Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today was gray. As a previous day and a day before yesterday and well it seems like you caught the point. It was raining. Again. Peter Parker was already tired of putting his wet clothes on a heating radiator which was actually invariably cold but each day Peter came to his apartment he was full of hope that this day it'd work and each day he fell asleep in a freezing room covering himself by all blankets he could find in this filthy pit. One day the amount of dry clothes had just ended. That meant that Peter had to dress up in still a little bit wet jeans with a sweatshirt and went to work in a disgusting mood.

According to the documents, Peter Parker was seventeen, and outwardly he looked like a simple high school student who was fond of sports. Unaware people could say he's just a kid, a teen, representative of the lost generation, you know how some old people like to claim the younger ones. But actually those who knew this guy – Peter Benjamin Parker – certainly have never thought about such superficial things. Eventually, he was a fighter who fought against Capitan America at fifteen and then went a long way to realizing the hero's heavy burden. Who went through the war at sixteen, seeing how the brave men, desperately fighting for their land, fell lifelessly on the battlefield. Who lost all his loved ones at seventeen and stood at their grave and mourned countless times who left this world of the soul. At least he was a little underrated genius, capable of great discoveries in physics, and yes, yet he was seventeen. 

He was the same age when he lost his last support – his aunt. He was the same age when he realized that he had no right to drag his friends into his terrible life. He was the same age when Peter rented a small apartment in a not so good district and got a job, hoping to pay bills on time and feed himself at least something.

Seventeen.

“Parker!” 

“Yes, Mr Robins, sir” the guy sighed heavily, trying to absorb fatigue, not wanting to show his exhaustion.

“Walk along the laboratory on the first floor” the bearded man pointed to the guy at the door that led to the corridor, escorting Peter to work some more. “I'll add a little to your salary.”

“Yes, sir, okay, I'm already on my way” , tightly closing his eyes to recover, Parker trudged into the laboratory, which he had not been allowed into before. Perhaps they were afraid that a clumsy child would crush it without proper supervision.

The thing is, Peter was a damn genius. And it would be really funny if it weren't for the fact that it was now his reality. The previous life was near him every day, every minute of his existence. He couldn't make a coffee without a memory about awful attempts of May to make it right. When he flew over Queens he remembered his walking with Ned and MJ. He was full of memories of his past and it dug him deeper and deeper. 

Peter winced as he opened the door to the empty room. The working day was over for even the most zealous workaholic, all the scientists slept in their homes and had wonderful dreams, while one boy was working on the night shift along with the last person left in the building – Mr. Robinson. This man could not be driven out even by the war, which, according to rumors, he perfectly demonstrated a year ago. Peter pressed his hand tightly against his stomach, grimacing. A deep wound, bleeding since last night, did not want to disappear by magic. Alas, saving on food did not contribute to the regeneration of the superhero in the best way, and a portion of noodles from the eatery next to the house, which was eaten in the morning, certainly did not help heal wounds faster. Parker thought that he should re-bandage the wound and promised himself to do it as soon as he returned home.

So now he just looked around the spacious room, grabbing the mop more tightly and began to do paid work – mopping the floors. He masterfully, as his condition allowed him, went around steel tables, showered with various chemical reagents and scribbled papers. From time to time, he inadvertently glanced at standing test tubes and their descriptions, nodded in agreement at something, and shook his head at something in displeasure, not at all understanding how one could come to such a stupid reaction. Peter was actually glad that he finally managed to get into this part of the building, since it was in this laboratory that the old security cameras completely stopped working two days ago, the budget for such details was not at all enough, so no one was in a hurry to solve this problem.

“Okay…” Peter said hoarsely to himself, inspecting the chemicals he needed.

No one should have noticed the loss; for a long time, accounting of materials has been done just for show, without delving into any serious losses. Therefore, after some time, Spider-Man's web was ready and Peter, with a far from clear conscience, trudged to get ready for home. He was ashamed as hell, but… Was there another way out? Could he afford to stop saving the city at night? If he had done so, or would have continued to engage in theft – in any of these cases, Peter would have reproached himself. Would’ve reproached if he’d refused regular patrols due to lack of web, would’ve reproached if he’d continued to steal from his place of job. But he's used to it. This corrosive feeling of wrongness flashed in him every single time he put on the mask of a hero. But the Spider continued to give passers-by smiles and hope, to make their life easier, even if he himself was digging deeper and deeper.

He said a quiet goodbye to Mr Robins, had no doubt he would sleep there and came out to the fresh air of green New York. It was still gray, as Peter's mood again, nothing was changing in his life, even damn weather. 

Peter Parker has grown up too fast. He walked through New York at night in his old sweatshirt from tenth grade. He wanted to get home as soon as possible, change into his favorite Stark Industries sweatshirt, brew green tea in a bag, and just relax. Spring was approaching, it was getting warmer, and the jackets had quickly faded into the background. But despite this, the weather continued to rage. Passing through another street, the guy felt a couple of drops that fell on his head. He only grimaced at the discomfort and threw on his hood, looking down at the road. The desire to get to the apartment as soon as possible only increased, since recently Peter did not like the rain.

But rains were going, as if out of spite, constantly. It was as if the weather wanted to describe Peter’s condition, showing that the guy himself was pouring rain in his soul and hadn’t stopped since the fall. It mourned with him the lost May, the forgotten Ned and Michelle. As if the Universe really understood how much suffering the chain of inevitable events brought to Peter that led him to this reality.

On his way home he stopped at one of the small shops near the house and bought some food, hoping that it would at least help the wound heal a little.

“Peter, dear, you're getting thinner every time I see you” Mrs Zhang grumbled as Peter came closer to the cashier desk.

“So I'm gonna eat your wonderful noodles and get better, Mrs Zhang,” he smiled at the thin old woman who was the owner of this little shop.

“Insufferable boy” she shrieked again and silently put to his modest order two protein bars.

“Thank you Mrs Zhang” he nodded his head in thanks.

“Go home and eat your food, kid, chop chop” gave her a little smile Peter went home as Mrs Zhang ordered.

The building he was living in was three-story and had about twenty apartments, or at least something which was close to apartments. The external exterior of the building did not inspire confidence, the internal one even more so. Nevertheless, due to this feature, Peter paid less than, for example, the residents of a similar three-story building on the next street, which has undergone a good renovation for a couple of years and now it does not look like a victim of two world wars and a hurricane all at once. However, not the exterior was the main imperfection of all this thing. The smell. It was the first time Peter regretted his heightened senses. Living in a box full of freaks, criminals and riffraff automatically gives you a pack of smells of various fatty fried dishes, vomit, alcohol and human moral decline.

Peter quickly passed the hall and went up to the second floor to his apartment. Despite the noise he could hear both from below and above, the second floor guaranteed a dry room. He knew that when it rained heavily (and it’d only been raining for the past few days), the third floor would most likely suffer with water dripping from the roof that hadn't been repaired in at least twenty years. So even with all the extra noise he had to listen to almost every day, he was actually happy that he didn't have to deal with a flood in his apartment. 

Peter had a quick dinner and tried to fix the situation with his hurt stomach. Very, very bad situation. The wound went from the beginning of the ribs to about the pelvis, it was still bleeding, and the area around the wound was already red, which indicated inflammation. The only thing he could do at the moment was to treat the wound and use the last meters of bandage to wrap his stomach. After all these procedures he certainly felt better. The rain pattering on the window and the mild light from the table lamp made him drowsy, so he pulled on his Midtown University sweatshirt and carefully laid down on his back and finally fell asleep.

To be a spider-man wasn't an easy job. Especially when you stayed alone among all heroes because one of them died, one of them retired, some superheroes just disappeared and things turned out in the way that the most harmless superhero who was expected to patrol the city sometimes now had to save the whole city. Each day.

Okay, almost each day. One day Peter understood he was too exhausted and starving and realized that people didn't need a hero on the edge of life and death so he worked out a schedule of his patrolling and swore not to go out as a spider man if it wasn't written down on the paper which was attached to the fridge with a magnet in the shape of a Thor’s hammer. The previous day was without any spider power. However today after his ship where Mr Robbins was working as if he hadn't even gone outside Peter put his suit on and started to make this world better. The wound was still hurt but he couldn't do anything but continue to save helpless people from rogues. It was healing a little and he had no spontaneous incidents which could impair the injury. During this evening, he managed to help five old women cross the road, disperse a group of teenagers who were going to fight in a couple, prevented two thefts and helped a girl from a rapist, making sure that she got home safely and giving a couple of valid numbers of psychologists. Just in case. So now he could return home. 

This spring promised to be different, it has already started raining. Peter had a special relationship with spring. He first met Tony Stark, his idol and future mentor, who practically became an incredibly important figure of his life, at this time of year. Tony invited him to fight on his side, gave him a chance that made the fifteen-year-old boy almost squeal with delight. At the same time of year, he fought with the Vulture, received a slight psychological trauma due to which he could not sleep peacefully for a couple of nights, but achieved the recognition of Iron Man. In the spring, he was just going to go on an excursion with the class, but at the end of the day he found himself in space, on the planet Titan, and then turned into dust in Tony's arms, looking straight into his anxious eyes, full of pain and despair. Peter wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, he should not blame himself for what Spider-Man himself decided to do. But he didn't have time.

And the next moment Tony Stark himself was dying, sacrificing himself for Morgan, for Pepper, for him. 

Silently.

Cold drops were falling from the sky more and more, Peter's jacket was already wet, and the roads were filled with dirty puddles. He cried. Tried to convince himself that it was all rain, but in fact he cried, releasing his despair again, for the first time.

 Maybe this spring will be... calm?

“My god, my god,” a tall, thin guy jumped out from the corner, he looked worried and seemed not to notice anything at all, there was a feeling that he was just trying to escape, but as soon as this guy’s eyes came across the hunched over Peter, all this time pressing his hand to his side, he turned to him “Jesus, man, get out of here, seriously. There, men with weapons swept the area! I– I don’t know, I called the cops, but.. Fuck, this is my first time in such a situation, god”

Peter raised his head and frowned with his red eyes at the frightened guy.

 “Where is it?”

“N-not far, literally a block from here. They... they have some super guns, I'm not good at that, I mean”

“Just run” Peter stopped the flow of further incoherent words. He only nodded uncertainly and rushed in the direction opposite to the crime scene.

Peter had done his patrol for today, he was emaciated and wanted to get home and fall over. But being the superhero means you could never refuse to help people, even if it was contrary to his own condition. Yes, Parker grew up and realized all his mistakes. And even so, he still had recklessness in his veins, he still sought to save everyone, even if it cost him his own life. Just because he was Peter Parker, because with great power comes great responsibility. And if he could now save the people who had guns pointed at him, he would do it.

The backpack, like in the good old days, was attached with a web to the trash can. And Spider-Man was already cutting through the air through the streets of New York, reaching his area. After all, that’s where that guy sent him. He landed crookedly on the roof of a five-story building, writhing in pain as he scanned the surrounding area. Along the perimeter stood dressed-up men with machine guns that were clearly different from the usual ones. This complicated the task, because Peter did not know their features at all. He quietly slipped forward along the roofs and went down the wall, trying to do everything silently. Peter found himself in the space between two buildings, and walking forward he looked around the corner. On the road, these people were talking loudly, each group of them led frightened and sleepy people out of their houses, all of them were trembling with fear, kneeling in front of the attackers. The capture territory did not even cover the microdistrict, let alone the Bronx itself. Spider-Man sincerely did not understand why these people have chosen this particular area. If they wanted to be heard, wouldn't it be more logical to embrace something broader? More important people, not the poor people of New York.

Peter was not going to solve the problem of terrorism alone. Just as the runner had said, he called for backup, and Parker was sure he wasn't alone. Therefore, the Spider’s task was only to monitor the actions and, in the event of a threat of death, to neutralize the enemy. But that was before the little child who was far away with the captured people pointed to the corner behind which Peter was hiding and did not shout "Spider-Man is saving us!”

