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“And I am… Iron Man.”
He snaps.
It’s quiet for a minute. The sounds of battle surround him, people screaming as they’re struck down, footsteps of the unluckier ones running away, the sound of his own beating heart, but he hears none of them.
And then Thanos starts to laugh.
He sounds like an idiot, to be quite honest, and Tony would’ve half-heartedly snarked about it if he wasn’t suddenly so preoccupied by the fact that Thanos was still fucking alive.
Because he specifically willed it to happen, he made sure to do it exactly how he was told, he had the stones…
The stones.
Tony looks down at his gauntlet. It’s empty.
Of course it is, because when could anything ever go easy for him.
Fend off your old mentor who wants to kill you Tony, ride a nuke into space Tony, harness the powers of the literal fucking universe to save the literal fucking universe Tony
His right side is burning, his head is scrambled and he just wants to fucking sleep.
“All right, big guy.” He wheezes, looking up at Thanos. “The hell’d you do to them?”
Thanos just sits down again.
“One way or another, the stones will always end up with me. I am-”
“Inevitable, yeah we get it.” Giant dried nutsack grape really getting on his nerves. Tony’s patented the irritating superhero one liner, it’s only cool when he does it.
But Thanos remains suspiciously still, he doesn’t have the stones.
Which is when he hears Rhodey’s shout over his half-dead intercom.
“He’s got the stones!”
“What? Who?” Tony yells, forcing himself to stand up even though his entire right side screams in protest. He can’t let anyone else die for this.
“Peter.” Comes the staticky reply, and Tony swears he blacks out for a second.
What the hell.
This can’t be happening, he prays he hit his head or something and misheard because Tony just knows if the kid actually got the stones, he’s going to do it, going to put on the gauntlet and snap his fucking fingers to save the universe because he’s just that brave, that heroic, that strong, that stupid, he’d give up his life for all of them.
Which Tony will not stand for, no fucking way.
He brought back half the universe just so he could finally hug the kid, goddammit, he thinks literally inventing time travel earns him slightly more than the half hug he managed just a few minutes ago.
“My comms must be fried, sorry.” Tony says, trying his best to keep his voice steady. “Did you just say Peter?”
There’s a pause, and then:
“You better get down here Tony.”
Rhodey sounds defeated. In all his thirty years, five or take, of knowing the man, he’s been privy to a large assortment of his emotions. He’s seen Rhodey sobbing his eyes out at his mom’s funeral, seen him in horrible pain after the Big Accident, but each of those times he always came back with a sort of steely determination, not to be put down for too long.
He’s never heard his best friend sound so hopeless.
Tony’s in the air in an instant, the sharp pain in his side unimportant. He has to find Peter.
Tony finds him curled up on the floor a few hundred meters away from him, his right arm black with soot, burning. He looks like he could be asleep. Rhodey is sitting next to him, face ashen and gauntlet clutched tight in his hands.
“He did it.” Rhodey tells him, and Tony collapses.
Rhodey catches him, maneuvering him into a sitting position, his back resting against some rubble.
“Jesus.” Tony can’t bring himself to look at Peter, not when he looks the exact same as he did five years ago, back when his biggest problem was whether or not he should ask some girl out and not the entire fate of the universe.
“Is he..”
Rhodey’s face falls. “I can’t feel a pulse and his suit is busted, I can’t get any vitals.”
What the hell is he going to tell May? He let her kid die? That he let the fate of the entire universe, that indescribably enormous responsibility fall to her fucking fifteen year old kid? How would he ever face her again?
How would he ever be able to face himself again?
“How did he get them?” Tony hears himself asking. He can’t look away from Peter now that he’s started, how he looks like he could be sleeping if it wasn’t for the right side of his body.
Rhodey nods over at Strange, who’s cautiously approaching them.
Tony sees red.
“What the hell?” He yells, turning towards the doctor. “He’s a fucking kid, he didn’t, he shouldn’t-”
He forces himself up, grabbing the front of the wizard’s tunic, trembling with quiet rage. “Why?”
