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He found himself picking apart that moment with a microscope.
Peter remembered very vividly the feeling of horror that overcame him when he grabbed Tony by the shoulders during the battle and really took him in. There was a very specific look to him that Peter couldn't quite put his finger on, but that dread that had been sitting heavy in his gut ever since he woke up on Titan, knew. He knew, all over his body, he knew.
The streaks of silver that were scattered about Tony's hair.
That sad, devastated, relieved look Tony stared at him with, as if he was the greatest thing, the greatest miracle to ever walk the Earth.
That distinct wisdom and grief that hid just behind his eyes that could only indicate one thing.
Come on, kid. It's been five years. They need us.
Five years.
And then, his brain overcompensated in the moment. He babbled uselessly. He tried to force down that familiar feeling of being able to feel every single atom in his body disintegrate into nothing, and he used Tony's sad, pitiful eyes as his anchor.
"Do you remember when we were in space?"
Tony's eyes glossed over with tears.
"A-And I got all...dusty?"
Tony smiled. It was real, it was genuine. It sure as hell wasn't one Peter had ever seen.
"And I-I must've passed out, because I woke up and...you were gone."
Tony's eyes widened ever-so-slightly at that. But he listened. He leaned forward. As if whatever Peter was saying to him was the most important information in the entire universe.
"But! But, Doctor Strange was there, right? And he was like..."
Tony let out a noise. If Peter knew any better, he would call it a sob. Or maybe it was a laugh. Whatever it was, it was followed by Tony scrunching up his face, like he was fighting some sort of urge inside of him. Maybe convincing himself that this was real. How was Peter supposed to know? He didn't even know what was going on, really, much less what was going on in Tony's head.
"It's been five years! Come on, they need us!"
Tony was definitely crying now. Not only crying, but moving forward. Moving toward Peter.
"And then, he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time--"
Peter did the hand motions to really make the words punch. But with his arms out, and his mind spinning at a hundred miles a minute, it didn't stop Tony from crashing into him, mumbling under his breath.
"Hold me, kid. Hold me."
"What are you doing-?"
And then, they were hugging. And Peter was staring ahead, confused, relieved, heartbroken, confused-
Sad. He felt sad.
And, Peter being Peter, almost wanted to make some sort of joke to fill the silence. He wanted laugh out loud and ask why this genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist was on the verge of bawling like a baby, he wanted to laugh awkwardly and ask why Tony dubbed this moment convenient to bear hug a fifteen-year-old kid, he wanted to ask, in his smart-ass way, "I thought we weren't there yet ?"
But he didn't. He couldn't. Because then, Tony was holding him righter. And his back was bouncing with sobs.
And suddenly, there was no battle. That persistent, annoying buzz that kept sending chills down his spine ceased to exist. It was just Peter and Tony, a man Peter felt like he no longer knew, holding onto each other for dear life. The only words he could manage seemed small and pathetic and weak.
"Oh. This is nice."
But maybe that was music to Tony's ears. Maybe he liked when Peter babbled to fill the silence. Maybe...
"Hey there, Spider-Boy."
Peter was abruptly shaken from his thoughts and forced back down to Planet Earth when a firm hand clasped his shoulder. He snapped his head up, body instantly relaxing at the sight of Tony. He was smiling down at him warmly before he was looking out in fascination, and if it weren't for that look, Peter probably would've forgotten where they were.
It was one day after the final battle. After Thanos had been once and for all properly finished. They were all at Tony's lake house. Peter hadn't believed that it was real until he was looking at it. Everyone was there. Or, at least, everyone that could fit either in Tony's house or on his land was there. Needless to say, the place was packed.
Peter made a rather sympathetic guess that the quaint little log cabin had most likely been planned to only ever occupy Tony, Pepper, and this...Morgan kid. This five-year-old, chubby-cheeked little girl that Peter was instantly floored by. She was cheerful, hilarious, and clever. She was everything her parents were and so much more.
Above all, she was introduced to Peter as his new little sister.
And that's when he had decided he needed to step outside for a breath of fresh air. Sensory overload, topped with the Earth's mightiest heroes and their booming voices, topped with a new toddler-sister, topped with an irrational, underlying fear that at any moment he could once again fade into nothing but dust...
He liked to think it was enough to make anyone panic. Not just the punk kid at the "Saved The Day Again" party.
But of course Tony would notice. He probably made a beeline through the crowd of people in his living room and followed Peter outside to the lawn overlooking the lake. This new Tony that Peter knew absolutely nothing about probably sensed Peter's absence with his all-seeing Dad eye.