Everything happened quickly. Three big men with weapons in their hands headed towards him. As soon as they sharply turned the corner, Peter hit two of them in the face, and threw the third away with a web, placing him against the wall. He dodged all the attacks of the first and second as best he could, not allowing to come closer to his Achilles heel. Ultimately, all three bastards lay passed out in front of him right in a puddle, and around the corner a group of armed men was ready to repel the intruder. Everything was too fast. He fought off some, planning to move to the other side to maneuver, but he turned too rapidly and he felt like his wound started bleeding again. He tried to fight off the lunges, but the pain prevented him from thinking clearly, and he missed a couple of punches. 

The next moment something happened. Joyful shouts of people “Spider-Man! Spider-Man!” through the sound of the rain were replaced by screams of horror. And then everything seemed to freeze. Peter looked down, eyes narrowed, he saw blood pouring out of him, there was a large bloody hole in his stomach. As if in delirium, Spider-Man raised his arms, shooting out his web at the remaining assholes. The sound of a siren was heard.

Finally.

Reinforcements would arrive here soon, so maybe he could close his eyes? He was already on the asphalt, how could he not have noticed it… Cold drops got into his eyes, but they were interesting to watch, so he opened his eyes from time to time, continuing to peer into the dark sky, hidden by clouds. There must be something serious with him? Stomach ached even stronger than last night. Bloody hole. Literally bloody. He laughed hoarsely into the night, coughing. A metallic taste appeared in his mouth, Peter was not a fool, he understood what was going on. The rescued people fussed around Peter, but at one point he simply became bored with looking up and he began to close his eyes. Everything has faded into the background, he wouldn't survive anymore... He wouldn't be able to…

Scarlet blood flowed from his suit into a bloody puddle, mixing with water, the hero’s breathing slowed down every second, and his consciousness kept leaving him. The lone doctor who was found in the entire crowd of people was hopelessly trying to stop the bleeding, but he realized with grief that it was all too late. They could only pray for his heroic soul, who saved them and their children. 

The rain didn't stop.

A pleasant melody began to reach Peter as if from afar. It was as if he had gone to Heaven and heard the singing of his beloved Aunt May, as it was before, as if it was in a happy time of his childhood. And the sounds did not stop, the woman’s quiet singing became clearer, bringing the guy more and more pleasure. He was ready to listen to this angelic melody for eternity, remembering his smiling aunt and her delicious sandwiches straight from the oven. Peter wanted to fantasize that she would now come into his old room, where her beloved nephew was sleeping, and gently pat him on the head. And he’d listen and listen with complete excitement to May, feeling a soft bed and a warm blanket under him. Everything seemed so real. So domestic.

The next noise made Peter open his eyes. He stood up sharply, breathing heavily, and looked around. His old room… An open window from which the quiet singing of birds can be heard, Lego is scattered on the floor, and the work table is littered with various books, notebooks and, of course, various junk that the past Peter happily modernized or disassembled into useful parts. On the walls there are eternal posters of Iron Man, Captain America…

Where was he?

In Heaven? Like Elysium or something.

The incessant disgusting sound, which Peter noticed only now, was made by his old alarm clock, which he hastened to turn off. It took time for his axles to finally adjust to the light and the new interior, though the next moment Peter was slumped by saying about the new interior. That was a familiar place. He glanced suspiciously towards the door, wondering how best to proceed. Try to close your eyes and fall asleep, in the hope that this nightmare, hidden behind the pleasant memories of the past, will pass, or go out the door and find out how far he could go? How detailed the locations are, like in some game.

It really no longer seemed like a place in heaven. Because he was in his old room. All this was difficult to look at, all this was difficult to remember, all this Peter did not want to do! He just wanted to retire. If this happened, if he was destined to die in the rain, bleeding, saving the townspeople, then so be it. But did he deserve to see all this? Making his heart pound furiously just at the sight of a tenth grade physics notebook and a T-shirt lying next to his bed. Peter wanted to scream from hopelessness, from not wanting to see all this, but instead he continued to look at the damn school notebook with the cover of a miniature Iron Man drawn on it. 

No, he didn't want to stay here, he couldn't. He had to leave whatever this place was. Peter, without any pain, which surprised him, lowered his legs to the floor, realizing that he was wearing old house pants. After sitting there for a couple of seconds, he quickly lifted his T-shirt, peering into the wounds. But they were not there.

What was this…

Parker staggered to the door, opening it sharply. May's quiet singing again reached the guy's ears.

 No.

 It couldn't be—

With slow steps, he walked along the old corridor into the kitchen, where the sounds came from. She stood in a pink apron, humming something from Frank Sinatra's repertoire, and cutting bread into toast. There was a slight half-smile on her face, which Peter had not seen fors o long. The woman raised her tender gaze to him.

“Good morning, honey”

Chapter Text

There were nights when Peter couldn't fall asleep. He was tossing and turning on the narrow, hard bed of his small apartment, pulling the blanket tighter, then putting it away altogether. He looked at the shining stars and was imagining how they were laughing at him,  a talentless little teenager who could not find a normal job and treat his wounds properly. In those moments he was thinking about May. About her wrinkles as she smiled, she liked to laugh and smile a lot, about her kind and big eyes. He missed it. But mostly he missed her voice. Peter remembered her crisp ethereal voice she used to sing the most beautiful songs and lullabies to him as he was younger. May could sing when she was preparing breakfast or when she was watering her plants, she could hum a melody when she was preparing on some evenings with her friends. He missed it in lonely dark nights.

He was hearing this voice again now. And saw the figure in a funny apron. She was the same as she remembered her months ago.

“May” the singing died down.

The woman turned from the plate and Peter freezed. He felt his heart being torn apart, unable to utter words, looking at the woman standing in front of him. He wanted to drop dead from just her smile directed in his way, he wanted to close his ears and scream like a child, just so as not to hear her voice. He didn’t hate her... But he loved her more than life itself. And now his subconscious was slipping a wagon of pain and suffering, forcing Peter to experience all this. Again look into her bright, burning eyes, hear her soft, gentle voice.

“You’re so pale, darling, everything's good?” the smile on May's face fell slightly and was replaced by concern.

He wanted to say something, to pronounce at least a word, something like ‘sorry’ or ‘hi’, hell whatever. But he couldn’t. All the words flew out of his head and the throat tightened, and with each new second, the lump in the throat was only getting heavier.

“Peter?” she came closer “Are you— Are you crying?”

Peter shuddered, as if coming out of a trance, and touched his cheek, wet with tears, with his hand. He didn’t even notice how all this threw him off balance. He didn't want to be here anymore, he just wanted to die peacefully, as those terrible bleeding wounds demanded. But May. She was here, with him, Peter could hear her, touch her, look at her, alive. May hastily wiped her hands with a towel and, throwing it somewhere on the table, quickly walked up to her nephew, gently touching his shoulders. This only made Peter flinch. He still couldn’t utter any word but feeling her warm hands on him he wanted only one thing. The next second, Peter hugged May, pressing his forehead against her shoulder and stopped holding back the tears that silently rolled down his cheeks directly onto his aunt's clean blouse. May was confused for a second, but then she pulled Peter closer to her and started stroking his hair, whispering comforting little things “It’s okay, Peter, I’m here, I’m with you, we’ll deal with everything. Together”.

Peter was  releasing the pain that was stored in his heart after the death of his aunt. Every time he came to the grave, he dreamed of hugging her and telling her how much he loved her. And even if all of this was just Peter's fantasy right now, if all of this was his punishment for the past sins he had committed, he wouldn't waste this opportunity just begging someone to get him out of here. This will all definitely happen later, but now he will just inhale the pleasant smell of May’s light perfume, which Ben gave her a long time ago, pat her on the back and sob loudly again, carried away for a second into the past.

He cried and cried until his tears dried up completely, but he didn’t want to leave May’s arms, and only sniffled quietly into her neck, feeling the woman gently stroking his back.

“Was that a nightmare? Because of Ben?”Peter frowned, trying to understand what May meant. What if—

“What’s the date?” he spoke in an extremely hoarse voice, as if he hadn't opened his mouth in months.

“Today is the eighth of March, Peter, I’m sorry” and only then he noticed her puffy eyes that spoke of a sleepless night full of despair. He knew that look in her eyes all too well. It was filled with pain and sorrow. 

Peter didn’t know where he was and why, he couldn’t understand why the dead aunt was talking to him and what happened with him. However he clearly knew the date. The eighth of March, the date of Benjamin Parker’s death.

“We’ll deal with everything” he repeated the words Aunt May said before to him. “Together”

As  they dealt with villains from other Universes, as they dealt with blipping, with Peter’s identity, they were always together until—

“May” his voice was still hoarse, but neither Aunt nor Peter himself paid attention to this. “I love you so much.”

She took his face in both hands and looked at him with her gentle eyes that made him want to cry again, and then she whispered “I love you, too, sweetheart, I love you 3000”. And before Peter was ready to despair again, May gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and pulled away with a small but sincere  smile. “Well, boy, I gotta go to work now, you can stay at home, I’ll call the school administration, they’ll understand. All right?” She put the coat on and headed to the foyer. 

“Um, hes” he agreed, not totally understood what was going on.

“Call Ned, he’ll visit you after school”

“Ned...?”

“I understand that you are a special child and you don’t want to miss school every time, but,” Aunt kissed Peter on the forehead. “ at least today, for my sake, rest”

“Yes, I… Wait,  school? I mean, I... where? Where am I?”

Peter asked her as if May could seriously answer this question. He thought that this was all an extremely well-thought-out illusion, and Peter probably would have even thought about Mysterio if he hadn't seen his dead body with his own eyes. His heart was still pounding loudly in the chest, and the breathing was not evening out.

“You’re no longer sleeping, dear, the nightmare is over, you’re at home.”

He wanted to object that but he looked at May’s face and saw intensive  worries  so he just took a deep breath and answered:

“Of course I’m home, Aunt May, where else could i be” 

She looked at him suspiciously, but still picked up the keys from the side table and turned towards the front door. “Just take a rest, dear, okay?”

“I will, I promise” she smiled at him and opened the door;  at that moment, when she was leaving the house, his heart sank again and he thought about whether he would see May again, whether he would be able to hug her or hear her voice. “Will you— Will you return?”

“Why yes Peter, I’ll try my best to come back earlier”

She finally left, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts. the guy sharply recoiled from his aunt, turning around to look at everything in more detail.

The interior was just as he remembered it when he left. The same wallpaper, shabby in some places, a mark from a hot frying pan on the edge of the tabletop (once he wanted to please his aunt with dinner, but did not take into account that placing a hot frying pan on an empty surface would not be the best idea). Next to it was a mug with the word "Boss" written on it, which Peter had given to his aunt for Mother's Day. It was a very touching moment, after which May did not let go of her nephew from her arms for another thirty minutes, saying what a wonderful child he was. But this mug broke. It was absolutely certain that Peter dropped it one night when he was already flying around the city at night as Spider-Man. He was slightly out of his mind after being wounded, albeit slightly, and accidentally touched the gift. Parker apologized to May for more than a week, to which she just smiled and told him to stop burdening himself with this. It was more important for May  that Peter gave her a gift for Mother’s Day, and the rest was unimportant.

He checked all the rooms in the apartment to  make sure everything was real. The last room was his own. The last time he was here, it was with Michelle. But now he saw many differences from how his room looked the last time he saw it. It was more... Childlike?

