had a similar problem. Ned still slept like a baby. So he knew it wasn’t from that. It had to be from the trauma of everything, which was also probably the reason why what little sleep he did get now was usually nightmare ridden.

“I know. I know. I just…I don’t know how to help him.” He heard May say and he could hear the tremble in her voice. She was trying not to cry. God. He sat up and grabbed his headphones off his nightstand. Before he could hear anything else he plugged them into his phone and started blasting his music, washing out any more of her conversation.

He told himself it was because she deserved her privacy, not because he didn’t need any more guilt piled onto him for things he couldn’t seem to help.

He closed his eyes and tried in vain to fall asleep as the music pounded in his ears.

Peter laid on the couch, watching something mindless on TV. He wasn’t even sure what it was. May had been watching it before she left for work and once he’d flopped down on the couch after breakfast, he’d been too exhausted to search for the remote to change it, so he’d just left it on. Fatigue plagued him. The three hours of fragmented sleep he’d gotten last night definitely hadn’t been enough.

Whatever the show was, it was boring. He closed his eyes. Maybe he could rest on the couch. Maybe a change in scenery would make a difference and he’d be able to sleep here. But the moment he decided to try it, someone knocked on the door.

Peter ignored it. He wasn’t expecting anyone. A delivery person probably had the wrong apartment. They’d figure it out. Half a minute passed and when Peter figured the person had left, the knock came again. Dammit. He was actually going to have to get up.

He dragged himself to his feet and trudged over to the door. The knock resounded again.

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” He grumbled as he unlocked the door and opened it.

And came face to face with Happy.

Peter frowned. “Um…hi?”

“You going to invite me in?” Happy complained, impatient.

“Uh yeah sure. Come in.” He stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. “Um did I…know you were coming over? And forget?”

He became keenly aware that he was still dressed in his flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt even though it was almost noon. He hadn’t brushed his teeth yet either. Or his hair. He ran a hand through it, trying to calm the wild waves.

“No kid. Your aunt asked me to come over.” Happy answered as they both stood awkwardly just inside the doorway.

“She did? Why?”

“She’s worried about you.” Happy said, not mincing the words.

Right. May had called Happy last night. He didn’t think that meant the man would actually come over.

“And how’s that your problem?” Peter scoffed and walked away, back toward the couch. He didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with May. Not with Happy. Not with anyone.

“Because it is.” Happy said, following him. “Anything to do with you is my problem.”

“Why?” He sniped and flopped heavily back down onto the couch.

“You know why.” Happy answered gravely and Peter looked away.

Happy kept staring down at him from where he stood, arms crossed. If he’d been able to feel anything lately it might’ve made him feel vulnerable, but it didn’t.

“Well don’t worry, I relieve you of any misplaced responsibility you feel towards me.” Peter said.

Happy didn’t move.

“That means you can go.” Peter grit out at him.

“I’m not leaving.” Happy said.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You know you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to pretend to care about me all of a sudden out of some kind of weird guilt complex.”

“I’m not pretending.” Happy replied, sounding angry about it.

“You don’t have to lie to me and you don’t have to do whatever this is.” Peter waved a hand between them. “He’s not actually here. He’s not going to know if you help me or not. Because he’s dead.”

Happy honest to god flinched, but he recovered quickly.

“You’re right.” Happy nodded. “Tony’s dead. And it sucks. I get it kid. I do. You think I’m not hurting? You think you’re the only one?”

Peter glared at his feet, avoiding looking at Happy.

Happy sighed.

“I know it’s hard.” The man continued. “But there’s nothing we can do about it. We have to figure out how to move on. You have to figure out how to move on.”

“Maybe I can’t.” Peter said, voice dead.

Happy sighed heavily again and sat down on the coffee table, leaning forward so they were almost face to face and Peter was forced to meet his gaze.

“You think this is what he would’ve wanted?” Happy asked. “For you to live out the rest of your life miserable?”

Peter shrugged.

“Because it’s not. I can tell you that for sure. He only wanted the best for you. He cared about you kid. And by doing this, by refusing to even try to move on, you’re spitting his sacrifice in the face.”

He knew Happy was right. He knew he couldn’t keep going like this. It wasn’t living. But he didn’t know what to do about it.

I almost killed myself the other night. It was on the tip of his tongue to confess. It felt like the right moment, the best way to hammer home how bad he was doing, but he held back. He couldn’t tell Happy that. Everyone would freak out. And he had it under control. He did. He hadn’t gone out as Spiderman since.

“I don’t know how to move on.” He admitted instead, voice cracking. He looked down at his lap, embarrassed. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

He dropped his face into his hands. The tears were back.

Happy moved to sit on the couch next to him and tugged him against his side in a one armed hug, hand tangling roughly in his hair.

“We’ll help you.” Happy said softly. “We’re here for you kid. You’re not alone. But you have to talk to us. You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”

“I just miss him so much.” He sniffled.

“I know. God I know kid. I miss him too. Everyday.” Happy said, sounding close to tears himself.

Peter turned his head into Happy’s chest and sniffled, letting Happy hold him. They sat there together for a few minutes until Peter gathered himself well enough to pull away.

“Thanks.” He mumbled quietly and ducked his head.

Happy ruffled his hair and stood. “Come on. Go get dressed and I’ll take you out to lunch. My treat.”

Peter gave him a shadow of a smile and got up to go change.

When he came back out in jeans and an old AC/DC t-shirt he’d pilfered from Tony’s closet a few weeks ago, Happy was waiting for him by the door.

“Nice shirt.” Happy commented with a little nod of his head.

“Thanks.” Peter said. “I stole it.”

“I know.” Happy opened the door for him and they left.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked after he’d locked the door behind them.

“You tell me. What sounds good?”

“Cheeseburgers?” He suggested. For some reason that sounded amazing right now. It was the first time in a long time he could remember having an actual appetite for something.

Happy snorted but his eyes glistened. “Of course. Cheeseburgers it is. I know just the place.”

“Thanks Happy.” He said earnestly. He hoped the man knew he wasn’t thanking him only for the cheeseburgers.

Happy didn’t respond, but he slung a loose arm around Peter’s shoulders as they walked out together. It wasn’t the same as when Tony did it, but it gave him some level of comfort all the same. Maybe just maybe Happy was right and he could eventually figure out how to be ok again.

Chapter Text

“Petey!” Morgan cried out in excitement at the sight of him.

“Hey Morgan.” He smiled as she sprinted across the room toward him. Before she could collide with his legs, he leaned down and caught her under the armpits, lifting her into a hug.

“Happy birthday.” He said into her hair.

She pulled back and grinned at him. “Thanks! I’m five now.”

She held her hand out, all five fingers extended.

“I know. You’re growing up so fast.” He said as he adjusted his hold on her and balanced her against his hip with one arm. With his super strength, she was as light as a feather.

“Did you bring me a present?” Her eyes twinkled, matching the dusting of glitter on her pink cheeks and the sparkly butterfly headband in her hair. Her entire being glowed with light and happiness. Peter thought she was just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

He let out a little laugh.

“Morgan.” Pepper chastised her from across the room.

“Of course I brought you a present.” Peter said, pointing to the wrapped package he’d dropped by the door when she’d come running at him. “What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t give you the bestest birthday present ever?”

“Can I open it?” She asked excitedly.

“Um…” He looked to Pepper. He hadn’t been to any little kid birthday parties since he was one himself, but he was pretty sure there was a protocol around when to open presents.

“We’re opening presents later Morgan. After cake, remember.” Pepper said, saving him, as she walked over.

“Okaaaaaay.” Morgan said as if the very act of waiting was causing her undue suffering.

“Hi Peter.” Pepper welcomed him. She leaned over to press her cheek against his and gave him a quick kiss in greeting. “How are you?”

“I’m ok.” He lied. “How about you?”

“I’m ok.” She said back. He wondered if she was lying too. She didn’t look upset, but maybe today was keeping her too busy to think about much else. Still, he couldn’t imagine it was easy to get through her daughter’s first birthday party without her father.

“Where’s May?” The woman asked curiously.

“Oh she had to fly to Boston for a work emergency early this morning. If she gets back in time she’s going to try to make it, but it’s not looking good. Sorry.” Peter apologized. May worked a lot now, and frequently traveled for it. He was proud of how well she was doing but it was also something he hadn’t quite adjusted to yet.

“I understand.” She smiled softly. He was sure she did, being the CEO of Stark Industries and all. “Did you drive up by yourself?”

“Yeah.” He returned the smile.

“Wow. When did you get so grown up?” Pepper teased.

He shrugged. Morgan started to squirm impatiently so he set her back down and she took off across the living room toward Happy. They caught each others eyes and man nodded at him. Peter gave him a small smile in return, thinking of the effort Happy had made to talk to him take him out for a cheeseburger yesterday.

“I didn’t know you got your license. Did May take you?” Pepper asked, meaning well, trying to make conversation.

“Um no. Actually I got it a few days before I…you know…” He trailed off. Before he’d turned to dust went unsaid.

Pepper nodded. “May never mentioned it.”

“Oh. Well, um, Tony was actually the one that took me.” Peter explained. “It was kind of a surprise.”

They both knew Tony had been the one to teach him how to drive after May had given up and told the man that Peter was hopeless. It’d been like a challenge for him. After the first outing, Peter knew he’d realized he’d bitten off more than he could chew, but in typical Tony Stark fashion, he’d refused to admit it. So he’d kept taking Peter out and teaching him. And eventually Peter went from a dangerously terrible driver to a not so great but passable one.

“Brake Peter.” Tony said tersely.

Peter picked his foot up.

“Brake!” Tony yelled, tensing and pressing his own foot down on an imaginary brake as the back of the car in front of them rapidly approached.

Peter pressed his foot down and their car shot forward even faster.

“No! Other pedal!”

“Oh shit! I mean shoot!” Peter pulled his foot off the gas pedal but before he could try to find the brake pedal, Tony reached out and pushed the Audi’s emergency brake button, holding it down as the car squealed to a stop, a mere foot from the car stopped at the red light in front of them.

Peter looked over at Mr. Stark, eyes wide, and saw the same expression reflected on his mentor’s face.

Tony angled his head down so he could look at Peter over the top of his sunglasses. “You’re a terrible driver kid.”

“I told you!”

They stared at each other for another couple long seconds before Mr. Stark’s lip twitched into a smile and they both burst into laughter. By the time they’d stopped laughing, the light had turned green and the car in front of them had driven off. Peter lightly pressed the gas pedal and the car started moving again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mr. Stark asked.

“Um driving?” He answered as he looked over at the man.

“Uh-uh. First of all, watch the road.” Mr. Stark pointed to the windshield where he should be looking instead. “And second of all, pull over. You’re done.”

Peter listened and pulled to the side of the road as soon as he was through the intersection. He held the brake pedal down. The car only jerked slightly as it came to a complete stop. Peter put the car in park. Ha. Not so hard.

“Ok now get out. I’m driving.” Mr. Stark ordered as he unbuckled his seat belt.

“But you said I could drive to the compound.” Peter protested even though he didn’t really want to anymore.

“That was before you almost destroyed my car.” Mr. Stark said as he opened the passenger door and climbed out. “You’re clearly not ready for this yet.”

Ouch. Although not untrue.

Mr. Stark walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side and tugged Peter’s door open.

“Come on. Out.” The man said as he gestured for him to get out.

Peter unbuckled his seat belt and got out. Tony climbed into the vacant driver’s seat and Peter walked over to the passenger’s side and got in. Tony adjusted the mirrors and glanced over to make sure Peter was buckled up before he peeled away, effortlessly gliding through the Queens traffic on the route to the compound.

“So…you’re not going to teach me how to drive anymore?” Peter tried to keep the dejected tone out of his voice. May had already declared him hopeless. If Mr. Stark wasn’t going to help him, he had no clue how he was ever going to learn to drive so he could get his license. Not that he needed it living in New York City, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Of course I’m going to teach you.” Mr. Stark said. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“But you just said…” Peter trailed off hesitantly.

“I said you weren’t ready for city driving yet kid.” His mentor glanced over at him. “We’re going to start with something a little simpler. There are some nice wide open empty roads up by the compound. Much better for learning. I didn’t realize you barely knew the difference between the gas and the brake pedal or we wouldn’t have even tried in the city first.”

“Hey I know the difference between the brake pedal and the gas pedal.”

Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow at him, clearly skeptical. “Do you?”

“Well I mean in theory I do.” Peter argued. “It’s just…the practical aspect might need a little work?”

Tony let out a surprised laugh.

“And that’s why we’re going to start somewhere easier. Remember you’ve got to learn to crawl before you can swim or however that saying goes.” Mr. Stark shrugged.

Peter smiled at the butchering of the phrase. Knowing Tony, it’d been purposeful just to get a grin out of him. “Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right. And don’t you forget it.”

“Whatever you say Mr. Stark.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Exactly.” The man smirked. “Whatever I say. And I say don’t worry because you’re going to get it kiddo. Especially since you have such an amazing mentor teaching you now.”

Peter snorted.

And he did get it. Eventually. After a lot of swearing and near misses.

And learning to drive from Mr. Stark taught him a lot about the man. He was a lot more patient than he pretended to be. Almost infinitely patient. Or maybe he was just that way with Peter.

“Peter?” Pepper interrupted his thoughts.

“Yeah? Sorry.” He focused back on her face.

“It’s all right.” Pepper smiled reassuringly. “I just said that sounds like it was a nice surprise.”

“It was.” He agreed but couldn’t bring himself to smile back.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Pepper asked in concern, hand settling on his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m just a little thirsty.” He deflected, still trying to banish the memory of learning to drive with Mr. Stark. “Can I grab something to drink?”

Pepper stared intently into his eyes before nodding. “The drinks are on the counter in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

Peter took his chance to escape.

“But no alcohol.” She called after him. “You’re not that grown up yet.”

He turned around briefly just so she’d see him roll his eyes, and then ducked into the kitchen.

The counter was filled with snacks and beverages. He really wanted to take one of the juice boxes, but he knew someone would make some comment about his age if they caught him with it, so he picked up a bottle of water instead.

He sipped on his water and holed up in the kitchen for as long as he could until Rhodey found him and dragged him out to play a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Watching the group of Avengers, minus Cap since apparently he’d decided to abandon everyone to live out his own perfect life in the past and was now like eighty or something, play pin the tail on the donkey was hilarious. Seeing Sam stab Rhodey in the ass with a tail accidentally on purpose almost made Peter laugh. Almost.

After the games, Pepper declared it was time for cake and ice cream and all the kids ran into the other room, the adults following at a slower pace. Peter lagged behind along with Clint and Scott. They looked as tired as he felt. Entertaining kids was a lot of work.

“How are you doing kid?” Clint asked. They’d fought together and he’d been at Mr. Stark’s funeral, but Peter hadn’t really spoken to the man much before today. Peter liked him. He seemed down to earth. But he didn’t know him well enough to answer his question even remotely honestly.

He shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Clint gave him a look like he wanted to call bullshit but wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

“Aren’t you going to thank him?” Scott asked Clint before the man got a chance to say anything else.

Clint glared at Scott and shook his head.

“Thank…who?” Peter asked. “Me? For what?”

“You’re the reason Clint got his kids back.” Scott explained and took a sip of the bottle of beer in his hand.

“What?” Peter frowned. That made no sense. Peter hadn’t even been around when the Avengers had gone back in time to get the stones to reverse the snap. Scott must be confused.

“He doesn’t know?” Scott asked Clint in surprise.

“Lang.” Clint said in warning, but the other man didn’t catch it.

“You’re the reason we got everyone back.” Scott said with a hint of excitement.

“I’m…I’m not.” Peter argued, shaking his head.

“Yeah you are. See, we came out here to ask Stark for help with the whole time travel thing, but he kicked us to the curb and said it was impossible. Made fun of me for my Back to the Future references. Anyway, the point is, he wasn’t even going to try. But then he changed his mind and he figured it out. He showed up at the compound the next day and bang, we went back to fix things.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Peter’s frown deepened.

“You’re the reason he changed his mind.” Scott explained.

“Lang.” Clint said, sharper this time.

“Pepper told us.” Scott continued, oblivious to the other man’s attempts to get him to stop. “Once Stark realized there might be a chance to get you back, to save you, he changed his mind. He decided to try to figure out the whole time travel thing. And he did it.”

“What?” Peter whispered, shock hitting him hard. He felt sick.

“You were the catalyst. You’re kind of the reason we were able to save half the universe. No one told you? You really didn’t know?”

“Scott.” Clint snapped. “Shut up.”

“What?” Scott asked, clueless. “What’s the matter?”

“Kid—” Clint reached a hand toward him. Peter hadn’t even noticed he’d started backing out of the room.

“I-I have to go to the bathroom.” He blurted out and then turned and ran. He ran away from Clint and Scott. Away from the party. Away from the damning truth. Instead of going to the bathroom, he shot out the front door and sprinted off into the woods.

He was the reason Mr. Stark had figured out the time travel thing. He was the reason they’d gone back in time, the reason they’d gotten the stones, the reason Mr. Stark had snapped. The reason Mr. Stark died. And everyone knew it but him. Pepper knew it. Oh god. How could the woman invite him over to her house, give him his own room, and let her daughter call him her brother, when he was the very reason she was fatherless? It was all his fault. If it weren’t for him, Mr. Stark would still be alive.

Tears blurred his vision as sprinted away as if a monster was chasing him. It kind of felt like there was, but it wasn't one he could escape.

He ran as hard as he could, not even noticing the cold as his feet crunched over the snow covered ground. He wasn’t exactly in his right mind so he had no idea how far he would’ve ended up running if he hadn’t tripped over a log. His spidey sense flared in warning, but it was too late. He tried to stop but his leg still hit wrong and the momentum sent him hurtling to the ground and he tumbled over a hill into a small ravine. On the way down his head bounced off a rock and everything went black.

“Hey kid.” Mr. Stark stood over him.

Peter was lying on the ground, blinking up dazedly at the man.

“Are you going to lay there all day or are you going to get up and actually do something?” His mentor asked. The harshness of the words was tempered by the amused smirk on the man’s face.

“Um…I…” He frowned. What was he supposed to be doing? Where was he? He turned his head and instantly recognized the rubble strewn battlefield where they’d fought Thanos. But why was he on the ground? And where was everyone else?

“Mr. Stark?” He looked back at the man, but he was gone.

Peter sat up and grabbed his head when it pounded in protest. He blinked to clear his vision and saw Mr. Stark about thirty feet away. The man was walking away, easily making his way over all the rocks in his dress shoes and business suit. Why wasn’t he wearing his Ironman armor? What was going on?

“Mr. Stark!” He called out after him but the man didn’t even turn. Peter clumsily pushed himself to his feet. “Tony! Wait!”

That made the man pause. Mr. Stark had harassed him constantly about calling him Tony instead of Mr. Stark, but Peter still usually called him Mr. Stark because it was habit and he kind of liked that it annoyed the man. But he did call him Tony sometimes and it never failed to give him the man’s full attention.

“Please wait!” Peter stumbled a few more steps forward having a much harder time crossing the uneven ground.

“Come get me.” Tony said to him. At least he was facing Peter now.

“I am. That’s what I’m doing.” Peter said, annoyed as he tripped over a rock and almost fell. What the hell? Were his spider powers broken? Why was the ground defeating him? It felt like he was trying to walk through wet cement.

“No Peter.” Tony said and the seriousness of his voice had Peter snapping his head up. He was still too far away but he held out a beseeching hand toward Peter.

“Come get me.” He ordered solemnly as if it was a matter of life and death.

“Ok. I am.” Peter agreed. He took another step forward and his foot caught and he crashed hard to the ground. He closed his eyes shut in frustration.

When he opened them again, the rubble strewn battleground had disappeared. Everything was white and he was cold. He groaned and rolled onto his back. Branches blanketed the view above him and ash, no, snowflakes, fluttered down from a grey sky, landing lightly on his face.

“Peter!”

“Kid!”

“Peter!”

Voices called his name.

People were looking for him.

Oh yeah. He’d taken off into the woods and fallen.

“Peter!” The voice called again.

He remembered. He’d killed Mr. Stark.

“Kid!” A different voice called out, closer. Happy. He sounded worried.

Peter knew he should say something. Yell back to let them know where he was, but he didn’t, because he didn’t deserve their help. He deserved to lay here in the cold snow. Maybe forever. Like some sort of penance since he’d inadvertently killed his mentor. And probably ruined his kid’s fifth birthday party too.

He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t like this reality. He wanted to be where he’d been before. Dreaming. He wanted to be back with Tony. His head throbbed as he shivered. He closed his eyes and let sleep claim him again, but he didn’t dream.

He came to when a warm hand touched his cheek.

“Jesus kid.” The man it belonged to said. “You’re frozen.”

“Mr. Stark?” He mumbled in question, not quite awake and the earlier dream still fresh in his memory.

“No. It’s Happy.” The illusion shattered.

The hand shook his shoulder. “Wake up for me.”

“Lemme alone.” He mumbled.

“Nope. No can do.” Happy said. “Open your eyes kid. Or I’ll open them for you and I can tell you neither of us will enjoy that.”

Peter groaned but listened and cracked his eyes open.

“Peter!” Someone else called out from further away.

“I found him! We’re over here!” Happy yelled to the other person.

The volume hurt his head and he winced. Happy noticed.

“Are you hurt?” The man asked in concern.

“I fell.” He answered dazedly.

“Yeah?” Happy looked up and around, noticing the evidence of his fall down the ravine imprinted in the snow.

“Does anything hurt?” The man repeated patiently. The Happy from before had never been this patient with him.

“I hit my head.” He said, but it came out more like a question. “I think.”

Happy frowned. “Yeah I’d say. Let’s sit you up, all right? See how you feel.”

The man roped a hand under his back and got him into a sitting position. The forest around him spun. He tipped sideways into Happy’s chest and knocked him back an inch.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Dizzy.”

“It’s all right.” Happy said, not dislodging him. “You feel sick?”

“No?” He frowned. He didn’t think so.

Peter closed his eyes but it didn’t really help the dizziness or the throbbing in his head. He felt Happy shuffling around, doing something. A second later the man wrapped his coat around him and helped him snake his arms through the sleeves. He knew he should protest because now Happy was standing there in just a sweater, but he was so cold and the coat was so warm. His teeth started chattering.

“Shit.” Someone else said. Clint. Peter opened his eyes and watched as the Avenger took a knee at his other side. “What happened?”

“He said he fell.” Happy answered before Peter could. “I found him knocked out cold on the ground.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Clint said, grabbing under his chin gently and peering into his eyes. Peter tried to stay focused on his face but it swam in front of him.

Clint must not have like what he saw because he made a small noise of dismay.

“What?” Happy asked.

“I’d say he at least has a concussion, but I’m no doctor.”

“Yeah you’re not, so go get one.” Happy ordered.

Clint raised an eyebrow at the man.

“There’s two of them back at the house in case you forgot. Go grab one. Actually, grab the wizard one not the green one. He can do that weird sparkle thing and help get him back to the house.”

“Why do I have to do it? Why can’t you do it?” Clint complained.

“Because I have the kid.” Happy said as if it was obvious. “And this is your fault.”

“Fine.” Clint rolled his eyes. “But it wasn’t my fault. It was Lang’s.”

“Yeah whatever. Just go.”

Clint gave him one more long look and then stood and started running in what must’ve been the direction of the lake house.

“I didn’t mean to ruin Morgan’s party.” Peter mumbled after Clint disappeared.

“You didn’t.” Happy said and ran his hands up and down his arms to help warm him up as he held him close. “Barton got me when he couldn’t find you. He told me what happened, and we went out looking for you. Don’t worry, no one else knows.”

He wondered if it meant something that a man he barely knew, knew enough to go to Happy for something that concerned Peter.

Happy was still talking, but Peter couldn’t focus on the words. His thoughts kept skipping.

“—and we’ll get you back to the house and warmed up and taken care of so—”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He interrupted to ask.

“What do you mean kid?” Happy asked, confused.

“I killed Mr. Stark.” He whispered. “You should hate me. Pepper should hate me. Morgan should really hate me.”

“You didn’t kill Tony kid.” Happy said firmly. “And no one hates you.”

“Scott said—”

“Yeah he’s an idiot.” Happy interrupted. “You shouldn’t listen to him.”

“So it’s not true? What he said?”

Happy’s long silence was answer enough.

“He died because of me.” Peter whispered in horror.

“No.” Happy denied. “You may have been the spark for figuring out the time travel thing, but that doesn’t mean that everything that happened afterward was your fault.”

Peter didn’t respond. It sure felt like it.

Happy sighed and continued, “And honestly kid. You knew him as well as I did. Once the idea was planted in his head, he wasn’t going to let it go. Especially with half the universe at stake. You know how much he hated losing.”

Peter sniffled through a laugh.

“See?” Happy squeezed him. “With or without you, he was always going to end up figuring it out sooner or later. What happened…was always going to happen. It wasn’t your fault. Ok?”

Peter nodded tentatively. The words rang true, but his heart still ached. He couldn’t shake the lingering guilt, the ‘what if’s’.

A circle of gold appeared in front of them, distracting him from further thoughts. Dr. Strange stepped out of it.

“I heard someone took a spill.” Dr. Strange said as he walked over to them, the gold circle dissipating behind him. Peter hadn’t really spoken to the man since right after the battle. The last time he’d seen him had been at the funeral, but they hadn’t really interacted. He found it odd seeing the man in front of him in jeans and a collared shirt instead of a cape.

“I’m ok.” He mumbled as Dr. Strange knelt down in front of him.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Dr. Strange said with his typical arrogance, but the small lift of the corner of his mouth softened it.

Without warning the doctor ran hands over his head and through his hair. Peter reflexively jerked when one of them touched the knot that had formed on the back of his head.

“Hmm.” Strange hummed at the finding but didn’t apologize or stop his ministrations.

“Look at me Peter.” The doctor ordered as he held his face in his hand and looked into his eyes.

“You said he lost consciousness?” Dr. Strange asked as he continued staring at him, but the question wasn’t directed at him.

“Yeah.” Happy answered. “He was lying here, out cold.”

“But he was easy to wake up?” Dr. Strange asked as released his face.

“Pretty easy.”

Dr. Strange nodded and ordered, “Follow my finger with your eyes Peter. Don’t move your head.”

He started moving his finger slowly to the left and then to the right, up and down.

“He hasn’t been confused?” Dr. Strange asked Happy while Peter did his best to follow the man’s finger.

“No.” Happy answered. “But he said he was dizzy earlier.”

“Are you still dizzy?” Dr. Strange asked him.

“No.” Peter said.

Dr. Strange raised an eyebrow.

“Um…not really. Just a little.”

Dr. Strange hummed again.

“Nothing else hurts?” The man asked and ran fingers down the back of his neck and his back, and then over his arms and legs. None of it ignited any pain.

“No.” Peter answered honestly.

“Ok.” Dr. Strange said with a nod. “Let’s get you back to the house so we can get you warmed up and I can take a better look at you. Can you stand?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He nodded.

“All right. On three.” Dr. Strange grabbed his right arm and looked at Happy who gripped his left. “One…two…three.”

The two men hauled him to his feet and both stumbled when Peter’s vision momentarily fizzled out and he pitched forward.

“Whoa. Ok.” Happy grunted as he and Dr. Strange took his full weight. “We got you.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled when the darkness receded.

“It’s all right.” Dr. Strange said with an out of character gentleness. “Can’t be helped.”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, the gold sparkles returned and the two men helped him take a step forward through the circle and directly into his room upstairs at the lake house. The last time he’d traveled that way he’d been too pumped full of adrenaline to appreciate it, but now he was with it enough to recognize it was pretty cool.

He could hear the noise downstairs as everyone laughed and continued on with Morgan’s party. At least he hadn’t wrecked her birthday.

“Sit him on the bed.” Dr. Strange told Happy.

They helped get him to the bed so he could sit on the edge.

“You can take your coat back.” Strange told Happy as he unzipped it.

They helped him out of the oversized coat and as soon as it was off, Dr. Strange waved his hands in front of Peter. Purple sparks appeared in the air and covered Peter. It tingled. Once they faded away, his damp clothes were dry again along with his hair and skin. Strange didn’t pause. He made another motion and then a big fluffy blanket appeared out of thin air. He wrapped it around Peter.

“That’s…really warm.” Peter noted. “Magic is awesome.”

Dr. Strange smirked. He waved his hands again and a black bag appeared at his side. He wasted no time sticking a thermometer under Peter’s tongue and shining a light in his eyes. Getting poked and prodded wasn’t quite as fun as the magic part. Dr. Strange did some more magic or sorcery stuff or whatever it was called it before he ended on some kind of diagnostic spell. A glow encompassed Peter’s head and turned a whitish blue.

“He has a concussion and mild hypothermia.” Dr. Strange gave Happy his verdict once he’d finished. “Keep him warm and let him rest. And call me if anything gets any worse, but I imagine that since he has super healing he’ll be completely fine by morning.”

“Of course.” Happy held a hand out to shake the man’s hand. “Thanks doc.”

“Yeah thank you.” Peter added.

Dr. Strange gave him a nod and then left the room. He wasn’t wearing a cape, but he still managed to give the impression that he was.

“Lay down kid.” Happy told him as soon as Dr. Strange was gone. “You heard the doc. You need rest.”

Peter scooted back on the bed and then flopped face down against the pillows. He was fine with the sleeping plan. He was exhausted. Emotionally and physically.

He felt Happy pull his shoes off for him.

“Under the covers.” Happy said quietly and Peter adjusted so the man could tug the bedding out from under him and lay it over him.

“Will you tell May I’m staying the night?” Peter mumbled into the pillow. She’d worry otherwise.

“I’ll call her.” Happy agreed.

“And,” He paused to yawn, “make sure it’s ok with Pepper that I stay?”

“You know she won’t mind kid, but I’ll let her know.”

He was about to go back to sleep when he remembered Morgan. “And can you tell Morgan I’m sorry for missing her party?”

Happy chuckled. “Yeah I will. Now go to sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Thanks Happy.” He sighed.

As he dropped off, halfway to dreamland, he wasn’t sure if he only imagined it or if Happy really ran a hand over his hair. Like Mr. Stark used to do. It somehow simultaneously eased and worsened the ache in his chest.

Chapter Text

The post-battle rubble of the compound was deserted and eerily silent. His breath echoed loudly in his ears.

Peter recognized the spot where he stood. He whirled around, expecting to see Mr. Stark’s body, but the place where he’d died was empty.

Someone must’ve moved his body already. Grief strangled him.

“Peter.”

Peter gasped and turned toward the familiar voice. Impossible.

But Mr. Stark stood there. Unharmed in a shirt and tie, sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Mr. Stark.” He croaked.

The man smirked at him and then turned and walked away without saying another word.

“Wait!” He called out. “Mr. Stark wait!”

But the man kept walking. He didn’t seem to be moving very fast but Peter couldn’t seem to catch up to him.

“Wait! Come back Mr. Stark!” Peter said as he chased after the man.

“No.” The man said as he stopped and turned to smile at Peter. “Come get me.”

“I’m trying. Just wait!” Peter yelled as he continued sprint after him.

“Come get me.” Mr. Stark said again, without any real urgency. But no matter how hard Peter ran, the man still remained too far ahead to catch.

“Please!” He pleaded. “Wait! Come back! I need you to come back!”

Mr. Stark paused again to call over his shoulder, “If you really needed me, you’d come get me.”

The words echoed on repeat like taunt.

“I do need you!” He yelled desperately. “I do! I’m trying!”

He tripped and fell roughly into the ground. He’d barely been able to keep up when he’d been running with all his spider powers. Now that he’d fallen, he’d never catch him. He sobbed into the rubble.

“You’re not trying.” Mr. Stark said but instead of being far off in the distance, his voice came from right next to him. Peter gasped and sat up.

His mentor stood there, mere feet in front of him, waiting with his hands in his pockets, looking the epitome of unhurried and relaxed.

“I am trying. I am. Please. I-I miss you. So much.” Peter kept crying, but he didn’t move, afraid it would spook the man and make him disappear or start running away from him again.

“So you’re ready now?” Mr. Stark asked and gestured at him.

Peter looked down at what he was wearing, expecting to see the Spiderman suit or normal clothes, but he had on a white time travel suit instead. He frowned.

“I’m ready. I’ve been ready.” He insisted. “I want you to come back. Please.”

“Then come get me.” Mr. Stark said and held a hand out toward Peter.

Peter slowly raised a shaking hand toward him. This was it. He’d finally get to be with Tony again.

“Come get me.” Mr. Stark’s voice whispered again, like a command.

Peter grabbed his hand.

And woke with a gasp, hand reaching out in the darkness into empty air.

The crushing realization that it was only a dream, that it wasn’t real, stole his breath away. He stared at the ceiling of the lake house room he’d unofficially taken over ever since he’d stayed there for the six weeks it'd taken May to find a new apartment.

His clothes filled the dresser in the corner and his things were scattered across the desk and nightstand. Including a photo of him and Mr. Stark. The one from when he’d given him a fake official internship, complete with a certificate and everything. He rolled onto his side and stared at what he could see of the photo from the light of his alarm clock. It’d been a good day full of goofing around. It wasn’t surprising that Tony had picked the picture of them giving each other bunny ears as the one he’d wanted framed.

Peter had found the photo on a shelf in the kitchen one of the first times he’d stayed over after the funeral. After he’d claimed this room as his own, he’d taken the picture and put it on his nightstand. Pepper had never said anything, so he figured it was ok. He stared intently at it now as if it held some secret answer to the dream.

Come get me.

Tony’s command echoed in his head. Over and over.

Come get me.

Then come get me.

It had felt like more than a dream. And it was the second time he’d had this version of it. It was like his subconscious was trying to tell him something. He picked up the picture and sat up. The solution felt like it was on the tip of his tongue or brain or whatever, but he couldn’t force it to manifest.

“What?” He whispered to his mentor in the picture. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Come get me.

“How? You’re dead.”

Great. He was talking to a picture of a dead man in the middle of the night. He’d finally lost it.

You’re not trying.

What had dream Tony meant? He wasn’t trying what? What was he not getting? What did he not understand?

Then come get me.

He closed his eyes and tried to think. His heart pounded. Figuring it out suddenly seemed to be of paramount life altering importance, but his conscious mind wasn’t sure why. He thought back to the dream and tried to remember any other clues. Any hints as to what his brain was trying to tell him. To get him to notice.

Both dreams had taken place on the battle ground of the last stand with Thanos. But only he and Mr. Stark had ever been present. Mr. Stark hadn’t even been wearing the Ironman armor. He’d been in his usual business attire, which he definitely wouldn’t have been wearing to fight Thanos. So obviously Peter couldn’t take it all literally. Or maybe the juxtaposition was purposeful to make him notice the clothes. But why? The business suit didn’t seem to be of any significance, didn’t ring any bells for him, and Peter had been wearing… What had he been wearing? Something white. The time travel suit. But why? He’d never worn it before. Why would he be wearing it in the dream?

So you’re ready now?

Come get me.

The answer struck him.

Peter gasped and he dropped the picture.

Time travel.

Come get me.

Peter kicked the covers off and untangled himself from the magically warmed blanket that was still somehow wrapped around him. He sprinted out of his room and down the stairs, doing his best to be silent so as not to wake up Pepper or Morgan. The first floor was completely immaculate, no evidence of the party from earlier. Peter didn’t really know how Pepper did it.

He ran passed the living room and wrenched open the door that led to the basement. To Mr. Stark’s workshop. He took the stairs two at a time. Time travel time travel time travel echoing over and over in his mind along with come get me come get me come get me. It was such an obvious solution. A way to get Mr. Stark back in this timeline instead of just in a newly created alternate reality. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. Why hadn’t anyone thought of it before?

He paused at the bottom of the stairs to hold his palm up against the square lock screen to the right of the glass door. It scanned his hand and the ring of light around the screen went from red to white, signaling his approved entrance as the door lock clicked open. Peter threw the door aside and ran over to Mr. Stark’s desk.

“FRIDAY?” He called out to the AI, wondering not for the first time if she was lonely now that Mr. Stark was gone.

“Yes Peter?” She answered right away.

“Do I have access to Mr. Stark’s files?”

There was a split second pause before she answered, “Yes. Of course.”

“Really?” His face contorted in surprise. “Huh. Well that was easy.”

He’d figured he was going to have to try to sweet talk FRIDAY or worse, hack his way into the files he needed.

He sat in Tony’s desk chair and lifted his hand up in front of him, the same motion he’d seen the man make countless times, to bring up the hologram screen in front of him.

“What would you like to view Peter?” FRIDAY asked as the blue hologram screen appeared over the desk in front of him.

“I need to see the information Mr. Stark has on time travel through the quantum realm. How he figured it out.” Peter requested, trying to sound confident. He didn’t want to arouse FRIDAY’s suspicions that he was doing something he shouldn’t. He didn’t want her ratting him out and risk someone trying to stop him. Especially since this could actually work. A thrill of excitement shot through him. It was only two in the morning but he was wide awake.

“Is there a particular aspect of this information or a file you’d like to see?” FRIDAY asked, showing no inclination that she was going to deny Peter’s inquiries.

“No. Just show me everything.” Peter said.

She did.

“Peter?” A hand running through his hair woke him.

But he didn’t want to get up yet.

“Hmm.” He scrunched his eyes shut tighter and tried to turn his head away.

Whoever was trying to wake him up chuckled and the hand returned. “Wake up honey.”

This time Peter’s eyes fluttered open with a put upon sigh. “Mmup.”

“Are you?” Pepper joked from where she stood next to him.

Peter blinked and recognized the hard desk under his cheek. He shot straight up in the chair. Ouch. His back and neck twinged. He must’ve fallen asleep studying the time travel data. His head snapped toward the hologram screen, afraid Pepper had seen it and would figure out what he’d been up to, but the screen wasn’t there anymore. FRIDAY must’ve turned it back off when he’d fallen asleep.

“I’m awake.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and repeated more coherently, “I’m awake now.”

“I see that.” Pepper smiled and then asked, “What are you doing down here?”

He could tell she was just curious, not upset with him for invading Tony’s sacred space.

“I um-I—”

I came down here in the middle of the night because I think I might've figured out a way to bring your dead husband back, got caught behind his teeth and remained unspoken.

He couldn’t tell her the truth. Even if he wanted to. Even if he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. She might try to stop him. Because it was crazy.

“I just…wanted to feel close to him, you know?” He said instead. Pepper’s eyes softened.

“I understand.” She gave him a tender smile and brushed his hair back. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He nodded. It wasn’t a complete lie. The dream that had given the idea for everything hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But now Pepper looked sad.

“Come here.” She said and gestured for him to stand. He did, and she folded her arms around him in a hug.

Peter hugged her back. The unexpected comfort it brought made his eyes sting.

“You know you can always wake me up if you have a bad dream, ok?” Pepper told him.

“Ok.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Not really.”

“Ok.”

She released him and held him at arm’s length to inspect him.

“Are you feeling ok? Happy told me what happened yesterday.”

“Um yeah. I’m fine. I-I feel fine.” He fidgeted under the scrutiny. “Good as new.”

“Happy said he already talked to you, but I want you to know that he’s right. Tony’s death was in no way your fault. Nobody blames you.”

“I know.” He tried to smile but it must have come off as less than convincing because Pepper sighed sadly, but didn’t press.

“And you know we all love you.” She added instead.

His smile became more genuine. “Yeah. I love you guys too.”

She smiled back as she set a hand on his upper back and started guiding him away from Tony’s desk.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs.” She said. “I made breakfast. If we hurry, maybe we can both eat in peace before the munchkin gets up.”

Peter smiled again.

“And if you want, you can come back down here later.” Pepper added.

Peter let her lead him away, only glancing back once before they left through the glass door. He’d definitely be coming back later.

As luck would have it, May ended up getting stuck away for work, which was how Peter ended up spending another night at the lake house. And ended up sneaking downstairs to the workshop as soon as Pepper and Morgan had dropped off to sleep for the night. He hadn’t wanted to work on anything during the day in case Pepper or someone else like Happy came by and interrupted him and saw what he was doing. He knew at the least they’d be worried about him, at the worst they’d think he’d finally cracked and would keep him from going through with his plan.

He wasn’t even sure what his exact plan was yet. Just that he was going to use the quantum realm to travel back in time to get Mr. Stark in the past and bring him forward to the current time. He hadn’t worked out all the details yet but that was the basic premise of the plan. He needed to figure out a few things first, though. Like exactly how quantum realm time travel actually worked, which he thought he had a fairly decent handle on after last night, but he still had some more research to do. Plus, there was the question of when exactly he’d go back to get Mr. Stark and how he was going to get him in a time travel suit, quickly, and probably against his will, because there wouldn’t be time to explain, and even if there was, Peter didn’t think the man would agree. And he also needed to figure out who was going to help him operate the time travel equipment, because there had to be someone here in the present in order to bring him back with Mr. Stark.

All the thoughts overloaded his brain. One thing at a time.

“You up FRIDAY?” Peter asked as he sat back down in Mr. Stark’s desk chair.

“I am always up Peter.” She answered and Peter thought he could detect a touch of sarcasm.

“Right.” He smiled. “I have a question I was hoping you could help me with.”

“What is your question?”

“Do you—” He cleared his throat nervously. If there was ever a time FRIDAY was going to turn on him and tattle, this would probably be it. “Do you know where the um time travel machinery device stuff is?”

“I do.” She replied but didn’t expand further on it.

“Um…where?” He asked, hoping she’d tell him. He really needed her on his side if he was going to have any hope of pulling this off.

“It is here.” She answered.

