Work Text:
Tony wakes up with a start, as if he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep.
He groans as he works a crick in his neck, blinking as he takes in his surroundings.
It’s a pink tent, designs all etched across it that look familiar to him - blinking a few more times as he tried to make sense of where he was.
Of all the places Tony had ever woken up, the inside of a Barbie play tent wasn’t exactly the weirdest. But Tony was at a loss for how he’d ended up here in the first place.
The tent itself isn’t big enough to hold him, the entrance ending at his torso as he looks around - a few crayon drawings taped up to the sides.
This… wasn’t where he was supposed to be - both practically and metaphorically - Tony’s mind trying to come up with an explanation for where he was.
Yet his memories are hazy and distant, like trying to hold onto water droplets as it slips through his fingers - an unexplainable pain in his chest the more he tried to dwell on it.
“Grandpa Tony!” He hears a voice loudly whisper, “Are you still sleeping?”
Tony freezes - shimmying out of the tent as best he can, the ache in his chest growing as he does.
Tony had been called many things in his life - some good, most bad.
Grandpa had never been one of them.
When he’s out of the tent, he pauses at the little face in front of him - his eyes widening as he takes the kid’s appearance in.
The child in front of him can’t be more than four years old, light brown skin and a mess of curls that nudge at something in Tony’s gut.
He looks… familiar, in a way that Tony can’t even begin to explain - wondering if this was one of Morgan’s school friends who had mistaken him for someone else.
Yet it’s the big brown eyes blinking at him, staring straight into his soul that causes Tony’s breath to catch, swallowing something down in his throat as the kid says, “Grandpa Tony, what are you doing?”
“I…” Tony says, feeling at a loss for words as he reaches a hand out on instinct, cupping his hand to the cheek of a kid that couldn’t possibly exist.
This wasn’t a case of mistaken identity, not for the kid to see his face and still call him grandpa - something that just causes the lump in his throat to grow bigger.
He brushes his thumb against the little face in front of him, proving to Tony that the kid in front of him was real - even if there’s something whispering to him in the back of his mind that it isn’t.
Flashes of green, blues and yellow pass over his memory, distantly remembering his name being called out as he brings his hand down.
He had been… fighting, he knew that much - but where and when, Tony doesn’t know, blank spots in his memory as he gently asks, “What’s your name?”
The little face in front of him turns from curiosity into a frown, furrowing his eyebrows in a way that just makes Tony want to laugh as he says, “It’s me, grandpa. Did you fall down and hit your head again?”
Tony shakes his head - trying to understand how the hell this was happening yet not wanting to question it, the best dream he’d had in years as he says, “Yeah, yeah, you know me. Clumsy.”
The kid in front of him looks at him up and down skeptically, eyes narrowing at Tony like he doesn’t believe him.
“Why don’t you take me to your mom and dad?” Tony asks, hoping that maybe this will give some kind of clarity to… whoever this child was and wherever he could be.
The truth is right there at the edge of his fingers, just out of reach as the kid nods, a smile replacing the frown as he says, “That’s why I woke you up. Daddy said you’ve been sleeping too long.”
Something else nudges at Tony then, like hearing whispers and voices in the distance - only to shake his head as they all fade away.
Tony lets himself be pulled up, his whole body feeling like it was screaming at him as he stands up - quickly glancing around the room that he’s in.
It’s a playroom, or something similar - the Barbie tent in the middle just one feature among the variety of toys, knick knacks and pictures that surround the room.
Tony’s mind goes into overdrive, trying to figure out where he is when his eye catches on one picture in particular - the frame clearly created by a child that says “MOMMY AND DADDY”
The little hand in his tugs him forward but Tony’s immobilized, walking towards it on instinct as the kid says, “Grandpa Tony?”
Tony holds his breath as he walks towards the picture, his mouth dropping in shock as he feels tears start to form.
It’s Peter - holding what Tony can only imagine is the kid tugging at his hand as a newborn, a beautiful woman that looks vaguely familiar to Tony smiling up at the two of them from her hospital bed.