The walls were hung with posters of superheroes, mostly of Iron Man and Captain America, the bed was covered with a sheet with a space theme, Legos and other spare parts were lying around, which he most likely brought from the street. Old t-shirts and jeans hung untidy from the back of the chair, and the closet was half open, also filled with clothes and other things. On the table was his old laptop that he got from Ben and above... He decided to check and the guess turned out to be correct. The old suit which consists of a hoodie, sweatpants and a diving mask was there. What the hell was going on?

Peter believed in aliens, gods, Harry Potter, other planets, damn, he even believed in other Universes. But time traveling? It sounded insane. He turned the laptop on and started to wait until it loaded. And finally he saw.

08/03/2016

Peter froze in shock, not knowing what to do, where to go, how to act. Maybe he's already used to talking to the Killer Raccoon, as well as the fact that he's been dead for five years, but traveling back in time? 

There was the time when— Peter broke out in a cold sweat. This... this was the year he and Tony met, when Parker fought the Vulture, and before that he was in Germany fighting Captain America. It was a year filled with superhero activity, acceptance of himself as a hero and the realization that his impulses to fight the Avengers were just the whims of a fanatical teenager who was not really ready for all this. It was a year of discoveries. 

Oh my god, the Vulture, the ferry… Tony Stark. If May was alive, Tony Stark was as well. 

He looked out the window again, watching people in light sweaters walking down the street. He decided to join them. When he got dressed, he noticed that his physique was slightly different, most likely he still had the body of fifteen-year-old Peter. He pulled his hoodie over himself, looking again at the open laptop screen, which was flashing today's date. That day, his last patrol, it was March 8, and he didn't even look at the calendar, didn't remember the date. He died on the same day as Ben. Did he? Was it because of death that he was transferred here or was it some other inexplicable trick of the universe? Tricks. the universe. Magic.

Strange.

He had to visit Strange.

The familiar door on which Peter desperately knocked for five minutes remained closed. He remembered the building of the Sanctum Sanctorum simply perfectly (the battle in this area with Doctor Strange, in principle, entered Parker’s memory forever with all the details). But Stephen’s place of residence looked somehow not alive as never before. The guy seemed to feel with his spider-like guts that there was no one inside and there wouldn’t be in the near future. But where does the Supreme Mage of the Earth hang out then? And at this time, Mr. Strange was just that. Peter once again looked around the street on which he stood and sighed with relief. There were no people at this turn; he was lucky that he decided to visit his future friend during a school – people were working, students were studying. So, making sure that no one was watching him and was not at all interested in the teenager standing near the old building, Peter easily applied a little more force and pulled the door handle, using his superhero abilities.

“Was it possible to call these abilities as such when hacking?” Peter thought enthusiastically, carefully entering the dark room.

The spacious hall, no longer (or not yet) reminiscent of a freezer, was illuminated only from the side of dusty and dirty windows, which is why there was less light than required. Peter walked a little further, turning his head a full one hundred and eighty degrees and noticing with his vision that the room was relatively clean - no kilometer-long layers of dust. This could mean that either someone still lived here, or... no one lived here, but they kept it clean. And this did absolutely nothing to help Parker figure out the main question – where is Stephen.

“Mister Doctor Strange?” Peter  called out to him. “Stephen? I  remember you asked me to call you by name”

This snob was used to imposingly appearing with a cloak of levitation on the main staircase, but it remained empty and forgotten. “Because you know” he continued “we were fighting together, weren’t we?”

The man was clearly not in the building. Then where was he? And anyway... Peter stopped in shock, realizing one very unpleasant thing. Stephen said that he became a magician relatively recently, but... was the year two thousand and sixteen a recent year?

“Crap”  Peter, increasingly immersed in unpleasant thoughts on this score, rushed up the stairs, starting to open every door that stood in his way.

Dining room, bedroom, small living room... Empty. Absolutely uninhabited area. Parker collapsed into a chair in the second floor hallway, leaning back. His eyes caught on an overly bright artifact that stood out noticeably from the others. Squinting, the guy realized what it was - a cloak of levitation. The faithful assistant and friend of the master of magical arts was now sitting in a glass cage, waiting for his future owner. Yes, Stephen wasn't here. And it was not known when it would appear. From this, panic began to creep into Peter's mind.

Who will help him then if not Strange? How could he get out of this reality?” Peter felt hot, and his hands involuntarily began to become cowardly. He felt himself withdrawing every second, diving into thoughts of ‘What if’.

“Okay, calm down,” he began to whisper words of reassurance to himself, walking along the rest of the glass surfaces, hoping to notice something interesting. “If there is no doctor, there is someone else. Right? Right”

He went a little further, glancing at the strange live wallpaper. Frowning, Parker began to look cautious, knowing that curiosity would not help him in Sanctum Sanctum. Outside the other windows, a rattling forest, a hot desert and cold blocks of ice somewhere at the Pole awaited him.

“Beautiful pictures” Peter thought that the current owner, if there was one at all, had very strange hobbies, and reached for the third stained glass window, from which it would be, and languidly cold.

“I wouldn’t do this if I were you,” Parker winced, turning towards the unknown voice, taking aim with his shooters. While walking around New York, he decided to take them. “Peter”.

The woman who stood in front of him didn’t make him understand how to treat her. Her gaze held him in place. Peter felt the power coming from the young-looking woman in bright yellow robes. A power that could not belong to a young man, it seemed ancient and antique, and this more suited the description of its owner. Everyone made it clear that Peter was not dealing with a mere mortal or a student of Kamar-Taj. He spoke to...

“Are you the Ancient one?” Peter nevertheless lowered his hands with the prepared web, still viewing the unknown with suspicion.

“Absolutely right” she nodded “ And you are Peter Parker, Queens High School student, Spider-Man”

“Absolutely right” I answered here in the similar way,, noting in response her slight yielding smile.

“So what brings you here?” she came a little closer, continuing to look at Peter.

“Well... Why can’t you touch them?”  turned towards the stained glass windows.

“These are portals”.

“Portals? Aren't portals round? he ostentatiously wrapped his finger in a circle, catching the curious glance of his interlocutor. Peter continued. “I mean that they need to be created using special artifacts”. In the end, Parker became embarrassed, looking at three large portals leading to completely different parts of the world.

“You're right, Peter. But these portals have a slightly different mechanism” and if Peter  thought that she would continue to tell the work of magical portals, he was very much mistaken. “And I would still like to know…”

“ I was looking for someone... But he’s not here”

“Who?”

“Stephen. Stephen Strange” Peter was sure that this name would not mean anything to this woman, how could she know who would next take her post, right? But apparently Parker was very mistaken, because the Ancient One’s eyes widened for a while, making the guy understand everything he needed – the Ancient One knew who Stephen Strange was.

“Who are you? Or rather, where from”

Peter hesitated, still afraid to reveal himself. He knew the doctor, he knew that even without knowing this Peter Parker, Stephen would have helped him, would have found a way. As a last resort, he wouldn't do anything bad. And Peter didn’t know at all what she was hiding behind that seemingly welcoming smile. However he also won't learn anything about Strange unless he told the truth about himself. Now he had a chance, albeit small, that this woman could help him.

“I'm Peter Parker. From the future... Kinda.. Well, actually I’m not sure” the woman did not show her surprise. Apparently, she had wasted all her emotions a minute earlier. In any case, she stepped aside, pointing to one of the chairs where Peter had landed earlier.

He understood everything without words, so he walked to the chair, noting that the Ancient One was following him to the next one. She carefully smoothed out the folds of her orange suit and, with the same pleasant, subtle smile, waved her hand, placing two small cups of green tea on the table.

“The concepts of ‘the future’ and ‘kinda’  are completely different from each other, Peter,”  she began, using Peter’s terminology of what happened. “The future holds the past, the past creates the future, controls the present, and all in all there are people who create history. But if we talk about precise control, all three times depend on the Time Stone. So tell me, Peter, are you from the future?”

The woman had a talent for expressing herself gracefully and mysteriously. The whole essence of existence was intertwined in beautiful phrases. Peter easily understood what she wanted to hear from him.

“Definitely not” The Time Stone, like the other Infinity Stones, no longer existed; they were all initially destroyed by Thanos, and the other ones were destroyed by Tony.

“Okay,” she nodded with satisfaction. “So the second option remains”

“And what is it?”

“You are in another reality. In another version, in the body of Peter Parker.”

“Wait, I’m— I don’t really think I understood the point,” Peter frowned. “Am I… Where is the small Peter Parker anyway?”

“Somewhere, who knows” Peter froze “Don’t  look at me like that, you couldn’t even imagine the scale of our existence”

“I bet I can,” Peter thought. He closed his eyes, blocking out the memories of his last night in reality. He didn’t want to imagine that a fifteen-year-old boy, who was just learning about his abilities and superheroism and did not know the pain that adult Peter experienced, was lying dying on the wet asphalt of a disadvantaged area, covered in blood.

“How... Is there any way to find out if he is in this reality?”

“Maybe”

“Can I get back to my place?”  He frowned. “Will you do it?”

“Maybe,” the Sorcerer Supreme said as calmly as ever. “But I’m not going to do that.”

“But why?”

“Because it's none of my business. This is the work of the Universe. If the threads of fate are intertwined in this way—”

“You are the leader of the Masters of the Mystic Arts,” Parker interrupted the woman with displeasure. “It is your responsibility to take care of the Earth”

“I do care. You don't interfere with the correct course of history.”

The guy groaned angrily, leaning back in his chair.

“I can’t be here! Teenager Peter should be here, he should live these one of his last happy months before everything goes... Because it goes!” but the Ancient One looked at him emotionlessly, not reacting to the words in any way.

“You don’t care, do you?”

“Not really,” she said. “ You came to Stephen Strange, which means he should help you”

“And when will he be here?!”

“I don’t know the future,” the woman answered so simply, standing up. “I just foresee it. So just wait.”

“And you don’t care that I can ruin this reality with my actions?”

“Your actions are part of reality. It doesn't have to copy yours exactly." These were the last words before the woman created a portal, bordered with golden sparkles, and disappeared.

And Peter’s questions only increased. And hopelessness in thoughts too. He didn't know when he would see Stephen, and now, after the conversation, he didn't know what to do. And the realization that the real Peter of this life could be suffering somewhere added even more pain. Parker is just stuck here. And he didn’t know how to get out. And then, already walking through the streets towards the house, he asked himself – did he want to?

“So, I can’t see him?”

Familiar voices began to reach the guy through the prism of sleep. He reluctantly began to open his eyes, and as soon as he did, he felt a chill. Peter was lying in the cozy bed in his old room. He felt exhausted after the conversation with the Ancient One. While he was going home eventually he came across Delmar's shop, although the building was badly damaged, all because of one of his last fights as Spider-Man. He remembered that day, he was trying to catch criminals stealing jewelry. The sun was warm, the streets were dry, he walked slowly home, remembering the streets he hadn't walked on for a long time. There was food on the stove that May had prepared before leaving, he had a quick bite, and then he went to the room, leaned back on the bed and did not even notice how he fell asleep.

“He was sleeping the last time I visited him. Check, maybe he's already woken up”.

After a couple of seconds, the door slowly opened and his friend appeared on the threshold. Ned Leeds. It would seem that he had not changed at all, even after a year he remained the same cute chubby guy with glasses..

What should he do...

“Hey dude” Ned noticed that his friend was slightly pale, and only pursed his lips, thereby showing his excitement. “How are you?”

“Ned! Um, hi.” Pete’s face lit up with a strange sad smile, which young Leeds could not decipher. He sat on the edge of the bed, peering into his face, but Parker only moved closer and hugged his friend. “I missed you, Ned.”

“Yes...” the guy responded in surprise to the strong hug and patted him on the back. “Yeah, Being without you all day is crazy, Pete.”

“Yeah” a nervous laugh escaped his  lips, which further confused his friend. “How— How was the day?  He finally pulled away from Ned, quietly trying to wipe away the droplets of tears that had accumulated in the corners of his eyes.

