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The dreams seem normal, at first.
It’s been over six months since Mister Stark had died to save everyone - to bring Peter back from being dead. But to Peter, every day still feels like a slog– something to be endured, rather than enjoyed.
He can’t seem to go even an hour without thinking of his mentor, the longing ache in his heart palpable. It doesn’t help that there are memorials graffitied along nearly every alley, laid out at every street corner, in almost every classroom– not to mention the planned Avengers half-museum-half-memorial the former Stark Tower was being renovated into, Pepper having bought it back only to gift it to the city for that exact purpose.
No matter where Peter went, bad memories followed him– the reminder that yet another person he had loved - had counted on to always be there - was gone.
The only place he had any reprieve lately, it seemed, were his dreams.
Not that Mister Stark never showed up– he did, sometimes. But not always. Sometimes Peter’s dreams were wacky, like when he dreamt he was a merkid who went to school underwater. Sometimes they were nostalgic, like a recurring dream he had of the sunny summer day May & Ben had taken him to the Central Park Zoo when he was eight. Sometimes they were pure joy, like the one where he discovered his Spidey powers gave him the ability to not just soar but actually fly. And sometimes they were, well– Peter hesitated to call them romantic. But for lack of a better word– sometimes they were that, and Mister Stark was definitely never showing up in one of those.
Not even all his sad dreams were about Tony– Ben and his parents making somber appearances every so often.
But then one night, Peter had maybe the best dream of all.
He’s at the upstate cabin, on the dock. Peter is in his swim shorts, having just climbed out of the water after taking a morning swim. On the beach Morgan is building a sandcastle, and over on the porch he can just make out Tony, drinking a cup of coffee and watching them both with a smile on his face.
Peter grabs his towel, quickly drying off before walking back onto land and trudges up the lawn and into the porch.
“Morning, underoos. How was the swim?”
“Hey Mister Stark! It was good, though I smell kinda fishy now.”
Tony smiled. “That’s gotta be a step up from regular Teenage Boy, but I’m not getting close enough to check.”
Peter rolls his eyes.
“At least I don’t smell like a brand new penny all the time,” he says, gesturing to Tony’s shiny metal arm, which was only completed the weekend before.
“Hey now,” Tony says, giving him the stink eye. “That’s no way to talk to the Savior of the Universe.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “See, and here I thought it was Dr. Banner who actually brought everyone–hey!”
While he’d been talking Tony stood up and wrapped his prosthetic arm around Peter’s neck, pulling the teen into his chest and giving him a thorough noogie.
Peter ducks down and out of the hold, laughing. “That was completely uncalled for!”
“Well that’s what you get for being mouthy, spiderling,” Tony replies, only to wrap his arm back around Peter again, but gentler this time. He leans in and gives the kid a kiss on the forehead.
Peter smirks at him arrogantly. “What’s that you just said about not wanting to get so close you can smell me?”
Tony just pulls him in closer, smirking. “I’ve lived next to this lake for over five years, Pete– I’m practically immune. And anyway, you could smell like a skunk for all I care– you’re my kid. And any kid of mine is getting a hug from me whenever I damn well feel like it.”
Peter looks away toward the lake and then back at Tony, a soft smile. “Sounds good to me, Mister Stark.”
Tony looks down at this watch then. “Ah, sorry kiddo, time to say bye for now. I’ll see you again soon, okay?”
Peter’s brow furrows. “But Mister Stark, I’m here all summer. What are you–”
Tony shakes his head sadly. “Go back, Pete. I’ll still be here when you–”
Peter opens his eyes to his bedroom ceiling. He stares up at it blearily, completely disoriented but still feeling a sense of utter calm, before it hits him all over again– Mister Stark is dead. It was just a dream.
And yet, Peter can’t remember a dream that had ever felt so real.
The day passes with an extra layer of melancholy. Ned and MJ cast Peter worried side glances when they think he’s not looking, Ned even asking once if he’s okay.
“Just a weird dream I had,” Peter responds with a yawn, but it’s enough for Ned to not ask again.
“You look tired, hon,” May tells him after dinner. “Why don’t you hit the hay a bit early tonight?”
Normally Peter would put up a fight, but May is right– he’s wiped.
After finishing up his homework, he goes to lie down on his bed, passing out almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.
“Hey kiddo,” Tony says when Peter enters the garage lab. “You made it back!”