Strange holds up a finger. “There was only one way, Tony.”
He sounds so irritatingly calm, Tony is two seconds away from pulling his blasters on him.
He looks at Peter again, and he can’t stand anymore. He stumbles over next to Rhody, placing his hand on Peter’s scarred cheek.
“He shouldn’t have had to be the one to do that.” Tony says quietly.
“He’s not dead.”
Tony and Rhodey snap their heads towards Strange in almost comical unison.
“How can you tell?” Rhodey asks, checking Peter’s nonexistent pulse again.
Strange looks offended. “I’m a doctor, Colonel Rhodes.”
They keep staring.
“I’m also a wizard. Jesus Christ.”
“Do you even believe in Jesus?” Tony asks. Rhodey throws him a Look. “Can he be saved?” Rhodey asks Dr. Strange.
The wizard is quiet for a minute, which totally doesn’t freak Tony out, not at all. He’s calm and collected and also about to possibly throw up and die.
“Yes.” Strange finally says, and Tony nearly collapses with relief. “But it will be painful,” He continues, “for him and for his loved ones. This isn’t something that can easily be fixed.”
Tony will take what he can get. He can’t lose the kid, not again. “Please.” He asks quietly. “Do whatever it takes.”
Strange slightly inclines his head. “I give you my word.”
*
Peter wakes up in Mr. Stark’s garage. Or more accurately, he wakes up sitting in a car parked in what appears to be Mr. Stark’s garage, but it’s weirdly clean and it’s completely quiet, two things the garage is decidedly not.
He opens the car door and steps out. His mentor is sitting on a table, criss-cross applesauce hands in his lap, very still. Peter is immediately wary.
“Mr. Stark?”
He looks up. “Peter.” He replies. He sounds like he’s been crying.
“Are… are you okay, sir?”
Peter tries to figure out what’s wrong. He tries to remember what happened, but he can’t remember anything. He doesn’t know how he got there, doesn’t know what day it is, doesn’t know why Mr. Stark looks like he’s a day away from death and so incredibly upset.
Tony is quiet for a bit. He just stares at Peter, the crows feet beside his eyes heavily pronounced with sorrow.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He says finally.
“In the garage?” Because yeah, technically this is Mr. Stark’s personal garage, not the bigger one he usually works in with Peter. He’s only been allowed in twice, once because Peter had begged him to show him DUM-E and the other time because Mr. Stark missed a meeting and Pepper was going to “kill him dead” so he made them hide from her in his garage for six hours straight. They watched half a season of Real Housewives and then Pepper showed up, hit her husband over the head with a folder, took off her heels and plopped down on the sofa to join them. It was probably the best day of his life.
Mr. Stark sighs. “Sure, kid.”
It’s quiet for another minute, and Peter is kind of starting to freak out. He can’t remember anything and Mr. Stark is barely even looking at him, everything feels so off.
“Mr. Stark, I…” Peter trails off, unsure. “I don’t know what’s happening.
The older man sighs again. He pats the space next to him. “Come sit.”
Peter climbs up next to him, pulling his knees to his chest. “So.” He says. “What’s up?”
“Do you remember Titan?”
Titan? Peter thinks for a second, mind blissfully blank until it all comes rushing back to him, and he aches.
He remembers the spaceship, the weird orange wizard guy, being in actual space. He remembers Thanos, remembers the big asshole hurting Tony so much, nearly killing him.
He remembers… dying?
Suddenly, Peter can’t breathe. He doubles over, gasping, trying to inhale, but how can he when he remembers how it felt to be torn apart, atom by atom until he was just a pile of nothing?
And then Mr. Stark is holding him, rubbing his back and telling him to take deep breaths and calm down, so he calms down because when Tony Stark tells you to do something, you do it.
“Sorry.” He mumbles. He glances up at Mr. Stark who looks even more upset.
“Listen kid,” He starts, “you have to decide.”