“Here?” His brow furrowed and he pointed to the workshop floor. “You mean here here?”

“Yes Peter. It is in one of Boss’s storage units, the door located directly behind you.”

Holy shit.

Peter turned around and found the door.

“That one?” He asked, pointing to it.

“Yes.”

“It’s all just…there? Right there?” He couldn’t believe it. It was either complete luck or a sign of destiny or someone else’s utter stupidity.

“Why-why-why would it be here?” He asked.

“It was the most logical place for it.” FRIDAY answered. Peter didn’t really agree with that, but whoever put it there probably didn’t think they’d have to worry about a vigilante teenager stealing it. “The compound was destroyed and no other trusted facilities existed to house it after the confrontation with Thanos.”

Peter flinched at the name.

FRIDAY continued, “The Avengers decided the best place to store it would be here.”

“Which Avengers?”

“Captain America and Dr. Banner.”

“I think he goes by Professor Hulk now actually.” Peter corrected automatically.

“Noted.” FRIDAY said.

“So…the time travel equipment is here.” He muttered to himself. “Everything’s here.”

Well, that made step one of his plan easy. Find the time travel equipment. Check.

Unless he couldn’t open the storage door.

“And I have access to it?” He asked FRIDAY. “The storage unit?”

“Of course you do Peter. Boss left it to you.”

“Mr. Stark left me his storage unit?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, among other things. He left you all his proprietary technologies and a controlling interest in Stark Industries in a trust that is set to become active once you complete college and turn twenty five.”

“He did?” He whispered the question.

“Yes Peter.”

Peter felt like he’d been sucker punched. No one had told him. And yet, everyone had to have known. Pepper. Happy. May. They’d kept it from it. They probably thought he wasn’t stable enough to handle it yet. Just like May had held off on telling him about MIT.

“If I may, Peter?” FRIDAY spoke, interrupting his tumultuous thoughts.

“Yeah? What is it Fri?” He turned his gaze to the ceiling even though he knew she wasn’t there. It was a habit Tony had always made fun of him for, but one he’d never managed to completely break.

“The time travel equipment including the quantum realm suits are here, but only one vial of Pym particles remains.”

“Pym particles.” Peter echoed. “That’s what I need to— I mean what’s needed to get into the quantum realm. To time travel. Right?”

“That is correct, but if I am correct in my assumptions as to why you are researching this particular subject in Boss’s absence, then I should tell you that one vial will only be enough to send you back in time and return. You would need an additional vial in order to bring Boss back with you.”

Peter scoffed at his own idiocy in assuming he ever had a hope of pulling one past FRIDAY, even as his heart sunk.

“Are there any Pym particles that exist somewhere else?” He asked.

“I have no concrete data to confirm, but I would assume that, being their creator, Dr. Hank Pym has several in his possession.” FRIDAY answered.

“That…makes sense. And where is Dr. Pym now?”

“He currently resides in San Francisco along with his laboratory.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair in agitation. How was he supposed to get to San Francisco, break into Dr. Pym's lab, find the particles so he could steal them and then get back to New York without anyone being the wiser?

“Besides Dr. Pym, it is likely Scott Lang also has particles in his possession since they are required to power the Antman suit.” FRIDAY added.

He shot an incredulous look up at the ceiling. “You couldn’t have led with that?”

Getting to Scott and the Antman suit would be a lot easier.

“My apologies.” FRIDAY said, but she didn’t seem sorry. “As always, I endeavor to give the most thorough explanations.”

“You know I’m starting to see why Tony threatened to rewrite you so often.”

“Indeed.”

Peter took a deep breath, let it out, and nodded to himself. “Ok. So I just have to steal the Pym particles out of the Antman suit so I can use them to go back in time and find Mr. Stark and somehow get him into a time travel suit, so I can bring him back. Sounds…easy. Totally-totally doable.”

Not.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He was so screwed.

“Peter, it is currently 5:35AM.” FRIDAY’s announcement made him jump.

“That’s nice Fri.” He mumbled as he continued to pour over the information in front of him on nanotech, making notes periodically. He’d gotten the idea somewhere around 1AM to make a time travel suit out of nanotech like Tony’s Ironman suit, so he could slap the housing unit on the man and make it expand over his body. The only problem was…nanotech was hard.

“Ms. Potts will be up soon.” FRIDAY reminded him.

“Right.” Peter rubbed his eyes. They burned with fatigue. He’d barely slept the night before and now he hadn’t slept at all last night. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“I suggest you head to bed so as not to arouse suspicion.” FRIDAY said.

“I think you’re right.” Peter said with a smile. Apparently he and FRIDAY were in cahoots now. She’d been pivotal in helping him try to figure out all the nanotech stuff. They’d almost finished designing the initial model for the nanotech time travel suit. He stood from the desk chair and stretched.

“If you’d like, I can continue the work on your nanotech project, and if you have no objections, I will start production on it once it’s complete.” FRIDAY offered.

“That’d be great.” He smiled again and started walking toward the door. “Thanks FRIDAY.”

“Of course Boss.” She said in response, sounding satisfied.

Peter stopped short of the door, momentarily shocked by the title she’d addressed him with. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He didn’t correct her. If she wanted to call him that, he could live with it. For now. After all, her real boss would be back soon. He’d make sure of that.

The sudden reality of that thought made him quirk his lip in a half smile as he opened the door in front of him. He crept upstairs and snuck back into his bedroom, feeling happier than he’d been in a long time. He fell into bed and dropped off into a dead sleep within seconds.

No ghosts haunted his dreams.

FRIDAY didn’t finish the nanotech housing for the time travel suit that day, and Peter had to leave the lake house that evening to be back in New York for school in the morning, but with FRIDAY’s help he managed to interface with her servers on his laptop at home.

He spent the rest of the week finishing the design and FRIDAY put the housing unit in production so it would be created and ready for testing when he went back to the lake house that next weekend.

Assuming it worked, he just had to deal with the whole figuring out how to get access to Scott’s Antman suit and decide who was going to be the person operating the time travel machinery while he went back in time. He knew he was kidding himself. He already knew who was going to be the one to help him. The only person he could trust.

Ned.

He just needed to get up the courage to ask. To tell his friend what he was planning. He didn’t want him to try to talk him out of it.

He stared at the phone in his hand with Ned’s contact information up on it. He’d chickened out repeatedly all week at school about mentioning anything to Ned, but now it was Friday night and he needed his friend on his side because he was hoping the nanotech suit would work and he could go back in time as early as next week. It coincided with Midtown’s spring break so they had the entire week off. It was oddly fortuitous timing. Almost as if it was meant to be. Perfect. Predestined.

Peter was supposed to do this.

He tapped his foot on the floor. If he was so confident about it, why was admitting his plan to Ned so hard? He pressed his friend’s name on his phone before he could change his mind. He had to get this conversation out of the way. May thought he was out as Spiderman and she’d gone out on a date. Peter didn’t know the details, but he figured she’d be home soon and he wanted to be able to argue with Ned without the threat of being overheard.

“Hey Peter, what’s up?” Ned answered on the second ring.

“Hey Ned. Um, do you have some time to talk?”

“For you? Always.” Ned said.

Peter smiled and tried to gather his courage. “Ok so um hear me out before you tell me I’m crazy.”

“Peter.” Ned sighed his name.

“No wait. Just listen. Let me get this out.” Peter’s leg bounced frenetically. “So I had this idea.”

“Oh god.” His friend interrupted.

“Ned!”

“I’m sorry Peter, but nothing good has ever come from you saying those words. And you know it.”

“Ok so you may have a point but listen. You know how I told you about how the Avengers went back in time to get the infinity stones so they could snap us back into existence?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok and you remember how I told you that no matter what you do in the past, it can’t change your present, it just becomes an alternate reality?” Peter knew he did. The two of them had discussed it more than a few times.

“Yes…” Ned said as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Which I thought meant that there’s no way we can do anything to help Mr. Stark because-because even if we went back in time and tried to save him then he’d only be saved in an alternate reality, he wouldn’t be alive in this one.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But…I think there is a way. I think I figured it out.” Peter could barely keep his excitement at bay.

“Peter.” This time his friend sounded sad.

“No hear me out Ned. Please.” He begged. He needed Ned. He needed his best friend to be on his side. He needed him for this to work.

“I’m listening.” Ned said.

“What if I went back in time but instead of saving Mr. Stark, I grabbed him and brought him here. To now. To the present.” He swallowed hard. There it was. All his hope laid out bare.

Ned stayed silent.

Peter continued to explain, “It’d still create an alternate reality but it wouldn’t matter because I’d-we’d have Mr. Stark.”

“Peter.” Ned said his name cautiously, in the same way a person would if they were preparing to talk a crazy person off a building.

“Ned please.” He really didn’t want his friend poking holes in his logic. It would work. He knew it would.

“No listen. If you grab Mr. Stark from the past and bring him here, you’d be dooming that new alternate reality.” Ned reasoned. “Ironman saved the universe remember? If you take him…then in that reality everyone would die.”

“You don’t know that.” Peter argued hotly. “We-we have no idea how things would’ve played out if Mr. Stark hadn’t— If he hadn’t—”

Peter’s breath caught. He couldn’t say it.

“If he hadn’t snapped the gauntlet.” Ned finished for him.

Peter nodded even though Ned couldn’t see him. “Yeah. We don’t know. Maybe someone else would’ve done it. Maybe Thanos wouldn’t have ever gotten the gauntlet.”

“That’s a lot of what if’s.” Ned said.

“Are you on my side or not?” Peter snapped.

“You know I am.” Ned said gently. “But Peter, think about it this way…if you take Mr. Stark from the past then you’re leaving that alternate reality without him. There’s going to be another you and another Mrs. Stark and Morgan without him.”

“They’d be without him anyway. We both know how it ends.” Peter reasoned. “He’d be…he’d be dead.”

Ned didn’t argue.

“At least this way he’d still be alive. He’d still be here with this Pepper and this Morgan. And…with me. He’d get to live his life. Isn’t that better than dying?” His voice reached a fevered pitch at the end.

“I don’t know Peter.” Ned sighed. At least it wasn’t a hard no.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I just think you might be a little too close to this to think about it logically.” Ned said carefully.

Peter grit his teeth. “I don’t care. I’m doing it. Are you going to help me or not?”

Ned didn’t say anything at first and Peter worried his friend was actually going to refuse him.

“I’ll help you.” Ned said, resigned. “Of course I’ll help you Peter.”

“Thank you Ned.” Peter smiled. “Really. Thank you. Thank you thank you.”

Ned huffed out a laugh. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“I will.” Peter said. “I have a few things I need to figure out first, but I think I’ll be ready by the end of this weekend.”

“Ok. Keep me in the loop.”

“I will.” Peter agreed as he heard the key turn in the lock at the front door. “I have to go. May’s back. I’ll talk to you later.”

“All right. Bye Peter.”

“Bye Ned.” Peter hung up.

He stood as he heard May enter the apartment. He was about to call out to her and let her know he was home, when he heard another voice. May was talking to someone. Her date. What the hell? May had never brought someone home to their apartment before.

He stepped out of his room and padded quietly down the hallway.

“I had a good time.” He heard May say. “Thank you.”

“I’m the one that had a good time.” He heard an oddly familiar voice say as he stepped into the living room with a clear view of his aunt and…

His eyes widened in shock.

“What the fuck?” He said suddenly.

“Peter!” May said, shocked at his language and at seeing him there when he was supposed to be out as Spiderman.

“Um what…what’s happening here?” Peter asked pointing back and forth between May and Happy.

Happy gaped.

“Well um you see…” May stumbled trying to explain.

“Oh my god are you two dating?” Peter’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t seen that coming.

May and Happy shared a long look with each other and then May stepped forward.

“Peter listen, we were going to tell you.” May said gently.

“You were going to tell me?” His brows drew together in confusion. That implied that this wasn’t a recent thing. “Wait. How long have you two been…”

May sighed but answered, “A couple months.”

“A couple months!” His voice squeaked at the end. He couldn’t seem to stop repeating everything May was saying.

“We wanted to tell you.” May said more anxiously. “We were just worried how you’d take it."

Peter shook his head and grabbed at his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“And clearly we were right to be worried. You’re obviously not taking it well.” May said as she walked toward him. He retreated backward in response

“Of course I’m not taking it well! You’ve both been lying to me and-and sneaking around behind my back for months.” He accused.

May snorted. “You’re making us sound like a couple of randy teenagers.”

“Oh god. Gross.” His face scrunched in disgust and covered his ears. “My ears. I can never unhear that.”

May rolled her eyes. “You’re being a little dramatic.”

“No I’m not!”

May gave him a skeptical look.

“I think I’m reacting completely reasonably. You just sprung this on me!” Peter couldn’t keep the hysterical edge out of his voice.

“Honey calm down.” May told him, reaching out to try to grab his wrist, but he twisted to evade her.

“I am calm!”

“You don’t sound calm kid.” Happy finally spoke.

“No one asked you!” Peter didn’t know where the anger that suddenly filled him came from.

“How about we all just sit down and talk about this.” May suggested, trying to defuse the situation.

“I don’t want to sit and talk.” Peter protested, feeling the urge to flee instead. To escape somewhere where things still made sense. “I want to-I-I need to go.”

He turned on his heel and started walking toward his bedroom.

“Where are you going?” May called after him.

“Out!” He snapped. “Where I should’ve been in the first place. Then none of this would’ve happened.”

“I don’t really think you should be going out as Spiderman right now.” Happy said.

“Happy’s right. You’re upset.” May reasoned.

“Well I don’t care what Happy thinks. He’s not Mr. Stark. He’s not my d—my anything.” Peter released the scathing remarks, purposely meant to hurt. He tamped down on the small flame of regret that ignited as soon as the words passed his lips. It didn’t matter. Happy deserved to hurt. The man had given him that self righteous speech about moving on and living his life. Well, apparently that was easy for him to say because all this time he’d been moving on by dating May. On second thought, it was probably the only reason he’d been acting so nice to him lately. Not because he actually cared.

“Don’t wait up for me!” Peter yelled and slammed his door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry. A part of him deep down recognized it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. The fury was all consuming. He tossed his clothes off, threw on his Spiderman suit, and was out the window before May or Happy could come after him.

Chapter Text

“May and Happy?” Ned asked in disbelief.

“I know, right?” Peter shook his head.

“I mean…I guess it’s not a bad thing. It’s just…surprising?” Ned shrugged.

“It’s weird.” Peter declared.

“It’s a little weird.” Ned agreed.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned to watch a bird fly by Ned’s bedroom window.

“Sooo is that why you called me sounding all crazy at four thirty this morning asking to come over or was that something else?” Ned asked.

“I didn’t sound crazy.” Peter frowned as he turned back to his friend.

“You sounded a little crazy dude. I mean you were talking so fast I could barely understand you.”

“I was excited.”

“About May and Happy?”

“No! I found out about the May and Happy thing on Friday night.” Peter explained. It was Sunday.

“Ok…” Ned raised his eyebrows, waiting expectantly for an explanation.

“I went to the lake house yesterday and spent the night so I could work on stuff in Mr. Stark’s workshop. I called you this morning because I was excited about—” Peter glanced around even though it was only him and Ned in Ned’s room, “—the time travel thing.”

“Oh.” Ned didn’t sound so enthused.

“I figured out how to convert the time travel suit into nanotech.” Peter grinned. He’d been working on it all week but even with FRIDAY’s help it hadn’t been without its setbacks. During the first test of the housing unit, it had unexpectedly exploded and sent him flying backwards to slam against the wall of Mr. Stark’s workshop. He’d seen stars for awhile and it’d also left him with some not so pleasant burns over his chest. He’d managed to figure out the problem after a couple more hours of work with FRIDAY’s help, but he’d been reluctant to try again so soon with fresh injuries. He’d been afraid of hurting himself even worse, but FRIDAY had assured him it wouldn’t malfunction, so he’d trusted her and she’d been right. The second trial had worked almost perfectly. They’d spent the rest of the night tweaking it and he’d finally completed it around 4:30AM, which was when he’d called Ned, bursting with excitement through his exhaustion laden fog.

“The time travel what?” Ned asked, puzzled.

“The suit you need to wear to time travel. I needed to convert it into nanotech so it’d be small enough to carry with me and put on Mr. Stark.” Peter explained.

“That makes sense.” Ned nodded. “And you did it?”

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. “I mean I kind of blew myself up a little, but I got it.”

“You blew yourself up?” Ned’s eyes went wide. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine.” Peter waved his friend’s concern away. “It was a slight malfunction but I fixed it. And now it works!”

“That’s great.” Ned gave him a reserved smile. “So…you’re um ready to do this thing then?”

“Almost.”

“What else is left?”

“Well I have the time travel device.” Peter counted off on his finger.

“The time machine.” Ned corrected.

“It’s a time travel device.”

“If I’m helping you, we’re calling it a time machine.”

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Anyway we have…the time machine and the time travel nanotech suit, but we need still the Pym particles to power the suit to get into the quantum realm. I have one vial but I need another one for Mr. Stark.”

“And where exactly are we going to find an extra vial of Pym particles?”

“Antman’s suit.” Peter answered.

“You’re going to steal Antman’s suit.” Ned deadpanned.

“Well sort of.”

“No way.” Ned shook his head. “No way dude.”

“Come on Ned.” Peter pleaded. “I know where he keeps it in his house. FRIDAY has all that information. It’s a little creepy actually.”

“Peter you’re talking about breaking into someone’s house. A superhero’s house. And stealing their superhero suit! That’s crazy! It’ll never work.”

“Yes it will! And I’m not stealing the suit. I’m just stealing the stuff that powers the suit. The Pym particles. Scott can get more from Dr. Pym, anyway, so it’s not really like that big of a deal.”

“You’re still going to break into his house!”

“Ned we’re talking about someone’s life. What’s a little breaking and entering? Besides, he’s an ex-thief. If anything, it’s karma.” Peter reasoned.

“Oh my god we’re going to go to jail. I’m going to go to jail.” Ned panicked.

“We’re not going to jail.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Oh really, then tell me, what’s the plan? What exactly are we going to do?” Ned asked.

“Whatever it takes.” Peter answered. He didn’t have all the details of the plan fleshed out yet, but he knew nothing was going to stop him, not even the threat of getting in trouble with the authorities or the Avengers.

“It definitely sounds like we’re going to jail.”

“Only if we get caught.” Peter smirked but it was mostly a lie. He knew Scott would never turn them in. “But we’re not going to get caught.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“I’m Spiderman. Trust me. It’ll be a piece of cake.” Peter gave Ned a wide cocky smile. A kernel of happiness blossomed in his chest and as he and Ned discussed their plan, it expanded and grew into something more. Something he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. It was hope.

It turned out breaking into an ex-thief’s apartment wasn’t quite as easy and Peter thought it’d be. It definitely wasn’t a piece of cake. It was ridiculously hard.

“Maybe we should just ask him for the Pym particles.” Ned suggested for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m sure he’d give them to us if he knew what we were going to do with them.”

“He definitely wouldn’t.” Peter argued as he paced behind Ned, waiting for his friend to finish cracking Scott’s security system.

“Doesn’t that tell you something? That you think the Avengers would stop you if they knew what you were up to?” Ned asked as he continued typing vigorously on his laptop.

Peter shrugged. “I don’t care. Most of them were trying to kill Mr. Stark a couple years ago. I wouldn’t exactly say they’re invested in him.”

“Seven years ago.” Ned corrected.

“Whatever. You know what I mean.”

“I’m just saying it might be worth a shot to ask them. They might prove you wrong.”

“No. I can’t risk it.” Peter said fervently. “I have to do this myself.”

“Whatever you say.” Ned muttered, still working on bypassing Scott’s security.

Another minute of silence passed before Ned exclaimed, “I got it!”

His friend threw his hands into the air in celebration. “Yes! I’m the best.”

“You are.” Peter laughed.

“I bought you ten minutes.” Ned told him. “So hurry.”

“I won’t need ten minutes.” Peter said and pulled on his mask. He was already dressed in the rest of his suit on the roof of Scott’s apartment building where Ned had spliced into the wires to get into the man’s security system and remotely disable it.

“Hurry anyway.” Ned said as Peter hopped over the ledge of the building and starting crawling the few floors down to Scott’s window. Peter chose the window that opened into his guest bathroom. Based on the schematics FRIDAY had provided, it seemed like the farthest and most sheltered place from the master bedroom, so hopefully any noise Peter made wouldn’t be loud enough to wake Scott up. He grabbed the bottom edge of the window and pulled up, using his super strength to snap the lock. It came free with a pop and he wasted no time sliding it up and crawling through the opening.

Inside the bathroom, Peter paused and listened closely for any indication the lock breaking had woken Scott up, but the apartment was completely silent.

“Scan Karen.” He whispered.

He waited as she did.

“There is one heat signature in the master bedroom. Likely Mr. Lang. He appears to be asleep.”

Good.

Peter walked as silently as he could out of the bathroom and through the living room toward the door in the hallway that led to Scott’s bedroom. The door was closed. He listened again and heard only the slow deep breaths of the man on the other side.

Peter took his own deep breath and twisted the door knob as slowly as possibly. When it wouldn’t turn any further, he pushed the door open as gently as he could. It made the faintest sound while opening, but Peter figured he could only hear it because of his enhanced hearing.

He padded in quietly, pausing just inside the threshold. Scott was in bed asleep less than eight feet away, tangled in the covers, face directed in the opposite direction.

Peter took another breath and released it slowly, trying to calm the racing of his heart. This was it. He couldn’t blow it. He tip toed carefully toward the closet, where the Antman suit was hidden according to FRIDAY. Apparently it was the de facto place for superhero suit storage. Peter kept his own suit in his closet.

He stepped over the array of clothes and junk that littered the floor. Scott was really messy. When he got to the closet, the door was partially dislodged. He glanced back at Scott to make sure the man was still asleep. He seemed to be. Peter pressed a hand against the door and gently pushed it open. It’d almost completely opened when it let out a loud squeak that reverberated like a gunshot through the quiet of the room.

Peter froze, hoping it’d go unnoticed, but he wasn’t that lucky. Scott stirred on the bed. Peter’s head whipped around and he watched the man sit up, rubbing his eyes.

Shit shit shit.

He took two quick steps into the closet and hid in the space behind the now partially open door. He could still see through the crack of the door hinge.

Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep. Nothing to see here. He thought, hoping he could mentally will the man back to dreamland.

No dice. He watched as Scott looked around and frowned once he noticed the wide open closet door.

Not good.

Scott crawled out of bed and started walking toward him.

No no no no.

Peter glanced around. There was nowhere to hide.

Except…

Scott paused at the partially open door, glancing inside before slamming it open the rest of the way.

The man looked around the closet, not seeing anything.

Peter waited, holding his breath, as he watched from where he clung pressed against the ceiling, hoping the man wouldn’t think to look up.

Scott sighed loudly and ran a hand down his face before turning around and walking back to bed.

“That’ll teach me to watch scary movies before bed.” Scott muttered to himself as he got back under the covers.

Scott closed his eyes and Peter waited for a minute, then two minutes, then three minutes. Scott’s face was lax, but Peter wasn’t sure if he was completely asleep yet. And he had to be sure because now that the closet door was wide open, he had no cover. And he didn’t dare try to move it again now that he knew how loudly it squeaked.

“You have three minutes before the security system comes back online.” Karen quietly reminded him.

Shit.

He had to chance it. Peter grit his teeth and dropped down from the ceiling. He landed soundlessly. Scott didn’t move. He bit his lip and parted the clothes hanging along the back of the closet, revealing a small hidden door with a keypad. It was higher security than his own method of stuffing his suit in a bag in his closet, but no one knew he was Spiderman. Everyone knew Lang’s association with Antman. Thus, the locked storage unit in the back of the closet. Luckily, FRIDAY had the code since it was part of the Avengers security.

Peter typed in the numbers 0-7-2-0-0-7 and the lock clicked open.

Peter froze with a full face wince. Had that been loud? He didn’t hear any rustling but he turned back around to check. Scott was still in the same position, asleep. He let out a relieved sigh and pulled the small door open. The Antman suit sat there, folded neatly.

“You have two minutes Peter.” Karen said.

Peter yanked the suit out and rifled through it, trying to find the access point for the Pym particles. His mask’s view screen lit up, helpfully illuminating where the Pym vial he was searching for was located. Good ole Karen. He pulled a flap of the suit away, exposing the vial. There. It was right there. The key to saving Tony.

“Ninety seconds.” Karen reminded, catapulting him to action.

He twisted the vial free and palmed it. He did his best to fold the Antman suit and put it back exactly the way he’d found it, closing the hidden door once it was in place. He readjusted the clothes on the hangers so they hid the door, just like before.

Vial in his possession, Peter crept back out of the closet, past Scott, and out the bedroom door into the hallway.

“You have thirty seconds Peter.” Karen said when he’d finished silently closing the bedroom door.

He picked up the pace as he made his way through the rest of the apartment back into the bathroom. Karen had an anxiety provoking countdown displayed on the top corner of his mask.

Fifteen seconds.

He opened the window and craned his upper body through it.

Ten seconds.

While still keeping a tight grip on the vial, he twisted and stuck one hand to the outside of the building and hauled the rest of his torso and legs out the window.

Three seconds.

Once he was clear he grabbed the bottom edge of the window.

Two seconds.

He carefully slid it back down.

One second.

It closed without a sound.

Zero.

“Congratulations Peter.” Karen said. “You made it.”

“Barely.” He said breathlessly. That was close. Too close. But it’d worked.

He scaled the building, careful to keep the vial cradled in his fist.

“You got it?” Ned asked as he crawled over the ledge back onto the roof.

“I got it.” He said holding up the vial in his hand as he pulled off his mask.

“I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Yeah me neither.” Peter admitted and they both laughed, high off the relief and their victory.

“Now what?” Ned asked.

“Now we wait until morning so we can go to the lake house and get Mr. Stark back.” Peter smiled.

Peter went back with Ned to spend the rest of the night in his friend’s room. Peter had texted May earlier in the day that he was sleeping over at Ned’s house. By now, she had to know he was avoiding her. He hadn’t seen her since the whole incident with her and Happy. He’d come home late Friday night after she was already asleep and then he’d left for the lake house early Saturday morning before she’d woken up, and he’d spent the night there before heading back to New York to see Ned. But May hadn’t called him out on it. She hadn’t pushed him, she’d just given him her blessing. He was starting to feel a little guilty about it.

Peter helped Ned climb up the fire escape and through his bedroom window, the same way they’d snuck out once Ned’s parents had fallen asleep. As soon as they’d made it inside, Ned flopped down onto his bed and fell asleep instantly. Peter didn’t sleep. It was late. Three in the morning, but he couldn’t sleep. He should be tired, especially after a long week of practically sleepless nights, but he was too ramped up and excited. His plan was finally going to come to fruition. By this time tomorrow, he’d have Tony back. This whole nightmare of the past six and a half months would finally be over.

He stared at the ceiling, wide awake, as the darkness turned to light. His thoughts were filled with Tony, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he didn’t shy away from them.

“And you’re going back to what moment exactly?” Ned asked.

Peter tried not to get annoyed. His friend had been peppering him with questions all morning as they drove up to the lake house. He should be grateful Ned cared so much, but after almost two hours it was getting to be a bit much.

“I already told you like three times.” Peter said from the driver’s seat.

“Tell me one more time.”

“I’m going to grab him before he wields the gauntlet.” Peter shrugged.

“That’s not an exact time. When exactly?”

Peter sighed, but answered, “There’s a perfect moment when he and Thanos are fighting and he has the gauntlet but he’s not wearing it. I’m going to grab him then.”

“You’re going to fight Thanos?” Ned’s voice squeaked.

“No. I’m going to grab Tony-Mr. Stark, and get out of there. I’m not going to fight anyone.”

“Ok.” Ned said hesitantly. “Because I think fighting Thanos is a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to fight Thanos.”

“Because if you go back in time and die there you’ll be dead here for forever.”

“I know Ned. I’m not going to die.” He threw his friend a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. FRIDAY and I went through all the footage compiled from the Avengers that had recording capabilities. I have it planned perfectly.”

“If you say so.” Ned stared out the window.

Ned stayed quiet as three more songs played on the radio. Just when Peter thought maybe his friend had finally run out of things to ask, Ned suddenly blurted out, “You’re grabbing Mr. Stark when he has the gauntlet.”

“Yes. That’s what I said before.” Peter let some of his annoyance bleed through his tone this time. “That way that new reality should still have a chance. The gauntlet will be gone. No matter what happens, Thanos won’t be able to use it to destroy half the universe. The Avengers will just have to defeat him and his army. It’s doable.”

Ned didn’t say anything for a few long seconds so Peter glanced in his direction. His friend had a freaked out look on his face.

“What?” Peter asked as he turned left onto the private gravel road that would lead them to the lake house. They were almost there.

“You’re bringing the gauntlet here.” Ned stated shakily.

“I have to.” Peter replied.

“But Peter—”

“Look we’ll figure it out, ok?” He snapped. “I don’t like it either, but it’s the only way.”

Ned didn’t look so sure.

“You’re the one that pointed it out. If I take Mr. Stark and leave the gauntlet, I’d be dooming them. I can’t-I can’t do that. I have to give them a chance. Taking the infinity stones out of the equation is that chance.”

“God Peter.” Ned let out a sharp exhale. “I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah.” Peter mumbled back. “Me too.”

They pulled into the lake house drive a few minutes later, arriving promptly at nine o’clock just like Peter had planned. Pepper and Morgan were gone. Pepper was working in the city and Morgan was at preschool for the day. It was a Monday but Peter and Ned didn’t have school because it was their spring break week. The timing had worked out perfectly. Mr. Stark had always hated Mondays, but he’d have to like this one.

Peter grinned at that thought as he got out of the car and walked to the house, Ned trailing behind him. He let himself in with the key Pepper had given him and headed directly down to the workshop. There were a lot of pieces they had to move.

Peter didn’t want to set up the time travel equipment in the workshop in case something went wrong, so he had Ned help him haul it a good distance into the woods outside. It took three trips and even though Peter always took the heaviest stuff, Ned was still out of breath by the time they had everything set up in the small clearing in the woods.

Peter changed into his Spiderman suit and then pulled the time travel suit on over it. He held the housing for the nanotech time travel suit securely in his hand, the Pym particles already installed into it. Thankfully there hadn’t been any unforeseen issues with that.

He took a deep breath and let it out in a quick huff before giving Ned a nod.

“Ready?” Ned asked from where he stood behind the control station, looking like he couldn’t decide whether to scream in excitement or throw up from fear.

“I’m ready.” Peter nodded and pressed the button on his time travel suit glove that flicked the helmet on. They’d already set the time he wanted to return to in the system with FRIDAY’s help. Everything was all set to go.

“Ok.” Ned said uncertainly, hands hovering over the controls. “Are you sure? This is your last chance to back out.”

“I’m sure.” He said and then repeated, more sternly. “I’m ready.

Nothing was going to change his mind. He was doing this. No matter what. He was going to save Mr. Stark. With the helmet on, his short, fast breaths echoed ominously throughout it as the nerves set in.

“If you say so.” Ned muttered and then pressed the keys on the console in front of him. “All right, mission ‘going back in time to save Ironman’ commencing in three…two…one…”

Peter closed his eyes.

And promptly got thrown through what felt like the craziest amusement park ride ever.

He landed in the midst of the battle seconds later, his stomach still back wherever he’d just left from. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Not having eaten this morning, or really in days, probably wasn’t helping matters.

Peter glanced around him. He thought he’d sufficiently prepared. He’d studied all the recordings from his own suit along with everything FRIDAY had recorded in Tony’s and everyone else’s. He knew exactly where he needed to be and when, but arriving in the middle of the chaos of the battle was completely disorienting.

His spidey sense spiked and he reflexively dove to the ground just in time to avoid getting brained by a huge piece of rock flying by. Shit. He couldn’t get hurt yet. He couldn’t die yet. He had to get to Mr. Stark or all of this would be for nothing. He had to do this. For Morgan. For Pepper. For Happy and Rhodey and everyone else. And for himself. He grit his teeth and jumped into the melee.

“Where is he Karen?” He asked, trying not to panic. Time seemed to warp around him. He had no concept of it. He didn’t know if it was a side effect of the time travel or a result of his own panic, but he had absolutely no idea how long he’d been in the battle. And he couldn’t seem to find Mr. Stark. He hadn’t thought it’d be this hard, but there was so much ground and so many people and it seemed like most of them were trying to kill him. It wasn’t exactly the easiest environment to keep a level head. He didn’t remember it being like this last time.

“He’s one hundred yards to your left Peter.” Karen answered. “And I suggest you hurry. The moment you planned for is imminent.”

Shit. He couldn’t screw this up. He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t. He only had enough Pym particles for this one trip. The fear spiked. He had to get there.

He ducked away from the ugly alien thing currently trying to kill him and started sprinting in the direction of Mr. Stark, doing his best to dodge obstacles and enemies long the way instead of engaging with any of them.

“Hurry Peter.” Karen said.

He did.

He finished ascending a rubble strewn hill and paused to get his bearings. Mr. Stark. He was there. Right there. Below him, fighting Thanos. This was it.

Mr. Stark had the gold gauntlet in his hand.

It wasn’t too late yet.

“Go Peter!” Karen yelled in his ear. “This is the moment.”

She was right. He had to hurry. But he was still too far away. He threw his gaze around desperately. And a solution presented itself. Like fate.

He shot his web high above him at a huge worm monster thing passing by. It latched on and he jumped. He lined up his trajectory perfectly. It would be enough. It would work. It had to.

Time seemed to warp again. He felt like he was moving in slow motion as he got closer and closer to Ironman. To Mr. Stark. He was there. Still alive. And then it seemed like he only blinked and he was slamming into the man. In the nick of time. A mere second before Thanos would’ve gotten to him and grabbed the gauntlet back and propelled into motion the final cascade of events that would’ve resulted in Mr. Stark snapping. And dying.

His mentor let out an umph of surprise as they collided. Peter held on tight as they rocketed into the air together. He released his web so the worm monster thing wouldn’t inadvertently jerk them in a different direction. The force of their trajectory was enough to keep them flying upward. His eyes flicked to Mr. Stark. The man still held the gauntlet in his hand. Holy shit. This was actually going according to plan. It was going to work.

Ironman’s helmet retracted and Mr. Stark caught his eye. The shock of seeing the man’s face, seeing him alive after months of mourning his loss, was almost enough to critically distract him, but Peter blinked and forced himself to focus. There’d be time to appreciate the aliveness of his mentor later. Mr. Stark looked like he was about to say something. Some sarcastic quip probably. But before he had a chance to speak, Peter slammed the housing unit for the nanotech time travel suit onto the man’s chest. He double tapped it to activate it just as their upward arc peaked and they started plummeting back down to the ground.

Mr. Stark looked down with a confused frown. His mentor watched as from the housing unit the white time travel suit expanded and formed over his armor.

The instant Tony recognized it, the man’s eyes widened and sought his out. Peter saw the exact moment his mentor noticed Peter was wearing the exact same time travel suit and realized he wasn’t actually his Peter. That he was from the future.

“No.” Mr. Stark gasped and his fingers grappled at the housing unit, trying in vain to deactivate it. But it was impossible. Peter had made sure of that. He’d thought of this exact scenario. Once activated, it had a five minute period of inactivity before it could be disengaged. It would give him more than enough time.

They kept falling. Peter held the man tighter.

“Kid.” Mr. Stark entreated once he realized he couldn’t reverse the nanotech time travel suit.

The ground was rapidly approaching. Peter brought his left hand up in the limited space between their chests.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he looked his mentor in the eye. Even though he wasn’t. He was the very opposite of sorry. Mr. Stark watched, helpless, as he pressed his thumb on the glove button that would return them together to the present time.

He scrunched his eyes shut as the world twisted around them seconds before they would’ve splattered back into the ground. Together, they shot through the quantum realm’s dizzying maze.

Seconds later they slammed into the ground. Together. They were still together.

Peter groaned as his chest seized from getting the wind knocked out of it during the rough landing. He coughed and tried to sit up, barely managing it. A couple feet from him, Mr. Stark was doing the same, sitting up and glancing around.

“Holy shit!” Ned yelled. “It actually worked!”

“Kid, what did you do?” Mr. Stark’s question came out more as a fear filled accusation. The man’s eyes were wide, with shock or panic, Peter couldn’t tell. But he didn’t care. Mr. Stark was here. He was here. He was alive. Peter had done it. He’d saved him.

He didn’t have the breath to explain, so he didn’t answer. Everything was spinning. He tried to focus on Mr. Stark’s face but that, along with everything else, seemed to be turning into a nondescript amalgam.

“Oh my god! Oh my god Peter! You did it!” Ned kept freaking out from where he stood by the control panel.

The world whirled abruptly on its axis and Peter slammed a hand into the grass, trying to ground himself and stay sitting semi upright. He felt terrible. Was this a side effect of the time travel or had he gotten hurt and not realized it in all the commotion? He didn’t think he felt pain anywhere, but he couldn’t quite tell since everything seemed kind of detached and unreal, including his body. Maybe he was in some kind of delayed shock. Or maybe this was finally the culmination of all the sleepless nights and lack of nutrients.

“Kid?!” Mr. Stark’s voice changed, an edge of concerned panic in it. It was so familiar, but it’d been so long since he’d heard it. He’d missed it. The corner of his mouth twitched but he was too tired to do more than that.

“Peter? Are you okay?” Ned asked.

Peter wanted to look over at his friend to reassure him but everything was dark. When had he closed his eyes?

He was so exhausted. He’d been running on adrenaline for so long and now that he’d completed his task, it’d finally abandoned him. He just needed to rest. Just for a minute.

He groaned. The elbow of his lone arm holding him up went weak and he would’ve faceplanted into the dirt if not for the two hands that suddenly grabbed him under the armpits and diverted his collapse. His head landed against a hard chest instead. It still kind of hurt, but at the same time, it was the most comforting thing he’d ever felt. Mr. Stark. The man brought his arms up around him to hold him. Sort of like a hug. For Peter, it’d been months since the last time they’d hugged in the middle of the battle, while for Mr. Stark it’d probably been only minutes before.

“Mm—” He tried to say his mentor’s name but his lips were frozen and numb and not listening to his commands.

“Kid?” Mr. Stark’s voice was speaking directly in his ear. “Pete? Come on.”

He tried to sit up, to wake up, to open his eyes, but his head just lolled weakly against his mentor’s chest. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was that Mr. Stark was here. He was here. He was here he was here. He wasn’t dead. Not anymore. Peter had done it. He’d done the impossible. And no one could take it back even if they wanted to. There weren’t any Pym particles left. Mr. Stark was stuck here with them. With Peter.

“You need to talk to me kid. I’m starting to freak out. What’s going on? Are you hurt?” Mr. Stark kept talking.

He wanted to answer but all he could do was groan.

“FRIDAY read vitals.” Tony said, and yep that was definitely his panic voice. “And run a full diagnostic. What’s wrong with the kid?”

Peter opened his mouth to reassure his mentor that he really was fine. Just tired. But before he had the chance, consciousness fled.

Chapter Text

Peter came back to awareness with a gasp. He had the nagging sensation that he’d checked out during something important. His eyes snapped open. He saw trees and sky and…Mr. Stark, who was leaning over him.

“There he is.” Tony said as soon as Peter locked his eyes with him.

Peter stared, wide eyed as reality came flooding back to him. He’d gone back in time. He’d saved Tony.

“Hi.” He said, breathy with shock, not quite believing what he was seeing. It was too good to be true.

“Hey yourself.” Tony said back with a small smile. “You look rough kid.”

Peter blinked languidly. He reached a shaky hand up to touch his mentor’s warm and life filled cheek. The stubble under his fingers scratched. He was real.

“You’re here.” He mumbled.

“Yeah I’m right here.” Mr. Stark said as he grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

Peter couldn’t help it. He started crying even though he barely had the energy to do more than whimper.

“Hey hey hey.” Tony said in alarm, hands hovering over him briefly as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do, before they grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up into a rough embrace.

“It’s all right.” Mr. Stark told him. “You’re all right.”

Peter had heard that phrase from him before but this time he wasn’t fading into dust. This time he wasn’t afraid, but he wrapped his arms around the man just as desperately. And he’d cried more in the last six and a half months than he could ever remember crying before, but this was the first time he actually felt better for it. It was cathartic.

“You’re ok. I’ve got you. It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” Mr. Stark kept muttering reassurances into his hair.

Peter held him tightly. Everyone had been telling him things would be ok, but this was the first time he let himself believe it. The first time it was actually true. He’d made sure of it.

When his crying faded to intermittent sniffles, Tony pressed a rough kiss against the side of his face and pulled away. Peter made a noise of protest but released the man. Tony didn’t go far. He looked intently into his eyes, their faces only a foot apart.

“You all right?” Tony asked.

Peter swallowed and nodded. He would be. It was more than he’d been able to say in a long time.

“All right.” Tony said with a nod as he wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“Um Mr. Stark?” Ned said hesitantly from behind his mentor.

Tony twisted around, still keeping a firm hold on his shoulder.

“You said you wanted something with sugar? This is all I had in my backpack.” Ned handed the man a Snickers bar.

“Thanks.” Mr. Stark took the bar and opened the wrapper before holding it out to him. “Can you try to choke this down? FRIDAY says your blood sugar’s bottoming out. Didn’t you eat anything today?”

“I forgot.” He mumbled as he accepted the candy bar and took a bite.

Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed at him and he didn’t looked pleased about that.

Peter flashed him a weak smile after he finished chewing. “Sorry.”