"Oh, hey, Mr. Stark."
"Mind if I have a seat here?"
Peter scooted over on the grass, instantly cursing at himself in his head because it's grass, you dumb idiot, you don't need to scoot over, there's miles of it for him to sit on-
"We made a pretty good team out there yesterday, wouldn't you say, Mr. Parker?"
"I mean, I don't know about that, Mr. Stark. Seemed like you guys had already done most of the work. I was just the back-up."
"Let's just say we did," Tony quickly interjected, clapping Peter again on the shoulder. Peter looked up at him, his eyes trailing over sadly to the band-aid plastered against Tony's forehead, and then to the various scars that littered his face. "Hey, Pete, don't look at me like that. You didn't exactly walk away unscathed."
Peter frowned, glancing down to the sling that held his arm before he shrugged, continuing to stare out at the lake. He smiled slightly in content, admiring the sound of laughter coming from inside of the cabin, and the way the lake was sitting completely still, mirroring the rising moon and the darkening sky.
"You know, it's about to get really dark out here," Tony said, glancing back at the cabin as warm light illuminated the windows and the smell of something delicious began to intoxicate the gentle evening breeze. "I'd love to have you sit at the table with me, kid. Nothing would make me happier."
"I'm almost positive that there's no room for all of us, let alone me."
"No, no, of course not. I just meant it would be me, you, maybe Pepper, Morgan, and then maybe Happy and Rhodey and May at the dinner table. Those other chumps can eat out here in the dark for all I care. Oh, except, have you met Harley? He wasn't exactly a warrior on the battlefield yesterday, but he is a little smart ass. I figured you too would get along nicely, maybe have a laugh."
Peter snickered at that, glancing back at the cabin. He caught a glimpse of Happy laughing at something May said before touching her arm. He shuddered and looked away.
"What's got you in a funk, kid? C'mon, talk to me."
Peter let his eyes meet Tony's again, but he found that he couldn't hold the gaze for too long because Tony was still staring at him like he was some kind of miracle. Like he shouldn't be here, but he was, and now he was like some sort of odd man out, having to scramble back into this new, completely foreign reality, and he was going to have to get used to Tony always hugging or touching him with every chance he got, and he was always going to have to deal with that look of love and adoration that Peter had only ever seen in one other man before, and that man was dead because of him, and-
"Pete. Please, kid. I'm worried over here."
Peter let out a sigh, lying down on his back so that he could see the stars. He shuddered after a moment, closing his eyes and swallowing thickly and trying to form some kind of coherent sentence that would make sense to this complete stranger before him.
"I have FOMO."
"...What?"
"FOMO. Fear of missing out. I've always had it, really bad."
"Oh."
A pause. Tony chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought before lying down on his back and rolling his head over to stare at Peter, to anticipate the words that would inevitably escape the kid's walls.
"I'm pretty sure that's the main reason I stuck to the side of the ship that day. And, I-I had this gross feeling in my stomach that I probably wasn't going to be coming back home. I mean, my Spider-Sense can't see into the future, but it can warn me when something I really don't want to happen is about to happen, like a-a bullet or a punch to the face or stuff like that."
Tony stared at him with dread. He didn't need to hear this. He didn't need to hear about how he'd failed his kid again. He'd heard enough from himself for five consecutive years.
"And then, I'm on this planet, billions of miles away from Earth, away from May, and that bug lady is saying that something is happening, and it starts. And I can...I can feel every second of it, every atom of myself...w-whatever, you get the gist. I died. It's over. I came back, and five years had passed, and nothing was the same, and now I feel like I shouldn't be here."
"No, Peter, hey--"
"I feel like I don't belong here, Mr. Stark. My life, this entire planet, feels...off its axis, y'know? And I thought...I thought maybe coming here, being with you guys, maybe that would set me straight and I would get over myself already. I wouldn't be missing out on anything, I would suck it up, and I would have a good time, and I would meet your...your daughter. And I would realize that there's nothing to be upset about."
Tony continued to stare. It was strange, the way the anticipation seemed to be killing him, yet he was patient, like he could sit there and listen to Peter talk forever.
"But it's like my senses have been dialed to twenty," Peter's voice cracked, "and I feel like any second this will all go away. I'm afraid that maybe this isn't real, and I'm just back on Titan, and you're gone, moving on down here and creating this wonderful life, and at any moment I'm going to disappear again, and I'm just going to be...stuck."
"Peter," Tony choked out, and for some odd reason it occurred to Peter that Tony had never called him that before. "Peter, I...Yes, kid, I moved on. A lot of people did. We had to. You have to understand, buddy, it was killing me, carrying you around with me like I did. I had to let you go, and I'm sorry."