“Decide what?” Peter feels like he’s missing out on something really big, something that’s just out of reach.
“If you want to live or not.”
What the hell.
Peter blinks. “I don’t understand.”
“Let me lay it out for you.” Mr. Stark holds out one hand to the side. “You live, you get to see your friends again, Aunt May, me.” He holds out his other hand. “You die, you get eternal peace. No more fighting bad guys, no more pain, you get to see your parents and your Uncle.” He drops his hands back in his lap. He looks pained.
Peter doesn’t get it. “Is this real? Am I dreaming this?” He pinches his arm and nothing happens, which doesn’t reassure him in the slightest.
“Of course you’re dreaming this, Peter, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” Mr. Stark is smiling slightly.
Peter gapes at him. “I thought you didn’t like Harry Potter!” He says accusingly. “Why do you have entire quotes memorised?”
“I never said I didn’t like it, I just said it’s completely unrealistic.”
Peter stares. “You’re a literal superhero. I swing around on buildings with webs that I made because I got powers when a radioactive spider bit me. We went to outer space to save a wizard from an alien, and you think waving wands is unrealistic?”
Mr. Stark actually laughs and Peter feels himself relax. He’s going to be fine, he has Tony.
“Do you want an apple?” Mr. Stark asks Peter, holding one out to him. Peter takes it. “Where did you even get that from?”
Mr. Stark gestures vaguely over in DUM-E’s direction and Peter stops chewing on it, wary. “Oh.”
“It’s unpoisoned, I checked.” He sounds amused.
Peter keeps eating. Tony watches him for a bit.
“I don’t wanna rush you kid, but you’re going to have to decide soon.”
Peter finishes the apple and throws the core at a trash can. It misses.
“I still don’t get it. Thanos snapped? Am I part of the population that got killed?”
He pauses, eyes growing wide. “Am I in an Infinity Stone right now? Is this some sort of test?” He’s still kind of unsure about the whole Infinity Stones thing, all his knowledge about the subject coming from a rushed five minute explanation by Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange. The wizard mostly just talked about how they’re all doomed and Mr. Stark paced back and forth swearing under his breath, his ridiculous flared track pants flapping around his ankles.
He’s watching Peter, his expression unreadable. “Yes and no. Thanos snapped, and you were one of the people that… disappeared. But then we killed Thanos and got you back so no harm done in the end.” It doesn’t sound like no harm was done.
Peter tries to absorb everything he’s telling him.
“Then Thanos came back and completely fucked shit up. Tried to snap away everyone, not just half. You got the stones from him and snapped instead. Saved us all.”
Well.
Peter… was not expecting that. He doesn’t comprehend it fully, still isn’t convinced he hasn’t hit his head and is having a very odd dream.
“Oh.” He says finally. “So I am dead?”
Mr. Stark sighs again, and Peter is suddenly struck by how old he looks. He’s let his hair go grey, his goatee isn’t really a goatee anymore - it’s more of a lazily maintained scruff. He’s got worry lines and more than a few wrinkles that he didn’t have before. He looks tired.
“That’s for you to decide.” He says, and Peter wants to scream. He doesn’t get what’s happening, he doesn’t want to decide, he wants to go to sleep. He’s semi-aware of a throbbing in his right side and it’s slowly getting worse.
“So if I choose to wake up, I see you guys again. And I like, live, which is a plus point.”
“But you’ll be in a lot of pain for a long time.” Mr. Stark interjects, and Peter kind of wants to roll his eyes because when is he not in a lot of pain?
“And if I choose to… not wake up, I just sleep? Forever?” It’s sounding good to him now, he’s feeling sleepier by the minute and the throbbing in his arm has gone from easily ignorable to Ow It’s Actually Hurting Now.
Mr. Stark nods. Peter can’t gauge his expression.
“You won’t see us again though.”
Peter is beginning to remember what happened after the snap. He remembers in flashes, Dr. Strange and Wong opening thousands of portals, stepping into rubble, smoke everywhere. He remembers, very barely, hugging Tony for the first time.