He finished the candy bar in record time as Ned and Tony watched him.

“Better?” Mr. Stark asked.

“Yeah.” He did feel a little better but still not great. But it wasn’t like he could reasonably expect a candy bar to fix his recent lack of sleep.

“Good. Now can you get me out of this?” Tony gestured to the time travel suit he still wore over his armor.

Peter nodded and tapped the housing unit three times in succession. The nanoparticles came apart and returned back to the housing unit. Once the suit had completely retracted, Peter pulled the device free of Mr. Stark’s armor. Mr. Stark tapped his own suit’s arc reactor and the Ironman suit melted away.

“You make that?” Tony asked, nodding toward the nanotech unit in Peter’s hand.

“Yeah.”

Tony’s eyes gleamed and part of his mouth rose in a half smile. He looked impressed. “Good job kid.”

“FRIDAY helped a lot. I never could’ve done it by myself.” Peter shrugged.

“I doubt that.” Tony said, squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Peter ducked his head at the praise.

“So…” Mr. Stark took a deep breath and glanced around. “I take it I’m not in Kansas anymore.”

“Um…” Peter bit his lip. Everything had seemed all fine and dandy when he’d planned this out, but now that it had worked and Mr. Stark was right in front of him, he didn’t know how to explain what he’d done.

“It’d help if you could tell me where we are right now.” Mr. Stark suggested, sensing his hesitance.

“The woods.” Peter answered. That was easy enough.

“Yeah I kind of figured that kid.” Tony gave him a wry look.

“We’re about a half mile from your house Mr. Stark.” Ned clarified.

The man nodded at him and then turned back to Peter and asked pointedly, “And exactly when are we?”

Peter swallowed hard and answered, “It’s March.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “March when?”

“Uh 2023?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling?”

“Jesus kid.” Tony took another deep breath and rubbed his face, mumbling to himself. “So I’m six and a half months in the future. I guess it could be worse.”

Tony stiffened and glanced around again, more frantically this time. “Wait. Did we lose?”

Peter didn’t know how to answer. They hadn’t lost the way Tony was asking, but they’d lost all the same.

“Peter?” Mr. Stark asked sternly when he didn’t answer right away.

“N-no.” Peter said. “We didn’t lose.”

Tony frowned. “Then where is everyone?”

“They uh…they’re around?” Peter winced.

“Kid.” Mr. Stark said in warning.

“They don’t know we did this.” Peter admitted with a put upon sigh.

“Let me get this straight.” Mr. Stark rubbed an agitated hand over his face. “You two took it upon yourselves to bring me forward in time and absolutely no one else knows?”

“Yeah?” It sounded bad when Mr. Stark said it like that.

“It was mostly Peter’s idea.” Ned said, easily selling him out.

“What happened?” Mr. Stark asked him, enunciating each word sharply.

“There uh there was the battle. Um you know that. You were-you were there.” Peter stumbled over the words now that he was faced with Mr. Stark’s disapproval. “And I was there. Everyone was there. Um yeah you uh you know that too. So um we were fighting Thanos and his army and Thanos got the gauntlet but then you ninja grabbed the stones back from him and you-and you…”

Peter took a short gasping breath. His throat constricted.

Mr. Stark waited for the rest of the explanation with expectant eyes. But Peter couldn’t finish.

“You snapped.” Ned finished for him.

Peter closed his eyes as if just hearing it said physically pained him.

“What?” Tony aimed a quizzical expression toward Ned when it was clear Peter wasn’t going to explain further.

“You had the infinity stones on the hand of your armor and you snapped. You dusted Thanos and his army.” Ned explained evenly. “So we won. But you…”

Ned couldn’t seem to finish either.

Tony turned wide eyes back on him, probably guessing what it meant. The man wasn’t stupid. He was a genius. He knew how badly snapping the gauntlet had hurt Professor Hulk. A baseline human snapping…

“You died.” Peter whispered. The words tore through him as they escaped. Tears formed again.

Mr. Stark reeled back as if he’d been struck. But he recovered quickly as Peter’s tears turned into all out crying again.

“Don’t cry kid.” The man said and tugged him roughly against his chest again. “I’m right here. I’m not dead.”

“You were.” Peter gripped the back of Mr. Stark’s shirt desperately. It was nice to be able to hug the man without the suit in the way.

“I know. But I’m not now, ok? I’m not.” Mr. Stark said. And it was true. It was the only reason Peter managed to stop crying. He nodded and pulled away.

“Sorry.” He mumbled and swiped away his tears.

“It’s ok.” Mr. Stark told him.

Peter sniffled and drank in Mr. Stark’s face. His very alive, right in front of him, face.

The man met his stare and almost seemed to be doing the same with him. He guessed it was because for Mr. Stark he’d been gone the last five years. They’d seen each other during the fight with Thanos and it’d been heartfelt but brief. There’d been no time to enjoy each other’s presence. Now they had time.

“All right.” Mr. Stark declared as he ruffled Peter’s hair. “I think it’s time we move this party to somewhere more comfortable.”

“Good idea Mr. Stark. It’s freezing out here.” Ned agreed and Peter saw his friend was shivering even in his coat. Flakes of snow had started falling.

"It is.” Mr. Stark agreed as he stood and held a hand out to Peter. He took it and the man pulled him to his feet.

The quick change in altitude might’ve been a mistake. Peter sucked in a breath as black spots danced in his vision and he stumbled into Mr. Stark.

“Sorry.” He mumbled as Tony gripped his upper arms, steadying him.

Peter blinked rapidly and eventually he could see again. Tony was staring at him in concern.

“I’m ok.” He tried to reassure the man but Tony didn’t look like he believed him.

Mr. Stark tapped his arc reactor and the Ironman suit re-formed over him sans helmet.

Peter frowned but before he could ask Tony what he was doing, the man bent over to pick him up bridal style.

“I can walk.” Peter protested but it didn’t come out very convincing as he wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck instead of struggling to get back down.

“Grab the gauntlet for me kid.” Mr. Stark said and it took Peter a second to realize he was addressing Ned.

“Um are you sure?” Ned’s eyes widened as he looked between Ironman and the gold gauntlet on the ground by his feet.

“Yes.” Tony said, all breezy confidence, as if he wasn’t asking his best friend to carry the most dangerous and important object in the entire universe. “I’m asking you to carry it, not wear it. Be careful. Got it?”

“Yeah of course. I wouldn’t— I—” Ned swallowed hard and took the necessary steps forward to grab the gauntlet, pinching the bottom rim between his fingers. “I got it.”

“Good work.” Mr. Stark praised. “Now the lead way.”

“Yes sir.” Ned nodded and started walking back to the lake house, holding the gauntlet at arm’s length as it was a stinking pile of trash.

They walked quietly through the woods, the only sounds coming from the crunching of their feet over the detritus and dusting of snow. It didn’t take long for the rhythmic movements to start to work their magic. Peter was so tired. It’d been a long week. A long six and a half months really. But now it was finally over. Peter rested his head against Tony’s shoulder. The man didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t comment. The metal was hard and chilly against his cheek but it may as well have been a down pillow. His eyes flickered closed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this safe. He was in Ironman’s arms. Sleep beckoned and he didn’t fight it. Mr. Stark was back. He’d done it. He could rest now.

Peter wasn’t asleep for very long. As soon as the metal encased arms set him down on something soft, he stirred awake. Tony stepped back from the couch he’d placed him on and tapped the arc reactor, the nanosuit melting back into its casing. He didn’t notice Peter was awake.

“Thanks Ned. But you can skedaddle now. I’ll take it from here.” Mr. Stark told his friend.

Ned fidgeted. “Um I would but Peter’s the one who drove us here.”

“You have your license?” Mr. Stark asked.

Ned nodded.

“Then take his car. I’ll make sure he makes it back ok.”

“Ok.” Ned still seemed hesitant. Peter realized he was worried about him and wasn’t sure if he should leave him alone, which was ridiculous since he was with Tony.

“I’m fine Ned. Take my car. I’ll pick it up from you later.” Peter mumbled, eyes barely half open.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Ned asked.

Tony looked offended at the question.

“I’m sure.” Peter answered as Ned continued to eye him. “Really. Go.”

“Fine but call me later.” Ned pointed a finger at him.

“I will.” Peter gave him a tired smile.

Ned nodded then turned to Mr. Stark. “Um I’m really glad you’re not dead anymore Mr. Stark.”

“Me too kid.” Tony smirked.

Ned glanced back Peter uncertainly. “And um take care of Peter.”

“You know I will.” Mr. Stark, more seriously this time.

Ned nodded again. He grabbed the keys on the counter and left.

As soon as Ned was gone, Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He walked over to the counter where Ned had left the gauntlet. Peter tensed as he reached to pick it up.

“Don’t—” Peter protested automatically before he could cut himself off. The instinctive and guttural fear at the sight of Mr. Stark reaching for the gauntlet wasn’t something he could stop.

Tony froze, hand inches from the gauntlet. He turned back to Peter and explained calmly, “I’m just going to put this somewhere a little more secure. Ok?”

“Um y-yeah. Obviously that-that’s fine.” Peter agreed. It made sense. His mini freak out was stupid. It wasn’t like Mr. Stark was going to put the thing on and use it.

Tony studied him for a few long seconds. Peter kept his hands in fists so he wouldn’t be able to see the fine tremors running through them. Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed briefly but he turned back and grabbed the gauntlet all the same.

“I’ll be right back. And then you and I need to talk.” Tony said, and the words sounded a little ominous.

“Ok.” Peter said. He watched as his mentor walked to the workshop door and disappeared through it.

Peter tried to relax back against the cushions but he couldn’t, so he sat up instead.

When Mr. Stark came back he headed toward the kitchen instead of the couch. Peter stood up to follow him but the man glared at him and said pointedly, “Sit.”

Peter frowned but did as he was told and slumped back down on the couch. He wasn’t alone for long. Tony came back with a glass of water and plate full of food. He handed him the water and placed the plate on his lap.

“First things first. Eat that. Then we’ll talk.” Tony ordered and sat down on the coffee table in front of him so they were knee to knee.

Peter glanced down at the plate and the corner of his mouth twitched. Tony had made him a huge sandwich, complete with chips, apple slices and a pickle. Peter picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing carefully. It tasted delicious. Now that he was eating, he realized how hungry he was. He started inhaling the food like he was starving. He looked back up at Mr. Stark, intending to thank him, but he hesitated when he saw him.

Mr. Stark was leaning forward, face closer to him than Peter had noticed, with his elbow resting on his leg and his nose and mouth pressed against the back of his fingers so all Peter saw were the knuckles of his fist. He looked deep in thought, eyes narrowed as he watched Peter eat. Peter swallowed hard and took a couple gulps of water to cover it. He went back to eating the food, glancing at the man periodically. Tony’s expression didn’t change.

The moment Peter finished, Tony snatched the empty glass and plate and put them on the coffee table. He went right back to staring at Peter with that same unnerving expression. Peter tried to meet the gaze unflinchingly but he didn’t think he succeeded.

“All right.” The man said, giving a decisive nod and leaning back. “Talk.”

Peter opened his mouth, not quite sure where to start, when Mr. Stark held a hand up. “Wait. No one else is here, right? And we’re not expecting anyone anytime soon?”

Peter shook his head. “Um n-no. It’s Monday. Monday morning. Pepper’s in the city and Morgan’s at preschool. No one’s here.”

“Small mercies.” Tony mumbled and a pained look crossed his face, no doubt thinking about how that reunion was going to go.

Tony took a breath and gave another little nod, more to himself than Peter. “Ok. Go.”

“Uh…” Peter chewed on his lip. “It’s…kind of hard to explain?”

“Try.” The man said without amusement.

“So we won, but you…you know.” Peter paused, already feeling the all too familiar lump rising in his throat. “And that-that really sucked. And it was…hard.”

Peter took a few short breaths, trying to avert another breakdown.

“Hey.” Tony said, voice softening as he leaned forward and gripped the back of his neck almost tenderly to bring them closer so they were almost forehead to forehead. “I’m right here kid.”

Peter nodded but tightly gripped the wrist of the arm holding his neck to try to ground himself.

“I’m right here.” Tony said again, voice still soft and reassuring. The one he rarely used on anyone else but Peter heard often enough. When Tony started rubbing his thumb over the skin behind his ear, Peter closed his eyes, which were stinging for an entirely different reason now. He was so happy Tony was back. He wanted to cry out of happiness when only a second before he’d been about to cry from the grief of the memory of losing the same man. God. His emotions were all over the place.

“I know.” He finally managed to whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“No I’m sorry.” Tony said. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

“It’s ok.” Peter mumbled.

“There’s no rush kid. Take your time. I’ve got nowhere I need to be.” His mentor continued, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but apparently I was dead an hour ago.”

Peter glared at the poorly timed joke.

“Too soon?” Tony’s eyes lit in amusement.

The echo of the last message the man had left for him replayed in his mind. The joke. The ‘too soon’ comment. It hit too close to home. Reignited that terrible memory and landed a swift blow directly to Peter’s most exposed nerve.

He couldn’t help it. He burst into tears.

“Oh shit.” Mr. Stark said, but before Peter could bury his face in his hands to try to spare himself the embarrassment of losing it in front of the man again, Tony moved to sit next to him on the couch and tugged him closer. They ended up back in a tight hug with Peter holding onto the man like he was about to be torn away and Tony rubbing circles on his back with one hand as he buried the other in his hair. It reminded him of when Happy had done the same thing on this very couch and that only served to set him off more.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Tony said quietly and almost desperately. “I know it’s not funny.”

“N-no.” He said, trying to explain even as he kept crying. “It’s n-not your fault. I-I don’t even know why I’m l-like this right now.”

“You’ve had an eventful day.” Tony said.

He tried to calm down. “I’m-I’m not sad. I’m not.”

Mr. Stark didn’t argue.

“It’s just… It was just really hard.” Peter mumbled.

“I can imagine.” Tony said, sounding a little strangled. And Peter remembered how true that probably was. He could imagine. He’d lost Peter for five years. Peter had only been without Tony for the last six and a half months.

He calmed down and pulled back, giving Mr. Stark a watery but appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

Tony nodded and searched his face. “You know we don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to. I’ll have to get all the details eventually but for now you can just give me the watered down version.”

Peter appreciated the offer, but he knew the longer he waited, the harder it would be. “No. I-I’ll tell you all of it. I’d rather get it over with.”

“Ok.” Mr. Stark nodded.

Peter took a bolstering breath and started explaining.

He told Mr. Stark all the details about the battle with Thanos. How he’d died. What had happened right after. How Peter had wanted to figure out a way to go back and save him but everyone had told him it was impossible. How they’d mourned him. How they’d returned the stones back in time so they didn’t have any of them, well except now they kind of did because Mr. Stark had brought the gauntlet with him. Peter told him about how he’d come up with the idea to go back in time to bring him forward because it was the only way to save him. He told him about working with FRIDAY and figuring out the nanotech for the time travel suit. How he’d done it all on his own in secret because he hadn’t wanted anyone to try to stop him. He described how Ned had helped him steal the Pym particles from Scott’s Antman suit so they’d have enough to time travel. He explained how he’d studied all the battle footage to figure out the perfect time to go back. How FRIDAY had helped them figure out how to use the time travel equipment. How they’d timed their attempt to be at the lake house when no one else was around. He explained it all. Until there was nothing left.

“…and then I grabbed you and brought you back. And the rest you know.” Peter said with a shrug.

Tony sighed sharply and stood. Peter frowned as he started pacing.

“I don’t know what to say Pete.” Tony ran a hand down his face.

“Are you mad?” Peter asked hesitantly. He seemed mad.

“Am I mad?” Tony asked in a way that instantly answered Peter’s question. Yep. He was pissed.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this.” Tony said, shaking his head. “And that you did it by yourself. You didn’t tell anyone!”

“They wouldn’t have helped me.” He mumbled in defense.

“And you never thought that maybe there was a good reason for that?”

“I thought—”

“No,” Tony interrupted gesturing wildly. “You didn’t think. You didn’t. Do you know how easily all of this could’ve gone wrong? Do you know what could’ve happened? You could’ve died!”

“You did die!” Peter yelled back and shot to his feet, no longer content with sitting. He wasn’t going to let Mr. Stark make him feel bad for saving his life. Tony blinked, surprised at his outburst.

“You saved everyone, but you died.” Peter said, weariness replacing his short-lived anger. “You-you left us. And when I thought of an idea for how to bring you back…I couldn’t-I couldn’t not try it. No matter what the consequences.”

Peter lifted his chin up and said confidently, as if daring Mr. Stark to disagree, “If our situations had been reversed, you would’ve done the same thing for me.”

At that, Mr. Stark visibly deflated.

“You’re right kid.” The man admitted with sad acceptance. “I don’t know whether to be mad at you or proud of you. But I kind of did do the same thing. You were the reason we went back in time in the first place.”

“I know.” Peter said with a nod. “So you can’t be mad at me. I was just following your example. So if anything, it’s your fault.”

Tony’s jaw dropped at the familiar argument and Peter smiled widely.

“Just for that you’re grounded.”

Peter scoffed. “You can’t ground me.”

“Oh yes I can. Trust me. If I say you’re grounded, then you’re grounded. May will back me.”

Peter blinked. Huh. Tony was probably right. He’d almost forgotten how Tony and May were all buddy buddy now.

“Um I take it back.” Peter tried.

“Nope. Too late. Grounded.” Tony pointed a finger at him.

Peter sighed.

“And give me your phone.” Tony jerked his head at him.

“Why?”

“Because I’m guessing mine doesn’t work here, considering I’m dead and all.”

Peter frowned.

Tony sighed deeply and explained, “I’m going to call Rhodey.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well the two of us can’t sit here forever. People are going to find out what you did and I’d rather have some control over when and how they do. Not to mention, I feel like we’re sitting in a house rigged with live dynamite ready to blow at any second with that thing down in the basement. So I have to start figuring out how to deal with that shitstorm.”

“Right.” Peter winced.

“So hand it over.” Tony held out his hand.

Peter’s brow furrowed as he considered if they had any other options. “Wait. I have an idea.”

“Kid just give me your phone.” Tony made a grab for him and Peter deftly dodged out of the way.

“No listen. I don’t think you calling anyone is a great idea right now. But I know someone I can call.” Peter said as he pulled out his phone and pressed the contact’s name.

“Who?” Tony’s eyes narrowed, looking about a second away from trying to snatch the phone from where Peter held it up to his ear.

Luckily the man answered on the second ring. “Kid, what are you doing calling me at eleven AM on your spring break? Don’t teenagers usually sleep in until noon on vacation? Or is this about the other night?”

“Hey Happy.” Peter greeted and saw Tony’s eyebrows jump in surprise. “No it’s not about that. Actually, um are you busy right now?”

“Why? What did you do?” Happy asked, clearly suspicious.

“Um nothing?”

“Yeah that sounds convincing.”

“Why are you always so paranoid?”

“Because it’s you.” Happy said. “And it’s only paranoia if it’s unfounded, which in your case, it never is.”

“Ouch. Whatever. Anyway, listen.” Peter tried to get back on track while ignoring the perplexed expression that had overtaken Mr. Stark’s face at their conversation. “If you’re not too busy I uh need some help with something.”

“Help with what kid?”

“Um…I…” Peter wracked his brain to try to think of a good excuse that would get Happy to the lake house without being too suspicious. “I got a flat tire.”

He winced as soon as he said it. As if he couldn’t change a flat tire. Happy was never going to believe that.

“Where are you?” Happy asked, a hint of concern in his voice. “Because if you tell me you’re stuck on a bridge somewhere I’m—”

“I’m not stuck on a bridge somewhere.” Peter interrupted as he rolled his eyes.

“With your luck kid I wouldn’t be surprised.” Happy muttered. “So where are you?”

“I’m uh I’m at the lake house.”

There was a pause before Happy asked, “Is Pepper there?”

“No she’s at work.”

“Are you babysitting?” Happy tried another reasonable explanation.

“No. Morgan’s at preschool.”

“So you’re there by yourself?” Happy clarified, and Peter could hear the hint of worry in his voice again. Because he couldn’t figure out why Peter would go to the lake house to be all alone without telling anyone.

“Um…sort of?” He winced again. Why did he say that? He should’ve just lied.

“What do you mean sort of? Either you’re alone or you aren’t.”

“It’s kind of hard to explain. Can you just come? Please? I-I can’t really say anything else over the phone.”

“I’m already on my way kid.” Happy said. “Just tell me, is this an I should bring back up kind of situation?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m not hurt.”

“Promise me.”

“I’m not hurt Happy. I promise.” He rolled his eyes again. “It’s just…well you’ll see when you get here.”

“There’s no flat tire, is there?”

“Um…no.”

“You’re a terrible liar kid.”

“Hey you believed me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this.” Happy huffed in frustration. “I’ll be there in a little under two hours, ok?”

“Ok. I’ll see you then.” Peter hung up.

“Happy’s coming?” Mr. Stark asked as soon as he pocketed his phone.

“Yeah.”

“You two seem like you’re getting along a lot better.” Tony said carefully. The man knew there’d never been any true animosity between him and Happy, but they’d never really been close either.

“Yeah he’s been good. Ever since you um…you know. He’s been trying. I think he feels sort of responsible for me now or something.” Peter shrugged.

“Good. I’m glad.” Tony said without any hint of jealousy.

“Really?” Peter asked as he sat back down on the couch, feeling drained.

Tony nodded and sat down next to him. “It’s how I would’ve wanted it. I’m sure Happy knew that.”

“Yeah, well, plus he’s dating May.” Peter said.

Tony looked flabbergasted. “May and Happy?”

“I know, right?” Peter rolled his eyes. “I just found out, but apparently they’ve been dating for months.”

Tony’s nose scrunched up as he thought about it. “I’m sorry kid.”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah tell me about it.”

“It’ll be ok.” Tony ruffled his hair with a smirk.

Peter sighed. “Yeah.”

“So Happy’s been good to you. What about everyone else? Anyone I need to beat up?”

That startled a small laugh out of him. “No. Actually everyone’s been pretty great to me. Especially Pepper. And um Rhodey.”

“Good.” Tony smiled and got a mischievous glint in his eye. “So they’re Pepper and Rhodey now?”

Peter rolled his eyes. That was something else that had changed. He’d always called them Ms. Potts and Mr. Rhodes before.

“I’m just saying.” Tony held his hands up. “You’re going to give me a complex if you’re calling everyone by their first names except for me.”

“Fine Tony.” He said, finally giving the man what he wanted.

Tony grinned, obviously delighted. “Who knew all I had to do was die to get you to finally agree to call me Tony.”

Peter scowled. “Not funny.”

Tony laughed and Peter didn’t resist when the man pulled him into a half hug. “God I missed you kid.”

“I missed you too.” Peter leaned into his side, the side that had been so badly burned before, but now never would be, because Peter had done the impossible.

“Now tell me. What’s everyone been up to since I’ve been gone? How’s Morgan?” Tony asked, still keeping an arm wrapped around him.

Peter smiled just thinking about how happy she was going to be to see her dad. “She’s great. She just turned five last week actually. We had her birthday party here…”

“Kid! Where the hell is your car? Because if you accidentally drove it into the lake or something and that’s why you called me and made me haul ass up here I swear to god…” Happy called out as he walked into the house. The man had gotten there faster than Peter had thought he would. It’d been an hour and a half since he’d talked to him. Only an hour and half of catching up with Tony. It hadn’t felt like even close to enough time.

“Um hey.” Peter came around the corner to greet the man.

“Yeah hi yourself.” Happy eyed him up and down, satisfied he was in one piece. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Ok so don’t freak out.” Peter held both hands up in front of him as if he could ward off such a reaction.

“You saying that is only making me freak out more.” Happy accused. “So start explaining.”

“I did something.” Peter blurted out.

Happy’s eyes narrowed.

“Something involving time travel.” He added.

“What did you do?” Happy asked with suspicion.

“It’s probably easier to show you rather than tell you.” Peter beckoned him forward and started walking back to the living room.

Happy followed him and took a few steps into the living room before he looked over at the couch and froze. He looked from Peter to the man on the couch, back to Peter again, and yelled, “What the fuck?”

“Hey Hap.” Tony said with a wide grin as he stood and held his arms out. “Did you miss me?”

Peter let out a little yelp of surprise when Happy grabbed the back of his shirt and roughly yanked him back so he was behind the man.

“Listen buddy I don’t know who you are or what you want—”

“Happy it’s me.” Tony insisted, amusement clear on his face.

“—but you keep the kid out of it.” Happy practically snarled.

“Happy.” Peter whined, trying to pull free but the man had too firm of a grip on him, and he didn’t want to use his full strength and accidentally hurt him. “Happy it’s really him. I-I went back in time to get him back.”

“Kid,” Happy looked at him, eyes unbelievably said, “you know the superfriends said you can’t go back in time and fix things so I don’t know what you—”

“I didn’t go back to try to fix anything. I went back and grabbed past him and brought him here.” Peter rapidly explained. “It’s really him. I swear.”

Happy’s jaw dropped and he blinked at Peter in shock. “You…”

His head snapped back toward Tony as he released Peter’s shirt.

“Boss?” He asked, hesitant but hopeful.

“Yeah Hap.” Tony smiled. “It’s really me.”

Happy crossed the distance between them and Tony held his arms out again in time for Happy to crash into them.

The two embraced for a solid minute and Peter didn’t hear anything but he swore he saw Happy’s shoulders shake like he was silently crying. Tony didn’t say anything as he hugged his friend and let him take as long as he needed. Peter watched from the other side of the living room, suddenly feeling like an interloper.

Eventually, Happy took a deep breath and stepped back, holding Tony out at arm’s length as his eyes catalogued every inch of his miraculously now alive friend.

“If you ever try to pull that self sacrificing shit again I swear to god I’ll kill you myself.” Happy growled.

Tony let out a giddy laugh, and then Happy erupted into laughter and they hugged again. This time when Happy pulled away he cupped Tony’s cheek in one hand and shook his head in consternation.

“Asshole.” Happy said and shoved Tony’s head so it jerked to the side.

Tony just laughed again.

“I’m assuming I still have my job?” Happy grumbled.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Tony joked.

Happy rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

“Sure. Job’s still yours.” Tony grinned. “The first thing I need you to do is call Rhodey and tell him to get his ass here. I need his help to figure out how to get the whole band back together without giving everyone heart attacks.”

“You got it.” Happy said, already pulling his phone out to comply.

As soon as Happy stepped away to make the call, Peter stepped in to take his spot near Tony. He was finding it hard to stay away from the man even if the distance was only across the room. He had some irrational worry that if he took his eyes off him he might disappear.

Tony’s eyes softened when they met his and he raised an arm up, an open invitation. Peter wasted no time ducking under it.

“Want to sit and wait with me?” Mr. Stark asked quietly so they wouldn’t disturb the conversation Happy was having on the phone with Rhodey.

Peter nodded. He’d practically been glued to the man’s side as they’d waited for Happy but Tony hadn’t seemed to mind.

“It might take awhile.” Tony warned as he guided him toward the couch and they sat down. “Honeybear’s never been the most prompt. I have no idea how he managed in the air force. Hell, one time at MIT…”

Mr. Stark kept talking but the words washed over Peter without registering. An annoying throbbing had developed behind his eyes, so he closed them. It helped a little. He leaned further into his Tony’s side, muscles loosening. He’d managed to stay awake until Happy arrived, but now that someone else was here to help and the responsibility no longer lay solely with him, his energy flagged. Happy was here. Mr. Stark was alive. Everything was finally ok. He didn’t fight it when sleep found him again.

Chapter Text

“He’s on his way.” Happy said once he got off the phone. “Said he should be here in about five minutes. He’s taking the suit.”

Tony nodded and glanced down at his kid, fast asleep against his shoulder. Peter’s skin was waxy pale and the circles under his eyes were so dark they almost looked like bruises. Tony had never seen the kid look this bad. He hadn’t looked like this when they’d shared the brief reunion and hug during the battle. His complexion had been healthy and he’d been his usual chipper self.

He brushed the kid’s hair back before he could stop himself. This kind of physical affection wasn’t something they’d ever really done before, but five years away from Peter and his experiences with Morgan had softened him.

“Do you want to take him to his room upstairs?” Happy offered.

“He has a room here?” He asked before a smile stretched across his face and he answered his own question, “Of course he does.”

And something in him ached at that. He hadn’t been there to give the kid his own room in his house. To tell him how much he’d missed him. How important he was to him. He’d missed out on that.

Tony stood, careful not to jostle Peter. He gathered the kid in his arms and lifted him up. Peter didn’t so much as twitch.

“Has he always been this light?” Tony asked Happy as he made his way toward the stairs.

“He’s lost weight.” Happy answered sadly. “He’s…had a hard time. I mean we all have but…the kid took it pretty hard. We’ve all been worried about him.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he studied the teenager in his arms.

“He hasn’t been eating. I don’t think he’s really been sleeping. But he won’t talk. He’s been pushing everyone away.” Happy continued as he led him to the door to Peter’s room, previously the guest bedroom directly across the hall from his and Pepper’s bedroom.

“Sounds familiar.” Tony muttered as he walked into the bedroom. Not exactly a personality trait of his he wanted Peter to emulate.

Happy snorted. “Yeah. He’s…a lot like you.”

“Not really a good thing.” Tony said, laying Peter down in the bed after Happy had pulled the covers back. He unlaced the kid’s shoes and dropped them to the floor.

“In some ways it is.” Happy said softly. “Going back in time to do something everyone said was impossible just because he couldn’t live in a world without someone he loved? I wonder where he learned that from. Who else would be crazy enough to do that?”

Tony gave his friend a scathing look as he pulled the bed sheets up to Peter’s chest. “Like I said, not a good thing.”

“I don’t know. I think it’s pretty great. What he did. Getting you back.” Happy smiled at him.

Tony huffed because he wasn’t sure what else to do in the face of such honest emotion. He had a bad feeling there’d be a lot more to come over the next couple days.

“He could’ve died.” He said with a shake of his head. “You have no idea. There were so many things that could’ve gone wrong.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Because he got lucky.” Tony argued.

“No.” Happy shook his head as they both looked down at the sleeping boy. “Because he’s like you.”

Tony scoffed. “I never wanted him to be like me.”

“I know. Good thing he’s not that great at listening.” Happy smirked.

“Another trait of mine?” Tony quirked an eyebrow at the subtle backhanded burn.

“You said it. I didn’t.” His friend held his hands up.

Tony rolled his eyes.

“So what you’re telling me is now I’ve got two mini me’s I have to deal with.”

“What can I say? Karma’s a bitch boss.” Happy grinned. “Maybe this is payback for all the times I had to clean your puke out of the car.”

Tony hummed. “Maybe.”

If it was, it didn’t seem so bad. Although he’d never admit it. He leaned down and flicked a flop of hair off Peter’s forehead so it wasn’t over his eye. The kid needed a haircut. He straightened back up and took another second to drink in the sight of Peter, whole and safe and asleep in his own designated room under Tony’s roof. This was how things were always supposed to be. This was what he’d envisioned when he’d risked everything to try to fix their biggest mistake. And apparently it’d worked. He smiled.

“Come on.” Happy’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Let’s let the kid get some sleep. God knows he needs it.”

Tony nodded and let Happy lead him out, closing Peter’s door behind them.

“Hey Hap? You here?” Rhodey’s voice called out from downstairs as the front door slammed shut.

“I’m upstairs! I’ll be right there.” Happy called back and gave Tony a sidelong look, wordlessly ordering him to keep quiet.

Tony listened for once and held a hand out, gesturing for Happy to lead the way.

As they made their way down the stairs, he could hear the sounds of bustling in the kitchen.

“Hey have you heard from the kid recently?” Rhodey asked. “It’s been radio silence for me for the past week. I’m starting to think he might be up to something.”

They rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen. Rhodey had his back to them as he poured coffee into a mug from the pot Tony had made earlier.

“Yeah you could say that.” Happy grumbled.

“What?” Rhodey asked, not quite hearing him. He turned around and froze. The mug in his hand fell to the ground and shattered, coffee staining the floor.

“That’s my favorite mug you just broke.” Tony complained. It was his black one with the words #1 Dad written on the side. Morgan had given it to him for Father’s Day last year.

Rhodey’s face stayed frozen in shock, eyes wide with his mouth agape.

“Like you said. The kid’s been up to something.” Happy said, jerking his head toward Tony as explanation.

Rhodey blinked. Swallowed. Blinked again. Tony waited. For him, he’d seen his friend only yesterday but for Rhodey it’d been months. And he was supposed to be dead.

“Is…” Rhodey’s gaze flicked from Happy’s to Tony’s back to Happy’s again. “Is this real?”

Happy nodded. “He about gave me a heart attack too. Apparently the kid went back in time, grabbed him and brought him here.”

Rhodey blinked again and closed his mouth as he took a tentative step forward. And then another. Tony stayed put while his friend crossed the distance between them, crunching over porcelain shards and tracking spilled coffee everywhere. Pepper wasn’t going to like that.

Rhodey stopped in front of him and held a shaky hand out toward him. It landed on his shoulder and the man jerked back as if he’d been burned.

“Shit.” Rhodey gasped. His eyes were as wide as saucers. The hand came back and this time Rhodey didn’t pull away when it met his shoulder. He squeezed it as if to ensure the solidness of it.

“Oh my god. You’re…” Rhodey looked from his hand up to Tony’s face, eyes filled with wonder. “You’re here.”

Tony smiled. “I am.”

He figured he’d waited enough. He pulled his friend into a hug. Rhodey went easily.

“You’re here. You’re alive.” Rhodey whispered and squeezed him as if letting go would mean he’d fade away.

His heart just about broke when Rhodey started to cry.

“Shit. Don’t cry honeybear.” Tony patted the man’s back, but his reassurance had the opposite effect and Rhodey only cried harder.

Tony turned beseeching eyes toward Happy but the man gave him and unsympathetic shrug. “Better get used to it boss.”

Rhodey calmed down and pulled away, wiping his face clean. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I can’t really believe this is happening.”

“Yeah it’s definitely weird.” Happy agreed. “But like a good weird. Don’t get me wrong.”

“You said Peter did this?” Rhodey asking, looking around for the kid.

“He’s sleeping upstairs.” Tony explained.

“He had a big day.” Happy added with a smirk.

“Apparently.” Rhodey agreed, eyeing Tony.

Tony scowled.

“So what’s the whole story?” Rhodey asked.

“You know everything I know.” Happy told him. Which wasn’t much.

Tony rubbed as his eyes. “I only know what the kid’s told me.”

“Yeah and that’s what exactly?” Rhodey asked, frowning.

“I don’t want to have to tell it over and over so why don’t we get the rest of the team here first and then I’ll explain everything and you guys can fill in the parts I’m missing. Like the last six months.”

“Six and a half.” Happy corrected.

“Fine. I’ll call the team. Most of them are at the compound anyway. It shouldn’t take them too long to get here.” Rhodey agreed.

“The compound?” Tony frowned. Last he saw the compound was a pile of rubble.

“We rebuilt it.” Rhodey explained.

“Right.”

“You know you should really clean this up.” Rhodey pointed to the mess on the floor as he pulled out his phone. “Before Morgan gets home and cuts herself.”

Tony glared at him.

Rhodey barked out a surprised laugh and said, “Yeah that. Right there. I missed that.”

“Smart ass.” He mumbled but as Rhodey dialed a number on his phone, Tony walked toward the closet where they kept the broom. Rhodey had a point. He wouldn’t want Morgan to accidentally step on a stray piece of porcelain. Or Peter. The kid had a habit of walking around barefoot inside. Something he had to worry about again. His lips twitched into a smile. When he thought about how surreal it was that he finally had his kid back after five long years, he realized he could empathize with what everyone else must be going through right now with having him back. Not a bad problem to have, though. Not at all.

The reunion with the rest of the Avengers went about as well as the ones before.

Tony couldn’t remember ever getting so many hugs in one day. Or having so many people cry on him.

“Ok ok that’s enough.” He pried Scott off from where he was blubbering on his shoulder. “I mean seriously I barely know you.”

“Yeah you’re right. I’m sorry.” Scott pulled back but as soon as he looked at him again he dove back in for another hug. “It’s just so great to have you back.”

Tony held his arms out awkwardly, not wanting to hug back and encourage it, but not sure what to do with them. He looked around for help and caught Rhodey chuckling next to him. Yeah he wouldn’t find any help there. And the rest of them looked equally amused and fond. He was clearly on his own.

“Ok yep uh-huh. Missed you too. You can let go now.” He pushed at Scott’s shoulders again and this time he released him and stepped away.

It was all a bit much.

He didn’t how to react to all the proof that he’d been so missed. That he’d been so loved. That his absence had hurt everyone so much.

“Sorry.” Scott said again.

“It’s all right. We’ll call it even since my kid stole the Pym particles from your suit.” He said breezily as he clapped Scott on the shoulder.

“Wait. What?” Scott frowned.

“I’ll explain in a sec.” He said and took a couple steps forward so he was in the middle of an impromptu circle of Avengers in his living room. “Now that we’re all here…”

He frowned. But they weren’t all there. Someone was glaringly absent.

“Or not.” He frowned. “Wait a minute. Where’s Cap?”

“He’s not here.” Sam answered.

“Obviously he’s not here. I just said that.” Tony snarked.

“Oh how I’ve missed that trademark Stark sarcasm.” Clint smirked.

“Where is he?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

The rest of the team shared heavy glances, but no one answered. Oh shit.

“Is he dead?” Tony guessed, eyes widening. He’d died and so had Cap?

“No. He’s not dead.” Bruce answered. “He’s just…old.”

Tony scoffed, “He’s always been old. He was born in 1918.”

“No he’s like actually old now.” Sam answered. “He’s aged.”

Tony shook his head, flummoxed. “What?”

“After Thanos, Steve went back in time to return the stones.” Bruce chimed in.

Tony nodded. Like they’d planned.

“And he uh…he didn’t come back.” Bruce said.

“What do you mean he didn’t come back?” Tony couldn’t make sense of it.

“He stayed back in the past and lived out his life.” Bruce explained.

Tony knew he must’ve been making the most gobsmacked expression.

Which was probably why Bruce added, “He’s an old man now. Really. He’s retired.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose trying to come to terms with this new information. “So you’re telling me that I died saving the universe and Cap survived. But instead of sticking around to help out with everything he fucked off to the past to live out the entirety of his life in peace? White picket fence, wife, dog, all of that?”

He was met with nods all around. Jesus.

“You know, I wish I could say I’m surprised but…” Tony shook his head in consternation. “That sounds about right.”

For once, no one argued with him.

“So if Cap is gone and I was gone, who’s leading the dream team?” Tony asked. To be fair, quite a few other people were missing as well. Rhodey had told him that Thor had run off with that Quill moron and his band of idiots. And Wanda had essentially disappeared somewhere in Europe, not dealing well with Vision’s loss.

“I am.” Sam answered unapologetically.

Tony eyed him up and down. The man didn’t falter. Tony was surprised but not surprised at the same time.

“Fine.” Tony said and clapped his hands together. “So…here’s what I know.”

He told them everything he’d gleamed from Peter with a few helpful additions from FRIDAY along the way.

By the end everyone looked a little shell shocked.

“I never even thought of that.” Bruce admitted, rubbing his chin in thought.

Tony held his arms out, palms upturned in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

“He’s a smart little shit huh?” Clint smirked.

“Hey.” Tony chastised and pointed a finger at the man. “He’s my little shit so only I get to call him that.”

“Uh huh. Where’s the little shit now?” Sam asked.

“He’s here.” Tony said. “He’s taking a well deserved nap upstairs.”

“So…not to be like a downer or anything but what does this mean?” Scott asked. “This didn’t like break the universe or something, did it?”

Tony blinked. He hadn’t really thought about that. How could he not have thought of that before?

Bruce was already shaking his head. “No. At least not any worse than we already have.”

That didn’t sound good.

“What does that mean?” Tony asked him.

“Well you know how we tried to keep from changing anything when we went back to get the stones, but we didn’t really succeed? According to Strange, we’ve already irreparably damaged the time line. Caused numerous aberrant realities.” Bruce answered with a shrug. “This is just going to cause another one.”

“So…” Tony frowned. “I created a divergent reality by coming here.”

Logically, he knew that had to be the case. He understood as well as Bruce about the warning the weird mystic lady had given them. It’s why they’d tried to return all the stones, so they wouldn’t fracture the timeline. He just hadn’t really thought about the actual consequences of Peter’s time traipse adventure before now. He was leaving an entire other Pepper, Morgan, and Peter without him.

“The only way to fix it would be if I returned to the moment Peter took me.” He mumbled, thinking out loud.

“You’re not going back.” Happy said vehemently.

“Do I need to?” Tony asked Bruce, staring intently at him, ignoring Happy’s protestation.

“Maybe we should talk to Strange.” Bruce said, not breaking eye contact.

Tony’s lips thinned as he nodded.

“I don’t care what the wizard says. You’re not going back.” Happy said more insistently.

Tony turned his gaze on him.

“You can’t go back.” Happy said, practically pleading with him. “You can’t. It’ll kill the kid.”

Tony rubbed his eyes wearily. He didn’t want to go back, not if it meant death. But could he really doom an entire timeline out of selfishness? He needed more information.

He looked back at Bruce and nodded. “Call Strange.”

The wizard was about as helpful as Tony figured he’d be. Which was not at all.

“So you’re saying I don’t have to go back.” Tony clarified after a long winded and overly detailed explanation from the man.

“I’m saying,” Dr. Strange sighed, “that even if you go back at this point, knowing what you know, there’s a negligible likelihood the events will play out the exact same way, so the timeline has already been fractured. The damage is already done.”