Tony lets out a sharp exhale, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the picture - seeing the tint of grey all along the side of his hair as the kid tugging at his hand says more impatiently, “Grandpa Tony, come on . Daddy’s waiting for us.”
He turns to him, his heart leaping up into his throat as he says, “Daddy?”
Peter - Tony’s mind supplies, feeling his heart start to race with a hope that he hadn’t felt in years, looking out to the open door.
He hears it then, the clattering of pots and pans - voices chattering back and forth that brings a smile to Tony’s face.
Tony looks back down to the child in front of him, laughing as the kid pulls at his hand again.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Tony nods without saying a word, going to move forward only for the world around to shimmer - feeling a tug in his gut that roots him into place.
“No, no, no, no, please—“ Tony says to no one, the fear that all of this had just been a dream coming back into full effect as the kid in front of him frowns.
“Grandpa Tony?” The little voice asks, Tony going to say something more only for him to disappear - the whole room shifting until all Tony can see is shades of orange and yellow.
“No!” Tony says a little more frantically, taking a few steps forward to try and exit the playroom - to get to Peter - only for everything to disappear completely, letting out a shuddered breath as he looks around.
It’s as if he was standing in the middle of a lake, a small gazebo in the middle of it with a figure standing in the center.
Tony walks forward, fingers flexing for a gauntlet that isn’t there as his memories rush back to him.
The battle. Thanos. The destroyed Compound. Strange’s haunted look as he’d held up one finger.
Tony had made a rush for the gauntlet, a sense in his gut - in his soul - that this was what everything had been for, only for Peter to come out of nowhere.
He’d cried out to Peter, flying forward as Peter lifted his hand - the stones making room in the nano suit that Tony regretted making the instant he saw it - and snapped.
Yet Tony could remember that he’d gotten there just in time, his hand braced against Peter’s shoulder the moment Peter snapped his fingers - staring into Tony’s eyes with a look that held a mixture of bravery, fear and defiance all in one.
Everything turned white then - waking up in a pink Barbie tent that was gone just as quickly as it had come - freezing when he saw who was standing in the middle of the gazebo.
“Who are you?” Tony asks cautiously, taking a few more steps towards the unknown child that had disappeared only moments before.
“A promise,” the child answers, the thought occurring to Tony that this wasn’t a child at all as he continued, “of a world to come.”
“I don’t understand,” Tony says, the child smiling at him.
“You won’t. Not for many years. Or maybe not at all. We all have our choices, Tony Stark. You can choose as well.”
Tony absorbs that for a beat before asking, “Where’s Peter?”
The child grows somber, pressing his lips together as he says, “As I said before, we all have choices to make.”
“Listen, I don’t care about your choices or whatever the hell you're talking about,” Tony says, feeling emboldened now that the spots in his memory have faded, “where’s Peter?”
The child just smiles at him again, a sense of longing on his face as he says, “He has a choice, just as you do. It is time for you to decide.”
“Decide? Decide what? I don’t—“
But before Tony can say another word, he feels it - a pull in two different directions.
On one side he hears it - voices clamoring over each other, beeping and a pain that creeps along his arm as he gasps.
Yet to the other there’s peace - a sense of calm, of rest , that even in the few milliseconds that he felt it, Tony wants to dwell in it forever.
He looks to the child, understanding now the choice that’s presented to him - the crushing weight of Pepper’s words to him back in the cabin a few weeks ago coming back to him.
“But would you be able to rest?”
Peter snapping his fingers, Tony connecting himself just in time… the world around him starts to come more into focus, the realization hitting him square in the chest.
“Am I dead? Is Peter—“
“Make your choice, Tony Stark,” the child interrupts, looking solemn as he says, “Peter has already made his.”
Tony’s heart skips a beat at that, taking a step forward. “Is he…”
Tony trails off, guessing correctly from the look on the child’s face that who or whatever it is - it wouldn’t be telling Tony the truth.