“I can’t do it without you, dude, I’ve been hanging around doing nothing all day.” complained.

“You studied, Ned.” Pete encouraged him. God, how he had just wanted to chat with his best friend for a long time!

“There’s no way to study without you, Pete, just know that”

This phrase made Parker smile involuntarily. He felt a little better, and, the strangest thing, he felt that it was all damn right. It's right that he's now sitting and talking with a fifteen-year-old friend, not burdened with secrets about Spider-Man, who didn't know about Thanos and his snap.

“Will you be at school tomorrow? You have to, man. Maybe you can invite Liz this time”!

Liz.

Daughter of Adrian Toomes. The girl he was head over heels in love with.

He completely forgot about her. About that beautiful mulatto girl who charmed him at first sight. She seemed perfect for him, and Peter was so desperate for her attention...

In his thoughts he remembered MJ. His perfect girl. Or rather, no, she had shortcomings. For example, she did not know how to communicate with people, repelling her with her eternal sarcasm and incomprehensible, out of the norm, facts that she could tell completely suddenly. But even with this, Michelle was beautiful. She knew how to support and help in difficult times, her jokes about losers were saturated with love and emotion, she was an incredibly loyal friend and a girl who first of all looked at Peter Parker, and only then at the man in the red mask flying on a web across New York. 

Peter hadn’t invited Liz yet. He didn't see the costume in his bag. Apparently, the ferry incident had already happened. So that was just before his Homecoming.

“Well, yes, I will, I guess” Peter froze again, lost in his thoughts. He wanted to meet Michelle again, to hear her sarcastic comments about him, to see Tony Stark. God, Tony was alive, he was  sitting somewhere on the other side of town, messing around in his lab or workshop, listening to AC/DC, probably not thinking about Peter at all, but he was  alive.

“Okay, dude, I see you’re not in the best shape, so just rest” he patted his friend on the shoulder. “I'm waiting for you at school. Don't forget you're awesome”

Peter just smiled as his friend left and sighed nervously. It was all too difficult to accept. He started over from the beginning. He communicated with a person who had already died in his reality; he was sitting in the old room of a sold apartment. That was not a dream, not nonsense, not an illusion. And the realest reality.

And Peter had to decide whether to live in this reality or find a way to get into his own.

Chapter Text

"You’re eating like nobody's business, it's the first time I see you like that” Aunt May was flying around him ignoring yesterday. It was a hard day not only for Peter but for May foremost.. He didn't see sadness in her eyes that day, vice versa, he saw a light excitement either because of the bright sun or of the bouquet of flowers Peter bought an hour ago in the nearest flower shop. He realized he wanted to make May happier as much as possible while he's still here. 

Today, he saw her smiling again and understood how he missed it.

However she was right. Even with his powers he didn't eat that amount of food. The months of hunger were felt and Peter couldn't stop but ate a lot, meanwhile his aunt was just looking at the scene and wondering. He looked at the kitchen, full fridge, smelling flowers on the window sill and remembered his lonely days in his apartment when Peter could enjoy himself only by cheap ramen. He still remembered that awful week without food in his stomach. Those days he didn't work because of repairs in the lab, thus he didn't get any money to buy at least something. He was eating one loaf of bread the whole week and after getting his first payment was vomiting the same evening, the organism could not get used to the nutrition. 

“I'm just hungry, that's fine May” Peter gulped down one more piece of the cake and leaned on the chair's back. He felt a huge heaviness in his stomach, perhaps the consequences of his actions will come out soon.

He couldn't say how long it had been since he had such a pleasant and calm morning, such a sunny morning. Sleep was not a constant phenomenon in his life; at times he was prevented from resting by deep wounds that did not want to heal because of his lifestyle. And in general, the windows of the apartment did not face the sunny side, so outside the window he always saw the neighbors from the nearby residential building. The birds were singing out of the opened window and he felt restful as never before in his life. That was the second day of his abidance in this reality. Peter did not know the rules, though was planning to understand them. Confidence came at night, when he remembered that he would see his girlfriend today. He was terrible as a boyfriend, he failed and ruined their happiness with his actions.  Maybe now it will be possible for him to change something. 

However… 

“I have a strange feeling, aunt May, that I forgot something” Peter frowned trying to remember “Something important”

May put her cup in the sink and smiled “I hope it is not your science project you worked on a month, because god sees, you and your Stark just–

Oh my god

Him

He forgot him

Tony Stark's alive

He forgot Tony Stark. 

The moment he realized he was already falling off the chair. May quickly ran up to Peter to help quietly laughing. “My God, Pete, the amount of food you gulped pulled you back?”. Then Peter stood up and immediately grabbed Mey’s hand holding them in place next to the fallen chair. “What did you say before?”

“What?” She frowned “That Stark and you are just two crazy geniuses?” Peter froze. “Yeah, I know that you love him too much it's your hero and so on and so forth but—”

“He's… alive? Here in New York? Tony?” 

“You're scaring me, boy. Of course this bastard is still alive, he called me few days ago to find out about your homecoming more”

“What?”

“What?” She hid her gaze taking off her apron “I didn't tell you anything”.

“But—”

“I'm sorry, Pete, I'm gonna be working all night today”. He swallowed a lump in his throat. She took her key and turned to Peter. “See you tomorrow, darling” She turned back and headed to the door already planning to open it. She was humming under her breath some tune from a popular show that she liked to watch in the evenings. God, May… She used to be dead. He thought he would never hear her singing again. 

“May… I love you”. She stopped.

She looked at him back as she said “I love you too, Peter, like a son”. And then the door was opened and closed.

The moment left and Peter ran up to his suit. Stark was alive and it meant that he couldn't wait any moment to see this bearded egocentric face.

Peter looked at himself in the mirror, grimacing slightly. Indeed, you can feel the hand of a teenager who is rushing to save humanity, not caring about the most banal requirements of a superhero. After years of experience, his first suit (a suit he made himself) seemed terrible to him. Yes, Peter had just waxed nostalgic about his carefree youth, like some kind of grandfather, but horror overwhelmed him faster. He would have to fly around the city in this “costume”? Well, he's already waiting for Tony's laugh. And yet, no matter how much respect Pete had for this man, notes of dissatisfaction flashed through Parker’s mind because of the taken suit. After all, with him, the guy reflected later, he had, albeit an imaginary, guarantee of safety. But when a fifteen-year-old kid is jumping on buildings and riding on super thin, albeit super strong, webs in simple second-hand clothes, there is no guarantee at all.  And the events with Toomes are proof of this.  A high-quality suit affects the quality of the battle.  This doesn't mean that Peter was nothing without the suit, as he blurted out after his mistake on the ferry – it has just helped him, made his job easier, and that was great.

“Well, I’ll have to remember the cutting and sewing lessons from YouTube” Peter muttered, briefly sniffing the superhero jacket “Ugh”.

Well, maybe Peter will see him later because the natural urges came to him suddenly and he had to stop at the nearest rubbish bin to vomit. He planned to quickly see Tony from afar and return to Queens for his second lesson. But it always doesn't go according to his plans, that's why after not very pleasant minutes near the garbage cans, Peter realized that he has every chance of being late for Spanish. In whatever universe Peter was in, Spanish always stood in the way of something important.

It took a long time to get ready. As soon as Peter's hands grabbed something, his eyes were already looking for another. For about five minutes the guy even sat down at his work table, examining what he had been making last. What caught his eye was a set of brand new screwdrivers that May had given him for the Christmas holidays. The old ones were from Uncle Ben and the woman wanted to please her nephew.  The posters hanging around the room made Peter sigh heavily again, but this time he felt better.  After a long sleep and processing information in his head, it was easier for him to perceive this reality.  

Walking along the streets to the school Peter felt that spring seemed completely different.  Of course, in his reality, rain had been flooding the streets of his neighborhood for about a week, thick dark clouds were Parker’s constant companion and this was not a figure of speech at all.  The guy was overwhelmed by the daily unloved work, the lack of windows in the laboratories filled with a mass of chemicals with which he constantly dealt; all this put a lot of pressure on the guy.  But now everything was different. Peter walked along the clean sidewalk, accompanied by the warm rays of the sun; next to him, children walked hand in hand with their parents at an accelerated pace and actively explained something to them. Teenagers in multi-colored T-shirts and sweatshirts were intently typing messages on their smartphones and smiling, probably at their virtual interlocutor. The warm wind blew pleasantly on his face. This teenage time seemed to Peter more than ever... Favorite.  Everything here was simple and interesting, easy and carefree. And as soon as the guy looked again at the high school he left in the fall, he came up with a plan.

“Dude, glad to see you!” he saw Ned near him. Where did he come from?

“How could I mess up with Spanish?”

“I see, amigo. Where were you an hour ago?”

“I… overslept?”

“Great!” they came up to the Peter’s locker “I haven’t believed in any of your words, Pete”

And Peter stopped.

“What?”

“I mean, you behave weirdly since yesterday, I would have not been a good friend if I hadn’t noticed that”

“Ned–’”

“I don’t ask you about anything. I’ll be waiting, you know me Pete” Peter knew “Just… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t… Right. Actually, I have something to tell you.”

“I'm all ears” the bell rang.

“Let's do it on lunch”

This was the first time in Spanish class when Peter didn't seem bored. That was his first lesson after death, after all.

“What does it even mean you can't tell me?” 

“Listen, this is true, I just.. I cannot”

“So you're telling me that in a few weeks on our super cool homecoming where you're supposed to dance with the girl you like, her father, a crazy dude with unearthly weird guns and metal wings is going to kill humanity and our party will go to hell?”

Peter looked shocked and kept silent for some period of time while Ned was looking accurately in his eyes.

“Well, don't know where you took the part about killing humanity, I told you he's just bad guy who wants bad weapons for some bad things”

“Okay, yeah, I just coloured your “bad” narration” Ned grabbed fries and put them in his mouth waiting for the next explanation. “So what should we do then?”

“Um”

“You don't know, right?”

“I mean” he scratched the back of his head uncertainty “I have only one scenario in my head I'd like not to repeat it”.

“Okay, then it's our task for the nearest day, to find a solution! I'm so eager to this you can't even imagine I could only dream about being Batman and Robin” Ned instantly cheered up which amused Peter.

While Ned was writing the notes down Peter got time to observe the dining room. That was a real fun to look at old good faces again, noticing how they are much younger than Peter remembered them. He even noticed the piece of Flash's favorite T-shirt but he was too far to look for something else. And then Peter saw her. As always in her moody mood the girl was sketching something gloomy by her pencil. He missed her so much. He could– He could just come up to her.

“So dude” Ned interrupted his flow of thoughts. 

“Yes”

“You know it would be much easier to know how and where you found out this info, you know”

“Look” Peter laid his hands on the dinner table at the canteen and moved closer to his friend. “I really really want to tell you.” Ned swallowed the food answering “Then do it” Peter deeply exhaled.

“But that is something that I do not myself”.

This moment Ned had got a feeling that his friend is not that guy he played with Lego a week ago. He could not explain why or how but looking at this face full of grief and sorrow he saw only a hard and cruel destiny which consumed him every time Peter looked at Ned, at the other students, and especially at the strange girl who was sitting at the next table and drawing something in her notebook. Looking at her, Peter had such deep longing and despair in his eyes that Ned had never seen either in his parents, who had worked hard all his childhood to provide for him, or in his grandmother, who had devoted her whole life to hard work.  Those brown eyes reflected something so deep and not tied to the earth that his friend seemed to know something beyond the boundaries of the universe.  But no, Peter is a simple guy. He studies physics, goes on an internship with Tony Stark, saves people with superpowers... Okay, maybe he's not an ordinary guy. 

“Peter hi! We'll have chemistry class right now, and I'm doing this shit the whole week and still cannot get the point of this formula” the younger boy came to the table where two friends were sitting. He had a simple smile, freckles on his cheeks and a bit childish face.