“So I don’t have to go back.” Tony reiterated.

Dr. Strange glared at him. “Not unless you want to try to die again.”

“Yeah I think I’d rather skip that.” Tony joked even as his stomach sunk. He was beyond elated not to be dead, but he couldn’t help but think of all the damage done in the new aberrant reality by his disappearance.

“Good call.” Rhodey agreed. All around, everyone in the room looked relieved. None of them had wanted to get him back just to lose him again.

“What’s going to happen in the timeline I left?” Tony asked Strange. “Do you know? Do they win?”

Strange looked away for a moment and pursed his lips before meeting his eyes again and answering with a solemn nod, “They win.”

Tony couldn’t help but feel like the other man was lying, but before he could call him out on it, Clint interjected, “So if the rugrat could bring Tony forward and everything still turns out fine, why can’t we do the same thing for Nat?”

Everyone looked to Strange, wondering the same thing. And god, did Tony want that. Had Peter figured out a way for them to essentially live happily ever after?

But Strange shook his head. “You can’t. She’s too intrinsically tied with the infinity stones.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Dr. Strange sighed but explained, “If you were to go back and take Natasha forward it’d have to be before she sacrificed herself for the soul stone. The new reality created would be doomed to never reverse the snap. But if that’s something you can live with, then by all means, go get her.”

“Nat would never want that.” Clint said.

There were nods of agreement from everyone, including Tony.

“Ok so we can’t save Nat.” Bruce said sadly. “What about Vision? If we brought him forward before Thanos got to him, wouldn’t we be completely saving that new reality from the snap?”

Dr. Strange’s head cocked almost imperceptibly to the side as he considered it.

“That would work.” He agreed after a few seconds.

“So we do it.” Sam said decisively.

“We’ll need more Pym particles.” Rhodey said.

“I can get more from Hank.” Scott said. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We can move the time travel equipment to the compound tomorrow and work on it there.” Bruce suggested. “Someone should call Wanda.”

“I will.” Clint offered.

“This is all very touching,” Dr. Strange said, sounding his particular brand of sarcastic, “but it still doesn’t solve the problem of what we’re going to do about the infinity stones.”

“I say we destroy them.” Clint said.

“I agree.” Bruce nodded.

“I’m taking the time stone back. I’ve been charged with its protection.” Dr. Strange said. “The other stones you can destroy. Except for the soul stone.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked.

“It’s difficult to explain. Suffice it to say, it’s too intertwined in the universe and the souls within it to be destroyed.”

“So what? We have to return it?” Rhodey frowned.

“That’s what I would suggest.” Dr. Strange nodded.

“Fine.” Tony ran a ran through his hair. “So Houdini here gets the time stone back, we return the soul stone, and all the other ones we destroy. Agreed?”

Everyone gave their assent.

“We’re going to need Wanda to do it.” Bruce said.

“Like I said, I’ll call her and explain things to her.” Clint said.

“In the meantime you take the gauntlet with you.” Tony said, aiming the statement at Sam. “I don’t want it here. You have a place to store it in the compound, right?”

“We do.” Sam nodded.

“Ok. I’ll go get it. The sooner it’s out of the here, the better.” Tony said and walked down to his workshop.

He took the gauntlet out of the secure storage locker he’d put it in and brought it back up with him to the living room.

“Shit.” Clint swore when he caught sight of it.

Everyone else had similar expressions of terror on their faces at seeing the gold gauntlet with all the infinity stones in person.

“Here.” Tony handed it to Dr. Strange, who took it and waved a hand over it.

The green stone sparkled and disappeared as it manifested back in the wizard’s necklace.

“Thank you.” Dr. Strange gave him a nod and handed the gauntlet back.

Tony wasted no time handing it over to Sam.

“Keep it safe.” He said as the other man took it.

“We will.” Sam nodded.

“It’s caused enough trouble already.” Tony muttered.

“You can say that again.” Clint agreed.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything else, the front door slammed open with a crash. It was the only way Morgan knew how to open a door nowadays.

“Pepper wait—” Rhodey said suddenly in warning.

“What’s going on? What’s everyone doing here?” Pepper asked. He could hear the irritation in her voice and wondered if she’d had a rough day at work.

He turned around. Their eyes met across the room with an intensity that sparked like electricity.

“Oh my god.” Peppers eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth.

“Hey Pep.” He smiled, trying not to scare her since as far as she knew he was supposed to be dead and all. She stayed rooted to the ground, face the epitome of shock.

Morgan, on the other hand, had absolutely no reservations.

“Daddy!” She squealed and ran to him. He grabbed her and lifted her seamlessly into his arms. Like he’d done countless times before.

“Hi baby.” He greeted softly as his daughter wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“I missed you Daddy.” She said into his neck.

“I missed you too baby.” He said even though it’d only been a couple days for him. It still wasn’t a lie. He missed her every second he was away from her.

He kissed the side of her head but kept his eyes locked on Pepper. She still hadn’t moved. Rhodey and Happy hurried to her side.

“Jim what?” Pepper grasped Rhodey’s shoulder once he got close enough, as if she might topple over without the support.

“It’s him Pepper. It’s Tony. He’s back.” Rhodey reassured her.

“How?” She looked like she was staring at a ghost.

“The kid went back in time and got him back.”

“Peter?”

Happy nodded.

“Where is he? Is he ok?” Pepper glanced around, frantically searching for him. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so scattered.

“He’s fine. He’s asleep in his room.” Happy answered.

Pepper nodded and went back to staring at Tony.

“And this…” Pepper gestured towards him. “He’s-he’s…here? You see him too right? I’m not…going crazy?”

“You’re not going crazy. He’s here. It’s really Tony. He’s back.” Rhodey told her calmly.

He took a step toward her. If he had to wait another second to comfort her, he thought he might go crazy.

He readjusted Morgan so he could hold her with arm, freeing his other arm so he could hold it out toward Pepper.

“Pep.” He entreated.

It finally seemed to be enough to break the spell.

“Tony.” She said and it was part smile and part cry as she crossed the distance between them.

Once she was close enough, Tony pulled her in and Pepper wrapped her arms around him and Morgan. Tony smiled. He had both of his favorite girls in his arms.

She squeezed him so tight it almost hurt.

“Tony Tony Tony.” Pepper whispered brokenly as she buried a hand in his hair.

“I’m here honey. I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered back. “I never wanted to leave you. You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to leave you.”

“I know. I know.” Pepper’s voice broke and she started shaking as sobs erupted from her.

“Shh honey. It’s ok.” He soothed. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Pepper pulled herself together fairly quickly. She was one of the strongest people he knew by far. She took a deep breath and wiped her cheeks. Even with a tear stained face, she was beautiful.

He gave her a winning smile and she leaned in and kissed him. Her hand cradled the back of his neck and once the kiss stopped she kept her face close to his with their foreheads pressed together.

“I love you.” She whispered.

“I love you too.” He told her and went in for another kiss.

By the time they’d finished their heartfelt reunion, the Avengers had all cleared out of the room to give them some privacy. Which was probably good seeing as how Pepper couldn’t seem to stop kissing him.

“I could get used to this.” He mumbled.

She kissed his cheek and then the corner of his mouth and then straight on his lips again, tongue diving in to dance in his mouth. He hummed his approval but ended the kiss and pulled back. Things were starting to get a little too heated. And he got it. He did. He knew exactly what he’d want to do with Pepper if he’d thought she’d been dead for a half a year and then miraculously reappeared. But they couldn’t. Not while they had a house full of Avengers with a kid upstairs and another one in his arms.

Without his mouth to occupy hers, she moved to his neck, trailing a line of sensual kisses down it as she palmed the side of his face.

“Pep. Pep, we can’t.” He whispered.

Pepper hummed and landed a kiss by his ear and then moved to his ear lobe.

His eyes practically rolled. Oh god.

Maybe they could just run upstairs quick. Rhodey could babysit. It wasn’t as if the world was ending right now. For once. Everything could wait.

“Honey you’re killing me.” He groaned at the gentle suction on his ear lobe between her teeth.

She stopped and he didn’t know if he sighed out of relief or disappointment.

“Later?” She whispered seductively.

“Later.” He agreed, practically babbling. “Yes later. Definitely later.”

Pepper kissed his cheek again and stepped away, putting a couple feet of space between them.

“What’s later Daddy?” Morgan asked curiously, picking her head up off his shoulder.

He gave her his full attention. “Um nothing. Just some uh boring grown up stuff Mommy and I need to…do.”

Pepper’s laughter didn’t help.

Morgan’s nose scrunched like she knew he was pulling something over on her but wasn’t sure what.

Before she could ask something else, he leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

She giggled, appropriately distracted. Success.

She brought her little hand up and set it against his cheek.

“Daddy?” She asked.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Where were you?”

His breath caught. He didn’t how to explain that he’d actually been dead but now he magically wasn’t.

“Daddy had to go away, but he’s back now.” Pepper, amazing Pepper, swooped in to explain.

“How’d he come back?” Morgan asked her.

“Well, you see Morgan, your brother missed daddy so much he went and found him and brought him back to us.” Pepper said softly.

Brother? Tony blinked in confusion.

He figured out who they meant a split second later when Morgan asked, “Petey brought daddy back?”

Pepper nodded. Tony knew he had to be missing something, missing a lot of somethings probably, but his heart still warmed at the familiarity with which Morgan and Pepper both addressed his kid. The kid he’d come to think of as a son.

“Are you going to go away again?” Morgan asked him sadly and Tony could tell she was afraid of the answer.

Tony brushed the hair back from her face. “No baby. I’m not going to go away ever again. Not if I can help it.”

“Ok.” Morgan gave him a small smile. “I didn’t like it when you were away.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead.

“It’s ok. I forgive you.” She beamed at him and patted his cheek.

Tony let out a little laugh. “You’re definitely your mother’s daughter.”

She cocked her head at him like she was trying to figure out if he meant that as a good or a bad thing.

“So…” Tony looked over at Pepper.

“So?” She quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“What do we do now?” He could only imagine the shitstorm that was going to come from his miraculous return from the dead all the things that needed to be done.

“Now.” She smiled and her whole face lit up. God he loved her. “We celebrate.”

Chapter Text

“Petey.” Someone whispered and a second later a hand tapped at his face. “Wake up Petey.”

Peter groaned and tried to roll away. He was still so tired. He didn’t want to get up.

“Petey.” The voice whined, and he was awake enough at this point to recognize it as Morgan’s.

Dang. There was no way he was going to get to keep sleeping now that she wanted his attention.

A second later the bed shook as she jumped up on it.

“Wake up.” She shook his shoulder forcefully and complained. “You’ve been sleeping for forever.”

He turned onto his back and peeked an eye open at her.

“Forever huh? What time is it?” He croaked, the words scratched the back of his throat and his head pounded.

“Late.” Morgan answered. “Mommy and Daddy sent me to bed.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

“Because I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Everyone’s downstairs.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Daddy’s friends.”

Peter frowned.

“The Vengers.” She clarified.

“The A-vengers.” He corrected.

“That’s what I said.”

Peter blew out a short puff of air through his nose as the corners of his mouth turned up.

“That’s not the only reason I couldn’t sleep.” Morgan confessed, nibbling on her bottom lip. A bad habit she’d acquired after Tony had died, and one Peter always felt he couldn’t chastise her for since he did the same thing himself.

“Ok. Why else?” He used his thumb to pop her lip free. He could guess why she couldn’t sleep. She had to be wound up with all the excitement of having her dad back. He wouldn’t be able to sleep either if he wasn’t feeling so rough.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Morgan said, not the reason he expected.

Peter smiled. That was kind of sweet.

Morgan crawled closer to him until she was practically sitting on top of him.

“Mommy said you brought daddy back home.”

“I did.” He nodded.

She smiled brightly at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

She leaned in and whispered, “You’re the best big brother ever.”

“Yeah?” He smiled, heart warming like it only ever did around Morgan.

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“What about now?” His hands darted out to playfully tickle her sides.

She burst into giggles and flopped onto the bed, writhing at the tickle torture.

“N-no Petey!” She slapped at his hands.

He kept tickling.

“Petey stop.” She giggled melodically, the sound soothing something in him that he didn’t know needed soothing.

“Please.” She begged through the laughter.

“Ok.” He relented. “Since you asked so politely.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and took the opportunity to make her escape. She slid off the bed and out of his reach.

“Will you come downstairs with me?” She asked hopefully.

“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping.” Peter raised an eyebrow at her.

“I am, but if you come with me maybe they’ll let me stay.” She explained, overly bright for a just turned five year old.

He considered it. He didn’t think he had the energy to deal with all the Avengers right now, but he also really wanted to see Tony again. To reassure himself that the man was still here. Still alive.

“Please?” Morgan tried a new tactic and gave him puppy eyes.

That was all it took for Peter to give in.

“Fine.” He sighed and crawled out of bed, running a hand through his hair and hoping he didn’t look as terrible as he felt. “But you owe me little miss.”

Morgan nodded solemnly and then as if a switch flipped, her whole body seemed to thrum with excitement. How could Pepper and Tony have thought this kid was ready to go to sleep?

“Come on.” She insisted as she grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the stairs.

As they walked down the stairs, Peter caught sight of the Avengers milling about in the living room. He just hoped he wasn’t about to get yelled at by all of the them for what he’d done.

“Well look who it is.” Sam spotted him first as they cleared the last few steps at the bottom of the staircase. “The hero of the day.”

Peter’s face twisted at that. He didn’t consider himself any kind of hero. Everyone turned their attention toward him and Morgan released his hand to run over toward her parents on the couch. They didn’t seem too upset about her still being awake.

“Hey kid.” Clint greeted with a clap against his shoulder. “Heard we have you to thank for the return of the village idiot.”

“Hey!” Tony protested in mock offense as Peter gave the archer a reserved smile.

“Yeah. Good work Peter.” Professor Hulk patted him on the back and sent him flying a couple feet forward. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” Peter reassured him.

The rest of the Avengers took their turn saying hello and congratulating him, which was much better than the verbal flogging he’d been expecting. He smiled throughout the good natured ribbing and even let Rhodey thrust a plate full of food into his hands. He nibbled at it as they talked and joked around, managing to eat a little over half of the food on it before giving up and setting the plate on the coffee table.

Once things calmed down and all the Avengers had finally moved onto other rowdy discussions, leaving him alone, Pepper came over and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you Peter.” She whispered into his ear. “Thank you.”

She gave him a peck on the cheek and released him, smiling with a sparkle in her eye for the first time since Tony’s death.

After Pepper let him go, Peter’s feet led him straight to Tony’s side as if led by some kind of invisible string.

“Hey. How are you doing?” Tony asked from where he sat on the couch, Morgan tucked against his side, already fast asleep. Apparently she’d been more tired than she’d seemed.

Peter shrugged. Honestly, he wasn’t sure. Everything seemed better now that Tony was back but physically, he still wasn’t feeling so hot.

“You didn’t eat much.” Tony observed, gesturing to the half eaten plate of food on the coffee table.

Peter shrugged again, not sure what he was supposed to say to that.

Tony eyed him and then patted the empty couch seat on his side that wasn’t already occupied by Morgan. “Come sit.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He plopped down heavily next to Tony. As he settled in, Tony wrapped an arm around him and pulled him even closer into his side. Before, Peter might’ve fought it for appearances sake, but now he gladly gave into it. He rested his head against Tony’s shoulder and let his eyes slip to half mast.

He watched as the Avengers continued their celebration. Their antics brought a mix of amusement and chagrin, but Peter could tell everyone was happy and relieved to have Tony back. They weren’t going to yell at him, or worse, make him send Tony back. Even Dr. Strange seemed oddly content. He hadn’t said much to Peter but the fact that he was there and not talking about how Peter’s actions were going to result in the world ending as they knew it, meant that everything must be mostly ok.

Still, it never hurt to check.

“You’re staying right?” Peter mumbled the question against his mentor’s shoulder.

“Yeah I’m staying kid.” Tony replied with uncharacteristic softness.

“Good.” Peter sighed and let his eyes slide the rest of the way shut.

Everything would be ok now that Tony was here.

The party continued on into the early hours of the morning. Neither Tony nor Pepper had the heart to shut it down any earlier. They were celebrating his resurrection after all.

The alcohol flowed and their antics turned from amusing to ridiculous.

Tony watched it all with a smile on his face from his spot on the couch. He could’ve gotten up to join everyone but that would’ve meant dislodging Peter and Morgan, something he wasn’t apt to do. He’d dreamed of this moment. Not often because it’d always hurt too much to think of what he’d lost, but sometimes a stray wish or thought would pop into his head. And now he had it. Both his kids, safe, and here with him. One in each arm, fast asleep against him.

“You look happy.” Pepper stood in front of him, a wide smile on her face. She’d already snapped a picture of them earlier.

“I am.” He admitted.

“Me too.”

He smiled and looked down at the tops of Morgan’s and Peter’s heads resting on his chest only inches apart.

Over six months had passed. Morgan had turned another year older, and Peter… Tony sighed and tried to peer at Peter’s face. Peter looked haunted in a way he’d never seen him look before.

“I feel like I missed a lot.” Tony said, glancing back up at Pepper who was still looking on in contentment.

“You did.”

“You going tell me about it?” He asked, even though he wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to know.

Pepper stepped closer and ran a hand through his hair. “Not tonight.”

“Hmm.” He closed his eyes at the comfort. “Tomorrow?”

“Maybe not tomorrow either.” She said and he heard something sad in her answer.

He opened his eyes and found hers. He could see his loss had been tough on her, had wounded her deeply in a way she was trying to cover but couldn’t completely hide.

“When?” He asked easily, not pushing. If the answer was never, he’d accept that.

A shadow crossed her eyes as she answered, “Someday.”

“Ok.” He whispered and tried to pour all his feeling of love and affection toward her in his gaze.

She caressed his cheek and leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive. He had his two amazing kids settled against him, his wonderful wife right in front of him, and all his friends close by. He was thankful to be alive. This…this was his perfect world. As he’d always envisioned it. As it was always meant to be.

Pepper stood.

“I’m going to head to bed.” She told him and then quirked an eyebrow and asked, “Are you going to join me?”

He grinned like the cheshire cat. “Of course.”

“I’ll take this one,” Pepper said as she leaned down to gather Morgan carefully in her arms and then nodded toward Peter, “if you take that one.”

“Square deal.” Tony agreed, wrestling with Peter’s lanky limbs once Pepper had Morgan free. He managed to maneuver Peter into his arms and stood, being careful to lift with his legs, so he didn’t throw out his back. Peter was light but he wasn’t that light.

Pepper was already halfway up the stairs with Morgan, leaving him with the task of kicking out their guests. He snorted. Some things never changed.

He cupped his palm against Peter’s ear and pressed the kid’s head against his chest so the other ear would be as well insulated, hopefully it would be enough to keep him from waking up. In his experience, the kid slept like the dead.

“Hey listen up!” He yelled, drawing everyone’s attention. “It’s time to call it a night. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

Everyone gave halfhearted protests, but they gave in easily enough. Luckily, Dr. Strange had stayed and enjoyed a couple drinks himself so he was available to portal everyone back home with relative ease since most of them weren’t in any shape to drive.

“Thanks doc.” Tony thanked once everyone was gone.

“You’re welcome. Would you like some help with him?” The man nodded toward Peter.

“That’d be great.” He said, not too proud to agree. The kid was starting to get heavy in his arms.

Dr. Strange portaled them up to Peter’s room.

“Thanks.” Tony smirked at the doctor. “Don’t be a stranger now.”

Dr. Strange rolled his eyes. “Good night Stark.”

“Good night.”

The man disappeared in a shower of gold.

Tony carefully set Peter down in his bed, but he must not have been quite careful enough.

The kid let out a small groan and his eyes flickered open. “Tony?”

Tony shushed him. It was second nature. Something he did to Morgan all the time. Although now that he thought about it, he’d never done it to Peter.

“Time’sit?” Peter’s word slurred together as he rolled with a sigh into his pillow.

Tony covered him with the blankets as he answered, barely above a whisper, “Bed time. Go back to sleep.”

“No’tired.” Peter murmured and Tony couldn’t help the amused smile that spread across his face. He’d heard identical protests from Morgan her entire life.

“Hmm. You seem pretty tired to me kiddo.” He said, tucking the blankets around Peter’s shoulders.

“Don’wana wake up.” Peter mumbled. “An’ fin’out this wassa dream.”

Tony’s breath hitched. He sat on the bed and rested his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“It’s not a dream kid.” He said quietly and rubbed Peter’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll be here in the morning.”

Peter hummed, more asleep than awake at this point. Tony wasn’t even sure if he was registering what he was saying. Tony watched as his face slackened.

“I’m here for you now.” Tony whispered, but Peter was already asleep. “I’m here.”

He watched Peter sleep, peaceful and alive, for another couple minutes, eyes unexpectedly filling with tears at the relief of having his kid back. He knew everyone was probably feeling the same way about him, but all he could seem to think about or focus on was how he had Peter back. He had his kid back. And he wasn’t going to be stupid and hold back anymore. He had a second chance and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

Peter sucked in a sharp breath of air and shot straight up in bed.

A dream. It’d only been a dream. A dream a dream a dream.

A nightmare.

Peter was at the lake house. Tony was alive and safe. He wasn’t lying dead on the ground, hurt beyond saving. That wasn’t his reality anymore.

His short staccato breaths echoed thunderous into the quiet night. He tried to catch them and gain control over himself, tried to slow his breathing, but he couldn’t. He threw the covers back and practically catapulted out of bed. The world spun violently and he collapsed backward to sit on the bed.

He hung his head between his knees, trying to banish the sudden faintness as he tried to garner control over his breaths. Sucking in air deeply through his nose before pausing and releasing it with a huff through his mouth.

“I’m ok. It’s ok. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. Not anymore. He’s ok. He’s alive. He’s alive. That didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.” He whispered like a prayer to himself. He clenched his fists so hard he worried his fingernails would draw blood.

He took a deep breath and held it for as long as could before letting it out with a loud gasp.

Ok. It was ok. He was ok.

He needed…a drink of water.

He licked his lips and stood again. The ground tilted but he kept his feet and somehow made it through the door and down to the kitchen.

He grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with tap water. As he raised it to his lips, he noticed his hand was shaking but not so badly that he couldn’t manage. He drained the entire glass and set it down next to the sink.

He knew he should go back to sleep, but he also knew there was absolutely no chance of that happening.

He stared blankly at his hands, shaking in front of him, before he clenched them into fists and rubbed at his eyes with them. He turned away from the sink and walked silently out the door, making his way down to the dock.

The moon illuminated the way. When he got to the end of the dock, he sat down. He shivered, dressed only in his jeans and long sleeved shirt, but the tremors matched the ones in his hands and that almost made him feel better. Like his entire body was finally in sync and the shaking was only a result of the cold instead of his own fears and anxieties.

He puffed out a breath and it ghosted in the cold air. The last time he’d been out here, at the end of the dock staring out at the water like this, it’d been for Tony’s funeral. He’d watched the wreath with the arc reactor float away in the water. It didn’t look the same now. The lake was frozen. And Tony was back. He wasn’t dead. No matter what his nightmares said.

He scrunched his eyes shut and brought his knees to his chest, squeezing his arms tight around them, curling into a ball, partially for warmth and partially for comfort. He stared up at the sky blanketed in stars. Tony was here with him now, but somewhere in some other alternate reality he’d created, another Peter had lost his own Mr. Stark.

He’d taken Tony away from another Morgan and Pepper, from another entire universe. He could tell himself all day long that if he hadn’t, Tony would’ve ended up dead anyway, but it didn’t change the fact that he was the one that’d taken him. He might’ve doomed another reality. What did that mean? Did it matter? He could try to tell himself over and over again that it didn’t, but he knew it did.

It was the whole philosophical reasoning behind standing back and allowing a stranger to die if it meant saving three other people versus being the one to actively kill a stranger if it meant saving three other people. In this case, he’d performed the action. He’d taken Mr. Stark instead of allowing events to run their course. It didn’t matter that the end result was still the same for that reality, still a life without Tony, because Peter had caused it this time.

He couldn’t escape the subsequent guilt, and he couldn’t help but wonder if depriving them of the man had doomed their reality. Had Peter caused the death of an entire universe?

Trillions of people, as numerous as the stars, abruptly extinguished, wiped out from existence.

The stars twinkling above suddenly brought him no comfort.

If his actions had destroyed another universe, was there ever any coming back from that?

If he’d know his choice would result in that alternate reality’s destruction, would he still make the same decision again if he had the chance?

He didn’t know.

He shook harder.

But Thanos couldn’t have killed everyone, his mind reasoned, because Peter had been careful to bring the gauntlet forward with Tony. Thanos wouldn’t have been able to snap everyone away, even if he did beat the Avengers. Unless Thanos time traveled again and got a gauntlet from the past and used it, but that would create a different reality again, not the one Peter had created. And if that happened, would it still be Peter’s fault?

His head hurt just thinking about it. Although his head had been hurting before. All night actually. He took stock of himself. Besides his head, his throat ached. Sometime in the night it’d turned from scratchiness to actual pain. He felt…but he couldn’t be… Was he sick? The second he thought it, a body jarring cough broke free and he sniffled.

But he couldn’t get sick. At least he didn’t think he could. He hadn’t been sick since before the bite, unless that’d just been luck instead of a result of his powers. Now that he thought about it, he sure felt sick now. It explained the body aches and the unrelenting fatigue. He supposed it wasn’t surprising given how little he’d been eating and sleeping and taking care of himself lately.

He cleared his throat with another cough and rubbed at his nose. It was as if the act of realizing he was sick instantly made it worse.

“Kid?” Tony’s voice called out softly from behind him.

Peter twisted and watched as his mentor stepped onto the dock and made his way toward him. He didn’t say anything else as he sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into his side like he had earlier on the couch. Peter wasn’t used to such easy affection coming from Tony yet, but he had to admit it was nice. He decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” Tony asked.

Peter shrugged.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Peter hesitated and then nodded. It was true enough. It wasn’t the sole reason he was out here thinking about his possible hand in the destruction of an entire universe, but it was part of it.

“I get them too.” Tony said. Peter looked over at the man in surprise at the uncharacteristically honest admission, but Tony kept staring straight ahead out across the lake.

Peter’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked back at the ice covered lake. They’d never done this before, talked about serious stuff. Emotional stuff. Not that it was bad, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it, what to say next.

“Is that why you’re up too?” He asked. His voice sounded rough to his own ears.

“Not tonight.” Tony said. “FRIDAY told me you were out here.”

“Oh.” Peter felt kind of bad about that. Tony never got enough sleep as it was. “You didn’t have to come out here you know. I’ll be fine. I’m-I’m fine.”

Tony looked over at him and Peter reflexively met his gaze.

“Are you?” Tony asked somberly.

No. God no. Tony didn’t even know the half of it.

And he couldn’t lie to the man, so he stayed silent, breaking the eye contact.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” Tony mumbled, rubbing a hand up and down Peter’s shoulder as he shivered. “But that’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

Even though he had Tony back, had everything he’d wanted, wished for, begged for, he still wasn’t sure if he’d ever be completely all right again. Even with Tony’s return, the Peter from before hadn’t magically reappeared. It seemed like that Peter was gone. The things he’d been through and the last six months had changed him. Forever.

“I watched you die in my arms.” Tony broke the heavy silence with a whisper, and Peter met his gaze again. “Helpless to stop it…because I failed. And I spent the last five years trying to figure out how to live in a world without you.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

“I’m not fine either kid.” Tony finished his confession. “But we’ll figure it out together. Ok?”

Peter sniffed as he nodded.

“Ok.” Tony nodded back. “How about we start by going inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“O-ok.” Peter agreed, teeth chattering.

Tony stood and held out a hand, helping him to his feet. He slung an arm around him and together they walked back into the house. Tony led him up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“You got any PJ’s here?” Tony asked as he sat him down on the bed.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Second drawer of the dresser.” Peter pointed to said piece of furniture.

Tony grabbed a soft grey sleep t-shirt and a pair of navy cotton pajama pants from the drawer and tossed them onto the bed next to him.

“Why don’t you change into these. I guarantee they’ll be more comfortable than what you’re wearing right now.” Tony advised.

“Yeah.” It was true.

“I’ll be right back.” Tony said as he left the room, giving him the privacy to change.

Peter had more than enough time to shed his clothes, pull the soft sleepwear on, and crawl under the covers before Tony returned with a glass of water in hand.

He set it on Peter’s nightstand, smiling when he noticed the photo of the two of them there.

“You swiped my pic kid.” The man joked as he sat down on the bed.

“It’s mine now.” Peter smiled into his pillow.

“I guess we’ll have to take more pictures together then, so I can get a suitable replacement.”

“Or you could always make a copy of this one.”

“I like my idea better.”

“Hm. Me too.”

Tony brushed his hair back off his forehead, something else the man had never done before. A peculiar look crossed his face and he brought his hand back and held his palm flat against Peter’s forehead.

“What?” Peter asked.

“You feel kind of warm.” Tony frowned.

“I’m not warm. I’m cold.” He argued, still shivering even under the covers.

Tony’s frown deepened and he flipped his hand, pressing the back of it against his forehead and then his cheek, the same technique May used when she checked for a fever. It was such a dad move, and Tony did it as if it was effortless, second nature. But then Peter remembered Tony was a dad now. Had been for five years. He probably didn’t even realize or remember that this was unfamiliar behavior for him and Peter.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled and tried to twist away only to cough into his pillow.

“I think you have a fever bud.” Tony argued.

“It’s just a cold. I’ll sleep it off.”

“I didn’t know you could get sick.”

Peter hummed. “Me neither. Guess I can.”

Tony’s lips pursed in concern and Peter closed his eyes.

“Get some rest.” Tony ordered.

“Trying.” Peter mumbled. “You keep…yapping.”

That earned him a chuckle and ruffle of his hair.

“All right you win. You must not be feeling too bad if you can still sass me. I’ll let you sleep, but I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”

Peter sighed. “Ok.”

“Let FRIDAY know if you need me for anything and she can get me.”

Peter’s lip twitched. “I know Tony.”

Calling the man by his first name earned him another hair ruffle. “Good night Pete. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mmhmm. Night.” He whispered back.

The chirping of the birds pulled him back into the waking world. Somewhere he definitely didn’t want to be. If he thought he’d felt bad last night, it was a hundred times worse now. He was sure there were actual glass shards embedded in his throat and a hammer inside his skull trying to escape. What was worse, his whole body ached in a way he hadn’t felt since before the bite. And he was cold even though the blankets covered him.

He tried to drift back to sleep to escape it, but the discomfort wouldn’t let him. He groaned and rolled onto his back, a cough escaping him and tearing up his throat even worse.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead. It felt heavenly. His eyes flickered open. Tony stood above him, worry plastered on his face.

“Hey kid. You were coughing all night.” Tony said, taking his hand away now that he was awake.

“Sorry.”

Tony shook his head in exasperation. “For what? Being sick?”

“For keeping you up.”

“You didn’t. I was up anyway. Pepper’s turned into a bed hog in the six months I was gone. She kept kicking me.”

Peter snorted a laugh which turned out to be mistake because it turned into a coughing fit.

“You sound rough kid.”

“I’ll admit I’ve been better.” He gave Tony a wry half smile.

“How about we have a lazy day today, just you and me?” Tony asked as he sat down on the bed.

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Where are Morgan and Pepper?”

“Pepper went into the city to start to try to figure out how to handle the release of the news of my miraculous resurrection. And Morgan’s at preschool. She missed me but apparently she didn’t want to miss show and tell day more.”

Peter grinned. “She loves show and tell day.”

“Clearly.” He gave him chagrined look before reaching over to pick something up from the nightstand.

Tony had already run the object over his forehead and down his temple before Peter realized it was a temporal thermometer.

“When’d that get there?” Peter asked as Tony glanced at the number on the readout.

“What? You think I heard you coughing all night and just ignored you? What kind of d- dumb mentor do you take me for?”

Peter frowned at the uncharacteristic stumble over the word dumb.

Tony gave his head a little shake as if clearing it before he continued, “I’ve been in and out all night checking on you.”

“Really? I-I don’t remember that.”

“Because you were asleep.”

“Usually I don’t sleep that deep.”

“Trust me kid. You do. Plus, you’re sick, which probably isn’t helping.” Tony put the thermometer back down on the nightstand.

Peter hummed in agreement, before asking curiously, “How high is it?”

“Your fever?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s been hovering around a tropical 101 degrees. Not brain meltingly high enough for me to wake you from your beauty sleep earlier,” Tony rubbed his hands together, “but now that you’re awake you can finally take some superpowered Tylenol. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” He pulled the blankets tighter as he shivered.

“Hopefully it’ll make you feel better.”

“At this point I don’t think it could make me feel worse.” Peter tried to joke.

Tony snorted a laugh. “That’s the spirit.”

He patted his shoulder and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time Tony came back Peter was already dozing off again but the clunk of something getting set down made him open his eyes.

Tony had placed a tray full of stuff on his nightstand. Definitely way more stuff than Peter thought was warranted.

Tony untwisted the cap of Peter’s pill bottle and dropped a couple in his palm.

“Here.” Tony handed him the pills, which he shoved in his mouth gratefully, along with a glass of water. He needed it to help ease the way of the pills. They were huge. One of the drawbacks of his super metabolism was that he needed a lot more medication than usual humans.

“Thanks.” He croaked, handing the water back once he’d downed the pills. It felt like they’d scraped his throat raw on the way down.

Tony took the glass and set it down on his nightstand within easy reach. Peter expected him to go. Even though Pepper and Morgan weren’t home, he still probably had a lot of stuff to deal with now that he was back from the dead and all, so Peter was surprised when the man didn’t leave. Instead, he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down on top of the covers, settling with his back against the headboard and his legs straight out, crossed at the ankles.

Peter rolled onto his side to face him as Tony rested a Stark pad Peter hadn’t noticed before on his lap, so the screen was visible to him and Peter.

“What do you want to watch while we wait for those wonder pills to kick in?” Tony asked as if this behavior was completely normal. Sure, they’d been close before but never quite to this degree. He was pretty sure he remembered sneezing in front of Tony a few months before Titan and the man had threatened to quarantine him because he didn’t do germs. Peter had tried to explain it was only from a little dust and he wasn’t sick but his mentor had kept a good distance and side eyed him suspiciously for the rest of the day. And now here Peter was clearly sick as a dog and he was choosing to sit mere feet away from him. It was nice. But weird.

Peter figured he could question it or he could give in and enjoy it. He selfishly chose to do the latter.

“I don’t care.” He didn’t. He was just happy to be there with Tony. “Um how about something I might’ve missed out on the last five years I was gone?”

Tony’s face pinched at the reminder of his temporary death, and Peter felt a stab of regret for bringing it up so flippantly now that he knew how the other man felt.

A few long seconds passed and Peter debated whether or not he should apologize, but then Tony’s eyes crinkled as he flashed him a genuine smile. “I’ve got just the thing.”

He tapped at the screen.

“You missed a few Star Wars movies.” Tony brought one up on the screen, but before he pushed play, he hesitated.

“Or wait…who am I kidding? You’ve been back for six months, there’s no way you haven’t already watched these.” He went to tap out of the movie but stopped when Peter interrupted him.

“Actually um I haven’t—” He had to pause to cough. “I haven’t seen any of them yet.”

“You haven’t?” Tony looked at him like he was some kind of alien. “Mr. Star Wars trivia buff himself? How is that even possible?”

Peter shrugged. The truth was Ned had tried to get him to watch them with him, but Peter had never been in the mood. He’d been waiting to feel better so he’d actually get to enjoy it. He hadn’t wanted memories of seeing them for the first time to be riddled with grief because he knew every time he watched them there after it would be all he’d be able to remember. Memory was fickle that way.

He was hoping Tony would let it go, but when he glanced up at the man, he could see he was clearly waiting for an answer.

“Um I don’t know.” He mumbled, looking down at the movie ready to play on the screen. “It just never felt right.”

“But you want to watch it now?” Tony asked. “Because we don’t have to. We could watch something else.”

“No. I-I want to watch it.” Peter chewed at his lip before looking back up at Tony. “I want to watch it with you.”

Because it felt right now. The memory of watching it for the first time would be coupled with this moment. With Tony. Tony being back and alive. Tony taking care of him. Even though he felt physically terrible, he was happier than he’d been in awhile. He felt safe in a way he hadn’t ever since Tony had died. He hadn’t even realized it until now that he had it back.

Tony’s expression softened and he gave him a small smile. “Your wish is my command.”

Tony pressed play and Peter turned back to the screen, the familiar song and opening credits streaming across the screen.

He almost made it halfway through before he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Something ghosted over his forehead and let out a quiet beep, dragging him back to awareness. The hand shaking his shoulder made him open his eyes.

“Hey kid. Wake up for me.” Tony whispered.

“Hm?” He was too tired and his throat hurt too much to form words.

“You need to drink something or you’re going to get dehydrated.” Tony held a bottle of uncapped blue Gatorade out near his nose as if he was trying to entice him with it.

Peter groaned.

“Yeah I know. But as soon as you drink this and take some more super pills you can go back to sleep.”

Peter managed to push himself up to a sitting position, entire body aching in protest at the movement. He took the offered Gatorade along with the pills and drank them down with a few large gulps. But when he tried to hand the bottle back, Tony wouldn’t take it.

“Try to finish it.” The man said.

Peter gave him a put upon look but sighed and kept sipping at it.

“What time is it?” He asked. Even though his throat hurt, he preferred trying to talk than sitting in silence as Tony watched him drink. Plus, the pile of stuff on his nightstand seemed to have multiplied two fold since he’d last been awake, obscuring his clock.

Tony glanced at his watch. “Almost two. Actually, we should try to get some food in you too while you’re awake.”

Peter made a face. “I’m not hungry.”

“Tough. You’re eating something.”

Peter gave him his most pitiful puppy eyes but Tony just scoffed.

“Yeah that’s not going to work on me. I’ve had five years of practice saying no to Morgan, and I hate to tell you kid, but she does that look way better than you.”

“Does not.” Was the most mature response he could muster.

Tony smirked and nodded toward the half empty bottle in his hands as he stood. “Finish that. I’m going to go warm up some soup for you.”

Peter glared at the empty doorway the man had disappeared through as he downed the Gatorade. He set the empty bottle down on the little space left on the nightstand and tried to decide if he felt strong enough to get up. He needed to use the bathroom. And it’d be great if he could brush his teeth or even take a quick shower. But he wasn’t sure if he could handle standing that long with how bad he felt.

Still, he’d never know unless he tried. He tossed the covers back and hauled himself to his feet, pausing for a few seconds to acclimate as his legs shook unsteadily under him. He shivered. Being out from under the warm covers sucked. He took a step and didn’t fall on his face, so he took another, and eventually managed to make it to the bathroom. After he brushed his teeth he didn’t feel like he was about to collapse, so he decided to risk taking a quick shower.

He grabbed some clothes out of his dresser. Tony still wasn’t back, and could hear some loud noises and swearing coming from downstairs, so it seemed like he still had some time before the man came back up. Peter walked back into his bathroom and turned the shower on. He stepped under the spray and immediately started shivering. Shit. He tried turning the temperature up to borderline scalding, but it didn’t seem to help much. He lathered up and rinsed off as quickly as he could, probably one of the fastest showers he’d taken in years.

He turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel as violent tremors wracked him. He dried off and hurried to get dressed. He managed to slip into his boxers but as he finished pulling his sweat pants on, his head spun. Oh shit. He really needed to sit down. Just for a second. Or he was going to pass out. He closed the toilet seat lid and sat, hanging his head between his knees to try to banish the lightheadedness.

“Kid?” Tony knocked on the door. “I have your soup ready.”

Even though the last thing he wanted to do was eat, maybe it would warm him up. He shook, freezing, shirtless with drops of water dripping from his hair down onto his chest and back. He shouldn’t have hung up the towel so soon.

“Pete? You all right in there?” Tony knocked again.

Peter knew he should answer but he was too focused on trying not to pass out. Another few seconds passed and Peter tried to take some deep breaths to banish the dark spots dancing across his vision.

“If you don’t answer me in the next five seconds, I’m coming in. Last warning.” Tony said.

But Peter didn’t have the air to waste to reassure him. If he interrupted his breathing to answer, he might hit the floor.

“That’s it. I’m coming in. I hope you’re decent.” Tony said as the bathroom door opened even though Peter was pretty sure it’d been less than five seconds.

“Shit.” Tony swore as he rushed to his side. He knelt in front of him and gripped his shoulders. “What’s going on kid?”

He figured it was safe to try to talk now that Tony had a good hold on him. If he passed out now, he’d topple into the man instead of the hard tile floor.

“Dunno.” He scrunched his eyes closed. “I just got really dizzy.”

“Ok. Well it’s good you sat down then. That was good. Good thinking.” Tony sounded anxious. He rambled when he was anxious.

“Is this helping?” Tony asked, and Peter knew he meant the position he was in.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I still-still feel like I’m going to pass out.” He said almost breathlessly.

“Ok well I got you.” Tony squeezed his shoulders reassuringly. “I got you, just in case. So let’s just sit here for a minute. See if it gets any better.”

Violent tremors wracked his body and his teeth chattered.

Tony let go of one of his shoulders, but he kept a vice like grip on the other, as he twisted around. Peter couldn’t see what he was doing but he figured it out a second later when the fluffy towel settled over his head and Tony started rubbing his hair dry.