He tries to absorb the magnitude of what he was being asked, everything snapping into place as he thinks.
The choice to live was an easy one - Pepper and Morgan waiting for him to come home incentive enough.
Yet there’s something that breaks within Tony at the thought of Peter making a different one, to choose to live if Peter had not - permanently separated in a way Tony knows deep in his soul could never be undone.
Yet the appearance of the child in front of him - a promise , they’d called themselves - gives him a renewed sense of hope.
Tony has no way of knowing the extent of the damage from the gauntlet that Peter had endured. But he can only hope that whatever this place had shown him, it was enough that Peter would choose to live too.
Tony remembers the relief at seeing Peter again after five long years - another truth quietly whispering to him.
The Peter Parker he knows would never give up, no matter what obstacles were thrown in front of him.
Peter would choose to live - a hope that Tony holds onto as the child stares.
There’s a roar in the distance, a wave forming in the distance that’s reminiscent of a tsunami - Tony glancing to it yet feeling no fear.
He turns back to the child, a million questions at the tip of his tongue.
The child just smiles, Tony’s heart clenching at how familiar it is.
It’s the last thing he sees as the wave engulfs him, closing his eyes and letting the wave carry him away.
“He’s waking up.”
“Tony? Can you hear me?”
“Tones, you with us?”
Tony groans, hearing the beeping in the background as he tries to move his head.
“Stop… yelling,” Tony mutters, hearing the soft chuckles of those around him as he blinks one eye open.
He’s in some kind of medical room, the hum of something metallic in the background all fading away when he sees Pepper’s watery smile, leaning into the hand she places to his face.
“Hey Pep.”
“Hey,” she says, rubbing her thumb across his cheek.
Tony blinks a few more times, looking around to see Rhodey and Happy - only for his heart monitor to race and his stomach to drop when he notices who isn’t there.
He turns back to Pepper - a brief, horrifying second passing where he wonders if he had chosen wrong - only for Pepper to smile and bring her hand down as she says, “Peter’s okay. He’s with Morgan.”
The relief is instantaneous, letting out a sharp laugh as he shakes his head.
“He’s— but the gauntlet—“
“He’s a strong kid, Tones.” Rhodey says with a smile, folding his arms as he smirks, “Doctors here say he could’ve taken the full brunt of it without a problem, cause of his enhancements.”
“You on the other hand,” Happy chimes in, “not so much.”
“You know me, can’t let anyone steal my thunder,” Tony jokes, catching both Happy and Rhodey’s eye roll as Pepper sighs.
“I’ll let them know he’s really awake,” Happy says before exiting, Tony’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Really awake?”
Rhodey and Pepper share a look, Rhodey unfurling his arms as he says, “You’ve been in and out of it for a while. Talked a little.”
Tony goes to ask more only to pause when the double doors slide open - his heart clenching once again at who he sees walking in, hand in hand.
Morgan beams, her whole face breaking out into a smile as she rushes toward the bed - Peter, May and Happy following behind.
“Daddy!” Morgan yells, Tony laughing as she walks up to him. “You were asleep forever.”
“Hey kiddo,” Tony says, bringing a hand out to her before looking back to Peter - a surge of love rushing through him at the smile on Peter’s face.
“Pete.”
Peter smiles, Tony catching the tears in his eyes as he says, “Hey Mr. Stark. You… you came back.”
Tony doesn’t miss the confusion on Pepper’s face out of the corner of his eye, nor Morgan turning back to Peter and tilting her head.
Tony’s eyes are fixed on Peter - communicating everything neither of them can say in the moment.
It occurs to Tony that he had no way of knowing what Peter had experienced - if he had at all - a part of Tony wondering if it had all been a dream.
A promise , a voice in the back of his mind whispers - surrounded by the people he considered his family.
A family that for the first time in five years - finally felt whole.
“Yeah kid,” Tony says with a smile, feeling that same hope blossoming in his chest once more.
“I slept long enough.”