“Sure, Luke, what's that?” Peter broke into a smile taking boy’s notes.

Yes, he wasn't an ordinary guy. But he was down-to-earth. He communicated with people without any hesitation, he could be a bit nervous and babble. He even adopted himself to Tony without any realizing. Peter was a kind and generous type of guy. 

And now he was going to experience the whole opposite to him.

“Penis Parker, that's where you are, befriending with your peers in intelect?”

“Shout your shitty mouse up, Flash” Ned interceded for his friend and the poor innocent who was standing there waiting for Peter's help.

Nevertheless the only thing Peter did at this moment was smile. He smiled at his so-called enemy who bullied him all the grades they’ve been studying together. Flash was cruel and unreasonable, Ned and Peter hated him all together but now? Smile?

“I'm glad to see you again, Flash” Peter stood up and came close to the guy hugging him all of a sudden. At this moment it seemed like all the room stopped the movement and was monitoring the actions. Peter. Cuddle. Flash. Ned thought the most shocked person in the canteen was Flash. He didn't know how to react or act, should he shout or punch or hug (oh my god no) Peter as an answer. But as Flash was finally coming to the decision Peter moved away from him sitting at the table again and scratched the last elements in Luke's notes.

“Here you are, man” 

“Um, yes, Peter, thanks a lot, I wish you a long and happy life.” a still baffled teen moved away from the table approaching his friends who were waiting for a great story.

Crowd was returning to their own businesses, finishing the meals, while Flash was staying near Ned and Peter in order to find correct words. In a minute the bell rang and all the people moved to reach their classes. Peter stood up again clapping on Flash’s shoulder and going to the exit. Do did Ned.

All this time there was only one person who stayed longer than anyone in this room. She was sitting alone at her table ignoring her lunch, trying to sketch every detail of the dumbfounded face of her classmate. One moment she ended and the piece of paper was full of emotions. She looked at the table near her bringing from her memory a slide of a moment when she noticed how this Frick Parker was looking at her. Allegedly they know each other that well. Do they? Her eyes moved to her newest drawing one more time. Yes, that was the grandeur one in her collection.

“You're looking at her the whole day, why?”

After the lessons Ned and Peter were sitting near the entrance talking and observing the students who were picked up by their parents or getting home on their own. The weather was hotter now, boys even took their shirts. 

“Who are you talking about?”

“MJ” The silence came over their conversation . “Look, I really don't know what's going on with you. You're acting differently, not like the Pete I know, though you're definitely Pete. I mean… God, you know what I mean”

“I–” the realization hit Peter and he hesitated for a second.  the truth hit him at one point and he couldn't hold it in any longer “I love MJ”

“What the–”

“More than anything in this world. She's so incredibly smart and strong, she never gives up and always moves forward to everything which waits for her.”

“Peter”

“The way she looks at this world is so open-minded. And her smile… When she smiles I want it never ending, I want to see her like that every day, to know that she's good and save and–”

“Peter!”

He remembers the days he visited her during her working hours. She was talking to the clients with a smile on her face, with assholes she acted as they deserved and then listened to a long speech from her boss where he reminded her a thousand times about the possibility of being kicked out from this place. But MJ didn't care at all about this weak try to scare her. She spent a lot of time with Ned, walking with him after work, giving him free coffee and saying something funny when she was free from the customers. She seemed to be happy. Like an ordinary human. And the first time Peter was glad he did what he did. Because now Michelle could breathe without any fear and do what she desires. But then, sometimes, only in some sparks of the moments he could see some emptiness in her eyes, allegedly she missed something and couldn't find it. She was searching for something Peter couldn't give anymore. This moment he understood his and her loss.

“I hurt her” Peter finally looked at his friend and only then he noticed. 

MJ was staying near Ned with the emotion he saw only once on her face. Despair.

Chapter Text

“So she looked at me with this face full of despair or something and then I ran away. Yes, I know, I should've talked to her or tried to explain, I understand” silence “It just looks strange you know, some freaky nerd who never talked to this girl except decathlon meetings decides to confess. Jesus. What does she think now?” silence. “Poor Ned, he didn't even get anything. What were they doing after my leaving?”

The Spider man graffiti was located in front of the roof where Spider man was sitting trying to convince at least himself that everything was alright.

“Don't look at me like that man, I'm a teen here, al right?” the silence kept over the place. “Okay fine! I'll talk to her. and him. To them both. And it'll be your mistake if they do not get it” the concrete wall of the nine-story building also stood motionless, showing no signs of life.  Like a faded portrait of a superhero in a Tony Stark suit.  About which Peter had to forget.

It was not a problem though anymore. Peter spent all his time after school doing what he was sitting in now. Ridiculously. Remembering his other self, a lost boy sitting alone in a small apartment with a sewing machine, he spent hours figuring out how it all worked and then another week to sew his suit. Not ideal, not the most comfortable, and definitely far from Stark Industries materials. He tested it the same night.  He ran across rooftops, flew through webs, got two scrapes on his knees, but something changed in him that night. As he sat on top of the long since sold Stark building, as he looked down at all those lanterns below him and contemplated some visible billboards that the Avengers were still waving at. It was then that he took a deep breath and felt that all the weight from the past years had been lifted from his shoulders and it became easier to breathe. The heaviness was still present in his soul, but sitting in a new suit, not being tied to anyone or anything, he swore to himself to protect this city no matter what. 

Half a year later, Peter died.

The fabric of the new suit fit tightly to him, now he felt more than comfortable. Just like in his real life, when he flew through the night streets of New York all alone, without an assistant in the form of Karen and a caring mentor who sometimes called him when he learned of a serious injury. He was accustomed to the atmosphere of loneliness.  Peter chose the path to the west and wandered across the rooftops in that direction, using the web. He didn't feel powerless without the latest technological quirks and artificial intelligence.  After all, it was during this period of his life that Parker learned a lesson from Tony Stark that he was a hero without all this. Some streets passed without lighting and Peter looked carefully to see if there was some kind of brawl there, or if he could fly past. Some companies were noisy, but everything was quiet.  For a moment he felt like an older version of himself.  It was as if during these two days of the teenager’s life he had forgotten what an unhappy and gray life he had lived before. 

However today in particular was quite different. Because Peter was reaching Stark Industries. Again. He rose up trying to ignore this inner filling which was telling him to speak with his friends. In the moment when both two friends were looking at him with a shock Peter understood how he could hurt them. Even when they don't realize this, Ned and Michelle always wanted to help people by heart. Because that was the point of friendship. And Peter gave it up. So even now telling Ned about feelings he had to MJ was foolish and unreasonable. He had to explain himself at least. Or just tell them the truth…

Nevertheless, the night was quite, his stomach was not sick and May was going to return home in a few hours. The second chance to secretly find Tony had come up to Peter after he finished his work with a suit. Kind of déjà vu. Jumping out the window as soon as getting a new costume. He already saw the outlines of a high and massive building which was full of life and technologies these years. Frankly speaking, Peter missed it. After losing Tony it became difficult to fly and even walk past Stark In knowing that there is nothing inside which was connected to his mentor; knowing that the whole era of battles and great friendship melted within the walls of this building, leaving nothing behind. And losing everyone this tower started to remind him about his loneliness every time Peter looked at it. 

For the first time since he lost Tony he was seeing hope right now.

The lightnings were on. Even in the evening, the building radiated life and showed that there were people there, they were working, walking on the floors, developing projects, talking to Tony. Peter still could not believe that he so stupidly, naively forgot about Tony Stark on the second morning of his stay in this parallel world.

He descended to the roof of the nearest building, calculating how best to get inside. Despite the late hour, there were plenty of people at that time, mostly scientists. Still, they were taking something after their boss. It won't be difficult to find an open window, it won't be difficult to convince the AI not to inform Tony about his arrival.  To see Tony himself... Well.

One open window, two words in the direction of AI, three steps to the hatch on the ceiling and four minutes of breath and the realization that he is once again in the alma mater of the technological process of all America. Now five. Five turns along the way until Peter sees him. Only 5 steps. And Tony Stark is in his workshop in a dirty oily tank top typing something on the laptop. Determined and concentrated. As always. The first thought which appeared in Peter's mind was “I forgot he was that young”. However he wasn't. A few gray strands, wrinkles (Peter thanked to his supervision), and sparkles in the eyes. His hair was a mess, it was clear Stark was in this room the whole day, looking on the table with empty pizza box bags under his eyes. Nevertheless he was happy. The AC/DC was playing out loud, Dum-E was moving around tending to help and U was steadily sitting in the corner, perhaps Tony already told him something.

The man murmured something, frowned and went to another corner dealing with some mechanisms. This moment Peter just sat, leaned his head on the metal wall of the tube and started to observe his mentor closely. 

That Saturday the music played calmly and quietly and two men were engrossed in their work.

“Mr Stark”

“Yes, kiddo” answered Tony

“I have a question. I mean. In general not only question but now it’s just a question and if you don’t want to you shouldn’t–”

“Calm down, boy, stop, steady” Tony turned from his table and put all his attention on Peter ‘oh my god it is even more inconvenient’ “What’s the matter?”

“I just. We have a project at school and I even drew some layout and I have an idea in my head but it’s still kinda messy and maybe if you look at it it’ll be more clear cause now i’m a bit. You know” He ended his speech trying to avoid a straight eye contact and was waiting for Tony’s answer as if he could say anything other than

“Where’s layout”

The table with his day's work was put off and the chair was relocated to Peter's messy table with a lot of drawings and candy wrappers. The music was still leisurely playing and the boys were working the same way, only now Tony's hand was constantly drawing something on Peter's paper and the boy's smile, to the surprise of Stark himself, charged him better than yesterday's cup of unfinished coffee. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder at some point starting to talk about Peter's school, about Tony's youth, about Ted (“Mr. Stark, it’s Ned”) and about the mysterious girl who Peter liked. The next thing Peter remembers is Tony's voice hoarse from long conversations, and the next moment he wakes up on the sofa covered with a blanket. Tony's cup of coffee still stands still on his desk, and all the necessary materials for the project are in a box next to the drawings on which Tony said in the evening “You did it, kid? I’m impressed”

“Where have you been, Peter, dear?” 

Nine o'clock in the night, the sun set a few hours ago, all libraries ended working a few hours ago as well, Ned was having family dinner and Peter was absolutely puzzled on what to tell his aunt without upsetting her and lying. The “just 5 minutes” time somehow extended to “fifteen minutes more” and he realized he spent more than fifteen minutes sitting right in front of previously dead body when mister Stark started to brew the coffee, which he usually did somewhere closer to midnight. Peter looked at his phone with four missed calls and twenty (what he even was writing) messages of Ned and two missed calls of aunt May. That's why he was standing in the corridor of his house before May trying to find the best words to explain himself.

“Well, I wanted to meet my old friend”

“What friend?” May frowned, wiping her wet hands with a towel.

“I’m sure you don’t know him. And I didn’t speak to him anyway”

“What are you talking about, Peter?”

He just showed his aunt a vague smile and went past her to the kitchen. “Did you like the pasta I made?”

She followed him with a towel in her one hand looking a bit confused but the reminder of pasta which was waiting for her when May came home after work warmed her heart. Her shoulders relaxed and the lines on her forehead smoothed as she looked down at the pan of an already cold dinner.

“It was so good, Peter. Did you make it by yourself?”

“Of course, who else could do it” he came up to the cooker and started filling his plate with the pasta.

“I didn’t imagine you could cook that good” May laughed and Peter had to keep his smile alive ‘of course May you didn’t. It was something an adult has to learn in adulthood’. “Anyway, what’s new in school?”

Good question. 

