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Peter loses his powers.
Not all at once, but it was a gradual decline that took a toll on his body. At first, he thought maybe he was just sick. Maybe it was just something he’d get over.
Injuries took a bit longer to heal.
His senses weren’t quite as sharp.
His reflexes slowed.
He was no longer a sprightly teenager, but that alone couldn’t account for the changes he was experiencing.
It wasn’t until he was pummeled by a car he normally could have evaded or caught that others took notice.
Banner explained that Peter’s mutated cells had stopped replicating. The mutation wasn’t transferring to new cells during regeneration anymore. Normally, this kind of cellular turnover would take decades—but Peter’s accelerated healing sped the process up.
It didn’t take much longer for Peter to be forced to hang up his suit.
He was devastated. He felt useless whenever he stared out his window, watching the world pass by wondering where Spider-Man went.
His stomach dropped each and every time he saw posters or signs posted around New York demanding to know why their hero was no longer there to help them.
One day, Peter finally snapped and went out donning his suit as he had a million times before. Only this time, he was completely, utterly, absolutely normal.
He knew he couldn't carry himself by web as he once had, so he made do with his two feet, walking around the city in the middle of the night.
Most people asked to pose in pictures or make TikTok videos of him under the assumption he was just a really believable street performer.
Helping an old lady across the street, getting a cat out of a tree, giving directions to other pedestrians; it was something, but it wasn't enough. He ached to feel the adrenaline pumping through him, the burning feeling of his muscles as he pushed them past their limit.
Peter's heart raced as he witnessed a man grab a woman's purse and take off with it. He may not have super powers anymore, but he was still in good enough shape to chase after the man.
Everything was routine; he had done this a million times before.
Web there.
Duck right.
Hook left.
Caught up in the flurry, he had forgotten for a moment he lost his powers until he let his guard down, resulting in a switchblade to the gut.
The adrenaline helped, but the pain of the injury along with the rapid blood loss caused him to collapse. As the thief moved to leave, Peter noticed a white light knock the man to the ground before darkness took over Peter's vision.
When he woke up, he immediately recognized he was lying on the couch in Tony's lab. He winced as he sat up, being sharply reminded of his injury. He pulled up his shirt and saw carefully placed bandages, likely covering stitches.
"You're up," Tony said, swiftly moving over to him, arms immediately folded.
Peter wasn't sure which hurt more; the injury or the look of fury that was plastered on his mentor's face.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Tony fumed. "What the hell were you even thinking?" He was exasperated, nervous energy bubbling over.
"How did you find me?" Peter asked, slowly sitting up on the couch, making it a point not to pull his stitches.
"Ah-ah, me first," Tony sassed back, rage still dancing in his eyes.
"I was trying to help," the boy muttered, his gaze looking anywhere other than Tony.
“That’s what the whole—the thing with the cat in the tree. And the thing with the Girl Scouts or—whatever.” Tony waved his finger back and forth with no real purpose. “You were helping people.”
"You know what I mean," Peter hissed back. "And what was it this time? Baby Monitor Protocol? CCTV cameras? "
“This isn't about me," the older man snapped back. "This is about you being a moron who's going to get himself killed!"
Peter flinched at the statement. Tony had scolded him dozens of times, but this felt different. This felt…cold.
Seeing the boy’s recoil caused Tony to let out a growl of frustration before relenting with a sigh and rub at the bridge of his nose. Taking in air, he attempted to cool down the blind rage running through his veins, knowing by now that snapping at Peter was never a productive solution no matter how enraged he was.
“Kid… I know this has been tough for you… I know—you’re feeling…” Tony fumbled through his words before Peter cut him off.
“You have no idea how I’m feeling,” Peter bit back.
“True. At least not in the literal sense. But I know what it’s like to feel powerless,” Tony replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
Peter sniffled, much to his dismay. “I just—all I ever wanted was to help people. I—I only ever used it to do good. I thought—it was like the spider knew who to bite.” He huffed a hollow laugh. “So stupid, I know.” He tried to subtly wipe his nose with his sleeve. “I just don’t understand why I lost it. There are hundreds of bad guys out there with all kinds of powers. So why me? Why not one of them?”
Tony paused, for once not knowing what would be the right thing to say. So, he said the truth. “Because nothing is fair.” Peter looked up at him in surprise.
“Just look at me—” the older man began to lean against the couch Peter was sitting on. “I was literally known as the Merchant of Death, and now I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, an iron legion at my disposal, a massive co—.”
