Work Text:
Tony wakes up in a field. He doesn’t know how he got there, doesn’t know where it is, but he does know that he’s definitely not supposed to be alive.
He remembers snapping his fingers to save the world. He remembers watching Thanos and his army dissolve into the same dust that had tormented him for the last five years. He remembers each breath getting tighter, a numb cold surrounding his whole left side, but he sees Pepper and Peter, alive and whole with tears in their eyes, and he doesn’t regret his decision.
He remembers slipping away slowly, like falling asleep, and then—
Voices. There were voices. And a scene. But… it was muddled, all of it. He can’t remember what the place looks like. He can only remember flashes. A red braid, his mother’s smile, a hint of green at the corner of his eye. And warmth. He doesn’t know where he was. If it was heaven, or just his imagination, but he knows that wherever it was… he was happy.
And now… now he’s laying in a field in the middle of nowhere and there's dirt in his everything and his head pounds with a resounding headache but…
Pepper. He thinks. Morgan. Rhodey. Happy.
Peter .
Tony must be alive. He can feel his heart pounding in his ears. He can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. And even if he misses the fleeting image of peace. His family is here too. And he wants to see them. He needs to know that they’re okay, that his sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.
He stumbles to his feet, only to start when he finally takes in his appearance. The scars that decorated his hands from years of working with machinery and fighting those that would have him dead are gone, as though they were never there to begin with. Pulling up his nondescript grey shirt reveals unblemished skin where the scars from the shrapnel and arc reactor used to lay.
Whatever brought him back took away the memories painted on his body. He can’t help but feel disappointed, even though it’s a new start. That feeling turns to dread when he realizes all his calluses have turned to baby soft skin ( this isn’t going to be fun).
Refusing to waste more time, he dusts off his pants, says a quick prayer that there’s civilization somewhere, and heads off in no particular direction.
Tony wants to say his wife reacted well. He managed to catch a ride with an old guy who just wanted some company (leaving him with a reminder that picking up hitchhikers is very very dangerous) and walked the rest of the way to his lake house, praying his family is there.
He knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Pepper Potts-Stark looking as radiant as ever.
He smiles. “Pe—“ The RESCUE glove is suddenly wrapped around her arm and directed at his face.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Pep, it’s me.” He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step back.
“My husband is dead. I watched him die and I spread his ashes myself. Who. Are. You.”
Very carefully ignoring the whole part about his corpse being destroyed, he takes a breath.
“Look, I don’t know how I’m alive any more than you do. The last I remember, I had snapped and everyone was surrounding me. You—you told me I could rest, and I just…”
He shrugged and gestured around with his hands. Choosing to omit the potential heaven piece, he continued “Next thing I know I’m waking up in a random field and I knew I had to make it here somehow. I— oof!”
The breath is knocked out of him as he is suddenly wrapped in a crushing hug.
“Tony,” Pepper sobs, the sound more broken than he ever wanted to hear.
“Hey Pep,” he says softly, returning the hug. “Are we always gonna meet like this? First pepper spray now repulsers…”
If anything that only makes her cry harder.
She pulls away and wipes her eyes, smoothing down her shirt not because Tony would have cared but because she finds it easier to function when she looks the part.
“We uh, we didn’t release everything to the press. The world thinks you… died… right after snapping. The only people who knew about the rest are the Avengers. I don’t — I don’t know how you’re here, but I know it’s you. Maybe that’s stupid but—“
Tony shakes his head gently. “No one could ever describe you as stupid. I’m the stupid one. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone. Is—is everyone okay?”
Pepper smiles, eyes wet. “Everyone but you and Nat. Morgan is at school, Steve passed the shield off to Sam and has the rest of the world convinced he’s living in a nursing home so he can find some peace, Rhodey is off doing his own thing, he visits often though. Happy… his girlfriend passed away a few weeks ago but… he’s managing.”
“And…” Tony is almost afraid to ask. The old man hadn’t known much about Spiderman. He mentioned that his granddaughter loved him but had no idea what he was up to. However Tony had learned that his identity was still safe. “Peter?” he asks after a long pause. “How is he doing?”
Pepper pauses, pursing her brow, and Tony’s heart leaps into his throat. Something must be seriously wrong. Pepper had always loved Peter. She invited him in for dinner every time he and Tony had lab days, she was the one who added a room for him in the designs for their lake house, she knew how much he meant to Tony. She wouldn’t make him wait unless she had bad news to break.
“Tony…” she says slowly. “I— I don’t know who that is.”
The following conversation involves a lot of yelling, wild gestures, and overall confusion on both sides.
“What the hell do you mean you don’t know who Spiderman is?”