“A wet head probably isn’t helping.” Tony grumbled. “It’s got to be the worst thing for you right now.”

At this point, Peter really had to agree. As nice as it felt to be clean, it really didn’t seem worth it now. The water had leeched any warmth from him.

“Feeling any better?” Tony asked once he’d finished drying him off as well as he could.

“Maybe.” Not really.

“Think we can try to get your sweatshirt on?”

“Yeah.” Peter agreed weakly. He didn’t know if he could do it, but he really wanted the warmth of the Stark Industries sweatshirt.

“All right. Here we go.” Tony levered him by the shoulders to sit up and they managed to get the hoodie over his head and through his arms before the black dots returned.

Peter tried to will them away, but it didn’t work. They grew to encompass his entire vision as loud static and ringing filled his ears and he went boneless and tipped forward. But he hadn’t completely lost consciousness yet because he distantly felt himself fall against Tony.

“Shit. Ok. I got you. I got you.” He heard the man say as he caught him.

And then everything went black.

He came to with a miserable groan.

“Hey kid, you back with me?” He heard Tony’s voice ask.

He pried his eyes open. He was lying on the hard bathroom floor with his feet propped up on the tub ledge and Tony leaning over him.

He frowned.

“Wha?” He didn’t even know what question he was trying to voice.

“You’re back.” Tony sounded relieved as he ran a comforting hand over his hair. “You’re all right.”

“What…what happened?” He licked his lips as he tried to remember but his brain hadn’t quite caught up yet. He’d been…showering? Oh god. Had he biffed it in the shower? Was he naked? He glanced down. No. Thank god. That would’ve been mortifying.

“You took an impromptu nap.” Tony answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

It all came rushing back.

“Oh god.” He covered his face with his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Tony brushed off the apology. “You’re fine. You feeling better?”

“I think so?” It was hard to judge being flat on the ground.

“Want to try sitting up?”

He thought about it for a second before he nodded.

“Let’s take it nice and slow.” Tony said as he put an arm under his shoulders and started helping him sit up at a practically glacial pace.

But it seemed to work. He didn’t feel dizzy and the black dots didn’t make a reappearance. He tugged his feet off the tub ledge. Maybe he was ok.

Of course thinking that was his downfall.

Something worse happened. The previous dizziness had been replaced by mouth watering nausea.

Tony must’ve seen something on his face because he gripped him tighter and asked, “What? What’s wrong? Do you need lie down again?”

Peter swallowed hard. No no no. He would not do this. He would not puke in front of Tony Stark. He refused. He was going to make his body listen for once.

It didn’t listen.

He let out a distressed noise and threw himself at the toilet, opening the lid just in time. He gagged. Nothing came up at first.

“Oh kid.” Tony said sadly and rested a hand between his shoulder blades.

Peter really wished this wasn’t happening. He gagged again and this time an impressive amount of blue Gatorade erupted from him into the toilet.

“You’re all right.” Tony said softly as he rubbed his back.

He managed to take a few breaths before he gagged again and threw up even more Gatorade into the toilet bowl. Oh god. So gross.

“M’sorry.” He mumbled before he was puking again.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Tony said. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”

He groaned and then gagged again.

“Shouldn't've drank your stupid blue Gatorade.” He complained and Tony let out a short, surprised laugh.

“Sorry kid. We probably should’ve gone a little slower with the fluids. I didn’t know your stomach was bothering you.”

“It wasn’t until now.” He bemoaned. “I blame the synthetic coloring.”

Tony snorted again.

The mood immediately sobered when he threw up again. And again. Until finally nothing came up and the heaves ceased. He spit into the toilet, trying to rid the foul taste from his mouth, before reaching out to flush it.

“You done?” Tony asked, still a comforting presence behind him. Part of him was glad the man was there and had stayed and another part of him was thoroughly embarrassed.

“Think so.” He mumbled and sat back. He watched through hooded eyes as Tony stood and wet a wash cloth in the sink. The man knelt down in front of him, knees cracking, and wiped at his face with it.

“I’m ok.” He half protested the babying.

“Clearly.” Tony said as he tossed the wash cloth into the sink.

Peter didn’t argue for once.

“Let’s get you back in bed.” Tony said as he placed Peter’s arm over his shoulders and helped him stand. The two of them somehow managed to stumble back to his bed without him wiping out. Peter was impressed because his legs didn’t seem to be working. They were like two al dente noodles trying to support him.

Tony grunted as he maneuvered him into bed. Peter wasted no time crawling under the warm covers. The rigors hadn’t abated.

“I got to say kid, when you get sick, you go all out.” Tony said.

He groaned pitifully in response and tried to bury his face in his pillow. He just wanted to sleep again.

“Wait.” Tony pulled at his shoulder. “Don’t sleep yet. You need to try to eat something first.”

He jerked his head from the pillow and gave Tony a look of utter disbelief. “I just puked my guts out and you want me to try to eat something? Does Pepper ever actually let you take care of Morgan when she’s sick?”

“Cute.” Tony said as he gripped the front of Peter’s sweatshirt and pulled his overly pliant body up so he was half sitting against the headboard.

“I can’t eat right now.” Peter protested when it seemed Tony was serious about him eating the soup. The man placed a tray with toast, chicken noodle soup and a glass of water over his lap.

“Just try.” Tony said as he sat down on the edge of the bed facing him.

“But—”

“I wouldn’t make you if I couldn’t already see the outline of every single one of your ribs.” Tony said with a heavy look. Peter looked away. Right. Tony had seen him shirtless in the bathroom. Peter honestly didn’t know what he looked like. He’d been avoiding mirrors lately.

Tony sighed and said more gently, “You’ve lost too much weight kiddo. You can’t afford to lose any more.”

Peter stared despondently at the tray.

“Look. You don’t have to eat it all, but you have to try to eat some of it.” Tony bargained. Peter could tell he wasn’t going to win this one.

He sighed heavily but picked up the spoon and ladled some soup into his mouth. It actually wasn’t too bad.

“Did you make this?” He asked in surprise. He ate another spoonful. Now that he was eating, he realized he was pretty hungry. Stupid metabolism.

“Does it taste like I did?”

“It’s edible so I’d have to say no.” He joked. Tony was a notoriously bad cook.

“Ha ha.” Tony gave him a wry look. “Technically it’s from a can but I heated it up.”

“You didn’t burn it. I’m impressed.” Peter smirked and ate some more. One time Tony had tried to make spaghetti for him and he’d ended up burning the pasta because he'd forgotten to add water.

Tony rolled his eyes but waited patiently as Peter nearly finished the soup along with half a piece of toast.

“I’m done.” He said as he dropped the remaining part of the uneaten toast with a groan. He didn’t feel nauseous, but he worried he’d overdone it and it’d make a reappearance later. At least it was all bland food. One time he’d gotten sick after eating super spicy Indian food for dinner, and that stuff had burned coming back up.

“Ok. Good job.” Tony took the tray off his lap and placed it on the ground.

Peter sank back down until he was lying flat. He rolled onto his side and shut his eyes as Tony pulled the covers up to his chin, effectively tucking him in.

“Thanks.” He mumbled.

“Get some more sleep. You’ve got nowhere you need to be.” Tony said. “Pepper talked to May this morning and explained everything. She had to fly to Denver tonight anyway, so you’re staying with us for the rest of the week.”

“Ok.” He mumbled back. He felt kind of bad for not thinking of May and calling her earlier, but to be fair, he’d had a lot on his plate. He hoped she knew it wasn’t because he was still holding a grudge about the whole her and Happy thing.

Tony palmed his forehead again and brushed his hair back. He liked this new, more physically affectionate, Tony. He wondered briefly if the man was going to stay or leave this time, but he fell asleep before he could find out.

The rest of the day passed in a fever haze. Whenever he woke Tony was always there beside him or nearby. They watched movies together. Until he nodded off again. He slept, coughed, shivered, took more pills, and threw up a couple more times, but he managed to keep some dinner down and enough water so Tony didn’t threaten to have an IV put in him.

The night was worse. The fever took a solid hold and wouldn’t let go. He went from freezing cold to burning hot, kicking off the covers like they were trying to smother him. Then back to unbearably cold again, shivering and whimpering.

The fever, combined with the inherently surreal quality of night, played tricks on his mind. The nightmares plagued him and at times he wasn’t quite sure what was dream and what was reality. Lucidity ebbed and flowed.

The only thing he knew for certain was he wasn’t alone. There was always someone there whispering words of comfort. Telling him he was all right. That he was only dreaming. Sometimes he was with it enough to recognize that someone was Tony.

Overall it was a miserable night.

When the morning light finally shone through the blinds directly onto his closed eyelids, he scrunched them up tight before opening them and blinking, trying to adjust to the brightness. Something wet and cold rested on his forehead. He frowned and reached up to touch it, recognizing it as a damp washcloth the moment he did. He pulled it off as he sat up, trying to shake off the mental fog and wake up.

The sound of soft snoring caught his attention. Peter glanced to the other side of his bed and saw Tony fast asleep on top of the covers, curled in a ball, clutching at a pillow. He looked exhausted. Peter decided not to wake him.

He tentatively crawled out of bed and made it to the bathroom. He didn’t want to jinx it, but he thought he felt a little better than the day before. He chanced showering and managed it without any problem.

When he walked back out, Tony was up and awake, putting clean sheets on the bed.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Peter asked.

“No.” Tony answered but didn’t elaborate as to what had woken him. “How are you doing?”

“Better I think.” He shrugged. He definitely wasn’t back to 100 percent but he could stand without passing out. And he wasn’t nauseous. The idea of food didn’t repulse him. His stomach ached more out of hunger.

“Kind of hungry actually.” He voiced the last thought out loud.

Tony gave him a small but pleased smile. “That’s good to hear. Strange thought you’d start feeling better today.”

“Dr. Strange? When did you talk to him?”

Tony finished making the bed but held back the covers on Peter’s side and patted the mattress. Peter crawled in but propped himself up against the headboard instead of lying down.

“He was here last night.” Tony answered as he pulled the covers up and palmed his forehead, seemingly satisfied with the temperature he found.

“He was?” Peter frowned. “When? Was I awake? I don’t remember.”

“I’m not surprised. You were pretty out of it.” Tony said. “Your fever spiked and we couldn’t get it down, so I called him. He came and did his hand wavy doctor magic thing. Managed to get your fever to break and said you had the flu, but with your enhancements, you should be feeling better in the next day or two, and then he went back home.”

“Oh.” Tony must’ve been really worried to call Strange for help in the middle of the night.

Peter shot him a chagrined look. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. Again.” Tony ruffled his hair. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Sit tight while I grab you some food.”

“Ok.”

Tony was at the doorway when Peter stopped him. He wanted to ask a question that’d been bothering him.

“Um Tony?”

“Yeah kid?” The man paused and turned around, a pleased smile on his face and a slight gleam in his eyes. It was the look he got whenever Peter called him by his first name now instead of Mr. Stark.

Peter toyed with his sleeves nervously. “Did um, did Dr. Strange ever say anything to you about what happened in the alternate reality that I created when I took you?”

“I asked him about it. He said they won.” Tony answered. “So don’t worry, ok? I’m right where I need to be.”

“Ok.” Peter whispered.

“You all right?” Tony asked, still hovering in the doorway, looking torn between leaving to get him food and coming back to his side.

He nodded and managed a small smile.

“I’ll be right back.” Tony said and disappeared.

Peter stared out the empty doorway. He couldn’t help but think about the other Peter. He wondered if he’d get the idea to do the same thing. To go back in time and bring Tony forward, from the time before Peter had taken him. But that wouldn’t affect his Tony. It’d just create another alternate reality. And then the Peter in that new reality could do the same thing. And on and on and on.

So even though Tony had died, would that ever be the final outcome in any reality that had a Peter in it that refused to accept it? Thinking about it, trying to grasp the concept, boggled his mind. It didn’t matter. Regardless of what did or didn’t happen in other realities, he had his Tony in this reality. And he hadn’t doomed the other reality. Strange had told Tony they’d won. So maybe it was ok for Peter to let himself enjoy it.

Chapter Text

“No Daddy. I don’t wanna go to bed. I’m not tired.” Morgan whined.

Peter frowned at the noise and cracked his eyes open to slits to take in the scene from his position on the couch. Morgan stood in front of Tony on the other couch, arms crossed, and an obstinate look on her face. Peter’s lips twitched into an amused smile.

“Shh honey. You need to be quiet. Petey’s sleeping.” Tony said just above a whisper. It wasn’t the first time he’d used the nickname. Peter guessed he’d picked it up from Morgan and it was what he called him now whenever he talked to her.

Morgan turned to look at him and saw his open eyes. “No he’s not.”

“Yes he— Oh.” Tony stopped when he noticed Peter actually was awake. The man gave him a smile. “Hey kid. Sorry, did the munchkin wake you up?”

Peter waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all right. Pretty sure I was already waking up.”

“Now look what you did.” Tony chastised Morgan. “You woke up your sick brother.”

Peter's stomach swooped. That name, Tony referring to him as Morgan’s brother, implying that he thought of him as a son, Peter still hadn’t gotten used to that one. He didn’t know if he ever would.

Instead of looking sorry, Morgan grinned and skipped over, catapulting herself at him.

He caught her with a surprised, “Oof,” and lifted her into the air above him. She spread her arms like an airplane a giggled. It was a game they’d played many times before and she loved it.

“Morgan.” Tony warned.

“We’re having fun daddy.” She shot him an annoyed look, one that was so Pepper, Peter couldn’t help the snort that escaped.

Tony raised an eyebrow and stood. “Yeah I can see that, but it’s bedtime.”

Peter grinned at the dad voice coming from Tony. Watching him interact with Morgan was just about his favorite thing now.

“No.” Morgan protested as Tony grabbed her out of Peter’s arms and balanced her on his hip.

As Tony started carrying her away toward her bedroom, she stretched her arms out over her dad’s shoulder toward Peter. “Nooo. Petey! Save me!”

“Morgan!” Peter called back, playing along and reaching his own arm out over the back of the couch toward her.

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t let the bad man take me!”

“Hey!” Tony protested.

Morgan giggled.

“What’s going on out here?” Pepper walked into the room, eyebrows raised.

“Daddy’s being mean.” Morgan accused.

“No. Daddy’s not being mean.” Tony denied, shaking his head. “He’s just trying to get your cute little butt in bed. Because it’s bedtime.”

Morgan shook her head vehemently and held her arms out toward Pepper, who took her seamlessly.

Peter observed the scene with a wide smile plastered across his face.

“That does sound mean.” Pepper agreed, nodding sagely, before she lightly bopped Morgan’s nose with her finger and asked, “How about you tell me all about it?”

“Ok.” Morgan agreed quietly with a smile.

“Mommy’s kind of tired though, so how about we go lay down together and then you can tell me?” Pepper offered.

“Ok.” Morgan rested her head on Pepper’s shoulder, completely oblivious to the blatant manipulation.

Pepper walked away, and Tony sat down with a sigh on the end of the couch by Peter's feet. When he tried to move his feet to make room, Tony grabbed them and plopped them across his lap.

“I can’t tell who’s corrupting who.” Tony said, pointing at him and then toward the hallway where Morgan had just disappeared and then back at him again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…bad man.” Peter deadpanned.

Tony glared at him.

Peter laughed. “Who are you kidding? You love it.”

Instead of denying it like Peter expected him to, Tony’s face softened, and he admitted with a smile, “Yeah. I do.”

“Your aunt wants to talk to you.” Tony said, holding the phone out to him as he strode into the room.

Peter reached for it from where he lay on the couch. He felt completely fine, but Tony had still relegated him to the couch for another day so he wouldn’t overwork himself and set back his recovery.

Tony started handing the phone over and then tugged it back at the last moment. “Any reason why you’ve been ghosting May?”

“I’m not ghosting May.” He said, incredulous, although maybe he actually had been a little bit, accidentally. He realized hadn’t talked to her since last Friday, and it was already Thursday. Whoops. He made a grab for the phone, but it was still too far out of reach.

Tony quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Better tell her that.”

“I will.” Peter said and Tony finally handed the phone over.

“Hey May.” He said. “I’m not ghosting you.”

“Then why have I had to get all my news about you from everybody but you lately?” May asked. She said it jokingly, but he could hear the underlying hurt.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“So you’re not still mad about me and Happy?”

“No. I’m not mad about that.”

“Are you sure? Because honey, I want you to be honest with me. I can take it.”

He sighed and tried to keep his voice low so it’d be harder for Tony to hear since the man had settled on the opposite sofa. “I’m fine with you and Happy, May.”

Tony smirked at him. Clearly he hadn’t been quiet enough. Peter rolled his eyes in return.

“Ok. Well then what’s the deal?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing. I’ve just been a little distracted lately, obviously.” He said, glancing at the object of his distraction as he said it. It earned him another smirk.

“So you weren’t avoiding me because you knew how much trouble you were going to be in for what you did?”

Shit. He’d definitely been set up.

“Um, no?”

“Well you’re grounded for the next month.”

“What? May come on that’s not fair.”

“You could’ve died, Peter!” Peter winced as she finally lost her temper.

“I was careful.” He reasoned.

“Not careful enough.” May accused.

“Says who?”

“Everyone I’ve talked to.”

“Everyone who?”

“Tony. Pepper. Happy.” May rattled off.

“They’re exaggerating.” He denied, refusing to look up at Tony, knowing he wouldn’t like the look he’d be getting from him.

“I don’t think so. I think you went off and did something incredibly dangerous all on your own—”

“I wasn’t on my own. I had Ned.” He interrupted.

“Ned doesn’t count.” May huffed.

“Don’t tell him that.” He tried to joke.

“Peter!”

“What?”

“You could’ve died.” May said again, incredibly serious.

“But I didn’t.”

“You still took a huge risk. God, when I think about what could’ve happened—”

“It was worth it.” He said, and this time he did look up to meet Tony’s eyes. He was watching him, like he knew he would be, with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“It was reckless.” May sighed.

“It wasn’t reckless.” He denied.

“You know what, we’ll talk about it more when I get home on Sunday. I don’t have the time to argue with you right now. It’s like talking to a wall, and I have another meeting I need to get to.”

Peter’s forehead scrunched. Talking to him wasn’t like talking to a wall.

“I love you, Peter. Be good. And call me.” May said.

“I love you too.” He mumbled. “Bye.”

She hung up.

“It was reckless kid.” Tony said as soon as Peter dropped the phone from his ear.

“No it wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. I had everything planned out. I knew what I was doing.” He tried to defend his actions even though he knew Tony would see right through it.

“It was reckless.” Tony repeated, as if it was fact.

He chewed his lip and looked down.

Tony stood and came over to perch on the couch cushion next to him.

“It was reckless. Tell me you know that.” Tony said, this time softer.

“I know. I guess.” He admitted with a sigh. “But I didn’t care.”

“What you did was incredibly dangerous. She could’ve lost you. That’s why she’s upset. It’s why I’m upset too. In no scenario would I ever want you to die trying to save me, you understand?”

“I know and I’m sorry, but I cared more about getting you back than I cared about…anything else.”

“Including dying?” Tony asked. That was definitely a loaded question.

He shrugged instead of answering.

Tony sighed heavily and stared at him.

“I’m fine and I got you back.” He mumbled in his defense. “I don’t see why everyone’s still freaking out about it.”

“Because we’re old enough and wise enough to realize what could’ve happened and it scares us. And the ends don’t justify the means. You’re a smart kid. You know that.” Tony explained.

“You did the same thing. You said so yourself.”

“No I didn’t.” Tony shook his head. “I took a calculated risk that had the chance of a huge pay off, and I didn’t do it alone.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He said. “I’m not sorry I saved you.”

“I want you to promise me you won’t do it again.”

Peter smirked and held up a hand. “I promise I will never again secretly and behind everyone’s back, build a time travel nanotech suit and use it to go back in time to save you from a huge crazy purple alien and your own self sacrificing nature.”

“That’s not what I meant smart ass.” Tony glared. “Promise you won’t do something reckless like that again.”

“Um have you met me?”

“Peter.”

“What? Do you want me to lie? Fine. I promise I’ll never do anything reckless ever again.”

Tony reached out to cup his chin. “Just promise me you’ll try to be more careful. And you’ll ask for help when you need it.”

He felt like that was still slightly overly optimistic but he supposed he could try. “Ok. I promise.”

“Good. Thank you.” Tony said with a small sigh of relief as he released his chin and patted his leg. “Now come on. I made lunch.”

“You cooked? When?” Peter frowned as Tony stood and he followed.

“Ok so I put a pizza in the oven. It still counts.”

“I don’t think Pepper would say that counts.”

“What Pepper doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Is that like the theme of your entire life?”

“At this point, pretty much.”

“Petey.” He could tell Morgan was trying to whisper, but it still came out at the volume of a yell.

He groaned and buried his face in his pillow. He loved her. He really did, but he didn’t get what she had against sleep. Why did she always have to get up at the ass crack of dawn?

“Petey.” She whined, shaking his entire back with both her arms. “Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.”

He turned his head and cracked his eyes open. His room was dark but he could see Morgan standing in her pajamas right next to his bed.

“Is the sun even up yet?” He rasped.

“Almost.” Morgan nodded.

So that was a no.

“Where are your mom and dad?”

“Still sleeping.”

“You didn’t try to wake them up?”

“Nuh uh. I want to play with you.”

He groaned and closed his eyes. “It’s too early. Go back to sleep. I’ll play with you when it’s not dark outside.”

“But it snowed last night!” She said excitedly. “A lot!”

“So?” He squinted at her.

“I want to play in the snow with you.”

“It’s too early.”

“No it’s not. It’s never too early to play in the snow.” Morgan said, sounding as offended as if he’d told her the tooth fairy wasn’t real.

“It is if you can’t see.” He reasoned.

“We have lights outside, duh.” She rolled her eyes and it was such a Tony look that Peter let out a laugh.

“Is that so?” He joked and sat up, realizing he was actually awake now and wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again even if Morgan left him alone.

“Yeah. Come on.” She pulled on his hand.

“Ok I’m coming.” He sighed and let her drag him out of bed. “What do you want to play? Snowballs? Sledding?”

“No.” She shook her head and considered it for a moment before she looked up at him and asked, “Do you want to build a snowman?”

He blinked. Great. Now that stupid Frozen song was going to be stuck in his head. He found himself oddly relating to Elsa in the scene where her little sister kept harassing her when all she wanted was to be left alone. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. When had his life become a Disney movie?

He snorted. “You know what? Sure. Why not?”

Morgan hopped in celebration and he let her lead him downstairs so they could put on their winter clothes and go play outside.

They were in the middle of building snowman number three when Tony walked outside, cup of coffee in hand and a delighted smile on his face. “Well well well, what are you two up to?”

“We’re building snowmans Daddy.” Morgan explained as she handed Peter the stick that would make up one of the current snowman’s arms.

“Isn’t it a little early to be building snowmen?” Tony asked with amusement.

“You would think.” Peter deadpanned. “But apparently it is not.”

“It’s never too early for snowmans.” Morgan said matter of factly.

“How long have you two been out here?” Tony asked as he sat down on the deck steps, watching them while he sipped on his coffee.

Morgan shrugged.

“Since a little before six.” Peter answered and started packing more snow around the balls of snow so the snowman wouldn’t topple over. Morgan started copying him.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Morgan, did you wake your brother up?”

She shrugged again.

“Morgan.” Tony said more sternly.

“Maybe.” She admitted.

“Morgan we’ve talked about this. If you wake up early you stay in your room until it’s time to get up.”

“But I was bored.” She said, still patting on the snow.

“That doesn’t mean we wake people up. You have toys in your room you can play with if you’re bored.”

“But I wanted to play with Petey.” She complained.

“I know but next time you have to wait until it’s light outside to play with Petey, ok? That’s the rule.”

“Ok.” Morgan agreed reluctantly.

Peter smirked. Yeah right. He’d believe that when he saw it.

But watching Tony being so dad-like, chastising his daughter, did something funny in his chest. It was a good look on him. Something Peter didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to witness, and now after seeing examples of it over the past week, it was better than he’d imagined. It came so naturally to Tony. He thought it’d be more forced or awkward or something, but it wasn’t. Tony wasn’t just acting like a dad, like Peter’s mind had envisioned it, he was a dad. He’d committed whole heartedly to the role.

Peter finished rolling the snowball for the snowman’s head and lifted it up to stack it onto the other two piles of snow that made up the body.

“Can I do the face Petey?” Morgan asked.

“Of course squirt.”

She ran to their pile of stuff by the deck steps and grabbed a carrot, two pieces of charcoal, and the black buttons they’d been using to make the mouths. When she ran back to him, he lifted her up and held her so she was tall enough to place everything on the snowman’s face. As Morgan organized the buttons into a smile, Peter glanced back over at Tony, who was being uncharacteristically quiet.

The man still sat on the steps watching them, and he was smiling but his eyes looked a little misty.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Nothing.” Tony smiled wider and shook his head slightly. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” He wanted to know what had put that look on Tony’s face.

Tony cocked his head slightly as he kept watching them while Morgan decorated the snowman’s face. When enough time had passed that Peter figured he wasn’t going to get a response, Tony answered softly, “I just never thought I’d get to have this. The two of you. Together. It’s…really great.”

Peter smiled and ducked his head away bashfully, pretending to be watching Morgan. After a few seconds he looked back over at Tony and smiled as he glanced between him and Morgan.

“Yeah I know what you mean.” He said. “It is pretty great.”

“Nice threads kid.” Tony said as plopped down on the couch next to him.

Peter put his phone down from where he’d been texting Ned and glanced down at himself. Oh right. He’d been a little cold so he’d pulled on his MIT sweatshirt.

“Oh. Um thanks. It’s yours actually.”

“I know.” Tony smiled in amusement.

“Pepper gave it to me.” He explained, not wanting Tony to think he’d just taken it. “I mean May gave it to me, but um Pepper gave it to May. To give to me. When you were gone. But you’re back now so you can have it back if you—”

“Kid stop.” Tony interrupted and grabbed his hand from where it gripped the sweatshirt, preparing to take it off so he could give it back. “It’s fine. You keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

Tony smiled and patted his hand. “Yeah. I want you to have it.”

“Ok.” Peter gave him a small smile back. “Um thanks.”

“You’re going to need it since Pepper tells me you’re heading off to MIT this fall.” Tony pointed to the emblem on the sweatshirt. “And here I thought I was going to have to bribe some people to get them to uphold your earlier acceptance offer.”

Peter shook his head in disapproval. He knew Tony wasn’t kidding. The man smirked and as he stared at him, he got that gleam in his eyes that was becoming oddly familiar.

“It looks good on you.” Tony said.

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, and it didn’t seem like Tony wanted a response, so he stayed quiet.

The next second Tony ruffled his hair and pulled him closer in a one armed hug. “I’m so damn proud of you kid.”

Peter leaned into the hug and set his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Thanks Tony.”

“I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but you’re going to have such a great time at MIT.”

Peter frowned. Ever since he’d found out he’d still get to go to MIT in the fall, he hadn’t felt anything about it. No excitement or happiness or worry. Nothing. But now, at the reminder that going meant leaving Tony behind, he felt a tiny inkling of dread. He wasn’t ready to go yet. He was barely ready to leave the lake house and head back to New York tomorrow, let alone ready to move to a whole other city several hours away.

Maybe his feelings would change in time. Maybe it’d get better once Tony had been back for a few months. Maybe by the time August came, the idea of being so far away from Tony in case something happened wouldn’t make him break out in a cold sweat. But he had a bad feeling more time wouldn’t actually make a difference.

“Pete you got to eat more than that.” Tony insisted as he cleared Pepper’s and Morgan’s empty plates.

Peter sighed but made an effort to take a few more bites of the spaghetti in front of him so his plate was nearly empty. He pushed it towards Tony when the man came back, but instead of taking it, Tony grabbed the spaghetti bowl in the middle of the table and plopped another entire serving down on it before pushing it back.

He shook his head. “I’m full.”

“The five year old ate more than you and you have an enhanced metabolism.” Tony argued and sat back down. “And I promised May I’d fatten you up before I returned you. So eat.”

“Yeah Petey eat or you won’t get a juice pop.” Morgan added.

“Whose side are you on?” He asked, but she just smiled.

He caught Tony and Pepper exchanging a weighted look out of the corner of his eye.

“Come on sweetie. Let’s go get you in the bath while your brother finishes eating and then you can have a juice pop with him.” Pepper said, taking Morgan’s hand and leading her away from the table.

“Finish that kid.” Tony insisted, clearly intent on waiting for him.

He sighed but went back to eating and he almost finished the second plate before his stomach felt close to bursting. He dropped the fork down with a groan. “I can’t eat anymore. I’m going to explode.”

Tony’s lips thinned but he didn’t argue. He cleared his plate away and Peter stood, intent on helping him load the dishes in the dishwasher, but once Tony dropped his plate down by the sink he came back to the table and pointed at Peter’s empty chair. “Sit.”

Peter did, with a frown. Tony grabbed his chair and dragged it closer to Peter before sitting down with a resigned sigh.

“What?” Peter asked.

“You should be able to put away three plates without breaking a sweat.”

Peter looked away.

“Hey.” Tony grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact. “When Strange came by to take a look at you when you were sick, do you know what he told me?”

Peter shook his head.

“He told me you’re underweight. And he told me the only reason he thinks you even got sick in the first place is because you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“So?” Peter couldn’t help the petulant tone. Tony had died. What did he expect?

“So I talked to everyone and they all agreed with that.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“May and Pepper and Happy and Rhodey.” Tony listed.

“You’ve been busy.”

“They’re all worried about you kid.”

Peter scoffed and tried to pull away but Tony held him in place.

“They all say the same thing. You didn’t handle my absence well, and you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Not eating. Not sleeping.” Tony said and it sounded like an accusation.

Peter stared him in the eyes but didn’t deny it. He didn’t know how to. It was true.

“You need to start getting more rest. And I want you to see a nutritionist.” Tony declared.

Peter gave him an indignant look. “I know how to eat.”

“Knowing and doing are two different things. You’re seeing her.” Tony said, more like a command. “And no Spiderman until you’re back to a healthy weight. In fact, no exercise of any kind.”

“Tony.”

“I’m not arguing with you.” Tony said and released his chin, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation was over.

Peter huffed in frustration. “It’s not my fault. I was sick.”

“You were underweight before you got sick. And getting sick definitely didn’t help.” Tony said but without any heat. Peter stared down at the table.

“The nutritionist will help. She’s going to meet with you every other day and I want you to do what she says, ok?”

“Ok.” Peter mumbled. He knew it was pointless to argue once Tony made up his mind.

“And once you pack on enough pounds, and you’re getting enough sleep, we’ll talk about Spiderman again.”

Peter grit his teeth but agreed, “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Tony said, and Peter could tell he meant it. The man leaned forward and kissed the top of his head.

“Now go get ready. I promised May I’d have you home by nine and we’re already pushing it.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I thought I had to have a juice pop with Morgan first.”

“You will.” Tony nodded. “And then we’ll go. But if May asks why we’re late we blame it on Morgan, ok?”

“Got it. Blame the baby.” Peter smiled.

“Exactly.” Tony ruffled his hair.

And Peter tried to ignore the fear that suddenly blossomed in his chest. He’d just gotten Tony back. He wasn't ready to leave him. But he knew he had to. He had school tomorrow, and life had to continue on no matter how much he wanted to stay glued to Tony’s side.

“Nicole, the Avenger’s nutritionist is going to stop by your apartment after school tomorrow. I already cleared it with May. She’ll set you up with a meal plan and before long we’ll have you as good as new.”

Peter nodded as he stood. Good as new. He wished he could believe that.

Chapter Text

Peter had thought getting Tony back would mean everything would go back to how it’d been before. That it’d be like Tony had never died in the first place. That everything would be well again.

The reality was different. His brain couldn’t seem to catch up with everything that’d happened. The nightmares didn’t disappear. If anything, they got worse now that he couldn’t see Tony every day and reassure himself that he was actually alive. And on top of that, he now had the Avenger’s nutritionist stuffing him so full of food and shakes that he felt like he was going to throw up most of the time. And he wasn’t even allowed to distract himself with Spiderman. Life sucked.

Peter rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on what his history teacher was saying. Instead of expending the energy to concentrate and filter out the important parts, he scribbled down whatever came out of the man’s mouth and figured he’d revise the notes later. When his brain could focus again. Although who knew when that would be.

“And just like that,” Mr. Roben said, snapping his fingers, “you have a rebellion.”

Peter jumped at the noise and his pen jerked violently over his paper, leaving a harsh black line. His head jolted up and Mr. Roben kept talking, pacing around the room, explaining further. But Peter couldn’t listen. All he could hear was the echoing snap of fingers. The classroom faded out until all he could see in his mind’s eye was Tony, stones in his hand, kneeling on the ground, brave and desperate, snapping his fingers. Snapping. Dying.

He gasped.

“Mr. Parker?”

“Mr. Parker?”

He blinked and came back to reality.

“Something you’d like to share with the class Mr. Parker?” His teacher asked.

Peter looked around and realized he was standing up next his desk. Everyone was staring at him, some confused, others amused. Ned and MJ looked concerned.

“Um. I um. I have to go to the bathroom.” He managed to get out even though he felt like he could barely breathe.

“Very well, but next time a raised hand will suffice.” Mr. Roben say wryly.

He practically sprinted out of the room to the chuckles of his classmates.

“Wow. Parker must really have to go.” He heard Flash say with a laugh as the door closed behind him.

Once he was safe in the hallway, he ran to the closest bathroom, glad to see it was empty as he threw himself into the farthest stall and slammed the door. He closed his eyes and leaned against it, gasping for air. He slid down to the floor and tried to breathe.

He was at school. He was in the bathroom. He was safe. He wasn’t there. Tony wasn’t dead. It wasn’t real. Well it was real but not anymore. Tony was fine. He was alive. Peter was alive. Everyone was safe. Everyone was fine.

So why couldn’t he stop freaking out?

His hands started tingling. Dammit. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t believe he was losing his shit over a teacher snapping his fingers in class. He shook his head in anger at himself as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, shakily opening up his most recent text conversation with Tony.

His fingers hovered over the keys. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Tony about this. He’d come running. And Peter didn’t need that. He didn’t want to worry him. He just needed something. Reassurance. Something to distract him. Ground him.

He tried to think of something smart or funny to say, but his brain was failing him in more ways than one at the moment. So he settled on typing out a single word.

Hey.

Hey yourself. Tony responded seconds later. Thank god. If he’d kept him hanging, Peter didn’t know what he would’ve done. Probably worked himself up into thinking he was still dead.

Shouldn’t you be in school?

I am.

Then shouldn’t you be paying attention?

Nah. It’s boring. What are you doing?

Watching Frozen 3 with Morgan. And you think you’re bored…

That got a smile out of him and he realized his breathing had started to slow down.

Yeah she loves that stupid movie. I think I have all the words to it memorized by now. Don’t tell anyone.

I won’t. I’m right there with you.

Peter re-read the last sentence over and over again. He knew Tony didn’t mean it in the way Peter was faking himself into interpreting it, but it still helped. I’m right there with you. And he was. Peter wasn’t alone. Even though he was the only person in the bathroom right now. Tony was with him. He was helping him. Calming him down even though he didn’t know it.

Did you know they’re making another one? He typed. His hands had stopped tingling and he no longer felt like his heart was trying to escape through his chest.

Nooo. Don’t tell me that.

You just ruined my day.

Do you know how many times I have to watch these things on repeat when they first come out? Over and over and over again.

I think I almost lost my mind the last time.

I can’t do that again. I can’t Parker.

Peter laughed at the tirade of texts and sent a corresponding emoji.

It’s not funny. Seriously. When it comes out you’re on babysitting duty.

He sent the eye rolling emoji at that.

See how long you can take it before your ears start to bleed.

I think I can take it. I’m tough. He typed back, smile still on his face, panic forgotten.

Yeah you are kid. Tony responded genuinely instead of continuing the light hearted joking.

You all good now? Tony asked.

Peter scoffed. Of course Tony knew he hadn’t just texted because he was bored. He thought about blowing it off or denying it, but figured it’d be pointless.

Yeah. Thanks. I was just having kind of a bad moment earlier. He admitted.

Do you need me to come pick you up?

No. I think I’m ok now. I should get back to class.

You’re cutting class?

No. I’m in the bathroom.

You’re texting me from the bathroom?

Yeah…

His phone started vibrating as Tony called him, requesting a video call. He denied it.

Answer the phone. Tony texted immediately.

I can’t. I just told you I’m in the bathroom. Someone could hear. The bathroom was empty right now but someone could still walk in at any moment.

I’m coming to get you.

No. Tony seriously. I’m fine. I couldn’t text in class so I had to think of an excuse to leave. That’s it. He wrote. Although that wasn’t exactly it. He’d left so he didn’t have a freak out in front of his entire class, not just so he could text Tony, but Tony didn’t need to know that.

You sure you don’t need me to pick you up?

I’m sure. I only have one more class left. I can make it.

You don’t have to.

I know. But I want to. I’m ok now. I swear. You can stand down. It was true. The unbridled terror from earlier had left him. He still felt kind of weak and shaky in the aftermath, but he could deal with that.

Ok. I want you to know I’m going against my instincts and trusting you on this. Don’t make me regret it.

Peter sent another eye rolling emoji.

Call me after school.

Ok.

Or sooner if you need me to come pick you up.

He sent Tony the thumbs up emoji and pocketed his phone as he stood. He unlocked the stall door and made his way back to class, feeling remarkably better. It was nice to know that Tony was there for him. That he was alive and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Now if he could only convince his subconscious of that fact.

Peter watched as Tony stared straight ahead, not really registering anything.

“You can rest now.” Pepper told him and Peter wanted to scream. But for some reason he didn’t. The moment was too solemn for that. Tony was dying. He’d saved them all and now he was dying for it. Peter wanted to be sick.

“Tony.” He mumbled and tried to step closer but Rhodey held him back.

No no no. Tony was going.

“No.” He protested, trying to break free to be able to touch his mentor. To hold him. To be there as he went where Peter couldn’t follow.

Rhodey held fast and for some reason he couldn’t break free.

Tony’s features went slack and his eyes deadened as life left him.

“No! Tony!” He yelled, feeling like his own heart had been ripped out of his chest.

“Peter.” Someone shook him. “Peter wake up!”

Peter’s eyes snapped open and he gulped in deep breaths. May hovered over him.

“It was just a dream baby.” She murmured reassurances. “Just a dream.”

“May.” He gasped and she sat down on his bed and gathered him into her arms.

“I’m here sweetheart. It was only a dream.” She said as she held him tight.

“Tony?” He asked. He couldn’t help it.

“He’s fine Peter. He’s fine.” She said. “He’s alive remember? You saved him.”

“I did? That was real?” His brain always had a hard time catching up, discerning dream from reality, right after awakening.

“Yes.”

“He’s alive?”

“Yeah baby.”

He nodded and tried to catch his breath.

“Do you want to call him?” May offered. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Peter shook his head. He didn’t want to wake Tony up in the middle of the night because he'd had a bad dream. Because he was weak. “N-no. I’m fine.”

“Peter.” May sighed, and he could hear her frustration.

“I’m fine.” He said, more stubbornly and pulled away. “It was just a stupid dream.”

“You’ve been through a lot. It’s not stupid sweetheart.”

“Yes it is. Because Tony’s fine. I’m fine. Everyone’s fine.” He practically growled. “I don’t know why this keeps happening. I just want it to stop.”

“That’s not how it works baby.” May placed a comforting hand on his head.

He’d figured that out. He’d barely slept since Tony had returned him to May’s. But he didn’t understand why. And the worst part was May was starting to catch on.

“I’m fine.” He grit out and pulled away from her hand. “I just want to be alone. Please.”

“If that’s what you want.” May sounded unsure but she stood, giving him his space.

“It is. I’m sorry for waking you up.” Peter said and rolled so his back faced her. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t mind honey.”

“I know.” Peter mumbled. “But I’m fine.”

“Ok.” May sighed. “I love you.”

She kissed his forehead.

“Love you too May.” He mumbled.

“Sleep tight.”

He hummed and kept his eyes scrunched closed until he heard her leave and close his door behind him.

Once she was gone, he sat back up. He refused to sleep again. He pulled out his phone and brought up a new game had Ned had showed him earlier in the week. He ended up playing it until his alarm went off for school hours later. He didn’t even care how tired he was. He just wished he could figure out how to get his brain to accept the fact that Tony was back and that he didn’t need to be sad anymore.

Tony landed at the entrance of the compound, tapping the central housing so the Ironman nanosuit retracted. He hurried inside. He was more than a little leery about what could’ve possibly happened to make Rhodey call him and insist he come as fast as possible while refusing to tell him why. Rhodey hadn’t seemed worried, if anything he’d seemed happy, but the demand of his presence still had him on edge and thinking the worst. Tony really didn’t think he could deal with another world ending threat right now.

He walked briskly through the compound to the common area. The closer he got, the more he could hear uproarious laughter. It almost sounded like they were celebrating something. What the hell?

“What’s going on in here?” He asked as he walked into the room.

“Stark!” Clint cried out happily and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Come join us. We’re celebrating!”

“Celebrating what?” He frowned at the clearly inebriated man hanging off him.

“Me.”

Tony gasped and his neck snapped so fast to the side, he felt it crack. But his ears weren’t playing tricks on him. She was here.

“Nat.” The name escaped him in a reverent whisper.

“Hi Tony.” She smiled demurely at him.

“Um.” He blinked in shock. “Hi.”