“Well, it seems like I confessed my feelings in front of the girl while I didn’t mean to. I was just speaking with Ned and then she unexpectedly popped up  and I was shocked and Ned and. What I want to say – I just ran away”

“Oh dear”

And the next thing May did was to lead them into the living room on the sofa and begin to talk. They talked for a long time. After a long time, May finally started talking about Ben and sharing the stories of how they met and how May decided to confess her feelings to Ben. Peter was sitting and listening. He finally felt May's warm hand and lively smile when she talked about the love of her life. He knew she never regretted what she did. She never regretted anything, and the memory of Ben was always bright and joyful with a slight sadness. This evening was the same, old memories rushed around the room showing the uncle sitting on the same sofa, his laugh, the checkered red shirt that May still wears to this day. And then May started talking about him, Peter. She told how she held him in her arms for the first time and how funny he was. How they tried to find a connection again after the death of Peter's parents. And the boy listened and listened to everything, sitting in the arms of the woman who raised him, and for this evening he forgot that once, a couple of days ago, he was sitting in a cold gray apartment without a single living soul who would care about him.

“So you’re telling me you did confess?” a nod. “And ran?” a second nod. “That is why you were nobody knows where?” she ran her hand through his tangled curls.

“No. I mean yes but. That is so complicated. I love her. I really do, May. She and Ned are my closest friends, I would do everything for them”. ‘I understood it recently’

“Doesn't that mean they should know it?”

“You know, I'm afraid this girl doesn't even know who I am”

“Then tell her”. The aunt didn't show even a bit of confusion, she said what she felt, what she knew was right, because a few decades ago she did the same to her love. She just told. “Peter, I don't know what's happening in your life, I just feel that something is wrong. At least because you hadn't burned the kitchen.” both giggled. “Whatever happens, Peter, know, I'm right here, okay? It's just me and you” she kissed his forehead and at this moment Peter is on edge of starting to cry.

It's just me and you.

The night passed without sleep. Peter tossed on one side of the bed replaying the stories in his head, remembering the battle with Thanos, the flight into space, May's last words before she died. He always believed that he had no one but May. Parents, Ben, Tony, people who were in his life always left. And only May remained to say that everything is fine. And when they were gone, he made the biggest mistake in his life. He believed that he really had no one else. But by doing so, he caused such pain to MJ and Ned. People who supported him from the beginning to the end. Peter used to think that they deserved a quiet life, but now he finally realized that they deserved the truth. They had to have a decision. And he stole this decision from them.

The next morning he got up, got himself together and, leaving the apartment, wrote to Ned and MJ (he remembered her number by heart) to meet near the school in the closest cafe.  The wait was nervous. Peter managed to ruin all the paper straws on the table and a couple of napkins before Ned entered the building. He looked less nervous but more confused. All his calls and messages remained unanswered since yesterday, even the last one at two in the morning "Did you do the last math exercise?".

“I didn't”

“What?”

“I didn't do the last exercise”

“Dude you're serious? So you even get how nervous I was yesterday? What even happened?” 

“I would like to know that as well” her voice came out of nowhere when Peter understood she had entered the cafe a few seconds ago.

“Please, calm down. I– Okay, let's have seats first of all, alright?” Peter never felt this kind of nervousness. He waited for the moment when they both took seats and continued “What I’m going to tell you right now may seem crazy and unrealistic. Especially, MJ, for you”

But MJ looked carelessly at all, having her eyes on him, listening and waiting for his next words. She was beautiful today, Peter couldn’t explain how but her hair was tidy and the t-shirt was even ironed. One moment Peter was just sitting a bit puzzled and the next moment he wanted to sink into the ground because it was a shame. He wrote “Let’s meet today before school” , nothing about Ned, nothing about very mindful and important information she needs to consume in this meeting. And the last moment the saw each other was when Peter was crying about his eternal feelings for MJ, she certainly had a different thought about today and Peter was such a loser if he couldn’t imagine this scenario.

“Guys, MJ, firstly, I am–”

The desperate steam came out of the window and the next moment the glass flew all over the room, scaring all the visitors. And while Ned clumsily but skillfully helped other people, managing to hide behind the table, the second the windows flew open, Peter quickly picked up MJ, hiding her behind him. There was silence. The heavy breathing of people and screams from somewhere in the distance hinted at a new danger that could await them.

Peter looked at scared MJ, trying to understand if she’s alright.

“I’m okay, Parker, calm down” she said quietly but a bit irritated.

“I gotta go”

Michelle raised her eyebrows and said sarcastically “Oh you gotta go, really?”

“Yes. Cause the thing I wanted to tell you is that I am Spider Man”

When he let MJ go, Peter didn't look her in the eye for fear of seeing a reaction, as if she might somehow be rude. He didn’t doubt that somehow MDd could already know who Peter was. But still, after making sure that she and Ned were safe and so were the other patrons of the cafe, he ran around the nearest corner of the building and took out his new suit from the bottom of his backpack.

The day began very colorfully.

Chapter Text

“Sir, you’ve asked to report you about any accidents connected to Spider-man” a mechanical voice echoed throughout the room.

That was Friday, Tony Stark’s AI, the person who was lying on the sofa struggling with sleep deprivation. To count, the approximate time of his sleeping hours would incline to five, taking into account three days. That's why he couldn't properly analyze the information given to him. “What’s that, Friday?”

“Peter Parker is fighting with weapons classified as B”. 

The classification in Tony’s company was clear as a day. ‘B’ meant bad. And by bad it meant goddam freaking bad somebody can die. So as far as Tony understood it, he was already on his feet winding over the screens. Despite the fact that he was practically living in his workshop these last few days, the room itself looked quite alright. There were some empty cups with forgotten coffee, one mug with tea (it was brought by Pepper and he couldn't help but to drink it to the bottom) and a box of pizza laying on the sofa. Nice, he thought, I have dinner.

“Show me”

So she did and the man was exposed to many frames of a heavy fight along New York’s street. He noticed a red spot instantly “Zoom in. Follow” Red tired eyes were still able to catch Spider Man still tracking the news of an accident. “Who are they?”

As Friday was tracking Peter down (which was a bit problematic as the suit the boy used to have was gone, laying in a case just in a few steps ahead of Tony – that was the first time he regretted for the decision of taking it away) she found all needed information about the main events of a day

The calm morning of the city of New York was interrupted by a new attack by unknown criminals. A group of attackers organized an attack on the city center using an unknown weapon. At the moment, it is known about some destruction of two cafeterias. There are no victims. Law enforcement agencies are not releasing information or sharing details about whether this attack is related to the two recent ones. What we currently know is that Spider-Man is already in a hurry to save the citizens of the city.

“Sir, I tracked him.” The next moment the AI was showing the streets Spider-man was crossing, in a second there were videos from cameras, with an awful black-and-white quality.

Still dizzy because of the little vague nap, Tony was looking at the screen meticulously noticing every detail from it; he was ready to put his costume on, his head had already had estimated the time he would need to reach Peter, everything was ready, just one inaccurate movement, one little, tiny threat.. But minutes passed and the tension eventually relieved, forcing the man to lean on a chair, watching the fight. How many minutes had passed? He didn’t really know, it was just him and the fight on the screen. When his mind was clear, Tony managed to ask Friday “What do you see?”

How could one little teen with some tiny superpowers (yes, whatever) possibly deal with seven heavy men who were raised to kill? And God, the weapons, the goddamn freaking killing weapons out of this planet were just glued to one of the walls of the nearest building as it was just some fucking water pistol in hands of five-odd old kid. Tony needed a mirror. He needed to see how much grey hair he’d gotten.

“I see Peter Parker, Mr Stark, your protege who was carelessly taken away of his costume” Tony could identify a hint of judgment from her.

“Thank you for bringing up my mistakes, Friday. Now show me the last frames of him fighting” The videos were on play immediately, taken out of the archives. Tony was shown dozens of materials with Spider-Man. And in all of these parts he saw the same – the fighting boy, the fighting teenage boy with a superpower. The first video showed Tony a clumsy rescue of a cat from the tree, another his quick but still chaotic movements against a thief. He was a boy who had never been taught how to fight, Peter’s posture was week and the movements too sharp, the hand on another video just pushed the poor man into a bricked wall and–

“Wait what?” Tony froze. “Love, once more this video”.

Friday expanded the view on the whole screen and showed him what was asked. A video where his little boy fought three big men and slammed one of them into the wall in a moment.

“When?--”

“This week, sir”

“Show me the previous week”

Another boy. Just another Peter, clumsy, little, desperate, his kiddo. Who was… Who was the one fighting right now? Tony closed the tabs looking at the news again. All the bad guys were lying on the road half-dead. The Wrong Peter stood there and looked at the scene with no emotions through his mask, as though it wasn't a hard fight to him, he had had worse. 

The evil was defeated, and Spider-Man was moving away.

He needed answers. Now.

This wasn't actually a hard fight, Peter thought. He had had worse. Take for example that one with Thanos where he had literally disappeared for five years or with the creepy man who claimed himself a friend but appeared a traitor and– Well, tough year, definitely.. These were just big guys with muscles, nothing supernatural or outstanding. 

The citizens seemed to understand that the fight was over and started to come closer, Peter already had somebody called for the autograph. He didn't deserve it. He wasn't supposed to stay here and act like their Spider Man, there was still a boy who had to learn how to fight and defend himself and he was taking it from him.

Not ready for all those people coming too close to him he would call it a day and quickly dismiss himself, turning to one of the bystreets. Now, passing the buildings he had time to think what to do with Michelle. His Michelle is undoubtedly smart, but this MJ (undoubtedly still a big smart ass) is a schoolgirl who was painting pathetic physiognomies of her classmates in free time. What was she supposed to do with all this “I am Spider-man” stuff? He needed to make sure that she and Ned were safe and…

As he turned the corner, Peter's ears began to ring. Had those two or three shots really damaged his ears that much? But the buzzing didn't stop, moreover it only grew louder, until he realized what it actually was.

“Shooters down, boy” Peter froze. Just behind him. The voice. That was… What was he asking? “Shooters. On the ground”. Right… Wait what?

“I… I don't understand” still standing behind the man he felt him breathing. Felt the hand which is directed at him and ready to shoot from the repulsors. 

“I'm an old man but not slow, little pest, one incorrect movement and these huge deadly weapons will be right into you, gotcha?” 

He… threatened him? Peter? A teen? He didn't want to test fate a second time, not that this would be his first death, this body was still not his, but little Peter's, so he wanted to return it relatively intact. At least not killed. The shooters were dropped instantly. The man’s hand was still behind him.

“What's next?” he asked quietly.

“Turn around. Slowly”

His hoarse, emotionless voice hit Peter harder than all the past traumas. But even then, even so, he was ready to listen to him constantly. He was ready to be hated, to be threatened, to be distrusted, just to hear, to see that Tony was alive. Therefore, turning to face him, slowly, as he said, he did not orient himself when he held his breath. Maybe when he saw the open face of his mentor. Or when perceived how close he was standing to him. Or the fact that he still heard the beating of his heart. Alive, healthy, and not having slept for several days for certain, a light stubble appeared on his chin, his hair was not combed, a few wrinkles, light bruises under his eyes.. Eyes full of suspicion. But what had he done? Had he figured somehow out that his Pete is not his Pete? Did he want to torture him and kill? 

“Take off your mask, imposter”

Of course he knew. He was Tony ‘genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’ Stark.

“Tony—”

“Take it off, now!” the hatred on his face spread, the readiness to shoot. 

With a moment he did as he was asked. The mask was off and revealed the eyes, and only then Peter realised that his blurred vision was because of tears, already flowing down his cheeks. The moment of realisation on Tony's face came instantly and the hand dropped. 

“Peter?”

He didn't know.

“Tony”

“Goddamn it, kiddo, I–” He came out of the costume still confused. Now his eyes were full of worrying. “Are you– Are you alright? No injuries?” He approached Peter and began to examine him, turning his arms and head, trying to find any sign of injury.