He doesn’t remember the stones.
He yawns.
“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter says through another yawn. “Can I take a nap for a bit?”
His mentor nods and Peter lets his eyes droop shut, only to fly open a second later, panicked.
“Will I die if I fall asleep?”
Mr. Stark nods again and Peter stares at him, aghast. “And you were just going to let me?”
“It’s your decision in the end, Pete.” He sounds defeated.
“You don’t give up that easily.” Peter says, feeling sick. “That’s not you.”
Mr. Stark shrugs. “I’m not really me and you’re not really you. You still need to decide.”
“Will you stop saying that?” Peter explodes, frustrated. He slides off the table, starts to pace. “This is so weird.” He gets a chuckle for that.
A few minutes later, Mr. Stark slides off the table too. “I need to go now, kid.” Peter whirls around, facing him, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He can’t do this without Mr. Stark, real or not. “What? Why?”
“It’s your decision to make.” He says again. “I was just here to help you.”
Peter gnaws at his lower lip nervously. “Will you- if I decide to live, will you be there when I wake up?”
Mr. Stark smiles down at him, and it’s him, the same guy he binged trashy reality TV with, built questionable tech with, the same person who considered him a son, who he considered a dad.
“Of course.” He’s at the door now, he looks so far away.
Peter nods, suddenly clear on what he has to do. “Okay, Mr. Stark.”
Mr. Stark opens the door and walks out.
*
Tony Stark is a lot of things. He’s a self proclaimed billionaire, playboy, philanthropist (which Pepper will never stop making fun of him for, he’s never going to forgive Bruce for telling her he said that), he’s a globally reclaimed superhero and not to toot his own horn, but he’s really damn smart.
He is not, however, a patient man.
Sure, building shit requires a certain amount of patience, making sure everything works perfectly, and he can deal with that most of the time.
But now? Being herded around the Wakandan hospital Peter is in, not being given any updates, having no fucking idea what’s going on, he’s about to lose it completely.
He’s pacing up and down the private waiting area he booked, ignoring Pepper’s attempts to get him to sit down and eat something. He knows she’s glad it wasn’t him, and he understands even though there’s no way he can relate. He watches Morgan, curled up fast asleep in a chair next to his wife, and his heart aches.
Without Peter, he wouldn’t have this. He sacrificed - no, nearly sacrificed his life for the entire universe, and Tony can’t save him.
His gaze falls on May, who’s fast asleep on Happy’s shoulder. She shouldn’t have had to go through this, shouldn’t have had to go through the fear of losing another loved one. She’s already lost enough.
“Tony.” Pepper says softly, and he looks at her. She’s tired, battle weary, her hair in a messy ponytail and clad in the pajamas she had on under the RESCUE suit. She’s never looked more beautiful to him.
“Come sit.” She pats the chair on her other side and he sits, resting his head on her shoulder.
“He’s going to be fine.” She whispers, kissing his hair. “He’s strong Tony, you know that.”
Tony shuts his eyes angrily, seeing spots behind his eyelids. “He shouldn’t have to be.” He says quietly. Peter should be worrying about college decisions and girls and normal teenage shit, not battling for his life because the fate of the universe landed on him.
They’re quiet for a bit. Tony drifts off to sleep.
He wakes up to Morgan climbing on his lap and snuggling into him. Pepper is asleep, head resting against the wall.
“Hey little lady.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead. “What’ve you been up to?”
“I played I Spy with Miss May, she’s really nice.” She tells him, pointing at May who’s awake now, talking to Happy. Not for the first time, Tony admires her strength. If anything happened to Morgan, he’d be a wreck. Hell, he can barely even function right now and he’s not even related to the kid, and there May is, soldiering through it all.
He sets Morgan down and takes out his tablet. He needs to check on Rhodey and the others, see how damage control is going. After Peter snapped, Strange opened one of his portals and herded a group of them to Wakandad, leaving behind the rest of the Avengers to deal with the destruction Thanos left behind. In the blink of an eye, the entire universe's population doubled, and while he’s beyond overjoyed to have everyone back, there’s a lot that needs to be done. He can’t bring himself to care about it though, Peter’s the only thing on his mind right now.