He pushed Clint off him so he could make his way to Natasha’s side, her smile widening the closer he got. He stopped right in front of her and looked her up and down. She was alive and whole. Not dead. He shook his head minutely in disbelief before huffing out a noise of relief and engulfing her in a hug.

She wasted no time in hugging him back. She was solid beneath his arms. She looked the exact same as the day she’d left to go with Clint to Vormir.

He pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. “What? How?”

“The great orator is speechless.” Rhodey joked, clapping a hand against his back. “It’s great isn’t it?”

“Yeah it-it is, but how?” He couldn’t stop staring at Nat in wonder. Never in a million years had he expected to see her again. Having her in front of him felt like walking through a dream. Was this how everyone else felt about him?

“We returned the soul stone to Vormir.” Sam explained. “We got Nat back in return.”

“The soul stone for a soul.” Clint mimed in a dark, menacing voice, but then he grinned and said, “We showed that red faced bastard.”

“I don’t know what crazy here is talking about but I’ll take it.” Tony smiled and pulled Nat into a hug again.

“All right all right.” Clint elbowed him aside so he could put his arm around Nat. “Stop hogging the guest of honor.”

Nat rolled her eyes but smiled. “I’m not the only guest of honor apparently.”

Tony frowned.

“We got Vision back this morning too.” Sam said.

“Really?” Tony smiled. He’d known they were going to use the time travel technology to retrieve him at some point this week like they’d discussed, but he hadn’t been in the loop regarding when.

“Yeah he’s back there.” Clint tossed his head back toward where the rest of the Avengers were gathered on the couch. Tony glanced back and caught sight of Wanda, Vision, Bruce, Scott, and the back of someone else’s head.

“I wasn’t only talking about Vision.” Nat said to him. “I heard you were dead until recently too.”

Tony waved away the comment. “I already had my party.”

“And it was glorious.” Clint joked. “I puked until noon the next day.”

“Classy.” Tony shook his head.

Clint laughed. “Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll grab you a drink Stark. What’ll it be. Beer? Whiskey?”

“Scotch neat.” He and Rhodey answered in unison.

“Surprised you didn’t marry him.” Clint thrust a thumb in the direction of the colonel as he walked toward the kitchen.

“Surprised you didn’t marry her.” Tony said in response, pointing to Nat.

Nat and Rhodey both rolled their eyes. Clint kept laughing but got out, “I tried. She wouldn’t have me.”

“Oh please.” Nat shook her head. “You’re delusional.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself!” Clint said back and then gestured down his body. “Just know you missed out on this.”

“Oh god.” Tony made a face of disgust and asked Nat, “Why are you friends with him again?”

“We love each other.” Nat answered succinctly, not inviting bullshit.

“Like you love me?” He smirked.

“Not quite.” Nat answered, and ouch, that hurt. “But I love you too Tony.”

He beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well good, because I’m pretty fond of you myself.”

This time she rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Jesus just say it.” Rhodey called him out. “I thought you weren’t as emotionally stunted ever since you had Morgan.”

“I don’t have to say it. Nat knows I love her. Right?”

“I do.” She smiled back, eyes twinkling with amusement. He drank in the face he never thought he’d get to see again.

“Well good.” Rhodey gave a decisive nod.

“Rhodes get over here. I need more hands man.” Clint called and Rhodey shook his head in consternation but went to help.

Now that they had a moment alone, Tony took advantage of it. He rested a hand on Nat’s shoulder and looked her in the eye as he asked, “You all right?”

She considered it for a moment, eyes narrowing in thought, before answering, “Yeah. You?”

She peered into his eyes just as intensely. The corner of his mouth upturned before he answered honestly, “Yeah. I am.”

“Good.” She smiled and stepped forward to give him another hug.

“God I’m glad you’re back.” He whispered into her hair.

She squeezed him tighter in response. He kissed the side of her face and let go.

“Your drink Stark.” Clint said, holding out the tumbler with scotch once they’d disengaged.

“Thanks birdbrain.” He said as he took it.

The four of them made their way over to the rest of the Avengers. Vision stood as Tony walked directly to him. Tony noticed he was back in his human form instead of his android appearance.

“Hey Viz. Good to see you back.” Tony held out his hand and Vision shook it.

“It is good to be back.” The man nodded.

“It's very good.” Wanda added from his side.

Tony smiled at her and Vision sat back down on the couch. Wanda rested her head on his shoulder.

“Although I will admit it is a little odd since I don’t remember leaving.” Vision added with a quirk of his head.

“Yeah join the club.” Tony agreed before catching Wanda’s eye and asking, “So the stones, they’re…”

“Destroyed.” Wanda answered. “This morning.”

“Good.” Tony nodded and sighed heavily. That was definitely a weight off his chest.

“Tony.” A familiar voice from behind him spoke.

He whirled around and his jaw dropped. Steve. Only he was about sixty years older than Tony remembered.

“Cap.” He managed to say, but it came out strangled.

“It’s really good to see you.” Steve smiled and pushed off the couch shakily to stand.

And Tony realized in that moment that it’d been decades, a lifetime really, for Steve since they’d last interacted. And as angry as he’d been to find out Cap had selfishly ditched the Avengers, he found it fading away now that he was faced with the man.

“It’s…good to see you too.” He said and crossed the distance between them. “You’re looking…spry.”

Steve laughed and it was familiar and alien at the same time. It was still Steve, but it was weaker than Tony was used to, and it had the edge of an old man wheeze to it.

Steve set his hands on his shoulders and said earnestly, “I’m really glad things turned out for you.”

Tony nodded and graced the man with a small smile. “You too.”

They stared at each other for a few long seconds. Steve was probably waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Tony to erupt with a spew of insults. Tony knew he should be angry. Should be yelling, accusing Steve of abandoning everyone, abandoning his duty, being selfish, but he couldn’t bring himself to do any of that. Not after he’d died and been brought back. And not when Steve looked like a stiff breeze might knock him over. In that moment Tony decided it’d be better to finally let all his animosity toward Cap go. Better for him. Better for Steve. Better for everyone. He broke the stalemate and leaned forward to hug the man.

When they let each other go, Tony realized the room had gone silent. Everyone was probably watching them, and their uncharacteristic interaction, but Tony ignored it.

“I hear you lived a good life.” Tony smiled as he helped Steve sit back down on the couch and took a seat on the empty cushion next to him.

“I did.” Steve smiled back. “I followed an old friend’s example. Married the girl I loved. Had a couple kids. Bought a house on a lake. Lived happily ever after. Never looked back.”

A lump formed in his throat, but he refused to let it show. “Sounds like your friend was a pretty smart guy.”

“The smartest.” Steve said with a grin and sparkling eyes.

Clint made a fake gagging sound and interrupted their heart to heart moment. “That’s enough already. The two of you are going to make me sick. What the hell is going on? You’re supposed to hate each other.”

“We never hated each other.” Tony and Steve said at the exact same time. They both looked at each other in surprise and then burst out laughing. It was true, though. Even at their lowest, Tony had never truly hated Steve. He’d felt angry and betrayed and been deeply hurt by him, but he’d never hated him.

“Whatever.” Clint rolled his eyes. “Now that we’re done with all the touchy feely moments, what do you say we play king’s cup?”

“What are you, in college?” Tony asked. “Because that’s the last time I played that. And I was fifteen.”

“Come on. The gang’s all together. We’re celebrating. It’ll be fun.” Clint insisted.

They all exchanged glances but no one vetoed it.

Nat shrugged. “Why not?”

“Um I hate to be the downer here, but does anyone even have a deck of cards?” Scott asked.

No one piped up.

“Shit.” Clint swore.

They didn’t end up playing king’s cup but they played some other ridiculous drinking game late into the evening. The details about everything eventually came out. Clint and Sam’s sojourn to Vormir to unexpectedly return with Natasha alive and well. Steve’s life story including how he’d also gotten Nat back in return for the soul stone when he’d gone back in time, but it hadn’t brought Nat back in this time, and had instead created another alternate reality where Natasha had returned and lived. After all this was said and done, Tony shuddered to think about how many alternate realities they’d created and what kind of havoc that could possibly wreak.

When dinner time arrived, Tony ordered a slew of pizzas for everyone with the hope that it’d also help soak up some of the alcohol. Honestly, he doubted it would help much since Sam, Clint, and Scott had already gone off in the corner to sing karaoke by themselves, but he figured it couldn’t hurt, and he was getting a little hungry himself.

Tony was chowing down a piece of sausage pizza, and in the middle of arguing the finer points of time travel and the multiverse theory with Bruce, when his phone rang.

“Hello?” He answered without checking the caller ID, not bothering to mask the happiness in his voice. It was probably Pepper wondering where he’d disappeared to. He couldn’t wait to tell her the good news.

“Tony?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Hey May. What’s up?” He asked, holding a finger up to Bruce and standing from the couch.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have some time to talk?” May asked.

“For you? Always.” He stepped away from the noise out onto the balcony so he could have the rest of the conversation in peace. “What’s up?”

“It’s Peter.” She said and Tony’s stomach sank.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s-he’s not doing so well.”

“What do you mean?” Tony asked. Was the kid sick again? He’d been fine when he’d dropped him off Sunday night and that had only been five days ago. Tony had talked to him on the phone and texted everyday since, and besides the brief text conversation they'd had yesterday during school, Peter hadn’t mentioned anything was wrong.

“He’s having nightmares almost every night and I think they’re about you know. You...dying, but he refuses to call you.” May sighed heavily. “I think he’s worried about bothering you.”

“Well that’s stupid.” Tony scoffed.

“I know that and you know that, but Peter doesn’t. And it’s not just the nightmares. He’s still not acting himself. I thought with you back, he’d snap out of it, but he hasn’t. I think he’s still struggling, but he won’t talk to me. And…I don’t know what to do.”

Tony rapped his fingers on the balcony railing as he thought about it.

“How about I pick him up from school tomorrow and take him for the weekend? Maybe I can get him to talk to me.” He offered.

“Really? That’d be great.” Tony hated how relieved she sounded. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. You know I just want what’s best for him.”

“I know but thank you. Do you want to tell him or should I?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“He might take it better coming from you. If I tell him, he’ll think I’m trying to handle him.” May said wryly.

“Right.” Tony had forgotten how stubborn the kid could be. “I’ll tell him then.”

“Ok. Thank you Tony. I’ll give you a call this weekend.”

“Sounds good. Bye May.”

“Bye.”

He hung up and sighed. He quickly found Peter Parker’s name in his phone and decided to shoot him a text instead of calling, not sure he could mask the worry in his voice right now. He didn’t want to accidentally get into a deep discussion over the phone or say something that might make Peter not want to come with him for the weekend.

I’m picking you up from school tomorrow and you’re spending the weekend with me. May gave the ok. Pack a bag.

A few seconds later he received Peter’s reply. Ok!

Great. Now he just had to figure out what was he going to do about his kid.

“Welcome back boss.” FRIDAY greeted as Tony walked into his workshop and sat down in his desk chair for the first time since his time travel resurrection.

“It’s good to be back.” He agreed. Usually he wouldn’t have stayed away from his work for this long, but he’d been busy taking care of Peter when he’d gotten sick and then Morgan when she'd been struck down by the same illness. He hadn’t told Peter that because he hadn’t wanted him to feel too guilty. In retrospect, he probably should’ve kept the two of them apart while one of them was sick, but realistically, he didn’t know if he would’ve been able to even if he’d tried. The two of them were thick as thieves.

Then once Morgan had recovered and gone back to preschool, Nat had returned with the Avengers. So today was the first time he’d had a free moment to escape to his workshop. Morgan was at preschool and Pepper was in the city again, finishing up discussions with the SI board about announcing his return. The plan was to do it on Monday so at least he’d still get to enjoy the weekend with Peter.

“Got anything for me?” He asked as he brought up his hologram desk.

“You have one alert from the Spiderman suit.” FRIDAY answered.

Tony frowned. Peter wasn’t supposed to be using the suit. And as far as he knew, Peter wasn’t. He’d set up an alert to go to his phone if the kid put it on before Tony had okayed it.

“From when?”

“Twenty four days ago.” FRIDAY answered.

So from before he’d returned. Obviously it couldn’t be that bad since the kid had been well enough to go back in time and rescue him.

“Would you like me to play the baby monitor footage?” FRIDAY asked.

“Sure.” Tony shrugged and took a drink of his green smoothie as he leaned back in the desk chair. If it was something bad, he could bring it up to the kid when he picked him up from school in a few hours.

The footage played in the air in front of him.

“Peter it is now three hours past the curfew Mr. Stark set for you.” Karen’s voice announced over the video.

“I know Karen. It’s not like it matters. There’s no one you can tattletale to anymore.” Peter said and from the viewscreen Tony could tell he was sitting on the roof ledge of a building in Midtown.

“Sorry.” Peter muttered a few seconds later.

“I recommend you return home to sleep. Due to your fatigue, your reaction times have been 0.2 seconds slower tonight than usual. I have noted a gradual progressive increase in this delay over the past week.”

Tony frowned. That didn’t sound good. The kid shouldn’t have been going out as Spiderman like that. Was this what FRIDAY had wanted him to see? He took another drink of his smoothie.

“I am concerned for your wellbeing Peter.” Karen added.

“Yeah well join the club.” Peter muttered back.

“Your safety is my primary objective. It has not escaped my notice that lately your behavior has become increasingly erratic and you have been taking more unacceptable risks.”

Tony’s frown deepened. What did that mean?

Peter snorted. “I’m fine Karen.”

There was silence for half a minute before Peter sighed. “All right. Fine. I’m going home. Happy?”

“Very.”

Tony watched as Peter stood and jumped off the ledge and started webbing from building to building. Why was the footage still playing? Hadn’t he already seen what he needed to?

He opened his mouth, about to ask FRIDAY, when the kid suddenly started falling on the viewscreen. And not the typical short falls he did while swinging. This was an all out plummet toward the ground.

“Peter is there something wrong with your webshooter?” Karen asked.

Peter didn’t answer. He just kept falling. Had he taken a hit Tony hadn’t noticed? Had he passed out for some other reason? Was he unconscious?

“Peter.” Karen warned. Why was Karen trying to talk to him if he was unconscious?

The ground grew closer on the viewscreen and warnings erupted across it in red.

“Oh my god.” Tony gasped, eyes wide as saucers as he watched. He had to force himself to remain seated. Instincts screamed at him to get in the Ironman suit and fly to Peter, but it wouldn’t help this time, because this wasn’t currently happening. And since Peter was still alive, he obviously hadn’t ended up as a spider pancake on the asphalt, even though that’s what it looked like was about to happen.

“Peter you must deploy your webshooter.” Karen ordered.

Finally there was movement on the screen. Tony watched as Peter extended his arm out and…stopped.

What? Why the hell wasn’t he saving himself? Tony couldn’t help it. He shot to his feet. He couldn’t stay seated and watch this.

“Peter!” Karen yelled. Tony didn’t remember programming her to be able to do that.

Peter gasped, audible over the viewscreen, and then the webshooter shot off a web onto a nearby building. When it caught, the kid let out a small cry from the force of it. That had to hurt. But he was swinging again. He wasn’t dead.

“Christ.” Tony mumbled and sank back down into the desk chair, knees weak. The kid couldn’t be more than thirty feet off the ground.

He’d almost just… He’d almost just watched his kid… What? What was that? Why had Peter done that? He hadn’t been hurt. His webshooter hadn’t malfunctioned. It didn’t compute.

Tony watched as the video continued to play and Peter wasn’t able to recover quite as well as Tony had thought. He ended up rolling roughly across the ground in a barely controlled crash. The dizzying movements across the screen finally stopped when Peter collided with a dumpster at the end of an alleyway. He hit it way too fast. Injury reports started flashing on the screen.

The view tilted and Tony frowned as Peter took in the practically demolished dumpster he’d crashed into before he went back to staring at the sky. The tense silence of Tony’s workshop was broken only by the rough gasps he heard over the video.

Tony almost dropped his smoothie when Peter suddenly erupted in laughter, hysterical giggles resounding throughout the room. But it wasn’t happy laughter. It had a crazed edge to it. Something Tony had never wanted or expected to hear coming from Peter. He slowly set his smoothie down on the desk in front of him. His hands were shaking. He didn’t want to watch this anymore, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. He had to watch it.

At least the laughter didn’t last very long, but what came after was almost worse. Peter’s breath stuttered from one laugh to the next and then he started crying with abandon. The sound of deep devastated sobs filled the room. Tony’s own breath caught and he wiped at his cheeks now marred by tears.

Had Peter tried to kill himself?

Was that what he’d really just witnessed?

He couldn’t think of any other explanation.

And this had happened only a few weeks ago?

“Fuck.” He stood so abruptly his desk chair went careening across the floor, but he barely noticed it as he sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Peter had been suicidal while he'd been gone? Was that the only time? It was the only time recorded in the suit, but had it happened out of the suit too?

He ran out of the house, not even pausing to lock it behind him.

How had everyone missed this?

He flung himself into the driver’s seat of his fastest car.

Everyone had mentioned how badly Peter had dealt with his death and that they’d been worried about him, but no one had straight out said they’d thought he was depressed or suicidal.

He threw the car into gear and floored the pedal so it went shooting down the driveway toward the road. The only reason he wasn’t taking the Ironman armor was because Peter was in school. He was safe in school. People were around. He was being supervised. But Tony was still pulling him out as soon as he got there.

He turned from the gravel road onto the highway, tires squealing as he took it too fast. He didn’t care. He floored the gas pedal, easily hitting 100 mph, 110 mph, 120 mph. There was no one in sight on the road, but eventually he forced his foot to back off. The speed ramped back down to 90 mph. He wouldn’t be doing Peter any good if he got in an accident and ended up in the hospital, or worse, dead again.

The guilt ate at him. How had he missed this?

Everything started to click horribly into place. The loss of appetite, the weight loss, the not sleeping, the recklessness. Obviously the kid was depressed. But everyone had attributed it to grief, which sure, maybe that’d been the trigger, but depression didn’t work like that. Tony knew from personal experience. It was probably why Peter was still struggling, as May had put it. Tony coming back wasn’t going to magically correct the chemical imbalance in his brain and make him perfectly fine again.

How bad was it? Was the kid still suicidal? Had Tony’s return at least helped with that? Or had he even ever been that bad? Had the baby monitor footage been something else? Peter’s plummet hadn’t seemed very planned, more of a spur of the moment thing. If he’d wanted to take his life, he could’ve thrown the webshooters to the side and just jumped from the top of the building he’d been sitting on in the beginning. The thought of that made Tony grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

God.

He hated that he was so far away from his kid. He hadn’t considered this scenario when he and Pepper had decided to move to the lake house. They’d thought it’d be better for Morgan. More privacy. Nature. Cleaner air. It’d been an easy decision. They hadn’t had any compelling reason to stay in the city. Peter had been gone. And Pepper hadn’t minded the commute into the office.

Tony was starting to rethink it. He couldn’t be this far from Peter.

If the suit footage had been happening in real time there was no way he would’ve made it in time from all the way out here in the Ironman armor. Even from the city he still probably wouldn’t have made it in time, but he deluded himself into thinking there might’ve been a chance.

He sped down the highway, scenery blindly passing him by. All he could see over and over again was his kid falling.

And he hadn’t been there to catch him.

Chapter Text

Tony peeled over to the side of the road at the school. He’d barely put the car in park before he was sprinting out of it. The long drive hadn’t helped his anxiety any. The only thing that would was seeing his kid. He got to the front door and paused to run his hands down his suit, an automatic habit, before he realized he wasn’t even wearing one. He’d run out of his house in a pair of dark jeans and a t-shirt. He hadn’t let anyone see him in public like this in as long as he could remember. Shit.

At least he’d remembered his sunglasses. He shook his head and took a deep breath as he threw the door open and began striding confidently to the office. He’d only been inside Peter’s school a couple times before, but it was enough to remember where to go.

He did his best to mask the anxiety coursing under his skin as he burst into the office like he owned the place. The secretary was busy on the phone and didn’t so much as glance up in his direction. Luckily, no one else was around.

He cleared his throat and announced, “I’m here to pick up Peter Parker.”

The secretary looked up and her jaw dropped.

“Um I’m going to have to call you back Jan.” She hung up the phone and sat a little straighter as she asked professionally, “And you are?”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her his best ‘are you kidding me?’ look.

“Um right. Mr. Stark. I’ll just uh— Does he know you’re coming?”

“No but I’m on that contact list thingy so I can take him.” He waved his hand absently. May had put him on it as a backup before Peter had been dusted. He assumed the records were still the same.

She blinked and typed something, looking at her computer screen.

“Oh. You are.” She said with no small amount of surprise.

“Yeah so can you get him for me?” He tried not to let his impatience show too much even as he tapped his index finger on the counter.

“Of course.” She glanced at the computer again. “It looks like he’s in chemistry with Mrs. Fullbright right now. Let me just call down to her room and have him come to the office.”

Tony waited while she picked up the phone and did exactly that.

“He’s on his way Mr. Stark.” She informed him as she hung up the phone, as if he hadn’t heard the entire conversation himself. She held a clipboard out to him. “If you could just sign him out for me.”

“I don’t like to be handed things.” He said, not taking it.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. He could tell she was trying to figure out if he was kidding or serious. When he made no move to take it, she set it down on the counter in front of him.

He looked it over and pulled one his own pens out of his pocket, filling out Peter’s name, time and dating it, and then scrawling his messy signature in.

“If this ends up on ebay, I’ll know who to sue.” He told her seriously as he nudged the clipboard back toward her. The idea of his signature next to Peter’s name on a school sign out form made him uneasy. It wouldn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out it meant he was close to the kid. He didn’t love the idea of people connecting them for Peter’s own safety, even though he was Spiderman.

“I would never.” The woman said, affronted enough that he believed her.

“Good.” He nodded and the office door opened behind him.

“You wanted to see me Ms. Schmidt?” Peter’s voice asked.

Tony turned and saw surprise flash across Peter’s face. The sight of his kid alive and well in front of him finally unfurled some of the dark fear in his chest.

“Uh Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Parker.” He raised an eyebrow at the kid. Peter had been doing a lot better about calling him Tony lately.

“Mr. Stark signed you out.” The secretary explained.

“Oh.” Peter’s brow furrowed.

“Come on.” Tony grasped his shoulder and led him out the door.

“Have a good day.” Ms. Schmidt called out after them. Peter, with his impeccable manners, thanked her, but Tony just threw his hand up in a haphazard good-bye.

“Do you have all your stuff?” Tony asked. All he saw was a backpack slung over the kid’s shoulder.

“No. It’s in my locker.”

“All right. Let’s go get it.”

“Um not that it’s not good to see you and everything, but uh, what are you doing here?” Peter asked as they walked down the hallway toward his locker.

“Picking you up.” Tony decided to keep it simple for now.

“Is something going on? Is there like…a mission?” Peter whispered the last part as he fiddled with his locker’s combination, popping it open.

“No. And even if there was, you wouldn’t be coming. Remember?”

Peter rolled his eyes as he shoved even more books into his backpack. “So why are you here two hours early then?”

The second he asked the question, Peter froze and looked up at him with fear filled eyes. “Is everyone ok? Are Pepper and Morgan—”

“Everyone’s fine kid. Don’t worry.”

“So you picked me up early just because? I’m missing a Spanish quiz for this.” Peter complained as he re-shouldered his backpack and pulled out the duffel shoved in the bottom of his locker.

“You can make up the Spanish quiz.” Tony said, taking the duffel from him.

“But—” Peter started to argue but then got distracted by grabbing for the duffel. “I-I can get that. You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” Tony said. “Let’s go.”

Peter shut the locker with a sigh. “Tony, what is this really about?”

“We’re not talking about it here.” Tony said as he rested a hand on Peter back and started guiding him out.

“So something is wrong.” Peter frowned but kept walking

“You could say that.” Tony wrapped an arm around his kid. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

Peter frowned up at him, but he didn’t say anything else, and he let Tony lead him the rest of the way out of the school and into the car. Tony just enjoyed the relief at having Peter safely in his grasp.

His racing heart had finally calmed by the time they both buckled into the Audi and he drove away, on the way back to the lake house.

“So…what’s up?” Peter asked suspiciously, eyeing him.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home.” Tony answered, squeezing the steering wheel as he tried not to think about the sight of his amazing kid falling from the sky.

Peter gave him an unreadable look, but instead of correcting the fact that he’d referred to the lake house as home, he asked, “Am I in trouble?”

“No.”

“Ok…” Peter said, eyes narrowing.

“How are things going with the nutritionist?” Tony asked, changing the subject.

Peter shrugged. “She’s making me eat these nasty shakes all the time but otherwise it’s been fine.”

Tony nodded. He already knew that. Nicole had submitted Peter’s plan to him earlier in the week.

Peter stared out the window for a couple more minutes before he interrupted the silence to ask, “So there’s really no crazy world ending thing going on?”

Even though Tony was worried beyond belief, his mouth twitched into a smile. “No. Sheesh you’ve gotten paranoid since I’ve been gone.”

Peter’s skepticism was apparent.

“We need to talk about something, but it can wait until we get back to the house.” Tony reiterated.

“But it couldn’t wait until the end of school?” Peter asked, confused.

“No.” Tony answered.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“Doesn’t need to.” Tony said. “Now tell me about your day.”

Peter eyed him for a few long seconds before he seemed to realize he didn’t have any hope of getting Tony to explain further, so he shrugged and answered, “It was all right.”

But he didn’t elaborate, which wasn’t like him at all. Usually he’d be talking a mile a minute and gesturing wildly to describe everything. How could Tony have missed this?

“How’s your friend Ted?”

“Ned.” Peter corrected and rolled his eyes but at least that got a smile out of him. “He’s good.”

That topic got Peter to talk. He talked about what they were working on in school and how Ned had been worried the Avengers were going to come and arrest him for helping Peter, which forced a laugh out of Tony.

With a little more prompting, Peter told him about decathlon practice and May’s new work schedule and how he’d been trying to learn how to cook but it was actually a lot harder than it looked. The conversation reached the point where it flowed easily and freely between them. But Peter still wasn’t his usual happy, bubbly self. He wasn’t the kid Tony remembered.

And he never mentioned a thing about any nightmares or his lack of sleep.

He never even came close to admitting that he was still struggling.

Even though now that Tony knew to look for it, the signs were as clear as the nose on his face.

The drive back didn’t feel as long or as terrifying as the drive to Peter’s school. Having Peter in the car with him had quelled the worst of his panic, and before long they were pulling into the lake house driveway.

Tony put the car in park and got out. Peter followed silently right behind.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m about to get yelled at?” Peter asked as soon as they walked into the lake house and Tony closed the door behind them.

“Guilty conscience?” Tony suggested.

“No.” Peter frowned. “Am I about to get yelled at?”

“No.” It was Tony’s turn to frown. “What would I be yelling at you for?”

“I don’t know but you seem…weird.”

“I seem weird? Weird how?” He raised an eyebrow at Peter as he dropped the kid’s duffel at the foot of the stairs.

“Sort of…distracted? Agitated?” Peter said, placing his backpack down next to the duffel and following Tony into the living room. “Kind of how you get whenever I do something you’re trying to figure out how to yell at me for.”

Tony scoffed. “I don’t yell.”

Peter gave him a look of utter disbelief. “Yes you do.”

“Name one time.” Tony held a finger up.

“Uh the time I screwed up and got that ferry torn in half—”

“Ok I’ll give you that one but that was a long time ago and I’ve gotten better since then. You’re going to have to give me something more recent than that.”

“On the way to Titan when you found out I stowed away.”

That wasn’t so recent for Tony, but it was for Peter. “I didn’t yell. I talked sternly with a slightly raised voice.”

“That’s like the very definition of yelling.”

“Agree to disagree.” Tony said as he sat on the couch, but then added quickly, “But I didn’t yell at you.”

Peter rolled his eyes but let him have the last word.

“Ok, so serious talk now. You’re not exactly wrong. You did do something. Not something I’m going to yell at you for, but it’s something we need to talk about.” Tony patted the cushion next to him.

“Is this something the reason you picked me up early?” Peter asked as he sat down.

“Yes.”

“I don’t…” He could see Peter wracking his brain. “I don’t have any idea what I did.”

“That’s ok.” Tony shifted so he was facing Peter more directly on the couch. “We’ll get to it. First, I want you to answer a question for me honestly.”

“Ok…”

“How have you been doing?” He kept the question light.

“Um I’ve been fine.” Peter shrugged but his eyes flicked down to the ground, one of his tells.

“I said I wanted you to answer honestly Pete.” Tony grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact. He leaned in and asked again, slowly, “How have you been doing?”

“I…” Peter paused to lick his lips.

“It’s not a trick question kid. There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.” Tony said, trying to be reassuring.

“I don’t know.” Peter mumbled and Tony could tell he wanted to break the eye contact but Tony didn’t let him. “Not…great…I guess?”

Peter shrugged again and Tony dropped his chin.

“Ok.” Tony nodded and continued lightly, using a technique his therapist had used on him in the past. “Tell me more about that. What do you mean when you say not great?”

“I just…” Peter fidgeted and turned to look out the window instead of at Tony before he admitted. “I’ve been sort of down. And obviously it made sense before because you were gone, and I was sad like all the time, but now you’re back, but I still…”

Peter’s brow furrowed and Tony waited as his kid tried to figure out how to put his feelings into words.

“But I’m still not back to normal.” Peter admitted and looked down at his hands as he mumbled so Tony barely heard him, “And I don’t know why.”

Tony hummed and reached out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder in reassurance. “I might know why.”

Peter looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

“You’re tired during the day, but you can’t sleep at night. You have no appetite. Things you used to love don’t seem to interest you anymore. You have a hard time concentrating at school. Am I right?”

Peter’s eyes widened and he said uncertainly, “Y-yeah. How-how’d you know?”

“Because I’ve been there kid.” Tony squeezed his shoulder again and kept his voice carefully neutral when he added, “It’s called depression.”

Peter’s face twisted in disbelief and he shook his head. “I’m not-I’m not depressed. I’m not sad all the time. I mean I was before when you-when you were gone, but I’m not now. I’m just…not happy?”

“Sometimes that’s how it works kid.” Tony said. “You don’t have to be sad all the time to be depressed.”

Peter chewed his lip uncertainly, but at least he was listening and not arguing.

“I think you might be depressed Pete.” Tony said softly.

Peter frowned, but he seemed to be considering it.

“Maybe…” He finally admitted.

“There’s no shame in it.” Tony said and leaned in closer. “Like I said. I’ve been there. Sometimes even superheroes need a little extra help.”

Peter looked at him hesitantly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded.

“What…what kind of help?” The kid asked, brow still furrowed.

“I’m going find someone you can talk to. That’s the first step.”

“I’m talking to you.” Peter pointed out and it gave Tony a small measure of relief because he could tell the kid was trying to be funny.

“Someone else besides me. But you know you can always talk to me too kid.” Tony said, looking seriously into his eyes.

“I know.” Peter smiled.

Tony returned it.

Peter’s brow furrowed slightly again. “So…when you say you want me to talk to someone, you mean like a therapist, right?”

Tony nodded. “I think that’d be a good start. Maybe a psychiatrist too.”

Definitely a psychiatrist too. He had a feeling Peter was going to need some pharmacological help at first, which might be a problem Tony would need a little help of his own to solve given the kid’s enhanced metabolism.

Peter sighed. “That seems excessive.”

“It’s really not. Trust me.” Tony said, cushioning the words with another smile. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Ok.” Tony nodded and then took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, one of his own nervous tells. “I have one more question. And it’s a really important one.”

Peter blinked in confusion.

Tony leaned in even closer and cupped his kid’s face between his hands, keeping his expression serious. “And I want you to promise me you’ll tell me the truth.”

“Ok.” Peter whispered.

“Promise?”

Peter nodded.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I-I promise.”

He searched Peter’s eyes as he asked, “Have you had any thoughts about hurting yourself?”

“No.” Peter answered quickly.

“Never?” Tony prodded.

The kid blinked, frowned. Tony could see his thoughts whirling. The hesitation was answer enough. Not that Tony really needed it answered. He’d seen the evidence himself.

“Peter.” He prompted sternly when the kid didn’t respond.

“Not-not really.”

“Not really isn’t no.” Tony said, rubbing his thumbs over Peter’s cheeks. “Talk to me kiddo. Please. You’re not in trouble. I just want to help you.”

“I-I haven’t.” Peter denied but it sounded weak.

Tony kept staring at him, waiting.

“Not…” Peter swallowed hard finally admitted, “Not recently.”

“So you have? Before?”

Peter’s foot on the ground bounced with nerves.

“When…when you were gone.” Peter admitted. “It was hard.”

“I know.” Tony whispered, still holding Peter’s face in his hands as he waited patiently, not relenting.

“It wasn’t all the time. Or really that much at all. Maybe just like a couple times? And I…I never would’ve done anything…acted on it.” Peter looked down and to the side. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” Tony said, getting Peter to make eye contact with him again. “It’s ok. Thank you for telling me.”

Peter’s eyes welled with tears.

“Does May know about this?” Tony asked, keeping his voice low even though no one else was around to overhear their conversation.

Peter shook his head slightly in his grasp. “N-no. No one knows.”

“Ok.” Tony pulled Peter’s head forward to kiss his forehead. “It’s going to be ok.”

A tear broke free and Tony brushed it aside with his thumb.

“How—” Peter sniffled, “How’d you know?”

Tony knew he could make a funny quip about knowing everything and lighten the mood, but he didn’t want to do that, so he answered truthfully.

“When I went down to the workshop today FRIDAY told me there was an event tagged on your suit footage, so I reviewed it./I saw your suit footage today.” Tony said and released Peter’s face.

Tony saw the second Peter realized what he was talking about. The kid’s eyes went wide in surprise before turning chagrined.

“You saw that?” The kid practically squeaked out the question. “Me falling?”

Tony nodded.

“That-that was just a mistake.” Peter said. “I didn’t…I didn’t plan that. I wasn’t trying to…”

“Kill yourself?” Tony finished bluntly, not mincing the words.

“I wasn’t.” Peter repeated, but it came out soft and uncertain, like he still wasn’t sure. “I-I wouldn’t do that.”

“Ok.” Tony didn’t argue. “But if you ever have any thoughts like that, I want to tell me. You call me or come find me. Ok?”

“Ok.” Peter whispered in agreement.

Tony sighed. “That video really scared me kid.”

“I know.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Peter said and Tony wished more than anything that Peter could actually promise that. The truth was he’d already survived the loss of Peter Parker once, but he didn’t think he could again.

“You know I love you.” Tony said. He’d never outright said it before, and it was one of his biggest regrets.

“I know.” Peter said and Tony could tell he was trying to imitate the scene in Star Wars where Han Solo used that line on Leia.

“Smart ass.” Tony ruffled hair.

Peter smiled. “I love you too Tony.”

Tony smiled back.

“I love you 3000.” Peter added and Tony’s eyes started to sting.

“Come here kid.” Tony tugged his kid into his arms. Peter went easily.

Tony took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Peter’s hair as they hugged.

“You know you’re my kid right? Biology be damned.” Tony mumbled, wanting to get it all out there. He usually wasn’t so honest, but with Peter he didn’t want to screw anything up. Not now that he had his second chance. Not when he knew his kid was really hurting and needed all the love and reassurance he could get.

“Yeah.” Peter gripped him tighter.

“Ok good. So you know I’m here for you.” Tony said.

Peter nodded in his hold.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but I am now. So we’re going to get through this together, all right?”

Peter nodded again.

Tony knew there was more to discuss, more to do, but there’d be time for all of that later.

For now, he just let himself enjoy holding his kid.

After the talk with Peter, Tony had felt reassured. At least enough so that he didn’t think he needed to put Peter under constant surveillance. But that night, once both of his kids had gone to bed, and he’d had more time down in his workshop to review more suit footage and all the other footage Tony could find of Peter, including the footage of Peter figuring out how to get him back, Tony had to work hard not to second guess himself.

When Tony watched as Peter tested the time travel nano housing and it malfunctioned, sending him flying backward to slam so hard against the wall that it left a dent, and he needed ten minutes before he could even get up, Tony had to run through his breathing exercises. Also, Karen’s concern over Peter’s increased recklessness made a lot more sense when it played out in full color in front of him.

Maybe Peter hadn’t been actively suicidal, but he sure as hell hadn’t been trying very hard to prevent his death.

“FRIDAY stop video playback.” Tony ordered and the projection in front of him disappeared. He threw his glasses down onto his desk and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t watch anymore tonight.

He stood and made his way back upstairs, smiling when he saw Pepper sitting on the couch, wearing yoga pants and one of his Stark Industries hoodies with her computer on her lap and a glass of red wine in her hand. It was a good sight. He had his wife and both his kids under one roof.

“Hi honey.” He said and sat down next to her so they were hip to hip.

“Hey.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Early night?”

“Yeah.”

She turned to her laptop and went back to typing. Tony peered over her shoulder. She was working on some kind of expense report for the SI board. Stuff he hated and had zero interest in but Pepper excelled at.

He rested his head on her shoulder and stared blankly at the screen as she worked. It was almost soothing. She paused intermittently to take sips from her wine glass but otherwise she went right on completing her work and allowing Tony to rest against her. God he loved her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost missed out on spending the rest of his life with her. Couldn’t believe he’d almost missed out on watching Morgan and Peter grow up.

“Hey.” Pepper said softly and he noticed she was looking at him with a frown. “Are you ok?”

He didn’t answer, not wanting to worry her, but not wanting to lie either.

He didn’t even realize silent tears were running down his face until Pepper set her hand against his cheek and he felt the wetness it displaced. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

She set her computer down on the coffee table and turned to gather him fully into her arms, caressing his face and hair comfortingly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I love you. And…I almost missed this.” He murmured into her neck.

“But you didn’t.” She countered.

“I’m sorry I broke my promise.” He whispered. After the snap, he’d hung up the Ironman mantel. He’d retired. He’d promised Pepper he was done. That there would be no more risk, just family life from then on out. And then Steve, Nat, and Scott had showed up at his house and that promise had gone right out the window. And then he’d died.

“It’s ok.” Pepper brushed her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head. “You had to. You had to get Peter back. And you did. You did it.”

Neither of them said anything more. They held each other for a long time until Tony eventually sighed and pulled away.

He gave Pepper a chaste kiss and admitted, “I don’t think the kid’s doing so great.”

“What do you mean?” Pepper frowned.

“I think he’s depressed.”

Worry clouded Pepper’s eyes.

“May called me. Said he isn’t sleeping. And then I saw some footage from his suit from when I was gone and it really worried me. It-it looked bad.”

“Bad how?”

“Like he was trying kill himself.”

Pepper sucked in a breath of air.

“He said he wasn’t.” Tony tried to reassure her. He knew she’d gotten close to him while he’d been gone.

“And you believe him?”

“I don’t know. I think so. I want to.” Tony sighed. He was pretty sure he believed the kid, but a part of him worried. Doubted.

“What are you going to do?”

“I talked to him about it. I’m going to have him see someone. He agreed to it.” Tony shrugged. “And I guess we’ll go from there.”

Pepper hummed in agreement.

“There’s something else I want to do.” The words escaped him in a rush.

Pepper narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What?”

He took a deep breath and continued, “I want us to move back to the city. I need to be closer to Peter. And I know I promised we’d live here but I think—”

“Ok.” Pepper interrupted.

“Ok?” He frowned, confused.

“Ok we’ll move back to the city.” She clarified.

“Just like that?” He couldn’t believe she was agreeing so easily.

“Just like that.” She nodded with a smile.

“But what about Morgan?”

“She’ll come with us too.” Pepper joked.

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. And growing up out here has been great for her, but she’s getting older. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for her to spend some time in the city. To be exposed to more things. More culture. Especially if being in the city is what you think is best for Peter.” Pepper reasoned.

“I think it is.” Tony said. “I-I need to be closer to him. Today I saw that video and it took me almost two hours to get to him. I can’t be that far away from him. Especially if he’s struggling.”

“Then it’s settled.” Pepper nodded. “I’ll call our realtor in the morning.”

Tony smiled. “I thought you’d be a hard sell.”

Pepper shook her head. “No. Not if it’s what Peter needs. He’s your kid too. Moving to New York won’t hurt Morgan but staying here might hurt Peter, so we’re moving to New York. It’s not a hard decision.”

“I love you.” He kissed her. “And you know, we wouldn’t have to sell this place. We could still come out here on weekends or whenever we want to get away.”

“Of course.” Pepper’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in and kissed him, lingering over his lips.

He hummed in appreciation and closed his eyes.

“Bed time?” He suggested.

“Bed time.” She agreed and stood, taking his hand and tugging him to his feet.

They kissed the rest of the way to the bedroom.

Chapter Text

You can rest now.

You can rest now.

You can rest now.

Pepper’s words echoed over and over in his mind.

“No!” He screamed trying to get past her to Tony, but he couldn’t. Someone behind him held him too tight. Rhodey.

“Let me go!” He struggled to get free. “Mr. Stark! Tony!”

If he could just get to him, maybe he could save him.

“No! Tony!” He yelled, but the man didn’t even look at him. He kept staring blankly ahead with lifeless. “Tony!”

“Peter.” He heard the man’s voice, but his lips didn’t move.

“Tony.” He cried. “Tony.”

“I’m right here Peter. Open your eyes.” Tony’s voice said and invisible hands gripped his shoulders and gave him a shake. “Wake up.”

Peter did as he was told, coming out of his nightmare with a jolt.

“There you go.” Tony soothed, hands still on his shoulders. “You’re all right.”

Peter looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in his bedroom at the lake house. He was spending the weekend there. Because Tony wasn’t dead. He was alive. And he was right in front of him.