But Peter continued looking bluntly right into his eyes, wanting to do only one thing. And when Tony finally pulled away from him, making sure the child was safe, Peter pressed his face to Tony's chest, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Alive.

He didn't know what the man was thinking and he didn't actually care because his first priority was to do what he didn't have a possibility to do all these years, all this time – just to hug him. He held Tony tightly, feeling the reactor a few centimeters away from him, and then Mr. Stark slowly lowered his hands to his back, calming him down. “Kid…”. Tony Stark sounded dumbfounded. He had been so miserable but he could not… 

Peter had to pull away, fighting back his tears, even though he wanted to keep sobbing into his mentor's shoulder. 

“I'm sorry” finally came out of his mouth.

“What are you sorry about, kid, that's me who wanted to harm his intern. I had just, I'd thought that it wasn't you, you know. Someone else in your costume.” despite the total bewilderness, this man still was able to joke “Gotta call Pepper to make docs for retirement”

“You gotta wait ten years for your retirement age” They smiled. 

Now, he had a possibility. He could go to Tony's workshop and talk to him about his new inventions, continue patrolling, get his suit back, and live the life he had before. But it was already there. He had those hours with Tony, he sat next to him, tinkering, asking him a million questions a minute. And somewhere there was still that Peter Parker who didn't have it. The fifteen-year-old boy with so many adventures ahead of him. And it wasn't his right to take it all away

Tony's hand was still laying on Peter's shoulder and Peter could stand the idea of him saying the next words to Tony.

“I’m being sorry, Tony, because you were right”

“What do you mean? The last time I checked this baby face belonged to Peter Parker”.

“I mean that I'm not your Peter Parker, Tony. I'm… I'm not from this Universe, this is not my body and this is not my life, and I don't know where your Peter is and what's most important, I don't know how to turn everything back. I'm imposter. You were right. I'm not him. And I'm sorry”.

Silence fell over them.

“Boy, let's go to the medbay, okay?” The hand on my shoulder tensed.

“I'm not– Listen, Tony, I know, this sounds insane, and it's not time yet, but you need to know that there are different universes, thousands of them, with different lives, maybe cities and absolutely different plots. I am not this Peter Parker, I'm eighteen, I'm from 2025. Just think about it. How did you understand that I am not him?”

He saw how Tony's face became concerned. “Well seeing how a teenage boy handles those pricks full of muscles sends some suspicion”. 

That was the answer? He was fighting well?

“But that does not prove everything, I still think we need to go to the hospital, boy, I swore on life to your pretty aunt that you'll be safe with me so…”

“Man, your colleague is a Scandinavian God, you were fighting with aliens and soon, if everything will go how it should, you'll meet a speaking raccoon, so please don't tell me that ‘Me’ from the future doesn't seem unrealistic. And why did aunt May even needed to say things like that? Hadn't we just said to her about an internship?”

“That's the exact reason for it, an internship with Tony Stark, sounds pretty menacing” He took his phone out of his sweatpants and texted, most likely, Friday. The next second, the suit closed and flew to the StarkIn. “Common, let's go get some cheap street food, I'm eager to taste something deadly dangerous to my organism” 

“I'm still in my suit” He ran his hands over the tattered and dirty suit. The biggest downside of such fabric is that it will have to be washed and cleaned more often. Unlike the past spandex suit

“I'm not looking” Tony instantly closed his eyes meaning that he won't look at him while he was changing the clothes.

“Well, thanks for the privacy” Peter picked up a hidden rucksack and started changing.

“Where did you get such a flabbergasting suit?” This question instantly transported him back years to when Tony first came into his room and began to wonder about his very first, funniest costume, cobbled together from scrap materials.

“Well, I sewed it”.

Next words were full of shock “You did what?”

“I mean, i thought that's a basic skill when you're eighteen” He omitted the moment where he pierced all his fingers and wasted dozens of meters of fabric to learn these basic skills.

“Old Tony was broke and ran out of spandex?”

“Well,” he said, finally putting his suit into the bag, he preferred not telling him much about the future. Especially the future without him. “Not really this reason”. 

“Okay, older Spidey, I know one amazing place nearby”

Just a small resto with sandwiches drowning in grease and Coke, this was the place Tony had in mind.

“Had some work meetings here” he mentioned.

Peter looked like he didn't mind though. He sat and said something about his friends and started texting on his phone. Perhaps wanted to make sure they were safe.

Finally Tony had time to have a look at the boy. He was the same. Same face, same body, same voice. And just this look... Before, his eyes shone and sparkled, he was filled with ideas, ready to talk for hours with anyone, explaining his thoughts, telling something, any detail. But now, Tony did not see this shine, as if something had died in him, and even another body could not hide the pain and sadness he was experiencing. No, this was not the same Peter. Not the little boy with whom he had recently had a fight over the steamer. 

God, what had he managed to go through?...

After texting went the phone call “Hello May! No, don't worry, I'm safe and healthy and hey look, I've met Tony Stark” Peter said it with the intention to calm her down, which never works because it is Tony Stark but nothing could prepare Tony himself to listen to the next phrase “I didn't say he's a responsible adult, we're gonna eat some unhealthy greasy burgers. I promise I'm okay. No school today, got you. Be back as soon as I can. And I love you”.

“Everyone's good?” Tony asked when they were given two portions of ‘unhealthy greasy burgers’

“Well yes, May’s at work right now, there are a few victims with a mild concussion or minor injuries but nothing more. And Ned and MJ were safely taken home by the police, just after I left them. School is cancelled”.

Their quiet meal began. They ate in silence, exchanging light phrases. Tony still couldn't get used to it, but he couldn't be against that “Mr. Stark” had turned into Tony. It let him know that if this guy was really from the future, Peter would finally drop the boring formalities and feel comfortable enough to use his name.

“So how did you happen here?” He asked one of the most important questions which interested him. Observing Peter's face he could say that wasn't a question he was willing to answer.

“I died”.

What?...

“I… I was fighting and failed and well, at least I saved those people so… The next thing I know is me sleeping in my old bed”

“Peter, I…” What is supposed to be said in such situations? He died being so young and nevertheless what was important to him is people's safety, not his survival. He ‘failed’ he said. How he could possibly fail when it is Tony the one who did. Who promised to take care of a child because he was his responsibility. And he died. He will die. 

“It's not your fault, Tony, you could do nothing”

“No I could. Of course I could”

“Believe me no” And gazing at his face he saw something that made Tony stop arguing. He didn't know a lot. “I went to one guy, he kinda protects our planet, but it appeared that he didn't sign up for a job yet. That means I need to wait. And keep everything together”

“Anyone else knows?”

“Just you”. He whispered. 

“And why did you tell me?” Tony was simply curious. Among all people who were close to Peter – May, Ned, this mysterious MJ – he couldn't quite understand why he became the person who was allowed to know the truth.

“I thought it would be unfair. That you wouldn't know who I am before—”

“And who are you?”

“I'm imposter” he said immediately and Tony had to keep his breath steady because what this depressive piece of a teenager thought about himself?

“That's not your name Peter Benjamin Parker”

“Well I'm basically not that Peter that you know”

“Do you still save everyone sacrificing your life insanely? Don't answer this question, it's rhetorical I know you do. Do you still look at your muscles when you're naked in front of the mirror?”

“That was just once!”

“Knew you’d say this. What I mean, Peter, you are the same”.

“You don't understand”

“Sure, how could I” He held back from rolling his eyes at this childish exaggeration. Peter's serious gaze held him, he knew that he still didn't understand something. For the first time in many years. “But I would really like to”.

“I don't think it's legal to spoiler the future” He made such a funny face that Tony couldn't help but smiled.

“Alright, kiddo, that's what we do right now. You call your beautiful auntie and tell her that you'll be safe and surrounded by the highest security in New York, StarkIn, we're gonna work on some project”.

The suggestion cheered him up. They will start with the little. Tony needed to know what happened to the boy.

Chapter Text

May said nothing good about this idea so Peter headed home. Being fifteen years old gave you less mobility as you used to have, thought Peter. However, Mr. Stark suggested that they catch up tomorrow after his Decathlon training. “Happy will pick you up”. 

It had been a very strange day, Peter thought, sitting on the sofa with May in the evening. A film was playing on the television, but Peter did not disturb it at all, his head resting on May's shoulder, her hands stroking his hair. The movements were very pleasant. He really liked it here. Having May stroking his hair every evening, feeling her presence at home, knowing that she's here, with him. He was missing this constantly in his old apartment after everything had gone to hell. Sitting there now felt like nothing of those just happened. He could pretend, could ignore his conscience, but the fact would remain – It wasn't his life anymore.

“Last night you said you would always be with me” he murmured in her shirt. 

The slow movements on his head stopped, just for a bit, before May continued. “I did”.

“No matter what”.

“No matter what”. She confirmed “Why?”

“Just needed to hear it”. He hugged her lightly, hiding his face into her shoulder, feeling the vibration from her light laughter.

“Assume you didn't talk to your mysterious girl”.

“Well, not really, ya know, all those bad guys with unearthly flamethrowers running around the city, looked kinda disturbing”. He tried to crack a joke but only felt how May’s body tensed. Well yes, she sounded extremely nervous when called Peter after hearing out of the incident. “And then I met Stark and…”

“M not sure what's worse”

“Hey” She giggled, petting his head. “But I'm serious. Tell her, explain to her everything, I think she deserves it”.

“She deserves everything”. Peter agreed, feeling his eyelids become heavy.

So today he was going to school again. God, earlier he had been doing it every day. Going to school, actually studying. His constant work, patrols, injuries, fatigue, did not give Peter much opportunity to study, especially without school. He sometimes sat in the library, solved problems, continued to study physics at the university level, but he was terribly upset to admit it, he did not feel like studying at all and he did not pick up anything new. But now he feared what he had to do with Michelle. Well, Ned as well, but he thought in this situation, MJ had more questions.

But he didn't see her in the first lesson. And only in the second did Ned come running, saying that his alarm clock was broken. Whatever the end of the universe was, Ned remained Ned. No one cared about him and even Flash avoided him after the last incident. It was for the best, Peter wouldn't feel good if he had to bully a teenager smaller than him without superpowers again. And only at lunch, as soon as he and Ned crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, a girl attacked them (only Peter). And no matter how much Peter wanted it, it wasn't MJ. Worlds had to collide for her to embrace him in public and it was even proven last year.

“Peter, nice to meet you! Yesterday's incident ruined some of my plans but anyway—”

What. The. Hell.

“Liz?”

“Yeah, sorry for bumping into you so unexpectedly, I know we didn't talk a lot and I'm probably mumbling right now, what I'm trying to say.. Well.. I've been observing you for a while…” what the hell “And I've heard that you have as well so I kinda was waiting. For things. But it's just a few days before Homecoming and everybody already has dates and I’m not and I thought maybe you're just shy which is probably okay, I'm not saying anything bad, so I just decided to come up and ask directly to go with me to the party”.

Did she just…?

Did he…?

“Liz” Peter stopped. He needed to think. Very hard.

“Yes, I'm listening” God, he didn't have time to think 

“Of course he'll go with you” 

Who said that? Ned beamed with a smile coming closer to two of them.

“Really? Oh that's so lovely—” The girl started at this point, certainly being relieved, what is incorrect to say about Peter, who tensed even hardly. 

“No!” 

Both Ned and Liz turned to look at Peter, who yelled ‘no’ in front of the whole school. Officially, Peter ditched one of the most popular girls in the school. And officially, Peter called himself an idiot. He was out of practice with all this school-ish drama.

“I'm— Liz, I'm really sorry, but see, I already have a date.” That was it. He already felt how her eyes began watering. 