"No, god, no, Mr. Stark, I'm not angry or upset with you for building a life here without me. You had every right to. Look, I just...I know you're not my dad, and we're not related, but...it's five years in the future now, and everything is different. And that look you're giving me...You're looking at me like you're my dad. Like you're Uncle Ben. And before all this happened, I was starting to look at you that way, too. But now...I dunno. I'm afraid you've moved on and you don't want me around you or your family."
If Tony looked wrecked with grief before, he was crumbling now.
"Peter...I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry, kid. I realize I'm overstepping, but I-"
"No. Let me finish," Peter frantically assured him, and Peter half expected Tony to retaliate with the usual "don't interrupt me when I'm complementing you, kid," but that was just another thing he had to remind himself to get used to.
That biting, ruthless sarcasm was almost completely gone, having been replaced by unwavering adoration and love.
"I'm not mad at you. You brought me back from the dead. You brought me back to Earth. You gave me back to May. You gave me a suit. You made me feel protected. But..."
Peter sat up with a huff. Tony sat completely still, eyeing him in concern.
"Fate gave me these powers. Fate brought us together. Fate also killed me, like, completely random. And I guess it just wouldn't surprise me if fate decided to do the same to me again, to everyone I love, right when I think I might've finally got it right. Fate can just...turn this all to dust again. And I really, really want this to be real, Mr. Stark. Please, tell me it's real."
And suddenly, at full force, Thanos' words were ringing in Tony's head, bouncing around the corners of his skull.
You could not live with your own failure. Where did that bring you?
"Kid," Tony stood his ground, reaching over and cupping Peter's face with one hand. That same look remained plastered to his eyes, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Peter's face scrunched up like he was holding back a sob at the gesture. "Listen to me, kid. Yes, okay, five years have passed. They were long and kind of awful. Things are different now. It may seem like I've packed you away and shut you in a box, but you're here, Peter, at my home. You've been living in this cabin since we moved in, haunting me. I have a different life now, but my feelings toward you haven't changed one bit. I still don't think I made a mistake in choosing you. I saw something that gripped me and I just knew that I wanted you by my side, in my lab, stopping bad guys, whatever it is. And I haven't set foot in a lab since you left me, kid, because I'm not as good at-at anything as I am when I'm doing it next to you. And that's the truth."
A tear fell down Peter's cheek, then another, and another. Tony found himself brushing them away with the pads of his thumbs, like it was an instinct.
"This is real, kid," Tony said, his voice soothing and gentle. "If it isn't, then all of this has been for nothing. None of this would be possible without you, kid. Not a single part."
"Thank you," Peter said in relief, as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Thank you, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."
"Shut up," Tony replied with a smile, pulling Peter into a hug and rubbing his back in soothing circles. "From now on, crime-fighting spiders aren't allowed to apologize to genius billionaires ever again. Deal?"
"Yeah, okay, deal," Peter laughed, closing his eyes as he wrapped his good arm around Tony, taking a fistful of the man's shirt.
"Daddy!"
Both of them were pulling out of the hug as Morgan came bounding toward them from the house, a grin plastered to her small, chubby face. Peter was actually genuinely happy to see her this time around.
"Why hello, Morguna. Is dinner ready yet?"
"Yep, Mommy wanted me to come get you. She also told me that you guys shouldn't be out here without bug spray."
"Oh, that's not a problem for me, Morgan," Peter said, rising to his feet. "My blood is radioactive, so if a mosquito wants a taste of me, they have to die."
"What?!"
"Peter," Tony stood, flicking Peter's ear. "We don't say such awesome things to Morgan. Her brain is too little to comprehend them."
"I can too....compleehend...awesome things! I want my blood to kill bugs like Petey's!"
"Petey, now, is it?" Tony teased with a knowing smile, clapping Peter on the back as he hoisted Morgan up on his hip. "I like that one, Morguna. I think that one will stick for sure."
"Petey? Really?" Peter rolled his eyes, though the grin never left his face. "Eh, you know what, whatever. It beats Spider-Boy."
"Spider-Boy!" Morgan cheered, clapping her hands together excitedly. "And I will be..Spider-Girl!"
"Well, Pete, your wish came true," Tony smirked as they walked up the steps to the cabin patio. "This is painfully real."
"Yeah," Peter smiled warmly, stepping inside the cabin door and being overcome with warmth, the sound of people cheering Tony and Peter's name excitedly, the smell of a home-cooked meal, and the feeling of May's lips on his cheek.
This is real.