“Tony?” He worked to catch his breath as his heart thundered in his ears.

“Right here bud.” Tony let go of one shoulder to run a hand over his hair. “Only a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

“It was.” Peter gasped out before he could censor himself.

Tony’s hand paused and his brow furrowed in silent question.

“You died.” Peter explained, stricken.

“Is that what you’ve been dreaming about?”

Peter nodded.

“I’m right here kid.” Tony gathered him into his arms.

“I know. I just-I can’t get it out of my head.” Peter said.

“I’m sorry.” Tony said into his hair.

“You-you were so hurt.” Peter whispered. “You couldn’t even talk.”

Tony winced. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“You died right in front of me. And I couldn’t-I couldn’t do anything.” Peter’s breaths came out in short bursts.

“Shh.” Tony said and ran a hand down the back of his head. “I’m here Pete. I’m right here with you.”

“I know. I know. I just…sometimes I wake up and I-I forget for a minute what’s real and what’s not.” Peter admitted.

Tony hummed and kept holding him.

“I’m sorry I woke you up. I’m sorry you have to-to deal with me.” Peter sniffled.

“Don’t say that.” Tony said and kissed the side of his head.

“I-I—” He couldn’t quite control his panic and catch his breath.

“Shh.” Tony soothed. “It’s ok. Just breathe.”

Tony’s half blackened face flashed into his mind. “I-I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” Tony said. “Breathe with me. In…and out. In…and out.”

Peter tried to listen and model his breathing to match Tony’s. Eventually he managed it and calmed down.

“There you go.” Tony whispered as he relaxed. “Good job kiddo.”

He was half asleep when Tony lowered him back down against his pillows.

Peter reached out blindly to grab his wrist before he could go.

“Tell me what you need.” Tony said with an intensity Peter had never heard from him before.

“Stay?” He asked and knew it was pitiful but he was hurting too much to care.

“I wasn’t going anywhere.” Tony reassured and Peter watched through half lidded eyes as he moved to the other side of the bed and laid down.

Peter expected that to be it, but he was pleasantly surprised when Tony pulled him in so Peter’s head rested on his chest and he was wrapped in the man’s arm. Peter could barely hold back the appreciative tears.

“Better?” Tony asked softly. “Does this help?”

Peter nodded into the man’s chest.

“May told me you’ve been having nightmares.” Tony mumbled.

Peter froze but nodded again. No point in hiding it now that Tony obviously knew.

“What can I do buddy?” Tony entreated. “Tell me how I can help.”

Peter thought for a moment and then answered truthfully, “This…this um…helps. You. Being here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Peter admitted. “It’s um it’s easier to-to remember you’re not gone. That you’re really here now.”

Tony hummed and then asked, “Do you think it’d help if you stayed with me for awhile?”

It probably would, but he couldn’t commute from the lake house to school.

“I-I can’t. I have school.” He explained.

“Pep and I are moving back to the city.” Tony dropped that bombshell like it was nothing.

Peter pushed himself up so he could look the man in his eyes. “What? You are? Since when?”

“Since we decided that’s what would be best.” Tony answered and gently tugged him back down to lay on his chest.

“Best? Best for who?” He mumbled with a frown.

Tony hesitated for a second but answered, “For you kid.”

“You’re moving back to the city for me?” Peter could believe it, but not believe it, at the same time.

“I told you before Pete, you’re my kid, and this is what you need.” Tony brushed his hand through his hair. “And if I’m being honest, it’s what I need too. I don’t want to be this far away from you.”

Peter relaxed further into Tony’s hold. He felt safe and taken care of. Usually he could never fall asleep after a nightmare, but now he found himself fighting sleep.

“And-and I can stay with you? For a little while?” Peter asked.

“For as long as you need. You know you always have a place with me.” Tony answered. “How many times to do I have to say it? You’re my kid.”

Peter’s lips quirked into a smile and he fisted Tony’s t-shirt. Sleep dragged him down. And for once he didn’t fight it. He knew Tony was there. Tony would keep him safe.

Tony woke, momentarily disoriented. He wasn’t in his bedroom and a warm weight rested on his chest. He blinked the lingering fatigue out of his eyes and glanced down. He was met with a mop of brown curls that tickled his nose. That’s right. He’d come into Peter’s room around 2:30AM last night because the kid had had a nightmare, but he’d managed to calm him down enough to get him back to sleep.

Tony craned his neck up as far as he could without dislodging his kid and checked the clock on the nightstand. 9:25AM. It was the latest he could remember sleeping in since before Morgan was born, but Peter had obviously needed it. He was surprised Pepper or Morgan hadn’t woken them up. Actually, the house was eerily silent. He wondered if Pepper had taken Morgan somewhere to keep her occupied this morning so they could get some rest. FRIDAY’s alert last night had woken her up too, so she’d known Peter had had a nightmare and Tony had gone into his room and clearly not come back. Still, Tony figured he should check. And as much as he didn’t want to risk disturbing Peter’s sleep, he really needed coffee.

Slowly, inch by inch he extricated himself from Peter’s hold, expertly swapping in a pillow when he was free so Peter still had something to cuddle with. He tip-toed out of the room, opening and closing the door silently behind him.

He crept the rest of the way through the hallway and down the stairs. Still no sign of Pepper or Morgan. When he got to the kitchen, he found a note stuck to the fridge in Pepper’s handwriting. He plucked it out from under the magnet.

Good morning honey!
I took Morgan into the city for a girl’s morning. Thought you might need to sleep in.
Call me when you wake up. Love you!
Pep

He smiled. He had the best wife. He snuck back upstairs to his bedroom to grab his phone so he could call her.

“Fri let me know if the kid wakes up.” He said once he was safely back in the kitchen.

“Of course boss.”

He dialed Pepper as he searched the fridge for something to make for breakfast.

“Daddy!” Morgan was the one who answered.

“Hey baby.”

“Mommy took me out for breakfast and now we’re going shopping. She says I can pick out a new American Girl doll!” Morgan’s joy was infectious and he grinned as he plucked the milk and the carton of eggs out of the fridge and set them down on the counter.

“Wow!”

“Mommy says it’s because it’s our special girl’s morning together and that you and Petey are going to have a boy’s morning.”

“That’s right.” Tony nodded.

“What are you doing?” She asked curiously, probably not wanting to miss out anything.

“Um well Petey’s still sleeping and I just got up so I’m going to make some breakfast for us.” He said as he pulled the hashbrowns out of the freezer and a packet of bacon from the fridge.

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“That’s boring. I feel bad for Petey. I guess Mommy’s better at girl’s days than you are at boy’s days.”

Tony snorted. “Can I talk to Mommy?”

“Uh huh.” Morgan agreed and Tony heard some ambient noise through the speaker as she handed the phone over.

“Good morning.” Pepper greeted him warmly.

“Hey honey. Thanks for taking Morgan for the morning.” He found the pancake mix in the cupboard and set it down next to the growing pile of breakfast food on the counter.

“Of course. The two of you looked too sweet to disturb this morning.” She teased. “You make a good teddy bear.”

“You would know.” He smirked. Pepper liked to cuddle.

She chuckled. “I’m going to take Morgan shopping but we should be back in a few hours. Is that enough time?”

“Sounds perfect.” He pulled out the pans he was going to need and set them on the stove.

“How was last night?” She asked, turning more serious.

“Not great.” He admitted. “But I got him back to sleep pretty fast, so that’s a plus at least.”

“Yeah.” Pepper sighed.

“He’s been having nightmares about my death and when he wakes up he has a hard time remembering that I’m actually alive now.” Tony told her as he sprayed the pans and turned the burners on.

“That’s tough.”

“Yeah. May told me he hasn’t been sleeping because of them. At least now I know what they’re about so maybe I can try to do something about it.” He said. “I’m glad we’re moving back to the city.”

“Me too.”

“I uh I told him he could stay with us if that would help. He thought it would.” He didn’t think Pepper would protest but he hadn’t exactly asked her before he’d offered the option up to Peter.

“I think that’s a good idea. As long as May’s ok with it.” Pepper agreed.

“I’m going to call her next.”

“Good. Oh, I talked to Jake this morning.”

“Jake?” He frowned and dumped the pancake mix into the mixing bowl.

“Our realtor.” He could hear Pepper’s eye roll through the phone.

“Right.” He shook his head. Like he could be expected to remember everyone’s name.

“Anyway, I told him we wanted a place and the faster the better.” Pepper said.

Tony grinned, measuring and pouring in the milk and oil as he listened.

“I told him what we were looking for and he said he already had a few places he thought might be perfect off the top of his head.”

“That’s great.” Tony held his phone between his head and neck as he cracked the eggs in and started mixing.

“He’s going to line things up so we can look on Tuesday. I didn’t say anything about you since the announcement hasn’t been made yet, and I’m guessing you’re going to want to push it back now with everything that’s happening with Peter, but we should try to ease Jake into it so he doesn’t have a heart attack when you show up with me. And he’ll have to sign an NDA.”

“Definitely.” Tony nodded along even though she couldn’t see.

“Anyway, I said we wanted to find a place and make a decision by the end of the day if possible on Tuesday.” Pepper continued. “He’s going to set everything up. He thought we’d be able to close on something as early as the end of the week.”

“Perfect. You’re amazing, you know that?”

“So you say.” Pepper laughed.

“No really. I married the perfect woman.”

“I love you too.” Pepper said. “But I have to go. We’re at the American Girl store. Wish me luck.”

Tony made a sound of sympathy before offering, “Good luck.”

“I’ll see in a little bit.” Pepper said.

“Love you Pep. Bye.”

“Bye.” She hung up and he took advantage of having two free hands to put the bacon and hashbrowns in a pan and then poured the batter for a couple pancakes in another pan. As he watched it cook, he pulled up May’s number and called her. He wanted to talk to her before the smell of breakfast woke Peter up.

She picked up on the first ring. “Tony? How are things going?”

“Um things are…fine.” He winced. That had been less than convincing.

“You don’t seem so sure about that.” May called him out on it. “Is everything all right? How’s Peter?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to lie because things definitely weren’t all right, but he wanted to ease into it with a little finesse.

“He’s sleeping.” He answered.

“Still?” May sounded surprised. “Did he sleep the whole night?”

“No. He had a nightmare, but I managed to get him back to sleep.” He flipped the pancakes.

“And he actually went back to sleep? Usually he kicks me out and I’m pretty sure he stares at the ceiling for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah I stayed with him. He slept.”

May sighed. “Good. Thank you.”

“Listen, May.” He turned the bacon and stirred the hashbrowns as he tried to figure out how to word what he wanted to say.

“I’m listening.” She prompted.

“Pepper and I have decided to move back to the city. And I could give you a whole spiel about how it’s because the commute’s too long and we think Morgan needs more culture in her life or whatever, but we both know it’d be bullshit. We’re moving back for Peter. I need to be closer to Peter.” He said the last part with determination in case May decided to argue.

“I think that’s a great idea.” May didn’t argue. She almost seemed relieved. “I would never ask that of you, but I think that being closer to you might be what Peter needs to start to heal and move on from all of this.”

“Yeah. Actually, when I talked to him last night, he told me that’s what his nightmares have been about. Me um…dying. He said it helped that I was there when he woke up. I uh-I offered to let him stay with me when we move back to the city if that would help, so I could be there when he woke up. He said he wanted to, but I don’t want to step on any toes here. If you don’t want him to-if you’d rather he stayed with you—” He rambled.

“No Tony.” May interrupted him. “That’s-that’s fine. I haven’t been able to help him no matter what I’ve tried. I only want what’s best for him. And if that’s what he thinks will help then of course he can stay with you.”

Even though she easily agreed, she sounded sad.

“It wouldn’t be forever.” He tried to reassure her. “Just until we get these nightmares under control and he can sleep again. Who knows? Maybe it’ll only be for a week.”

“I think that’s a little optimistic.” She said, but he could hear some humor returning to her tone.

“You never know.” He shrugged and put the cooked pancakes on a plate and poured more batter into the pan.

She chuckled and he hated having to break her good mood, but he had to.

“There’s something else I need to talk to you about.” He said.

She must’ve sensed the seriousness of his tone because he could hear her worry when she asked, “What?”

“I think Peter’s depressed.” He said, not even attempting to cushion the reveal.

There was a long pause of silence before May quietly admitted, “I’ve been starting to wonder about that too.”

“We um talked about it a little bit yesterday.” Tony elaborated. “He agreed to see a therapist. And a psychiatrist.”

“You think it’s that bad?”

“I do.” He mentally debated telling her about the suit footage but held back. He settled on telling her a less worrying version. “I reviewed some of the suit logs from when I was gone and reckless doesn’t even come close to describing some of the things I saw. I’m worried about him.”

May sighed audibly over the phone. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was too. And…I trust you Tony. If that’s what you think he needs, then you know I’ll back you.”

“It’s what he needs May.” He said decisively as he put the bacon on a plate.

She huffed out another sad breath air. “Ok.”

“And uh, one other thing.” He said. “I want to pull him out of school for the week.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.” May argued. “Won’t it only make things worse?”

“I don’t think so. I think…I think he’s only starting to process things, and I want him to start daily therapy, at least at first, and speaking from personal experience digging up issues is not the most pleasant experience. The last thing he needs on top of all that is the stress of school.”

“I don’t know Tony.” May hedged. “I mean I know he already got into MIT but that doesn’t mean he can just drop out. He has to finish high school.”

“And he will. I’m not saying he’s not going back. I’m saying let’s take it one week at a time. Maybe he’ll only need this one week. Or maybe it’ll be two or three or four. I don’t know. I’m going to go with what the professionals suggest. Until then, we can tell his school he needs medical leave, that he got in a car accident or something, and have them send his homework over so he can work on it. That way he won’t fall behind.”

“You really think it’s necessary?”

“Yes. Trust me May, if you’d seen what I saw, we wouldn’t be arguing about this.”

“Ok. Fine. I’ll call his school on Monday.” May agreed but he could tell she only did so begrudgingly.

“May, he needs some help and that’s what we’re going to do. I don’t want to waste any time or-or take any chances, not when it comes to him. I’m going to set him up to meet with the psychiatrist and therapist on Monday. And we’ll see what they say. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m overreacting. But I’d rather err on the side of caution with this. With Peter.” Plus, he had a bad feeling he wasn’t wrong.

“Ok.”

“And…” He took a breath and bolstered on. “I want to keep him with me. He needs some real sleep and as much as I’d like to just move to the city tomorrow, I can’t. The good news is Pepper thinks we might be able to make it happen by the end of the week.”

“That soon?”

“Yeah.

May sighed heavily. “Ok Tony. I can’t say I love all of this, but like I said, I trust you and I just want to do whatever will make him happy again. Maybe that’s spending more time with you. I’ve had him all to myself for the last six months, so I guess I can let you have your turn, especially if you think it’ll help him.”

“I do. Thank you May.” He said, more than grateful that she was letting him call the shots.

“But you have to promise to have him call me. I don’t want radio silence from him the whole time he’s there.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to remind him, but I will if I need to.” Tony agreed.

“Ok and you have to call me too. I want to be in the loop Stark. Let me know what the therapist and the psychiatrist say.”

“You know I will.”

“Ok then. You have my blessing.”

“Boss, Peter is awake.” FRIDAY announced.

“I have to go May. Peter just woke up.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You will.”

“And…thank you Tony.” She said, always appreciative.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He shook his head and flipped the pancakes.

“Well thank you anyway. You helping out with Peter, caring about him, it-it means a lot. Not just to him, but to me too.”

“It’s my pleasure. Really. He’s-he’s my kid.” He hoped that wasn’t overstepping.

“I know.” He could tell she was smiling. “Good bye Tony.”

“Bye May.” He hung up and plated the hashbrowns.

“Fri tell the kid I’m down here and breakfast is almost ready.”

“Already done Boss.” FRIDAY responded.

He lifted the pancakes with a spatula and added them to the stack of the ones already done before pouring more batter in.

He was in the midst of cracking eggs into a pan when he heard Peter’s footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m in the kitchen kid. I hope you’re hungry.” He called out to him.

“Wow.” Peter said once he came into sight. “Since when do you cook?”

Tony smirked. “Since I retired to become a stay at home dad for Morgan. You joke kid, but the one thing I am good at is breakfast food.”

Peter smiled and took a seat on a stool at the counter to watch him.

“Business must’ve been really bad if you couldn’t hire someone to cook for you.” The kid jested.

Tony laughed. “You know I don’t let just anyone in my house.”

“I know.” Peter said, turning quiet and serious, instead of continuing the lighthearted conversation.

Tony took a break from cooking to walk around the kitchen island to Peter to place a kiss on the top of his head and ruffle his hair.

“Tony.” Peter complained and tried to straighten his locks.

Tony went back to the stove in time to flip the pancakes again and then the eggs.

“Help yourself kiddo.” He indicated the plates of food already on the counter.

“Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Really. Thanks.” Peter said and Tony could tell he meant he was grateful for more than just the food. Tony had a lot of Parkers thanking him this morning

He turned back around to give Peter a sincere smile. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I know but I want to. It’s called having manners. You should try it sometime.”

“Sassy this morning.” He said and then nudged the plates of food toward him. “Well you’re welcome. You know how you can really thank me? By eating.”

Peter rolled his eyes but grabbed an empty plate and started dishing up food.

“You want toast kid?” He asked as soon as Peter had started eating.

“Um yeah toast would be great.” Peter said, barely discernible, through a mouth full of food.

Tony put the cooked eggs on another plate in front of Peter and added more pancakes to the finished stack before moving to the toaster to put slices of bread in it.

While he finished cooking the last of the pancake batter, Peter kept shoveling food into his mouth. It struck him suddenly as such an oddly domestic scene. Something he never thought he’d get with Peter. Something he would’ve missed out on if it hadn’t been for Peter.

The toaster popped and interrupted his train of thought. He buttered the toast and put it on a smaller plate in front of Peter.

“Thanks.” Peter mumbled, mouth still full.

“You’re welcome.” Tony smirked. He was glad the nightmare last night hadn’t ruined the kid’s appetite.

He flipped the pancakes and while he waited for them to finish cooking he watched Peter out of the side of his vision.

Sometimes he still couldn’t quite believe the kid was back. That he was here. This new arrangement with Peter staying with him would be helping more than just Peter.

He scooped the last two pancakes off the pan and onto his own plate. He piled it with more food, although a lot less than Peter’s plate, and sat down on the stool next to his kid.

They ate together in comfortable silence. With his smaller plate, Tony finished way before Peter. By the time finally Peter declared he was full, Tony had almost finished cleaning up the entire kitchen. He was happy to see Peter was back to eating a healthy amount of food again.

His kid with the superhuman metabolism.

His kid who had saved him.

Now it was Tony’s turn.

“Are we going to talk about last night?” Tony asked lightly as he plucked Peter’s empty plate from him and put it in the dishwasher.

Peter winced and looked away as he answered, “No?”

Tony made a buzzer noise and said, “Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Where are Morgan and Pepper?” Peter frowned and glanced around, pretending to notice their absence for the first time, but Tony recognized it for what it was, a distraction ploy.

“In the city having a girl’s morning.” Tony answered. “Good try on the deflection, though, but it’s not going to work. We have to talk.”

Peter groaned and got off the stool and started walking away. “I don’t want to talk. We already talked last night. And yesterday. So much talking. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow and trailed behind the kid. He hadn’t heard him sound so young in a long time and the fact that he was literally trying to walk away from a conversation was endearingly juvenile. As the cherry on top, Peter threw himself facedown onto the sofa in a dramatic teenage fashion.

“Well I want to talk.” Tony said, trying not to let his amusement at the antics show as he crossed his arms and stood over his kid.

Peter honest to god whined into the throw pillow.

“Peter.” Tony said, switching to his ‘dad voice’, the one he used on Morgan when she wasn’t listening.

Shockingly, it worked. Peter groaned again but rolled onto his back so at least he was looking at him.

“We don’t have to talk about last night right now if you really don’t want to.”

“I don’t.” Peter confirmed quickly.

“But we do need to talk about some things.”

“What things?”

“The plan for next week.”

Peter frowned.

“I’m going to have you meet with the therapist and the psychiatrist on Monday.” Tony told him.

“I thought the wait list for that was like months long.”

“Not when you’re me.”

“Right. I forgot.” Peter rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Still, I don’t see what the big rush is.”

“Really? You don’t?” Tony softened the harshness of the words by quirking an eyebrow as he sat down on edge of the couch so he wasn’t towering over the kid.

Peter shrugged and toyed with a loose string on the hem of his shirt.

“So when am I meeting with them? After school?” He finally broke the silence to ask.

“No. Monday morning.”

“But I have school.” Peter looked up at him with a frown.

“I’m pulling you out of school.”

“For the morning?”

“For the week.”

“What?” Peter asked in shock, sitting up.

“You’re not going to school next week. Maybe longer. We’ll see.”

“You can’t do that!” Peter protested.

“Yes I can. I did. It’s done.” He said simply, not raising his voice to match Peter’s.

“May will never—”

“I already talked to May and she agreed with me.” He interrupted. “She’s letting me call the shots on this.”

Tony watched as a myriad of emotions crossed Peter’s face. Shock. Confusion. Betrayal. Anger.

“That’s not fair.” Peter argued. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine kid.” He tried to reach a hand out to Peter’s shoulder but the kid scooted away from him.

“I’m fine enough to go to school.”

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d had a feeling this was going to be a fight but it still sucked having to participate in it. “We’ll see what the therapist says.”

“If you won’t let me go to school, then I’m not going to talk to them.” Peter threatened stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tony took a second to be impressed. He hadn’t seen that coming.

He shrugged, playing it off as nonchalant, as he called the kid’s bluff. “Fine. Then it’ll be a lot longer than a week, because you’re not going back until you get the all clear from them.”

Peter practically growled in frustration. “That’s ridiculous. You’re completely overreacting! I can’t believe May agreed to this. I want to talk to her.”

“Fine.” Tony said reasonably. “Call her.”

Peter’s face scrunched up, obviously realizing Tony wasn’t lying and May must really be in on it too.

“I can’t believe the two of you are ganging up on me.” Peter complained.

“We’re not ganging up on you.” Tony closed the distance Peter had put between them.

“Yes you are!” Peter threw his arms out in frustration, gesturing wildly. “I need to go to school. I already missed my Spanish quiz Friday. I can’t miss a whole week! I’ll fall so far behind. I’ll-I’ll never be able to catch up.”

“Hey. Hey.” Tony said, reaching out to grab Peter’s wrists with his hands. “Calm down. It’s going to be ok. May’s going to call your school on Monday and we’ll get your work sent out here. You’re not going to fall behind.”

Peter blinked, took a couple breaths as he took in Tony’s words. “She is?”

“Yeah kid.” Tony nodded.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say that?”

“I was getting to it.”

Peter’s eyebrows knitted, and Tony could see the anxiety on his face. “Um what is she telling the school about why I’m gone? Not that-that I’m crazy right?”

“No. She’s going to tell them you got in a car accident and you need some time to recover.” Tony answered and squeezed Peter’s wrists. “And you’re not crazy.”

“You must think I’m at least a little crazy if you’re pulling me out of school to make me see a therapist and a psychiatrist.” Peter tried to give him a grin but it pulled funny on his face and ended up coming out as more of a grimace.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Tony said, looking Peter in the eyes. “I think you’ve had a really rough time recently and you need a little extra support right now. And I’m here to make sure you get that. To make sure you get what you need to get better. Ok?”

“Yeah ok.” Peter sighed.

“And hey, you get spend the whole week with me, so there’s that.” Tony smiled.

“I do?”

“Yeah. May’s working. What? You thought I’d pull you out of school just to make you sit in an empty apartment all day?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Well you’re staying with me. And it’s going to be a good week. Ok?”

Tony could sense Peter’s uncertainty, but the kid nodded and agreed. “Ok.”

Chapter Text

Peter wouldn’t exactly call the week trapped in the lake house while being forced to talk to about his feelings every day, a good week. Sure, he got to spend a lot of time with Tony, but it was overshadowed by his bad mood about therapy. Talking about his emotions and digging up stuff he’d tried to bury, left him constantly drained and raw, and lacking his usual patience. He’d definitely snapped at Tony more than a couple times, something he never would’ve dreamed of doing before. Tony, to his credit, took it all in stride. He somehow seemed to have a sixth sense about when to push and when to give him space.

Right now he seemed to be giving him some space. Peter had finished his hour long session with Ruth this morning and instead of seeking Tony out, he’d gone straight to his room and thrown himself onto his bed. It’d been a particularly rough session. It was only his fifth time meeting with her, but her questions and their discussions had gotten progressively tougher throughout the week. He thought he’d at least get the weekend off to take a break, but at the end of their session he’d found out that Ruth was coming back tomorrow even though it was Saturday.

Between the continued nightmares, the exhausting mandatory therapy sessions and the weakness he felt every time he swallowed the antidepressant the psychiatrist had prescribed after meeting with him, which Tony and Bruce had needed to specially formulate for his metabolism, Peter just wanted a break from it all. He wanted a weekend to not have to analyze his actions or think about his stupid feelings. He shoved his head into his pillow and tried not to cry.

A rap of knuckles on his bedroom door came a short while later.

“Hey Pete.” Tony’s voice carried softly through the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” He said into his pillow, but loud enough for Tony to hear.

The door cracked open and Peter heard Tony walk over to his side and sit on the edge of the bed. He rested a hand on his back a second later.

“I just got done talking to Ruth. She told me you had kind of a hard time this morning.”

He shrugged. He didn’t trust his voice not to give him away if he tried to talk.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tony asked, hand rubbing circles over his back. It just made him want to cry more.

He shook his head. He was so sick of talking.

“Ok. Is it all right if I sit with you?”

He nodded.

Another couple of minutes passed in silence.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Tony asked again.

He nodded.

“Can I talk?”

He nodded again, face still stubbornly smooshed into his pillow.

“Ok. So I have some good news and some bad news. What do you want to hear first?”

“Good news.” He mumbled.

“Pepper and I signed the paperwork for the new apartment in New York this morning, so we’re moving this weekend.” Tony said. That’d been fast. Peter had heard them discussing things throughout the week and Happy had kept him company when Tony had needed to leave a couple times to go to New York, but he hadn’t known they’d actually picked a place. Or that you could actually buy something and move in that quickly. Must be a perk of being a billionaire.

“You’re going to love it.” Tony said, and Peter could hear the smile in his voice. He was sure he would.

“What’s the bad news?” He asked.

Tony sighed. “Ruth thinks you should take one more week off of school.”

Peter pushed up off the pillow and gave Tony a look of utter betrayal. “No.”

“Pete—”

“No no no. I need to go back to school. I-I can’t keep doing this. I’m so tired of it. It’s not helping. I just want to get back to normal.” He pleaded. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Please Tony.”

Tony pulled him against his chest as he shushed him. “Shh kid. It’s all right.”

Peter tried to hold back his small hiccupping sobs. “But I don’t want to. I don’t want to. Please. I want to go back to school.”

“I know, but it’s only one more week.”

“I can’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t. It’s not even helping.”

“Yes it is buddy. I know it might not feel like it right now, but it is.”

“No it’s not. It’s not. It’s making everything so much worse.” He denied frantically, but he knew Tony didn’t believe him.

“Shh. Take a breath for me.”

Peter managed to calm down somewhat. Once he had, Tony kissed the top of his head.

“I know it’s been hard but I’m proud of you.” Tony told him. “And I understand you want to go back to school, but Ruth thinks we should give it one more week.”

Before Peter could protest again, he added, “And I do too. This is hard and it’s stressful and trying to concentrate and do well in school while stirring up all this stuff isn’t setting yourself up for success, and that isn’t fair to you. Ok?”

Peter didn’t like it, but he sniffled and nodded. What Tony said was true. He really couldn’t imagine trying to pay attention in school while he felt like this.

“Good boy.” Tony mumbled and pressed a kiss against his hair. From anyone else that kind of phrase would’ve pissed him off, but Tony said it with such endearment that he couldn’t even muster annoyance.

He shut his eyes and held Tony. He just wanted to be back to normal and he didn’t understand why it was so hard to get there. Or why he had to suffer by dredging up things like his loss of the last five years along with things that seemed completely unrelated, but equally painful, like the loss of his parents and Ben’s death. But since he didn’t know how to voice all these thoughts to Tony, he could barely do it with the therapist, he just held him. And hoped things would start to get better.

“FRIDAY pull up my suit footage from the final battle with Thanos.” Tony instructed. Pepper, Morgan, and Peter were all asleep, but he hadn’t been able to achieve rest himself, so he’d gone down to the workshop and finally decided to do what he’d been putting off.

“FRIDAY.” He said again when nothing happened.

“Are you sure Boss?” She asked hesitantly.

“Yes. Pull it up.” He said even though he was anything but sure. There was a reason he hadn’t watched the recording of his own death. The idea of it made him anxious. Afterall, who would ever want to be glaringly confronted with their own mortality like that? And even though he knew he wasn’t dead, he was fine, Peter had prevented his death, another him hadn’t been so lucky. But if Peter was still struggling because of it then he owed it to him to view it, especially after what Ruth had shared with him that morning.

“Dr. Cohen is requesting to speak with you Boss.” FRIDAY said, interrupting his work on the hologram screen in front of him.

“Ok.” He frowned and stood. “Tell her I’ll be right there.”

It wasn’t an unusual request, but usually they touched base over brief phone conversations instead of face to face. He climbed up the stairs to the main floor above.

“Ruth.” He greeted Ruth as he walked into the living room. "You wanted to talk to me?"

“Yes. I'm sorry to bother you Mr. Stark.” She said while she finished putting her things away in her satchel.

“It’s no problem.”

“Before I left, I just wanted to let you know that this morning’s session was particularly hard on Peter today. We talked about his uncle’s death and…yours. You might want to check in on him.” Ruth advised.

Tony sucked in a breath. “Ok. I will.”

She nodded and started to walk out.

“Um before you go. One question.” Tony spoke up, wanting to ask something he’d been wondering about. “His nightmares? Have you two talked about them? He said they’re about my death.”

Ruth nodded. “We have. Your loss was very difficult for him. Understandably so. And I don’t pretend to comprehend how you’re back with us Mr. Stark, but what you have to understand is that what Peter witnessed was very traumatic. When viewed in the perspective of his past losses, it just makes it that much worse.”

Tony pulled his glasses off to rub at his suddenly aching eyes. Right. Peter had lost his parents, then he’d lost his uncle who was as good as a father to him, and then Tony. And Tony liked to think they had a sort of father-son relationship.

“He witnessed his uncle’s death.” Ruth added. “Did you know that?”

Tony snapped his head up, answer clear on his face. He hadn’t. He’d known Peter’s uncle had died, had been shot, and that was part of the motivation behind why the kid had done what he had with Spiderman, but he hadn’t known the details. Peter rarely mentioned Ben, and Tony had never pushed. He’d allowed the paucity of details surrounding the event, and Ben in general, since he’d known the loss was still too fresh and too painful for Peter.

“He watched his uncle die in front of him and then he had to go through a similar experience with you. Both deaths were very violent. Very gruesome. From what I’ve been told.” Ruth explained. “It’s no wonder he’s having a hard time. Having nightmares about it.”

“Jesus.” He stabbed at his eyes again, but for a different reason this time. He’d never meant to make his kid go through that. He’d give anything to take it back.

“I don’t…remember.” Tony said when he caught Ruth watching him expectantly. Even though she was on the Avengers payroll, he couldn’t explain how he’d gone from dead as a doornail to alive and standing in front of her. He could only imagine the kind of chaos that would erupt if the general public found out it was possible to go back in time and bring a dead loved one forward and essentially resurrect them.

“It’s…surprising to me that before me, he’d never talked to anyone about his uncle’s death, given how traumatic it was for him.” Ruth said. “Instead of dealing with it, he buried it deep down and distracted himself with Spiderman and somehow managed to continue on. Most people wouldn’t have been able to do that. He’s a very resilient kid.”

“He is.” Tony agreed. The kid was the strongest person he’d ever met and that was saying something since he personally knew all the Avengers.

“But a mind can only take so much before it can’t cope anymore.” Ruth said softly. “And I think your death was that point.”

“I never wanted to leave him.” He explained softly.

“I know.” Ruth said and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I did all of it for him.”

That earned a quirk of Ruth’s lips.

“I mean I know I’m supposed to say I did it for the good of the world and everything, but…I didn’t. I did it for him.” He probably shouldn’t admit that but the words just flowed out.

“Understandable.” Ruth nodded. “He’s your son. And there’s no greater loss than the loss of a child. And you found a way to fix that.”

Tony sighed. “It was all for him, but now he’s…”

Ruth patted his shoulder to placatingly. “He’ll be ok.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he has you. And he has an aunt that loves him. And he has your wife and your daughter. And many others from what I hear. An entire support network of people that care about him.”

Tony nodded.

“That’s what he needs. For all of you to be there for him, supporting him. And time. He just needs some time to heal.”

“Ok. I can do that. We can do that.”

“I know.” Ruth graced him with a smile. “He’ll get through it and be all the better for it.”

“Thank you.” Tony said.

She gave him a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye doc.” He said and watched her walk out.

He stood in the center of the living room, staring at the wall and gave himself exactly five minutes to deal with his own maelstrom of emotions before he got himself back under control and walked upstairs to be with his kid.

The words Ruth had used to describe his death, violent and gruesome, echoed in his mind as FRIDAY started projecting the scene of the final battle in front of him. He clenched his jaw and watched. He owed it to Peter to see what he’d seen, to be able to better understand what his kid was struggling with. And he owed it to Pepper and Rhodey and everyone else that had been there and suffered watching him die.

On the screen he watched as he fought with Thanos. He remembered this part. It was right before Peter had appeared out of nowhere and whisked him away to bring him forward in time. As he kept watching, he recognized the exact moment Peter had intervened. Everything after it was new. He had no memory of it. It hadn’t happened to him. To this him.

He watched with bated breath as he kept fighting Thanos. It wasn’t going well. The titan took out Steve and Thor and then Captain Marvel. All he could think was where was everyone else? Wanda? Strange? Anyone else that could’ve helped? But no one else showed up. And then it was only him and the ugly oversized grape.

He watched as he fell to the ground and caught Dr. Strange’s eye from across the battlefield. The man shakily raised a single finger. One. The one they win. And he knew what it meant, just like the other Tony on the video must have. It was up to him. He knew what he had to do.

He and Thanos fought viciously. Thanos finally got ahold of the gauntlet and Tony wrestled with it, but on the screen he appeared to lose as he was flung backward.

“I…am…inevitable.” The asshole spoke, voice sending shivers down Tony’s spine as he watched with wide eyes as Thanos snapped the gauntlet. But…nothing happened.

He frowned and then he was staring at himself as he revealed the stones he’d swiped from the gauntlet with his nanotech. He watched as he fell to his knees and threw his head back as the power coursed through him. The intensity of his eyes, the victory, the despair, made him clench his jaw tight. He wanted to look away, but he didn’t.

“And I…am…Ironman.” His voice said. Tony watched as he closed his eyes on the screen and snapped.

If he thought it was hard to watch that, the rest was worse.

After he’d somehow lowered himself to the ground, Rhodey got to him first. God. Rhodey. His best friend. And he was so hurt he couldn’t even speak. He sat against the rubble and stared, there but not really there. His entire right side including his face was darkened, charred from the force of wielding the stones. Snapping the gauntlet had hurt the Hulk, so of course it’d irreparably damaged him. Tony didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of that before. When he’d been told he’d snapped, he kind of assumed it’d been instant death. Or maybe there hadn’t even been a body to recover, but on the screen, he was still alive, but dying.

Peter was next. Peter. His kid. The devastation in his eyes as he tried to comfort him even as he cried, crushed his heart. Peter had lived this. And even though this series of events hadn’t come to pass now because of Peter, the memories of it hadn’t been erased from his kid’s head. Or Rhodey’s. Or Pepper’s. Anyone’s.

Pepper. She was last. A part of him was terribly glad he got to be with her at the end no matter how much it had probably hurt her.

She knelt down and whispered, “Hey.”

“Hey Pep.” He somehow managed to whisper back. It was right that his last word was her name.

She touched his chest. “FRIDAY?”

“Life functions critical.” FRIDAY reported sadly.

“Tony. Look at me.” She ordered. His eyes tried to follow the command, but he could tell he was fading fast.

“We’re going to be ok.” She reassured, looking so strong. “You can rest now.”

His head sagged to the side, and in the next few seconds he watched the light leave his own eyes as he let go and faded away. The recording didn’t stop when he died. He watched Pepper kiss his cheek and lose all her composure as she laid her head on his chest and sobbed. Behind her, Peter and Rhodey cried. And as everyone else, including the rest of the Avengers, came over and realized what happened, they each hit their knees one by one, grief apparent on all their faces.

“Off FRIDAY.” His voice came out so strangled it was incomprehensible. He swallowed down his all encompassing grief and ordered hoarsely, “Turn it off.”

The video screen blinked to black.

He’d died. And even though he’d saved the universe, he’d hurt so many people he loved by leaving them behind. He struggled to process it. He’d died…but at the same time he hadn’t. Because of Peter. His insanely amazing kid. He’d been given a second chance. He wasn’t going to waste it.

“Mr. Parker we need a decision on this now.” The man at the head of the table said, obviously frustrated with him.

“What?” Peter frowned. He sat on the opposite end of the long conference table. Both sides of it were filled with men in business suits, all staring at him.

“We need an answer on this.” The man stated and pointed to the PowerPoint slide on the screen projected behind him.

“Um…” Peter blinked and tried to squint to see the screen, but all the letters and figures on it were too blurry. “I can’t… I can’t read it.”

“Why don’t you try putting on your glasses.” A man to his right said, not very kindly, as he indicated a glasses case sitting on the table in front of Peter.

But he didn’t wear glasses. He hadn’t needed to since the spider bite. But then why couldn’t he see the screen a mere twenty feet away from him?

“Right.” He mumbled as he picked up the case and opened it. Instead of his usual dorky glasses, it held a pair of Tony’s tech glasses.

He shook his head. “These aren’t mine. These are Tony’s.”

The man to his right scoffed. “They’re yours now. Tony’s dead, kid. Or did you forget? I don’t see how you could have since he left you everything.”

Peter looked up in shock. He could read the board now even without the glasses. It was a Stark Industries proposal.

“Can you put the stupid glasses on so we can get an answer already Parker? Or just let us decide. That’d probably be for the best since you’ve been doing such a bang up job of running this company.” The man scowled.

“Yeah, right into the ground.” Another man mumbled.

“I-I-” Peter didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what the question was or what decision he had to make. He could read the slide in front of him, but he couldn’t make any sense of it.

He abruptly stood from the cushioned rolling chair and glanced down. He was wearing a business suit just like everyone else in the room. They all stared at him, expectant but annoyed looks on their faces. Why was he here? He couldn’t do this. He turned and ran.

Their voices followed him out into the hallway.

“Where’s he going?”

“What the hell?”

“He’s no Tony Stark.”

That one hurt. No, he wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. Why had Tony ever thought he could do this? Why had Tony left him? He sprinted down the hallway. He needed to get out. He needed to escape. He needed to find…Pepper, or May, or Happy, or someone to help him.

He turned to look behind him to see if anyone had followed him. No one had. But as he did, his feet somehow got tangled together and he crashed shoulder first onto the carpet.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the office anymore. He was lying curled up on his side on the dirt ground. Aliens and madness flew all around him. He held the gauntlet desperately close to his chest. He needed to get it somewhere. Or he was supposed to give it to someone? To-to Captain Marvel. But she wasn’t hovering above him like he’d been expecting her to be for some reason. Instead, Tony stood there in his Ironman armor, helmet retracted. Peter could see the line of blood trailing down the ride side of his face.

“Hey kid.” Tony said, tilting his head and giving him a soft smile.

“Hey.” He said back weakly.

“You got something for me?” Tony asked, giving a small nod toward the gauntlet in Peter’s arms.

But for some reason, Peter didn’t want to give it to him, which was crazy because he trusted Tony more than anyone. Especially when it came to stuff like this. Superhero stuff.

“Pete.” Tony said, voice still soft, and it was just the two of them even though it seemed like chaos was literally unfolding all around them. “Give me the gauntlet.”

He knew he shouldn’t give it Tony, but he couldn’t remember why, just that the very idea felt viscerally wrong. But this was Tony. Ironman. Peter wasn’t going to refuse him. He uncurled his arms from it and held it out.

Tony took it from him. “Good work kid. Now leave the rest to me.”

Tony took several steps back, but he didn’t run with the gauntlet like Peter had expected. Peter frowned and then watched in frozen horror as Tony placed it on his right hand.

“No!” Peter yelled and thrust an arm out toward him as if he could stop him by that alone. But it was already too late. The power of the stones coursed up Tony’s arm, igniting it in majestically terrible colors.

“It’s going to be ok kid.” Tony told him with a calm serenity.

“Don’t!” Peter screamed and tried to jump to his feet, but he couldn’t get up. It was like he was pinned to the ground. All his strength had left him. He could only watch as Tony closed his eyes and snapped his fingers.

His vision erupted in a flash of light. He tried to shield his eyes with his arms. When everything faded back to normal, Peter opened his eyes. Tony sat slumped on the ground a few feet away, his entire right sided burned and blackened, including the armor.

“No.” Peter whispered hoarsely. Even though he barely felt connected to his body, he managed to get to his hands and knees and crawl to his mentor.

“Tony.” He said, cupping a hand over the man’s unmarred left cheek. “Tony?”