He watches Morgan run over to May out of the corner of his eyes as he clicks on Steve’s contact.
Steve fucking Rogers, who he grew up hearing stories about, who he idolised as a child, who left him bruised and bleeding in a bunker in Siberia, struggling to breathe.
They might have been able to regain some of the old rapport they had for a minute, when the world was at stake, but now that there are no Pym Particles to steal or cardiac arrests to cause, he’s not sure where they stand.
Maybe they can start with co-workers, he muses as he types out an email.
Dear, Steve
Hello, Steve
Steve
Rogers,
Strange got us to Wakanda, Peter’s in the hospital. Not sure how he is, still in surgery.
Let me know when we can talk.
Tony
He sends the email and looks up from his tablet just in time to hear Morgan ask, “If Peter dies, can you be my aunty instead?”
“Morgan!” Tony exclaims, rushing over to her.
May bursts into tears.
“I’m so sorry.” Tony tells her, scooping up his idiot child and walking quickly back to his end of the room, leaving May with a slightly bewildered Happy.
“You can’t just say things like that, Mo.” He says, placing her on a seat. “She’s really scared and sad right now, and saying stuff like that will make her even more sad.”
Morgan looks down at her knees. “I just wanted her to be my aunty too because she’s so nice and we have matching hair.”
“She can, baby, but no more talk about Peter dying okay?” The words get stuck in his throat, he can barely even vocalise the idea. “Can you go and say sorry to Miss May?”
Morgan nods, lower lip trembling, and runs over to May.
“I’m really sorry.” She says quietly. May says something back which Tony can’t hear, and reaches down and hugs her. Happy gives him a thumbs up and Tony looks away, relieved.
These children will be the death of him.
A doctor comes in about an hour later. May and Tony immediately rush to her.
“Peter is awake.” She says, and May starts to cry again.
“Oh my god.” He says, uncomprehending. “Oh my god.”
May goes into Peter’s room first, and comes back out fifteen minutes later, face streaked with tears and a huge smile on her face.
“He’s okay.” She whispers, sinking down onto a chair. “He’s on a bunch of pain meds and he’s kind of loopy, but he talked to me and he’s alright.”
Tony nearly cries with relief. The doctor tells him that Peter needs to rest for some more time before he can see anyone else, so May finally goes back to the guest house T’Challa set them up with to take a shower and Tony eats a sandwich.
“I told you he’d be fine.” Pepper grins, because even now she can’t resist a told-you-so. Tony very maturely sticks his tongue out at her which Morgan immediately copies, of course, and Pepper throws him a Look.
He loves his family.
Tony has to wait another three days until he can see Peter. The kid has been floating in and out of consciousness, hopped up on fifty different Super Soldier level pain meds, going from surgery to surgery.
On the second day, Pepper makes them go back to the guest house. He takes a fifteen hour nap on the couch with Morgan cuddled up to his side.
Strange calls him the next day. He hasn’t seen the wizard since The Attack, but the doctors assured him he hadn’t left Peter’s side since he was brought in.
Tony owes him one, probably.
“Stark.” The doctor says as soon as Tony picks up the phone. “The boy is asking for you.”
“Shit.” Tony can’t breathe. “Yeah, I’ll be there in like, a minute.”
He throws his phone aside and runs downstairs, passing Morgan and Pepper in the living room. “Peter’s asking for me!” He calls, grabbing his shoes and pulling them on his bare feet.
“How are you going to get there?” Pepper calls from the other room.
Tony’s already halfway out the door. “I’ve got a ride!” He yells back, activating his nanobots.
In hindsight, flying in the suit to the hospital wasn’t the greatest idea. The hospital staff aren’t exactly thrilled to have Iron Man crashing into the third floor window and accidentally shattering the little fish tank set up by the welcome desk. He spends five minutes grabbing the gasping fish and plopping them into a water bottle, and another two minutes arguing with the guy he grabbed the water bottle from.