“Back?” Peter asks, something niggling at the edges of his mind.
“Yeah,” Tony says with a small smile, but doesn’t elaborate. “Hey, what do you think of helping your old man out with an anniversary gift for Pepper? She’s been complaining about our roombas not sucking up all the Oreo crumbs Morgan trails everywhere, and between you and me I know we can figure out something better. It’s no Rescue suit, but it might be fun.”
“Sounds good, Mister Stark,” Peter says, smiling. Tony grins, reaching an arm out for a hug which Peter gratefully falls into.
“I miss you when you’re not here, kid,” Tony whispers into Peter’s ear, before pulling away and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, enough of that– let’s do this.”
They work together happily for what feels like hours, and Peter can’t remember the last time he felt so happy– so at peace. He’s about to say as much when Tony suddenly looks at him, eyes full of regret.
“Time for you to go, kiddo.”
Peter’s head whips to him. “Go where?”
Tony sighs. “You know where, Peter. You gotta go back.”
“But-but why? Go back where?”
Tony walks over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Try your best to remember next time, okay?”
“Remember what?”
“That I’m here– that I’m always right here, waiting for you.”
Peter opens his eyes with a gasp, his alarm blaring. He sits up, looking around and almost calling for Tony when he remembers. He can’t call for Tony– Tony was dead.
But once again– it felt so real.
Peter remembers what Dream-Tony said then– that he’s always right there. Peter can’t help but wonder– would he dream of Tony again tonight?
I wish I could just go back to sleep, he thinks with a yawn, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that adds, because I miss him too.
That night, Peter decides to go straight to bed after dinner. May had checked his forehead when he went to give her a goodnight hug.
“Are you sure you’re not sick?” she asked him, but Peter just gave her a tired smile.
“Nah, just tired, I promise.”
Once he was in his room, it was all he could do to strip down to his boxers and crawl under his covers. He thinks about what Tony said in his dream - remember - and it’s his last waking thought before he’s pulled under.
They’re on the couch in the living room, just the two of them. Star Wars: A New Hope is playing on the TV, and Peter has a big bowl of popcorn in his lap.
He turns to Tony, who smiles at him, before stealing some popcorn and turning back to the movie, wrapping his metal arm around Peter’s shoulders.
It’s comforting, and so familiar, but there’s something… Peter knows there’s something–
Peter turns to Tony with wide eyes. “I remember.”
Tony twists his head to look at him, a giant grin on his face. “Really, kid?”
“Yeah, I remember being here before– swimming in the lake, and in the garage…” Peter trails off, feeling tears well up. “I remember this is all a dream and that– that you’re dead.”
Tony gives a long sigh, before gently taking the popcorn bowl out of Peter’s hands and setting it aside. He turns back to Peter with a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry kid, but it’s true.”
Peter’s lip trembles, the tears threatening to overflow now. He ducks his head down, only for Tony to gently put two fingers on his chin, lifting until Peter is looking back into his eyes.
“It’s true that I’m dead. But that doesn’t make this any less real.”
Peter shakes his head. “H-how do you mean?”
Tony bites his lip. I don’t know how exactly, but I think when I snapped and then died– I think the stones somehow… transported my soul here? Because I swear to you, I’m not just in your head, okay? This is more than a dream, kid.”
Peter takes a deep, shuddering breath. “But that’s– that’s insane, Mister Stark–”
“No more insane than the things we’ve seen, Pete.”
Peter considers that for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. But then– how do we get you out of here?”
Tony shakes his head, his smiling falling. “At first I tried to figure that out, kiddo. I knew I had died but I also knew this couldn’t be my perfect afterlife because, well… you weren’t here.”
Before Peter can respond to that, Tony continues. “Eventually I figured out there was no way out, and I was mostly okay with that, except for missing you. But now it seems I can finally have everything I’ve ever wanted, because you’re here. Even if I always feel awful when you’re about to leave– like something precious is getting ripped away from me.”
Peter opens his mouth to apologize, but Tony shakes his head.
“None of that,” Tony says, pulling Peter into another hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
They sit like that for a few moments before Peter pulls back. “We need to get you out, Mister Stark.”
Tony shakes his head again. “I told you, Peter. There is no way– unless you still have the stones?”
Peter looks away, grimacing. “No, Steve returned them all.”
Tony nods somberly.
“I thought that might be the case,” he says, before giving Peter another grin. “But that’s okay, because you’ll come visit me now, won’t you? You won’t stop, right?”