“No one does!”
“Yes they do! I do! May does!”
“May Parker?”
“Yeah!”
“Happy’s dead girlfriend?”
“WHAT?”
After a very confusing conversation, Tony slumps into a chair across from Pepper in the living room.
“So let me get this straight. You have no idea who Spiderman is, neither does Happy, or any of the Avengers. The only person who seems to have known, and his only living family, is no longer living. There was an incident at the Statue of Liberty which was supposed to get Cap’s shield added—which is literally so dumb—and the only witnesses, Peter’s friends Ned and MJ, claim to not remember anything about that night, and also have no obvious connection to Peter Parker. Spiderman is still Spidering, so he’s alive, but…” he takes a deep breath. “He’s completely alone.”
“You missed a part,” Pepper says and Tony can’t believe how lucky he is to have fallen in love with this woman and have her love him back. This incredible woman who took her husband’s return from the dead in stride and then supported him when he told her the entire world had forgotten a whole person. “Dr. Strange was there.”
Tony narrows his eyes. “Well then I think I know whose fault this is.” He moves to stand but stops when Pepper reaches out.
“Tony, are you sure you aren’t being a little rash?”
“What do you mean?” he says, careful to keep the anger out of his voice. Pepper doesn’t deserve his ire.
She bites her lip. “I just… What if Strange had a reason? I’m just not sure it's the best idea to go in there guns blazing. Maybe… maybe Spiderman turned or something. I don’t know.”
Tony sighs. It hurts his heart to hear Pepper talking about his kid like that. “I know you don’t remember him, Pep,” he says softly. “But I do. Peter Parker could never turn against the world. He’s loyal to a fault. The only reason he would ever hurt someone is if they hurt his family. He loves New York, he loves its people. He invented that web formula he uses when he was only fourteen. He once brought a puppy home to the Tower and begged me to let him keep it there because pets weren’t allowed in his apartment. He apologized to Dum-E for not finishing his motor oil smoothie. The kid… he’s the reason all this is possible. He’s the reason I didn’t run for the hills when I found out you were pregnant. He’s the reason I invented time travel. He’s family, Pep. And if you remembered him, you would say the same.”
Tony can’t decipher the look in his wife’s eyes. There’s love there, but it’s mixed with other emotions he can’t name.
“These past few weeks…” she says, intertwining their fingers. “Something has felt like it was missing. I thought I was just missing you, I thought I just needed a break, but… I think it’s this kid. It’s your kid. Our kid. I may not remember him, but I think I remember loving him.” She presses a kiss to his forehead. “Go bring our boy home, Tony. He needs you. Just remember to be home by dinner. Morgan needs her brother, but she needs her dad too.”
Tony wraps her in a hug and presses a gentle kiss to her lips, cupping her face in his hands. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
She smiles. “You don’t deserve me. I love you. Be careful.”
“I love you too. I will.”
She hands him the keys to one of their most discreet cars, conveying with a single look that having Iron Man make a sudden reappearance isn’t the best idea, and Tony accepts them with another sappy smile.
He’s got a kid to find.
Peter is so. goddamned. sick of himself.
It’s been three overwhelmingly lonely, incredibly stressful weeks since he turned to magic, got May killed, met himself, and convinced Dr. Strange (“Call me Stephen”) to cast the spell that would erase Peter Parker from existence.
Since that fateful day he’s had no one but himself (and the rats he can hear living in the walls of his crappy apartment, but he was pretty sure they didn’t count) to keep him company. He’d dropped out of Midtown (not that he’d needed to since they had no record of him ever attending) and found a few odd jobs to support his apartment that was definitely not worth the price he was paying for it, and that was how he spent his time.
It was a nightmare. He could hear every sound his neighbor’s made through the thin walls, and his enhanced hearing meant that he heard all of their neighbors too.
He tries to ignore the sounds of anger and cooking and sex (literally so much sex. why were so many people always having sex??) but sometimes it was just too much.
When that happened, he would slip on his suit (spandex rather than nanobots or thick material with wires running up and down designed to keep him safe. simple and breakable and altogether worth nothing more than keeping his identity safe.) The city was louder than his apartment, but these sounds he could handle. These were the sounds of cars driving, pedestrians talking, people singing, and other sounds that he’d grown up hearing and had learned to love. Sounds that made up his city.
Pedestrians wave up at him from the streets, sometimes asking for a picture. The guy working the hot dog stand on the street (his name was Mr Marcus) always gives him a free hot dog if he stays and talks for a bit. There’s a couple that does daily walks with their dogs and always let him pet them (two big dogs that are not afraid to trample him with love and kisses). It makes it a little easier.