“I thought…” she looked at his eyes, too confused to continue the sentence.

“I'm really sorry, you're nice and…” And what? What could he tell about this girl? 

If you had asked him a couple of years ago, he would have probably pulled out a long list of Liz's best qualities, which he had somehow discovered through their minimal communication during the Decathlon days. But now, if someone asked Peter to talk about the girl he loved, he would start talking about Michelle. About the bright smile that was sometimes so hard to find on her face, about the sparkling eyes when she shut everyone's mouths again with her genius, about her curls, and how soft they are to the touch, and also about her delicate skin and long eyelashes and charming eyes, and if you get really close to them you can see the slight difference in height in her favor and how he found it charming. He could write a whole book about Michelle, about all her perfect flaws and sharp mind and graceful expressions, about evening meetings and morning coffee dates, passionate words and quiet kisses. His own Michelle, whom he had betrayed without realizing it. 

And now Liz stood in front of him, crying, waiting for an answer.

“I'm sorry, Liz”. 

And then she went away. 

“Dude…” Peter didn't have explanations for Ned.

Michelle wasn't there.

Peter Parker could barely restrain himself from running up the steps to the school parking lot. The Decathlon meeting, the most uncomfortable and stressful Decathlon meeting, had already ended and the boy was walking towards the waiting Happy Hogan. He could just catch a glimpse of a massive silhouette in a black suit, fiddling with something on his phone.

The training lasted about two hours. Two hours where Liz Allen had completely ignored him. Two hours without MJ. 

Just in an hour he couldn't help but wrote to her. The simple: 

Hey, It's Peter, didn't see u today, you ok?

Not that he had her phone number at this period of time, Peter had it carved into his memory since their first real communication together with Ned. Apparently, the phone number was the same. He really hoped.

Maybe Ned was right and Peter should have behaved more restrainedly with Michelle. But how could Peter explain to his friend that he's not his friend? Ned was Ned and he was cool and Peter Parker's mate and he could keep the secret undoubtedly. However, wouldn't it be too much for a teen to deal with? Now Peter had Tony, he had a person who helped him to carry this burden. For now, it was enough. Though it wasn't enough with Michelle, Peter never stopped thinking about why she decided to skip school today. Because clearly, hearing from your classmate the love declarations and “I am Spider Man” after years of ignoring each other wasn't a big deal, was it? 

Peter approached Happy and sighed heavily.

“Get in, kid,” the man quickly said to him, walking around the car.

And Parker stood. He hadn’t seen him since that day at May’s grave, just as broken as he was, sharing his grief with a stranger. The guy didn’t know exactly what happened to their relationship. In this chaos of revealing identities, and then different Universes, Spider-Men and villains, he didn’t have time to inquire. But what Peter knew for sure was that Hogan loved his aunt. He was a sullen, order-obsessed grumbler, but he was also a person with his own feelings and emotions. And Parker liked this grumbler, whom he missed no less than his friends. So when Happy opened the car door, he glanced at the guy and saw tears in his eyes.

“Are you in trouble? Are you hurt?” the man frowned.

Peter didn't know if he was being caring or asking to reduce the amount of trouble the guy was causing, but Parker just smiled as best he could, quickly wiped his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and opened the door to the back seats:

“Everythin’ fine, Mr. Hogan”. He frowned even more and got into the car, occasionally glancing at Stark's ward during the entire ride.

That evening was a blessing to Peter Parker. He felt so much joy, he hadn't felt since everyone forgot him. Since his first priority became to survive in this world. Now, ordering a huge pizza and laughing at Tony's weak attempts to reassure him of having pineapple on it, Peter felt radiant.

They were in the tower. Peter Parker was in the tower. In the tower that was sold in the future, where all the Avengers had gathered in their time. But now there should be no one there. Half of the Avengers had turned against Tony Stark and were in a lot of trouble. Tony was alone. The two of them sat in the lab until late in the evening. They were talking a lot. Peter said about their work together in the workshop and just tiny, really small innovations in technologies (“I knew I would be able to construct a suit with nanoparticles which could deploy over my body, thanks, Pete”). And if the conversation went deeper and touched something Peter knew he wasn’t supposed to say to him, he would change the topic. Well, at least something he could tell.

“Tony, theoretically if I knew who the Vulture is, what would you do with this information?” Peter knew he was bad at hiding..

“Well, just theoretically,” Tony looked nonchalantly continuing his idea. “I would knock on his door and kindly ask to stop violating the peace of New York citizens. And sure thing”. Peter raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I would just grab him and throw into the river”

“Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn't tell you”.

“Look at him, little adult Avenger” Tony teased him, while Peter was collecting some instruments on the table.

“Well actually–”

“Don't tell me I allowed you to join to our dream team, I don't want to be the worst adult ever”

“Don’t worry, it was actually in my seventeens” He growled putting his head on his hands mumbling something about aunt and killing. “But I feel that I need to tell you. In my reality, I dealt with it and–”

“You did what?!” Tony immediately looked at him. “Where was I?”

“Uhm.. You… kinda looked angry the last time I saw you here”.

“That doesn't… Peter” now he was serious. “I may come across as a very inadequate and self-centered person. And well, that's true, really, no objections. But I took care of you. And your safety was and will be my responsibility. Because the day I met you, and for you it was quite a long time ago, I saw everything I would like to see more of in people. And in myself as well”.

“Tony…” 

“And that day, when I took away your suit. Well… What I want to say…” Peter held his breath as he listened to this speech. “That is…”

“I suppose,” Friday's voice came out of nowhere. “The boss wants to say that his decision to take away the costume was unreasonable and emotional and He shouldn't have done that beforehand”. 

“Oh” Was Pete's answer.

He had never had the chance to talk so sincerely and honestly with Tony. He was like a father to him, and they spent a lot of time together in the lab or even with May, at dinners together. They talked about science, about the future, about Peter's girlfriend (Pete, is she threatening me?), but the past always remained in the past. Perhaps Peter thought now, such conversations would have healed his wounds. Perhaps this way Peter would have become even closer to Tony.

He didn't have a chance to answer, he was disturbed by his aunt, asking him not to stay late and to return home. The guy understood that sooner or later it would come. He would have to say goodbye to Mr. Stark once again, and again forever. This thought pinched his heart. He looked at the calm Tony and felt sick. From all the hopelessness and injustice in which he found himself. Giving Peter the opportunity to meet Tony seemed like a gift, until he sat there, in the chair of the workshop, gasping for air, realizing that he would have to say goodbye to him. Perhaps not now and not tomorrow, but this time will come. He would not be able to continue living this life, knowing that another Peter Parker had lost this privilege. So he just enjoyed the moment, feeling an incomparable longing for the past.

“Hey, Spidey, you okay?” Tony touched his back. Peter flinched at the touch, still not used to sudden contacts with people, especially those who used to be dead in his mind.

“That’s fine. I just…” A sad smile pierced his face “I missed it”

Peter slowly stood up, stretching. The air was still filled with the aroma of fresh pizza and recently brewed coffee. Parts were scattered on the tables, creating a personal Stark mess. Everything was vividly reminiscent of a normal lab evening, when Peter stayed late and his aunt grumbled with Tony about the curfew. Everything screamed that the guy would come the next day again to the smell of machine oil, Tony's playlist and dim lights, which the man kept lowering due to Spider's supersensitivity. But what hit him harder was that he wouldn't experience it anymore. Everything would come to its end in a couple of years. Expensive colognes had long been lying in boxes with Iron Man's things somewhere at Pepper's, the Workshop no longer saw its permanent faces after the sale, and Tony's cheerful smiling expression had gone forever with his last words.

“Don’t we meet often in the future? Or you're a busy student now, are you?” Tony grinned.

The guy slowly walked to the couch, picking up his backpack, trying to think of an answer to this painful question, and only now noticed the crumpled dark sweater lying on the other side of the couch. The M.I.T. sweater, Peter's favorite sweater, which he wore almost every day in his world. The sweater that became an eternal reminder of the brilliant Tony Stark, who had completed his full education at fifteen. Of the brilliant Tony Stark, who had saved the world. Of that very Tony Stark, who stood behind Spider-Man and looked suspiciously at the quiet teenager.

He could have been studying there too, among young minds of the world, but what's more important, along with Ned and Michelle, he would have studied and been a normal teenager, as much as it was possible.

“Kiddo?” Tony's voice brought him back to reality. “All this multiuniverse stuff, I got it, don't even try me, you're such a bad liar”. He turned it into a joke and continued to look nonchalant, but what Peter had learned from all these years working with his mentor was how to recognize real emotions beneath his armor of all-powerful sarcastic genius. And what he saw now was concern. So far, only that. And Peter knew that the more they talked, the more Tony saw who his protégé had become, the more he would have to hide his emotions.

“Everything will be fine. With your Peter. You… don't worry about anything. I'll handle it” He tried to put power in his voice, determination, to show that Tony could trust him, believe him, he would deal with everything–

“Kid, I don't think you understood,” he started and Peter tensed. “You are Peter Parker, I don't care how old you are or how good you are and moreover from what Universe you are, cause it's still you. You're still ….” He knew what Tony wanted to say, he felt that, nevertheless, the greatest mind of the century lacked the strength to say those words aloud. But Peter knew, and that was enough. “Still my teenage protégé. Literally a kid”

“I'm twenty and I'm an Avenger”

“That’s what a kid would say” Peter rolled his eyes. “I'm an adult here, I should solve this shit”.

These words touched him. And for a second he accepted them as reality. And then he remembered the small Peter and stopped himself.

“Yeah” He couldn't tell him. Not now. Not this moment. 

Tony didn't quite believe him but let this topic disappear, changing the route of the dialogue “So, what's up with this sweatshirt, wanna take it?” he put his gaze into M.I.T. sweatshirt.

“Don’t you worry, I will” he smiled, remembering the moment he received it. Just in this workshop. He simply hadn't thought the weather had gone so bad and thermoregulation in winter is wild so Tony just had taken pity on the boy and thrown him a sweater, not taking his eyes off his research. “You'll smear all my equipment with your snot”.

Friday reminded him about Peter's curfew. He sighed turning to the exit.

“Happy will ride you” 

“Gotcha”. He came closer waiting for the lift to arrive and decided he needed to say the next words.

“I know that you regret doing what you did. And well yes, it influenced me a lot” he started trying to avoid looking at Tony's eyes. The words he wanted to tell him now were too embarrassing but important. “But now, I understand why. You were in charge of me, I was your responsibility, as you said. And your decision to give the costume back as well. What I want to say is that maybe we are not that close now, but years later, through all the hardships and joy, you… You became more than my mentor, Tony, more than a friend. You became my family. And I appreciate it”.

He didn't want to look at him, didn't want to hear a response, so he stayed in the lift and quickly avoided further conversation, asking Friday to ride to the entrance.

“Tony” was the first thing the kid after meeting him

He was never called like that by Peter. Mister Stark, sir, Iron man sir, mister Iron Man, and a thousand other stupid variations. This time it was just Tony. He couldn't be more happy, could he?

“You became my family”

Oh boy. He couldn't. His Peter would die, now Tony knew that. He would struggle, he’d seen that looking at his eyes. How did he not save him? How did it happen? Tony looked at the sweatshirt. They would have some good moments. This boy would become his family too, he knew it. He looked at the table where Peter was working and saw a note just above all details and papers with schemes. He came closer reading it. 

Adrian Toomes

He had looked at it for minutes, maybe more, trying to accept the fact how wholly this Peter trusted him. And even though Tony had no clue why he fucked up this Peter, he also knew he'd not allow it to happen twice. He'd save him.

He'd start with a little. 

“Friday, dear, search for one guy. Doctor Stephen Strange. Real doctor though, something connected to neurosurgery, I suppose”. If this doc couldn't help his boy right now, Tony would help the doc to find his path quicker