“Of course not,” Peter answers right away. “I don’t know how any of this works but– I don’t want to lose you again.”
“God, I’ve missed you so much, underoos.” Tony puts a palm to Peter’s cheek before giving him a look of pure parental love. “When you’re here, everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be– for both of us.”
The weeks carry on, and with them Peter’s nightly visits with his mentor. Despite what Tony had said, Peter does consider reaching out to the Avengers– seeing what could be done to bring Tony back for good.
But Tony is adamant that there is no hope, and moreover– Peter can tell the man doesn’t even really want to come back, preferring the idyllic life in whatever universe or timeline or wherever it is he’s stuck.
As for Peter, he doesn’t mean to start sleeping more often, he really doesn’t. But it’s hard to resist the chance to spend as much time with Tony as he can, now that he has him back– even if he can only see him when he’s asleep.
He knows he should at least tell May the truth– if for no other reason than so she’ll stop looking at him with concern every time he spaces out from being so exhausted or slinks off to bed as soon as he’s put his dinner dishes in the sink.
Peter decides to bring up the idea to Tony.
I don’t think that’s a good idea, kiddo,” Tony says as together they work on replacing some of the old wooden porch steps.
“But you don’t see her, Mister Stark! I can tell she’s really worried, and–”
Tony twists around, fixing Peter with a narrow stare. “And what do you think she’ll think, huh? You don’t really think she’ll take your word for it that I’m real, do you? That you’re really seeing me? That it’s not just your grief playing out in your subconscious?”
Peter considers that. “I think if we could just figure out the best way to explain it– I think she might understand? And then maybe we could even ask Dr. Strange, see if he can help–”
Tony throws down his hammer all of a sudden, standing up and striding over to Peter, face furious. “You will not under any circumstances tell Strange about this, do you fuckin’ understand me?”
The look of pure anger in Tony’s eyes has Peter stepping back, a feeling of terror spreading up his spine. But no, he has no reason to be scared of Tony– right?
Tony must see the fear in Peter’s expression because he softens immediately, eyes welling up. He scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Pete, I didn’t mean to get mad. I’m just– I’m scared, okay? I’m scared that Strange might try to go into your head or whatever wizard crap he likes to pull and make it so I can’t see you anymore.”
Tony pulls Peter into a tight hug. “I just– I can’t bear to lose you, kid. Please, don’t make me go through that again.”
Peter is frozen in Tony’s arms for a few moments, before letting himself relax into the embrace.
“Okay, Mister Stark. I won’t tell.”
The promise gets harder and harder to keep though. As time goes on, Peter finds himself drawn more and more to being with Tony, and less and less to his waking life.
He starts to fall behind in school, no longer spending keeping on top of his homework like he used to. Then he starts turning down Ned’s offers to hang out, saying he’s too tired from patrol. But even that excuse eventually grows flimsy, as the weeks pass and he doesn’t go out as Spider-Man more than once or twice.
Yet even as he sleeps more and more, he feels a deep, all-encompassing weariness growing in his bones. He begins to nod off in all his classes, the bags under his eyes darkening with every passing day. Eventually he has trouble mustering up any real enthusiasm during his waking hours at all– every ounce of extra energy being used to fool May as much as he can.
Peter wonders if his time with Tony is somehow keeping him from getting actual rest. But even as his body succumbs to the lack of real sleep, his resolve to keep his secret only grows. Because when he’s with Tony, he doesn’t feel tired, or sad, or lonely. When he’s with Tony, he just feels content– complete.
Peter’s out on the dock with Tony, watching the sunset. He’s been at the cabin all day– he must be sleeping a really long time.
They’re not talking, preferring to sit in content silence together, Tony’s flesh arm around his shoulders when Peter hears a voice in the distance.
“Peter? Honey, wake up.”
Peter jumps to his feet. “Do you hear that, Mister Stark? That’s May!”
May has woken Peter up from being with Tony many times now, but every time before it had been like a blink– one second he was with Tony, the next he was opening his eyes to a blurry-faced May. Now though, he can hear her calling him, probably standing over his bed with a hand on his shoulder.
Peter closes his eyes, knowing he’s about to open them back in his bedroom. But when he raises his lids, it’s only to see Tony still– now standing in front of him now with a curious expression.
Peter’s brow furrows.