But Tony didn’t respond, he just stared back at him, and Peter could mark the moment all the intelligence faded from his gaze.

“No.” He cried. “Tony please. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Peter shook his shoulder but all it did was jostle him. His empty expression remained unchanged. It didn’t bring him back to life.

“No. Please.” He begged. “Please don’t leave me. Tony.”

“Pete!” Tony’s voice shattered the dream and brought him back awake. “Peter!”

Tony sat on the bed, hands shaking Peter’s shoulders.

“I’m right here.” Tony said, and Peter couldn’t quite catch up. Of course he was. He could see him.

“You were calling for me in your sleep.” Tony explained. Oh. He remembered.

“You-you left me.” He said through jerky breaths. He only meant to explain the nightmare, but saying it out loud brought with it an excess of hurt he’d been harboring. Because it was true. Tony had left him. He’d chosen to snap the gauntlet. He’d known what it would mean. Maybe in the moment he hadn’t thought about how he’d be leaving everyone that loved him behind, leaving Peter behind, but it had happened all the same.

“I’m sorry.” Tony whispered.

“You left me.” He sobbed. “You left me.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tony said as he pulled him into his arms.

Peter wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug as he tried to calm down.

“I didn’t want to leave you.” Tony whispered into his curls.

“How do you know? You didn’t— You weren’t the one who—” The one who snapped, Peter omitted.

“I know. Because I didn’t get a chance to do it before you saved me. But kid, I know there’s no way I’d ever willingly leave you. No matter what. Especially after I just got you back.”

Then why’d you do it? Peter wanted to ask, but this Tony hadn’t actually done it, so he couldn’t do anything except guess the answer, which Peter could do just as well. He’d done it because he’d had no other choice. Because everyone would’ve died otherwise. He’d sacrificed everything to save the universe. Because he was a hero.

Peter concentrated on the sound of Tony’s heartbeat under his ear and focused on the fact that Tony was warm, and breathing, and alive. After a couple minutes, his tears slowed to a halt.

“You-you left me your company. Why did you do that?” Peter asked because that part of the dream had bothered him almost as much. And it was a question this Tony could actually answer since he must’ve made the arrangements before the final battle with Thanos.

Tony pulled back so he could look down into his face as he asked, “Why do you think Pete?”

He shrugged. “Because you think I’m smart?”

Tony scoffed. “No. I know plenty of smart people. I wouldn’t leave them the majority of the shares in my company. And saying you’re smart is definitely an understatement.”

Tony pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Then why?”

“Because you’re my kid.”

“Morgan’s more your kid.”

“No.” Tony said and shook his head. “I love you both the same.”

“Not to mention at the time she was four.” Tony kept talking as if he hadn’t just dropped a major bombshell on him. “And we don’t even know if she’s going to end up liking science. Or wanting to follow in my footsteps. But you kiddo. You’re the real deal. You’re like a shinier improved version of me. Better moral compass definitely.”

Peter twisted his face at that. He didn’t think that was true. Tony always saw himself in the worst possible way.

“Say Morgan had grown up and wanted to help run the company. What would you have done?” Tony asked.

“Let her, of course. What kind of question is that?”

“Just proving my point.” Tony said with a smile. “Why would I ever need to worry about Morgan with you at the helm? You’re the best person I know, and I know Captain America.”

Peter blushed and ducked his head.

“You’re just genuinely good. Even a little too good sometimes.” Tony paused to fondly brush back his hair before continuing, "You were the right choice Pete. The only choice. I’ve second guessed myself on almost everything I’ve done, but the one thing I’ve never second guessed is picking you. As Spiderman. As my intern. As my kid. As my successor.”

Peter’s eyes filled with tears.

“It was always going to be you.” Tony looked at him, eyes soft as he cupped Peter’s face in his hands. “It still is.”

Peter shocked eyes flew to Tony’s. “What?”

Tony grinned and let go of his face.

“How else are you going to put that MIT education that I’m paying for to good use?”

“What? Tony you’re not paying for—”

“And let’s just table that pointless little argument for later.” Tony interrupted. “So we don’t get sidetracked.”

Peter blinked and tried to refocus, although they’d definitely be revisiting the idea of Tony paying for his schooling. “You really want me to take over SI for you?”

“Well not now obviously. You’re only a kid. You’ve got to grow up first.” Tony tousled his hair with a smile.

“But I’m not you. I’m no Tony Stark.” Peter gave voice to the anxiety from his dream.

“No, you’re not,” Tony agreed before he declared, “You’re better.”

Peter shook his head. He didn’t agree. No one was better than Tony.

“But…what if-what if I’m not good enough?”

“You will be.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know,” Tony said and then added, “And you won’t be alone. Pepper will help you. And I’ll help you.”

Peter fell forward to wrap Tony in another hug. Tony returned the embrace and kissed the top of his head again before whispering, “You know I’ll always help you.”

“Please don’t leave me again.” Peter pleaded.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

“And we have amazing news this morning, although you might’ve already heard it since it’s all anyone has been talking about ever since Pepper Potts—”

“Pepper Stark.” Tony mumbled the correction to himself as he sat on the couch, coffee in hand, watching the network newsperson speak.

“—CEO of Stark Industries, revealed in a press conference last night that Tony Stark is in fact alive. It bears repeating, so let me repeat it. Tony Stark, Ironman, the hero who orchestrated the return of all those who had been dusted, myself included, and subsequently prevented the world’s destruction—”

“The universe’s.” Tony corrected again. They really needed to check their facts.

“—is miraculously alive today after the world has spent the last seven months believing he was dead. As revealed at the press conference last night, Tony Stark had in fact been in a coma in Wakanda, thought unlikely to recover, until those assumptions were proven incorrect last week. Mr. Stark has in fact awoken and is currently at home recovering here in New York. No word yet on if or when he will be addressing the public. But I’m sure I speak for all of us here in New York and around the globe when I say, thank you Mr. Stark from the bottom of our hearts.”

Tony’s lip twisted in a part smile, part grimace. He always hated being thanked for things, especially when it was something he actually deserved to be thanked for. And he knew he should be thinking about when he was going to return to the public eye and give his own press conference, because he’d have to eventually, but right now all he could think about, could worry about, was his kid.

Peter had been making progress in therapy, at least according to his therapist. The kid himself remained completely mum when it came to the subject. He never talked to Tony about what they discussed in therapy even when Tony tried to gently prod. And even though he thought it might help the kid to share with him, he respected Peter’s wishes and his privacy. Well, Tony respected his privacy as much as he could, given that the therapist shared information with him and then he, in turn, shared it with May. He wasn’t quite sure if Peter knew that part or if he thought May and Tony were completely out of the loop, but he didn’t want to risk the possibility of rocking the boat to find out.

Tony sighed and checked his watch. It was almost ten in the morning. He glanced over his shoulder down the empty hallway. No sign of Peter. Tony was surprised he was still asleep. Pepper and Morgan had left hours ago, although they didn’t have to leave as early as they used to when they’d been commuting from the lake house. That was one thing Morgan loved about their new penthouse apartment. No long car rides. But it was one of only a few things. Leaving the solitude of the countryside had been a rougher adjustment for her than he and Pepper had anticipated, but they were making progress. Tony, for one, loved the new digs. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed living in the city until he was back.

And they had found the perfect place. The location was ideal and the layout was nearly a mirror image of their old penthouse at the top of Stark Tower except homier and sans bar. Peter had spent his first fifteen minutes in the apartment staring out the floor to ceiling windows at the city. Tony had almost forgotten that Peter had never been to the Tower before it’d been sold, and even though the compound had a nice view of nature, it was nothing compared to this.

The change in location had done nothing to stop Peter’s nightmares though. Whether at the lake house last week or here in the penthouse this week, Tony had spent every night in Peter’s room, comforting him from nightmares. He liked to think maybe they were getting less severe, but he was probably deluding himself. Still, Peter had to be doing somewhat better since his therapist had given him the ok to re-start school on Monday. Which meant Tony had five more full days with his kid. And he planned to take advantage of them. If his kid would ever wake up…

“Hey Tony.” Peter’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Speak of the devil.

“Hey kid.” He said back, craning his head around so he could see him. Peter still had his pajamas on and his hair was sleep mussed, but he looked well rested for once. Good.

“You hungry?” Tony asked as he turned off the TV and stood, planning to make his kid breakfast or lunch or whatever he wanted.

“Yeah but I just want some cereal.” Peter flashed him a smile.

“You sure? I can whip something up or we can order something. Whatever sounds good.”

“Cereal sounds good.” Peter said as he grabbed a box of Lucky Charms out of the pantry.

“You know there’s more sugar than nutrition in that, right?” Tony pointed to the box as he sat back down on the couch.

“Tastes better than the old man cereal you eat.” Peter said, pouring half the box into a mixing bowl.

“Hey who are you calling old? And oatmeal squares are not old man cereal.”

“Next thing you know you’ll be eating Grape Nuts.”

“What’s wrong with Grapes Nuts?”

“Oh god! You’re hopeless.” Peter said dramatically with a grin as he finished pouring milk over his cereal.

“Hmm, maybe, but keep it up and I’m going to buy only Grape Nuts from now on.” Tony teased.

“I have four words for you.” Peter glared. “Cruel and unusual punishment.”

“I prefer to call it creative.” Tony smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes as he crossed the distance between them and plopped down on the couch at Tony’s side.

“What were you watching?” Peter asked around a mouth full of cereal, nodding toward the now black TV screen.

“News drivel.”

“Anything good?”

“They’re celebrating the fact that reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.”

Peter huffed out a laugh. “That’s right. Pepper told everyone you’re alive last night.”

“She did.” Tony nodded and watched with a smirk as Peter continued to eat his cereal from the ridiculously oversized bowl in his lap.

“So…” Peter frowned and paused to finish chewing. “What’s the cover story again?”

“Um something about being in a coma in Wakanda that I somehow miraculously woke up from. Or whatever. I don’t know.” Tony waved a hand.

“Shouldn’t you probably know the details?” Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“I will when I have to. I’m sure I’ll have to do a press conference at some point, but since I’m still recovering,” Tony sank back further into the couch, “I get a temporary stay of execution. No public appearances for me in the near future.”

“I think it’ll probably be sooner than you think if Pepper has any say.” Peter joked.

“Maybe.” Tony scrunched his nose. “She did say something this morning about needing to get me out of the house because I was starting to get underfoot. But in my defense, this place is a little more cramped than the lake house.”

Peter snorted.

“Hopefully she'll be happier now that I finally got all the wiring done for the downstairs workshop last night.” Tony smiled. They not only had the entire top floor, they had the floor below it as well for Tony to use as his personal workshop, or as Pepper liked to call it, his tinker space.

“Awesome.” Peter said, smiling around a mouth full of Lucky Charms.

“Yep, so what do you say we head down there when you’re done with breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” Peter nodded and finished munching on the rest of his cereal in silence while Tony looked over a couple e-mails on his phone.

“Um actually there was something I wanted to run by you.” Peter said with a slight furrow of his brow once he swallowed his last bite.

“Ok. Hit me.” Tony said. He slid his phone back in his pocket and then frowned when Peter got up and started walking away toward the kitchen.

Tony automatically stood and followed. He waited, leaning against the kitchen countertop as Peter rinsed off the spoon and bowl before putting them in the dishwasher.

Peter turned and held his hands up, keeping the kitchen island between them as he said, “Ok so hear me out.”

“I’m already sensing I’m not going to like this.” He said, raising his eyebrows.

“Tony.” Peter gave him a frustrated look that was so uncannily similar to the ones Pepper gave him that he almost laughed. He and Pepper definitely hadn’t donated any genetic material to Peter like they had for Morgan, but they’d been parenting him all the same, and he’d been hanging around with them so much lately that it was starting to show. He was starting to pick up some of their nuances and mannerisms. It was freaking adorable.

“Ok I’m listening.” He said, crossing his arms but unable to hold back a smile at the love swelling in his chest at the adorableness that was Peter Parker, thinking nothing could put a hinderance on his good mood.

“I want to go out as Spiderman tonight.” Peter said in a rush.

Ok. So almost nothing.

“No.” The denial passed his lips without a thought. It was instant and automatic.

“Tony—” Peter started, borderline whining.

“No Peter.” He repeated, more firmly this time since it seemed like his kid actually had the audacity to argue about this.

“But—”

“You’re not allowed to go to school right now, why in the world would you think I’d let you go out as Spiderman?” Tony interrupted again, frowning.

“But Spiderman’s different than school.” Peter argued.

“It is. It’s more dangerous.”

“I can handle it. I just-I need the distraction. I think it would help with…everything.”

“Like it helped last time?” He asked. Didn’t Peter get what he was asking?

“That’s not fair.”

Tony could say a lot of things in response to that like how it also wasn’t fair to have to watch your kid almost become a pancake on the ground, but he knew that was the wrong thing to say, so he held back. He was angry, but he didn’t want to hurt Peter.

So instead, he took a deep breath and tried a different approach. “Why do you want to go out as Spiderman?”

He tried to ignore the hopeful expression on Peter’s face as he answered, “It helps me get out of my head. It helps me process things. And I feel…more alive I guess, more like myself when I’m Spiderman. And I-I just want to feel like myself again Tony. Please.”

“The answer’s still no.” He said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

Anger darkened Peter’s countenance. “Why’d you even ask if you weren’t going to change your mind?”

“Because I wanted to know.” Tony answered and the bluntness seemed to piss Peter off more.

Peter opened his mouth, probably to yell at him or spew some other deluded rationalization, but Tony held a hand up to stop him before he could.

“Listen kid.” Tony said, keeping his tone even, not letting any of his own frustration bleed in. “I get what you’re saying. I do. But listen. Rule numero uno of superheroing is you don’t go out and risk your life unless you have all your ducks in a row. That means you’re completely physically and emotionally well.”

Peter frowned “But—”

Tony could guess what he was going to say. Tony and every member of the Avengers had personally broken that rule numerous times, so he cut him off before he could. He held up a finger. “Let me finish.”

Peter stopped but with a frustrated huff.

“The only time you can break that rule is if it’s truly life or death or if there’s a real possibility of the world ending. Do get what I’m saying?”

“But people in Queens are dying all the time.” Peter argued. “They need Spiderman.”

“It’s not the same.” Tony shook his head.

“How is it not?” Peter asked, and Tony could tell he genuinely wanted to know, he wasn’t just trying to be difficult.

“The theoretical possibility of maybe saving one person’s life is not worth yours.” Tony explained.

Peter frowned but seemed to be thinking about Tony’s words.

“If Thanos,” Tony paused to wince, “appeared right now. I’d say, fine. You’re in. Because that’s an all hands on deck kind of situation. Going out on a routine patrol as Spiderman is not the same as that.”

Peter’s face twisted, but he didn’t argue. Tony skirted around the island and grasped Peter’s shoulders as he looked into his stormy eyes.

“Listen, there are responsibilities we take on as heroes. One of them is accepting that there are going to be things we need to risk our lives for. Sometimes there are things bigger than us worth dying for. That’s part of the gig.” It hurt Tony to say it because he never wanted to envision his own kid in that type of situation. “And…some things are worth that sacrifice.”

Peter paled. No doubt he was thinking of Tony’s own sacrifice.

“But most things are not. Patrolling as Spiderman is not.” Tony continued, not keeping the harshness out of the words. “Risking your life when you’re not completely ok isn’t brave. It’s stupid. Do you understand?”

Peter nodded reluctantly.

“Good.” Tony nodded.

“When you’re not on your A game you’re not focusing as well.” Tony said, wanting to hammer the point home.

“And all it takes is one second of distraction and just like that,” He snapped his fingers, “a knife or a bullet slips through and suddenly you’re bleeding out on the ground.”

Peter’s eyes went wide and he jerked backwards, out of Tony’s grasp.

“Pete?” Tony blinked. He didn’t think his description had been that gruesome, not enough to garner that type of reaction.

He watched as his kid took a few staggering steps back before his feet caught together and he crashed to the ground.

“Pete!” Tony crossed the distance and knelt down beside him in an instant. He went to grab his shoulder but his kid kept flailing his legs out to propel himself backward and out of reach, as if trying to escape some terrifying threat.

Tony didn’t think he was trying to escape him but the fear was still unsettling to witness. Peter ran out of space a few seconds later. His back slammed against the bottom of the kitchen cabinets, and then his head cracked against them when he tried to throw himself further away even though there was nowhere to go. Tony winced at the sound of it.

“Jesus.” Tony mumbled and moved to Peter’s side. He put a hand up between his kid’s skull and the cabinets in case he tried to do it again.

“Hey Pete. Peter. Look at me.” He ordered, and palmed Peter's cheek, trying to direct his gaze toward him. It didn’t work. Peter kept staring straight ahead, eyes wide with terror as his breaths came out in short, rapid pants.

“Oh shit.” Tony swore as he finally realized what was going on. Some type of flashback or panic attack. Maybe both. He couldn’t believe it’d taken him so long to recognize it given his own experience with them. He hated the thought of Peter suffering like he had, but he put that emotion on the backburner for now and focused on trying to help his kid.

When Peter didn’t seem to be at risk of cracking his head open anymore, Tony shifted so he was kneeling directly in front of him, face at eye level. He cradled his kid’s face in his hands and spoke, keeping his tone soft and soothing, “Hey kiddo. You’re safe. You’re here with me. You’re not there. You’re in New York in this awesome penthouse Pepper found us. And I’m here with you. Do you hear me Pete? Peter?”

The glazed over look in Peter’s eyes slowly started to fade, and after another handful of seconds, he blinked and refocused on Tony’s face in front of him.

“Tony?” He whispered, sounding scared but hopeful at the same time.

“Yeah.” Tony gave him a wan smile. “Are you with me?”

Peter glanced around in confusion, taking in his place on the kitchen floor, before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “I think so?”

He looked a little more with it but his breath was still coming out in pants.

“Ok.” Tony dropped one of his hands from Peter’s cheek to grab his kid's hand and bring to his chest. “You’re still breathing a little fast there buddy. Can you feel my breathing and try to match it to yours?”

Peter nodded and Tony brushed his hair back with his other hand and then left it planted at the base of his neck.

“Ok. In…and out. Good. Deep breath in…and out. You got it kiddo. Good job. In. Out. In. Out.” Tony coached him, ignoring the pain in his knees from the position.

“There.” Tony said once Peter’s breathing had finally gotten back to normal. “Better?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tony said seriously before asking, “Do you know what happened?”

“Yeah. I-I kind of freaked out.”

Tony hummed.

“This time was a lot worse than last time.”

“Last time? What do you mean last time? When was there a last time?” Tony frowned, unable to keep the alarm out of the questions.

“Remember that time I texted you from the bathroom at school?”

“You mean the time you said you were fine. That was after something like this happened?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Jesus.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you mad?” Peter asked anxiously.

“No. I’m not—” He paused to take a deep breath himself. “I’m not mad. I’m just…this is the kind of thing you need to tell me about.”

“I texted you.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief.

“And like I said, it wasn’t this bad.” Peter added.

“I told you I’d pick you up.”

“I didn’t need you too.”

“Peter,” Tony said with exasperation, “you had a panic attack and you stayed in school. That’s the sort of thing you take the rest of the day off for.”

Peter’s face pinched with skepticism, which almost would’ve been cute if the topic hadn’t been so serious. “A panic attack?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded and brushed a hand through Peter’s hair again. “That’s what that was kid.”

Peter blinked and looked at him with wide eyes. “How do you know?”

“Used to get them myself.”

“Really? You did?”

“Yeah. After New York.” He didn’t bother specifying since he knew Peter would understand what he meant. “And then again later…after Thanos. After losing you.”

Peter sucked in a breath of air. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tony gave him a tight smile and held out a hand. “But what do you say we get off the floor?”

“Ok.” Peter took his hand.

Tony grasped it and stood, pulling Peter up with him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s sit down and talk.” Tony said, guiding them back toward the couch.

“But the workshop.” Peter protested half-heartedly.

“The workshop can wait. This is more important.”

They sat down and Tony kept an arm draped around his kid. Peter leaned into his hold. They’d gone from arguing to practically cuddling in the span of under ten minutes. It was enough to give Tony emotional whiplash.

“How many of these have you had?” Tony asked quietly.

“Just the two.” Peter snorted, unamused. “Isn’t that enough?”

Tony hummed in response, and after a few seconds of silence he asked, “Does Ruth know about the other one?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think of it.” Peter shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Tony took another calming breath. He didn’t know how his kid could have a panic attack and then label it in his mind as not a big deal even if he hadn’t known what it was at the time.

“Do you want to tell Ruth about it or should I?” Tony asked. Peter’s therapist was coming over later that afternoon.

“Um…can you do it?”

“Sure kid. Do you know what set it off?” He asked. He knew Ruth would want to know and he wanted to know himself.

Peter nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah, um, it was the same thing both times.”

Tony frowned as he tried to figure out what he could’ve said or done to trigger that kind of reaction.

Before he could ask him, Peter asked hesitantly, “Can you maybe try not to snap your fingers around me anymore? At least for a little while?”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat and he stiffened. Peter sensed it and turned wide eyes on him.

“Um is that ok?” He asked anxiously.

“Yeah. Of course it’s ok.” Tony answered quickly and then shook his head in frustration at himself. “Shit kid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Peter mumbled.

But it wasn’t. Tony should’ve thought of that, but it hadn’t even been on his radar. Probably because even though he’d watched the video playback, he hadn’t actually been the one to do it. Other Tony had, or his later past self, or whatever. Regardless, the last time Peter had seen him snap his fingers, he’d ended up subsequently dying from it.

“That’s what happened at school too? Someone snapped their fingers?”

Peter nodded. “My teacher. And I know it’s stupid. I know it shouldn’t bother me so much, and it’s completely irrational, but when it happens it’s like everything disappears and all I can see is you. Snapping. And…dying.”

Tony could tell just talking about it was getting Peter worked up again, so he shushed him and ran a hand down the back of his head. “It’s not stupid.”

“Sure feels like it.” Peter mumbled.

“Well it’s not. Shit kid, after the alien thing in New York, if someone just said the word space or wormhole around me, I’d freak out.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” Tony kept running fingers through Peter’s hair.

“How’d you get better?”

“Time. Therapy. Lots of therapy.”

Peter snorted.

“But it gets better kid. Promise. Hey, I ended up in space with you, and I completely held it together, remember?”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say that.” Peter teased, obviously feeling better.

“Well no panic attacks at least.” At least none that the kid had seen. There’d been a couple close calls and one definite breakdown when he’d been stuck on that ship with Nebula on their way back to Earth.

“Yeah.” Peter sighed and Tony could hear the desolation in it.

“Hey.” Tony tapped Peter’s chin with his finger. “Chin up Underoos. It’ll get better. Just give it some time.”

“Seems like it’s taking forever.”

“It’s only been a couple weeks Pete.”

“Yeah weeks.” Peter complained.

Tony smiled. “Give it a few months and then see where you’re at. I bet how you feel now compared to how you’ll feel then will be a lot different.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

Peter sighed again but instead of continuing the conversation, he changed the subject and asked, “Can we go down to the workshop now?”

“You sure you’re feeling up to it?”

Peter nodded.

“All right. Whatever you want kid.” Tony said as he stood.

That got a small smile out of Peter as he followed a step behind him while they walked to the elevator doors.

“I’m going to ask one more thing and then we don’t have to talk about it anymore, ok?” Tony said once they stepped into the elevator.

“Ok.” Peter agreed begrudgingly.

“Do you understand why I don’t think you’re ready to go out as Spiderman yet?” He asked, reaching over to squeeze Peter shoulder so it wouldn’t feel like he was asking to be mean spirited.

“Yeah.” Peter mumbled, staring down at the elevator floor as the doors closed behind them.

Peter mouth twisted. “I guess it’d be pretty embarrassing if Spiderman died because he was too busy having a meltdown from some bad guy snapping his fingers to defend himself from getting shot.”

Tony’s chest clenched in fear at the visual of that exact situation before he had the wherewithal to chastise Peter. “Hey. Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Sorry.” Peter said, not sounding sorry at all.

Tony squeezed his shoulder again. “Remember what I said. It’ll get better. Give it time. You’ll be out swinging again in no time.”

“Yeah.” Peter didn’t seem so sure.

“You will. I promise.” Tony said and patted Peter between the shoulder blades as the elevator doors opened to the workshop. “Now come on. You can help me with some suit upgrades I’ve been thinking about.”

“Really?” Peter asked with hopeful eyes. He and Peter had worked together in the workshop all the time before Thanos but he’d rarely let him help with the Ironman suit.

“Yeah.” Tony said as they walked out of the elevator.

“Ok.” Peter grinned, eager excitement lighting up his face.

In that moment, he looked exactly like the old Peter that Tony remembered. Tony smiled back. Yeah. His kid was going to get better. He just needed a little more time and some TLC. And Tony had plenty of both to give now.

Chapter Text

Peter didn’t get better all at once.

It was definitely a process, and it was frustrating, but he kept at it. He put in the effort with Ruth even though he didn’t think it was helping, he took his medication even though he didn’t really want to, and as time passed, things slowly started to get better.

He got to go back to school and see his friends and reclaim some semblance of his normal life.

As he got more comfortable being away from Tony, he started spending more and more time with May in the evenings and on weekends, but he still spent all his nights in the penthouse with Tony, not quite ready to leave yet. A part of him worried that after what he’d gone through with losing Tony, he might never be ready, and no matter how understanding May had been with everything, he still felt guilty about essentially abandoning her, even though Ruth told him he shouldn’t.

Staying in the penthouse meant the nightmares had thankfully decreased, but they still hadn’t disappeared. Every time he had one, he woke up to Tony. He was always there to speak soothing words, to hold him, to comfort him, and to reassure him that he was alive. And after the first four or five times, Peter had even stopped feeling embarrassed about it. Honestly, the consistency of Tony always being there for him was probably a big part of the reason he was getting better.

He loved this new relationship with Tony. Something he never would’ve gotten to experience if he hadn’t saved him. Tony treated him like his own kid and he wasn’t afraid to show it or let Peter know it. It meant everything to him.

Before Peter knew it, a month had passed, and then two. He hadn’t had any more panic attacks or flashbacks or whatever since that last one in the kitchen with Tony. He was only seeing Ruth once a week now, he was back to a healthy weight again, and he was feeling more himself. Smiling more. And happy. He only had one week of school left, and he was actually excited for the summer and for college instead of dreading it like he had been.

“Hey kid.” Tony knocked on his bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Peter answered as he finished shoving everything he needed into his backpack. It was his last day of classes before the weekend. Finals started next week, which he was more than ready for with all the free time he’d had to study since he hadn’t been given the ok to go out as Spiderman yet.

“Got a minute?” Tony asked as he sat down on the end of his bed.

Peter glanced at the clock. He was already running late. “Um not really?”

“It’s ok. I’ll drive you to school.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked. Usually he took the subway because he didn’t mind it, and Happy lived with May in Queens now so the man wasn’t exactly available to drive him, and he didn’t want to burden Pepper or Tony by making them drive him to school every day even though they definitely would if he asked.

“Yeah. Come here. Sit.” Tony said, patting the bedspread next to him.

“Ok.” Peter dropped his backpack on his desk chair and shuffled over to plop down next to Tony. “Um what’s up?”

Tony draped an arm around his shoulders. “I have some good news.”

“Ok?” Peter looked at him quizzically and somewhat suspiciously. He could see a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“I talked to Ruth last night.” Tony said, waiting for his reaction. Peter knew Ruth talked to Tony about him, but he mostly tried to ignore that fact. They’d never talked about it, but he’d caught on pretty quickly when Tony would bring up certain things he knew he’d only told Ruth, and when he started coaching him after his nightmares using the same calming techniques he and Ruth had discussed in therapy.

“Yeah? About what?”

“Spiderman.”

Peter frowned and then his eyes widened when he finally got with the program. “Wait. Are you saying... What are you saying?”

He didn’t want to get too excited if he was wrong.

“We discussed it and we both think you’re ready to go back out as Spiderman. If you want to.”

“If I want to? Of course I want to!” Peter jumped up. He couldn’t help it. “Are you serious?”

Tony nodded, smiling in amusement at his excitement.

“Oh my god this is awesome! Can I go right now?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No?”

“Don’t you have school right now?” Tony reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

He groaned and fell backwards onto the bed next to Tony. Shit. That was right. He’d completely forgotten.

“Nooo. Why couldn’t you have waited until after school to tell me? I’m never going to be able to concentrate now.” He whined. Not that it mattered. He was pretty sure they weren’t getting any new material today, just reviewing old stuff and going over study guide material before finals next week.

“Because I have meetings scheduled all afternoon and into the evening, so I probably won’t be home until way after dinner. I didn’t think you’d want me to wait until then to tell you, but maybe I was wrong.”

“No no no. You weren’t wrong. I take it back. I’m glad you told me. Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re welcome kid. Now let’s get going.” Tony patted his leg. “I’ll even stop at that gross donut shop you like on the way and let you stuff yourself full of sugar.”

“Moe’s?”

Tony nodded.

“Yes!” Peter bounded back to his feet, beaming. “Best day ever. Thanks Tony.”

He flung himself at the man to give him a quick hug, before grabbing his backpack and making his way out the door. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.

A school day had never dragged along like this one. Peter swore he could feel every second crawling by. It was slow torture. He just wanted to be done so he could go home and suit up and get back into the swing of things as Spiderman.

“Calm down there tiger.” MJ muttered from the desk across from him.

He tore his gaze away from the clock and looked at her questioningly.

She nodded toward his rapidly twitching leg. “You’re shaking the desk.”

“Oh.” He was. “Sorry.”

He forced himself to take a deep breath and relax. There were only fifteen minutes left until the day was over. He could make it.

He tried to focus on what Mr. Bryant was saying about which topics would be higher yield for the final, but it was hopeless. Everything went in one ear and out the other. He’d have to grab the notes from Ned this weekend.

Finally, the school bell rang. Peter catapulted out of his desk and practically sprinted out of the room, ignoring MJ’s raised eyebrow.

“Have fun man. Call me tomorrow.” He heard Ned say after him. He’d already explained things to him, so he wouldn’t be upset when he bailed the second school let out.

The trip back home passed in a blur, but he finally made it home. He wasted no time tugging his suit on. One of the best things about living in a penthouse apartment was that he could just jump right off the balcony and start swinging. He didn’t have to worry about changing and hiding his backpack behind a dumpster somewhere.

The free fall into the air made him whoop in delight. He webbed to the side of a nearby building and swung through New York headed towards Queens. It felt like coming home. He didn’t feel dangerously untethered like he had last time he’d donned the suit. Because this time he knew that if anything happened, he’d have Ironman for back up.

“Petey!” Morgan slammed the lake house door open and called out to him. “Dad wants to know what’s taking so long.”

“We’re almost done!” He yelled back. “Tell him five more minutes.”

“I will but he’s not going to like it.” Morgan said in response, but he heard the door slam shut again a second later.

“Spirited little thing, isn’t she?” May commented from beside him.

“That’s one way to put it.” Happy grumbled.

“Hey that’s my little sister you’re talking about.” Peter joked. “She’s perfect.”

They all laughed at that.

“Here honey.” May said, handing him the tray of hamburger patties they’d finished putting together. “You can bring those out. I’ll bring the rest out when they’re done.”

“Ok. Thanks May.” He grabbed the tray, filled with twenty patties and started toward the door.

“Here let me get the door for you kid.” Happy said, hurrying past him to hold the door open.

“Thanks Happy.”

“You need help with that?” Happy gestured to the large tray.

“No I’m good.” Peter shook his head.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I know how you are. You can do all those acrobatic gymnastics in the air but you trip over your own two feet on the ground.”

“I do not.”

“Yeah? Tell me again how that vase broke last weekend?”

“That was an accident.”

“Exactly. You’re accident prone.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at him. “Your concern for me is touching, but I think I can carry a tray of hamburgers twenty feet without dropping it or hurting myself.”

“Ok. If you’re sure.” Happy shrugged.

“Kid! Quit gabbing and get over here. People are hungry. And by people I mean me.” Tony yelled from across the yard where he stood by the grill with Rhodey and old Cap.

Peter and Happy both rolled their eyes, but Peter started walking over to him as beckoned. On the way, he didn’t come close to tripping or dropping the plate even once.

As he approached Tony, he caught the tail end of his conversation with Cap. “I’m just saying think about it. I know you already got to do the whole life lived thing, but if you want, I could use the time travel technology to push time through you like Bruce accidentally did to Scott, remember? It made him younger. I could do the same thing to you.”

“It turned him into a baby.” Steve argued.

“Semantics. I’m not going to turn you into a baby. I’d tweak it first so you’d go back to your spry thirty something self. You could live your peak years all over again.”

“I don’t know Tony.” Steve shook his head.

“At least think about it before you tell me no.” Tony waved the grill spatula at him. Rhodey had to jerk back to avoid being hit by it.

“Ok I’ll think about it.” Steve smiled.

“I’ve got the burgers for you. As requested.” Peter said as he stopped in front of Tony and held the tray out to him.

“About time. What took you so long? Were you making sure they were all perfectly symmetrical?” Tony complained, but Peter could tell he was kidding as he took the tray.

“That’s exactly what we were doing. How’d you know?” Peter joked right back, smiling at the unamused look he received in return.

“Hey, can you do me a favor and go make sure Pepper doesn’t need any more help?” Tony asked, head nodding toward where she stood at the extra long picnic table they’d probably bought just for this occasion.

“Sure.” Peter agreed.

As he walked away his enhanced hearing overheard Rhodey tell Tony, “You know, he acts more and more like you every day.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware.” Tony said dryly.

Peter smiled.

“Do you need any help Pepper?” He offered once he’d made it over to the picnic table. Laura was already helping her and between the two of them, it looked like they had it pretty well in hand. Dishes of fruit, chips, dips, all different kinds of salads, hamburger buns, condiments, and blue plastic plates and cutlery were arranged over a white and red checkered table cloth. Old fashioned steel buckets filled with ice and every beverage you could imagine sat nearby. Peter couldn’t recall ever attending a more perfect Fourth of July party. If this was what dinner looked like, he couldn’t wait to see what Tony had planned for the fireworks.

“No honey I’m good, but thanks for asking.” Pepper shooed him away.

“No problem.” He turned away, figuring he could go mingle with everyone else until the food was ready.

“Actually,” Pepper’s voice stopped him before he could get very far, “could you find your sister and have her wash up before we eat?”

“Sure. Do you know where she went?” He glanced around, not spotting her right away.

“I think she’s playing with Nate and Cooper on the other side of the house.” Laura answered, half distracted, as she helped finish arranging things on the table.

“Ok.” Peter headed over there. They had a badminton net set up and Clint and Natasha were playing against Sam and Scott. It wasn’t hard to figure out who was winning.

“I said I had it tic tac!” Sam rebuked Scott as he picked up the birdie on the ground while Clint and Natasha and high fived on the other side of the net.

Peter held back a laugh at the scathing look Scott gave Sam in response. He walked past the court, giving them a wide berth. Cooper, Nate, and Morgan were running around in the grassy area behind it, playing water balloon tag with Professor Hulk. They were all soaking wet but wearing swimsuits so it wasn’t like it mattered much.

“Morgan.” Peter called out to her to try to get her attention.

She looked over at him but didn’t stop or come any closer, clearly engrossed in her game.

“Come on. It’s almost time to eat. Your mom says you have to go clean up.”

“Five more minutes.” She told him as she took off running in the opposite direction.

“Nope. Now. Come on, let’s go.” He closed the distance between them, ready to grab her if she wouldn’t stop.

But she did stop.

She turned on her heel and whipped the water balloon in her hand right at him with a wide grin.

It nailed him directly in the face. Water ran down his body and completely soaked him.

“Morgan.” He said her name tersely in reproof. “We don’t throw water balloons at people who aren’t in swimsuits.”

Great. Now he had to go change.

As he stood there dripping wet and attempting to look reproachful, Morgan was overcome with a fit of giggles. It didn’t exactly help his ego that Cooper, Nate, and Professor Hulk all started laughing at him too.

“All right that’s it.” He declared and ran at Morgan. She squealed and turned to run. He chased her down easily while she laughed the entire time.

“Gotcha.” He said as he grabbed her under the armpits and hauled her up into the air and into his arms. “You’re in trouble now.”

He pushed up the SPF sunshirt she had on over her swimsuit and gave her three raspberries in a row right on her stomach. She kept laughing almost manically and squirming to get away.

He set her back down on her feet and then said, “Tickle attack,” and started tickling her sides. She absolutely screamed with laughter and would’ve collapsed to the ground if Peter hadn’t caught her and lowered her down. She flailed around, laughing.

“Stop. Stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She finally yelled.

Peter granted her mercy and stopped. He grinned as she glared at him.

“Next time you hit me with a water balloon while I’m wearing clothes you go in the lake.” He told her, not actually serious.

Instead of looking appropriately chastised, she smiled and asked excitedly, “Can we go in the lake after dinner?”

“Kind of defeating the purpose of my point, but sure.” He said as he helped her stand back up.

“Yay! Race you back to the house!” She said and took off.

Peter shook his head. Well, at least she wasn’t fighting him anymore about getting cleaned up. He ran after her, catching up easily but letting her think it was going to be a close finish. In the end, he let her win.

“Go wash your hands.” He said once they were inside the house and he’d wrapped a towel around her. “I’m going to go change since someone got me soaked.”

“Ok.” She agreed easily with a grin, wiping dripping strands of hair out of her face as she headed to the bathroom. He hoped she actually listened. He figured he could always throw some hand sanitizer on her just be sure.

He rubbed at his hair with his own towel as he went up to his room where he peeled off his wet clothes and finished drying off before pulling on a pair of swim trunks and a plain white t-shirt.

Appropriately clothed for possible water activities, he walked back down the stairs and called out for Morgan, but she didn’t answer, and he didn’t see her.

“Morgan?” He tried again.

“She went back outside.” Dr. Strange answered as he walked out of the kitchen carrying an enormous serving platter filled with cookies, brownies, and mini cupcakes.

“Oh. Thanks.” He was about to go, but he stopped. It was just him and Dr. Strange inside. May and Happy must’ve gone outside already too. He couldn’t imagine getting another opportunity like this to ask the question that’d been on his mind, bothering him.

“Was there something else?” Dr. Strange asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. Peter realized he’d been staring at him.

“Um…yeah actually. Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Dr. Strange pointed out unhelpfully.

“You know what I mean.”

Dr. Strange set the dessert platter down on a nearby table.

“Ask away.” He said, holding both his hands out, palms up.

Peter glanced around. No one was coming in and there definitely wasn’t anyone else in the house.

“Ok.” He took a deep breath. “You told Tony that the other reality I created by bringing him forward in time, bringing him here, still ended up winning.”

“That’s not a question.” Dr. Strange said.

“I know. Um, my question is…was that true?”

Dr. Strange’s brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly. “Why would I lie?”

“I guess what I’m asking is,” he took another deep breath and continued, “what do you mean when you say they won?”

Dr. Strange brought his hands together in front of his chest, steepling his index fingers into a point as he appeared to consider Peter’s question.

“You and I both know that when it comes to winning, it’s all a matter of perspective.” He answered cryptically.

It was true. They’d won the war against Thanos, but Peter had felt like he’d lost everything when Tony had died.

“So what are you really asking?” Dr. Strange prompted.

Peter chewed his lip and asked, “Did anyone die because of me? Because of what I did?”

“No.” Dr. Strange answered simply, and Peter felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Really?”

Dr. Strange gave him a single nod.

“And they really won? They defeated Thanos?” Peter asked tentatively.

“With the stones out of play it was much less complicated. They were able to defeat his army, and Captain Marvel was the one that finished Thanos.”

Peter nodded. He chewed his lip again before garnering the courage to ask, “And me? What happened to me? And Pepper and Morgan?”

“All alive.”

“But without Tony.”

Dr. Strange lifted his eyebrows slightly, as if to say ‘of course’.

“And they’re handling it ok?” He asked.

“Did you?”

No. He hadn’t. Obviously. So the Peter in the new timeline or reality or whatever it was called, was just as miserable as he had been.

“So I took him away from them.”

“That was always going to be the outcome. You know that. He would’ve died snapping the gauntlet. At least this way he’s alive in one reality.” Dr. Strange’s voice softened at the end. “He’s alive for you.”

“I guess.” Peter mumbled. “Kind of seems like a shit deal for some other people, though.”

“Winning usually is.” Dr. Strange said.

Peter let out short exhale through his nose at that truthful nugget of wisdom.

“It’ll be all right Peter.” Dr. Strange said as he picked up the platter filled with sweets. “You saved a life. No reason to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah.” He gave the man a weak smile. “Thanks.”

He had saved a life, and not just his own. Tony’s. The man who had become as much a father to him as his own father or Ben had been before. And because Tony was still here, Peter knew that even though he wasn’t completely back to normal yet, he would be. He was healing and he was happy. With the help of his family, it was all going to be ok.

He and Dr. Strange walked out of the house together back toward the picnic table where everyone was congregated, either eating or dishing up food onto their plates. Pepper was helping Morgan get her plate together, May and Happy were smiling huddled over their food, and Tony was laughing with a mouth full of burger as he talked to Rhodey, Clint, and Nat. Instead of going to get his own plate right away, Peter walked over to Tony and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Tony instantly reciprocated, but Peter could feel him tense in concern.

“Hey, you ok?” Tony asked lightly, setting his empty hand on the top of his head.

“Yeah.” He looked up and smiled. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

He could tell Tony knew exactly what he meant. His eyes softened and he smiled back.

“Me too kid.” Tony said and kissed the crown of his head. “Me too.”