The neighborhood Peter lives in is far from his old home with May. The people are different, as is their attitude. It could very well be a completely different city. It makes it easier to forget everything he’s lost.
He’s sitting on a rooftop with a complimentary churro from someone whose sister he’d saved once when he feels it.
The tug in the back of his head and ringing in his ear that suggests something is happening. Never known to be the smartest, he shoves the rest of his churro in his mouth and very nearly chokes trying to swallow it. Pulling his mask back down under his chin, Peter leaps off the edge of the building and lands on another, running across rooftops rather than swinging.
He doesn’t have an easy way to get more web fluid, so it’s easier to just conserve what he has. Just another thing he’s had to sacrifice since the spell.
The air around the Sanctum is vibrating. Peter doesn’t think anyone else can see it, since people are just walking on by, but it's making his head hurt. Something is happening there. Something important.
He lands on a black car that’s way too nice to be parked out on the street like it is and glares inside. He knows this isn’t the smartest decision he could make, but the feeling is overwhelming. He leaps off the car and lands in front of the door. Pausing only for a moment, he considers the stupidity of what he’s about to do before he can’t help it anymore, and he slams the door open.
“Well this is unexpected,” Strange says unceremoniously as Tony barges into the Sanctum.
“Yeah yeah, I’m not dead, whatever. What did you do?”
Strange raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of whatever is in the mug he’s holding. Tony wants to dump whatever it is over his head.
“I assure you, Stark, I did not bring you back to life.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. What did you do to Peter?”
Strange has the audacity to look confused.
“Who?”
Tony growls in frustration. “Peter Parker? You know, Spiderman? Helped us defeat Thanos? You did something on the Statue of Liberty a few weeks ago and now no one remembers him.”
Strange pauses for a long moment before turning and gesturing for Tony to follow him. His cape flutters behind him dramatically, and Tony fights the urge to roll his eyes.
Strange leads them to a library, an extensive space that Tony itches to explore, knowing full well that it's full of all sorts of information about magic and the likes.
Strange floats a random book into his hands, flipping through the pages.
“I can’t think of why I would have cast this spell, but there is one that fits what you’re describing.” He points to a page in the book, and looks up at Tony. “This spell would make it so the entire world would forget about something. I’ve never used it on a person, and I don’t know why in the world I would, but it would explain why you remember this kid and no one else does. You technically weren’t on earth when it was cast.”
“Is there any way to know for sure if this is what’s happening?”
Strange snorts. “Ask him. Normally, the spell would affect everyone besides the caster, but it is possible to make it so the only person who remembers is someone else. Considering I’m the one who cast and he’s the one being forgotten, I’ll assume I gave him the right to remember that he exists.”
“How do I find him?” Tony says, desperate. “He— I don’t exactly want the whole world knowing Iron Man is alive, and I don’t think it’ll be easy to find someone who doesn’t exist.”
Strange raises his hand and the book flies back towards the shelf, another flying forward to replace it.
“I have a summoning spell. I assume you don’t want me making a portal directly to him, since there’s a high chance he’s not alone, but this one will just give him an intense feeling that he needs to come here. It should be pretty hard to resist. He might get fired if he’s supposed to be working, but I doubt that would be an issue.”
“Cast it,” Tony says. “Please. I… I don’t want him to be alone any longer than necessary.”
Strange raises an eyebrow. “I will. Just… don’t get your hopes up. Whatever made me cast the original spell… I wouldn’t have done that without a reason. Don’t trust that Spiderman is going to be the same person you remember.”
They’ve cleared up the snow.
Its a stupid thought, but it’s the first one Peter has when he walks in. There’s no one there at the moment, and Peter pauses, his heart hurting at the reminder of a pain that hadn’t had the chance to scab over yet. He wishes MJ were here this time. She would make some stupid, snarky comment and everything would feel a little easier.
The feeling intensifies, and Peter puts his fingers over his webshooters. Not enough to fire, but enough to be prepared.
He’s debating whether or not he should flee when someone makes the choice for him. He hears footsteps running toward him from upstairs.
“Peter!” a voice cries, and he tenses.
“You,” he says, voice low and deadly.
How dare he? How dare he taunt him like this? After everything Peter has endured, now he has to deal with Mysterio’s return?
He flings a web at the imposter, who jumps aside, then runs up the stairs at him. He’s so wrong. His hands are devoid of scars, his face bare of his iconic glasses, but Peter can’t help but wish he could collapse into those familiar arms, even though he knows it’s all a lie.
His spider sense (“You know, your Peter tingle!”) stops burning out of nowhere and he unwillingly relaxes.