“Peter? This isn’t funny. Wake up, sweetheart.”
“Mister Stark?” Peter’s getting concerned now. “What’s– why am I not waking up?”
Tony continues to just watch him, not speaking.
“Peter? Peter!”
Peter feels cold all of a sudden, an anxious shiver escaping him. Tony moves at that, coming over and wrapping Peter up in his arms. “Oh, kiddo. It’s okay– everything is okay.”
Peter pulls away. “It’s not okay though! I can’t– I’m not waking up! May needs me and she’s probably terrified and–”
“Does she really need you?” Tony asks him, and Peter’s jaw drops.
“What kind of question is that? Of course she needs me!”
“Think about it, kiddo. You told me that when you’re awake, all you feel is tired and depressed. That you just want to be back here. Don’t you think it’s better if you were to stay? May’s so worried about you all the time. Wouldn’t it be better if for you both if you set her free from that burden– from you?”
Peter takes a sharp breath. Tony’s words make Peter feel nauseous, and yet– Peter knows he’s not wrong. Peter’s been nothing but moody and snappish for weeks now with May. He knew he was hurting her but he just… didn’t care. But yet– he knows it’ll also hurt her if he never wakes up.
“I’m just– I’m so confused, Mister Stark,” Peter finally whispers, tears starting to fall. He can still hear May, frantic now, probably shaking his shoulders and rubbing his sternum– doing everything she can to wake him.
Tony reaches out his metal arm, clasping Peter’s shoulder. “I know, kiddo, and I’m sorry about that. But I really do think this is for the best. And we haven’t had this world’s May out here yet but I can invite her if you’d like. You can still be with her here– you can be with both of us. We can finally have everything exactly as it should have been from the beginning. Please, underoos– don’t leave again.”
“I– I don’t–”
Tony lets out a frustrated growl, so unexpected that Peter jumps. “Look. What do you think will happen if you wake up now, huh? ‘Cause May won’t take any more of your excuses, that’s for damn sure. And then the Avengers will get involved and they’ll take you away from here forever– and you’ll never get to see me again. Is that what you want, Peter?”
Peter knows Tony is right. If he goes back now, there’s no way May will let things continue on as they have been. She’ll eventually wheedle the truth out of Peter and then who knows what will happen, but it will probably end with Peter’s only connection to Tony being severed.
He doesn’t think he’d survive losing Tony– not again.
Peter doesn’t answer right away, and Tony grips his shoulder so hard it hurts, shaking him. “Well? Is that what you want?”
“No,” Peter whispers, guilt at how selfish he’s being making his guts churn.
Tony couldn’t look more hopeful if he tried. “So… you’ll stay?”
Peter gulps. “Yes, Mister Stark. I’ll stay.”
Just like that May’s cries disappear, the call of the loons and the laps of the lake waves the only sounds.
Tony’s expression morphs from one of eagerness to absolute delight, and he pulls Peter in for a hug. “Oh, thank god, Peter. I’m so happy.”
The lingering feeling of unease in Peter dissipates at Tony’s words. The man sounds so overwhelmingly happy– how could Peter not be as well?
This really is for the best, Peter decides as he hugs the man back. Here he can be with his entire family, whole and safe and happy.
He never has to leave Tony again.
Holding Peter in its embrace, the creature presses a chaste kiss to the boy’s neck before letting its true face show– pitch black eyes and a lipless maw. It holds the form just long enough to breathe in a little more of the boy’s life force.
The creature had enjoyed slowly feasting on the child– taking its time to really savor every morsel. But now that the boy had finally chosen to stay in the illusion, the process would naturally speed up– until the creature had consumed every last drop from the child.
There was no doubt– it would miss the boy once he was drained dry. The creature has lived and fed for millennia, and yet it had never tasted a soul as sweet as this one. A soul so full of pain yet still so strong and loving, and from one so young… the creature would be hard-pressed to find another like him. But no matter– the child’s rich vitality would nourish it for decades to come.
The creature pulls away then to look at the boy, the illusion of the father-figure restored. It smiles at the content look the boy wears, bringing a palm to his cheek.
Your time is short, my child. But do not worry– I will not let you suffer.
“I love you, Peter,” the creature says then. And it’s true - as much as the creature is capable of love, and as much as any being can love its prey - it is not a lie.
The boy grins, oblivious as ever to the grave danger he is in– to his rapidly hastening death.
“I love you too, Mister Stark.”