“The fish were going to die!” He yells at the very angry looking person.
“I have diabetes, man!” The guy yells back, which makes no sense because how the hell is that even relevant?
“I have a heart problem!”
And then he pours the entire contents of his water bottle, colorful little fishes and all, on Tony’s head.
So he spends another five minutes putting the fishes in a water filled plastic baggie that a terrified looking nurse provides and tries very hard not to kill the stupid water bottle man.
He finally bursts into the waiting room with his helmet down, water dripping off his hair. Happy and May stare at him. Dr. Strange, seated in a floating orange bean bag near the door, barely looks up.
“There was fish, and a diabetic.” He explains, turning towards the wizard. “Peter was asking for me?”
Peter’s hospital room is bright. There are floor to ceiling windows, all with their blinds raised, and a frankly alarming number of overhead bulbs.
In the middle of all that light, like a little angel covered in IV lines and bandages, is Spider-Man himself.
Tony doesn’t know what to say.
“Hey.” Peter rasps. “What’s up?”
And suddenly Tony can speak. “What’s up?” He repeats, incredulous. “What’s up?”
Peter has the decency to look slightly abashed.
“You nearly fucking killed yourself like a complete idiot and all you say is ‘what’s up’?”
The kid starts to laugh, which is kind of insulting. He misses when Peter was too awestruck by his mere presence to do little other than stammer nervously.
“Aunt May’s going to be mad if I tell her you swore around me.” Peter is grinning, the little shit. Apparently not even a near death experience could dull his tongue. Yet another thing they have in common.
Tony flips him off. He’s standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, a good few feet away from the bed. Peter makes grabby hands at him, like some kind of overgrown toddler.
Which he basically is, Tony thinks.
He makes his way over to Peter, perching on the side of the bed. He smiles up at Tony, and his heart nearly bursts.
“Are you mad at me?” He asks.
“Oh yeah.” Tony replies immediately, and Peter deflates. “I’m furious, you have no idea.” He lets his hand drift over to Peter’s hair, softly carding through the singed curls. “But not really. I’m proud of you, kid.”
He doesn’t look at Peter, still feeling a bit awkward about the whole Being Honest And In Touch With Your Emotions Thing.
“You scared the shit out of me, Pete, but you did it. You literally saved the entire world.”
Peter hesitantly lets his head rest on Tony’s lap.
“The universe.” He mumbles.
“Hm?”
“The universe.” Peter repeats, louder. “I literally saved the entire universe.”
Tony laughs. “Yeah, you did.”
"Do you think that's something I can put on my college application?" Peter muses and Tony shakes his head in disbelief. He nearly died and he's thinking about college applications? This kid is something else. He's so full of affection for the Spider-Kid he thinks he might just burst.
"Maybe, kid. We'll talk about it later."
"Cool."
Peter is quiet for a minute, his eyes drifting closed. Tony thinks he’s asleep and tries to shift carefully off the bed when Peter grabs his hand, and ow, he forgot about the super strength for a second.
“M’awake.” He mumbles, snuggling closer to Tony. “Don’t leave.”
“I won’t.” Tony scoots down on the bed, laying down completely and Peter latches on to him like a koala.
“Mr. Stark?” He asks, voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah, kid.
“Did any new Star Wars movies come out when I was gone?”
“A couple.”
Peter bolts up. “A couple?” He doesn’t notice his IV getting tangled on the bed posts, but Tony does and he’s about to actually die.
“Peter please, for the sake of my old, fragile heart, lay down before I go into cardiac arrest.”
Peter rolls his eyes but obliges. “I need to watch them immediately.” He tells Tony, already drifting off to sleep again.
“Sure, kid. We’ll make a movie night out of it.”
Peter hums contentedly. Tony decides to close his eyes too, just for a little bit. He can finally rest.