Dr. Strange appears down the hall.
“Stop!” he commands.
“That’s not Tony Stark!” he shouts back. “His name is Quentin Beck and I don’t know how he’s alive but—“
“Underoos!”
Peter freezes. Suddenly he’s fifteen again and the most important thing is Tony Stark’s approval.
“Pete,” the man says, and he’s begging, he’s begging for Peter to listen. “I don’t know what you’ve been here this past year and I don’t know how I’m alive but it’s me. It’s Mr. Stark. Whoever hurt you… they’re not here. I promise. It’s okay bambino . You’ll be okay.”
Peter finally registers that, with Dr. Strange stopping whatever he was doing, his spider sense has gone silent. There’s no tingle in the back of his head, no little whisper reminding him to keep his guard up. It’s just… quiet.
“Mr. Stark?” he says, hating how his voice breaks. He’s seventeen but he feels like a little kid again.
“Peter,” Tony says, and Peter rips his mask off and flings himself forward into a hug. Tony presses a kiss to the top of his head, the same way he did during the second battle with Thanos, and Peter is suddenly fighting back sobs. He’s grown over the past year, and Tony is now only an inch or two taller than him, but it doesn’t change the way he melts into his arms. It doesn’t change the feeling of peace and comfort and love.
“You remember me?” he says, so quietly even he barely hears it.
He feels Tony nod over his head. “I remember you bambino, and I’m not gonna let you be on your own. Not ever again.”
And everything is okay.
“Not that I don’t appreciate this incredibly heartfelt moment,” Strange interrupts. “but could you maybe have it somewhere else?”
Tony is prepared to yell at him, but Peter laughs, the sound wet and unsure.
“Yeah, um. Yeah. Thank you, Dr. Strange, sir. Really.”
“Call me Stephen,” the man says, before blinking and furrowing his brow. He shakes his head.
“Right. Thanks, uh, thanks Stephen.”
“That feels weird but I’ll allow it.”
“Deja vu,” Peter mutters quietly, and Tony doesn’t think he was meant to hear it. His kid looks much older than seventeen. The bags under his eyes are as dark as Tony’s were after Afghanistan, and he finds himself wondering what happened and if he even wants to know.
“Come on kid,” he says, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Let’s go home.”
Peter’s smile is strained, but it’s there.
Tony sets the car to drive itself, sitting in the back with Peter. He normally stays in the front seat even with the car driving itself, just to be safe, but his kid needs him, and Tony isn’t leaving his side until he has to.
“I’m gonna be late for work,” Peter whispers after a few minutes of them sitting in silence with Tony running his fingers through his hair.
“Quit,” Tony says. “As of right now I’m hiring you.”
“Hmm. What would my responsibilities be?”
“Well, it would be nice to have someone designated to feeding Gerald. And you will be required to babysit of course. My lab has been completely packed away, and I’m very old and weak so I’ll need a strapping young man to put it back together with me.”
Peter huffs out a hint of a laugh. “Wow, that’s a big offer. I’ll have to think it over for a bit. I have a few other offers to consider.”
“I’ll double anything they offer you. And throw in weekly movie nights.”
Peter is silent for a moment and Tony worries that he’s ruined this stretched out, careful thing.
Then he whispers. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. I missed you.”
“I missed you too bambino.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “Call me Tony.”
“Hmm. No thanks.”
“Asshole,” Tony said, the fondness in his tone giving away that he didn’t really care.
He shoots Pepper a quick text.
Me: I’ve got him. He’s ok but he’s definitely been through some shit
Pepper: I’ll order some pizza
Me: order a lot. he’s got an enhanced metabolism (t hink steve) and i doubt he’s been eating enough
“Tony?” Peter says, and while he’s tempted to comment on the name usage, the meek tone stops him.
“Yeah?”
“What’s gonna happen now?”
“Well, I’m taking you back to the lake house. Pepper is ordering some pizza for us, and we’re gonna hang out. If you want, you can tell us what you’ve been up to, but you don’t have to. Pepper is going to go pick up Morgan from school, and then you will be expected to hang out with her because she is a demon with far too much energy.”
“I…” The kid starts. He doesn’t continue for a long time. Tony . “Thank you. I don’t — I don’t know how much longer I could’ve done this alone. I just—”
“You’re not alone anymore, bambino. I promise. We’re gonna be okay.”
Peter sat up, looking him in the eye, and Tony found himself, once again, wondering what had happened to his kid in the past year. But he could see him in there, hidden beneath layers and layers of pain and sorrow and suffering that Tony was all too familiar with.
“Yeah. I— I think we will be.”