He abruptly stopped as Peter’s cheeks began to burn red. “Point is… The universe doesn’t play fair.”
Peter looked up at his mentor with wide, glassy eyes. Tony’s heart crumpled up in his chest at the sight, desperately wanting to stop the tears before they had the chance to fall.
He, on the other hand, had fallen hard years ago despite his best attempts not to.
“You saved the world—countless times. You’ve saved me. You’re the proof that the universe does play fair. Just not for me,” Peter said with a weak smile.
As he blinked, a tear began to roll down his cheek only to be stopped by Tony’s callused thumb stroking it away as he cupped the younger man’s face.
Without thinking, Peter leaned into the touch, his lips grazing his mentor’s palm. His cheeks may have already been burning, but the warmth of Tony’s hand was a welcome change.
Abruptly, Tony pulled his hand away as if Peter’s lips branded his skin.
The older man adjusted his posture, feigning nonchalance. After a moment of deafening silence, he warned, “Just—keep away from it, kid. There are other things you can do to help without getting yourself killed.”
Peter left Stark Tower shortly after that, feeling the awkward tension in the room that he had inadvertently built.
Peter stayed in bed the rest of the day and most of the next.
Days then weeks passed. He watched his wound slowly heal, making sure to keep it clear from an infection his body could no longer fight. As it scabbed then scarred, Peter still felt weak.
He had tried reaching out to Tony a dozen times only to be told he was busy and locked away in his lab.
He knew the man was avoiding him, keeping him at a distance. He tried not to think of their last interaction and obsess over that being the cause of his mentor’s absence.
It hadn’t meant anything…
Right?
He figured if he says it enough times then maybe it’ll ring true.
Peter tried going out and helping people; working at a soup kitchen, volunteering down at a shelter, he tried it all. As much as his heart warmed at the sight of appreciation from everyone he helped, his heart still ached knowing he has the potential to do so much more.
Had the potential.
He thought back to each moment as Spider-Man when his powers had become too much for him to handle, the times where he was overstimulated or had too much responsibility in his hands, how he had wished to be normal.
He didn’t mean it. Had never really meant it. But perhaps for once the universe had listened. It was never supposed to be permanent.
Watching old YouTube clips of Spider-Man didn’t help matters, especially not the ones where he was moving in tandem with Iron Man, so harmoniously in sync you would think it was choreographed.
It felt like the purse snatcher had hit his heart rather than his gut when he watched those. His primary reason for being Spider-Man was to help people…but the thought of losing Mr. Stark as well sent him spiraling.
There was a pesky voice in the back of his head that fed him disparaging ideas about how Tony wasn’t speaking to him because he was just…
Boring.
Plain.
Unremarkable.
He was just like any other college kid; the ones who would beg for Tony Stark’s autograph, not be his protégé. And certainly would never be his…
Peter would always laugh when he reached that thought of his reoccurring meltdown. He knew it was delusional to think he’d ever have a chance with the Tony Stark—Spider-Man or not.
He thought about patrolling again; maybe just be a bit more careful than last time.
Every day that passed he was closer and closer to breaking.
And every day that passed, the memory of Tony’s outrage was less of a deterrent and more of an incentive.
Would Tony even bother to show up this time if he fell in harm’s way?
About a month after their last interaction, the sound of the familiar text message tone jolted Peter awake from his second nap of the day. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, making certain he was reading the sender’s name correctly.
I need to show you something.
Peter’s heart hammered in his chest as he made his way into the lab, unsure of what he might find there.
When his eyes finally reached Tony, he stopped in his tracks.
The man was disheveled, far from the debonair Tony Stark he was accustomed to seeing. He had seen the older man before at the worst of times, and even then, caked in grime and blood, he was somehow still put together.
The man before him was unshaven with greasy hair ruffled haphazardly and his eyes…
Peter had seen Tony’s eyes plenty of times when he was sleep deprived. But this…the darkness of the bags under his bloodshot eyes told the story of a man being starved of sleep.
“M-mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Peter’s voice shook. “Are you okay?”
Hearing his voice, Tony was immediately shaken out of his stupor and looked at the former spiderling with wide, enthusiastic eyes. “Yeah—yeah, Pete. Just a little tired, no biggie.”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., how long has it been since he’s slept?” he asked the AI, knowing it wasn’t in Tony’s character to disclose the actual amount.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is currently offline,” said a nondescript, robotic voice from the speakers throughout the lab.
Peter’s eyes furrowed.
That didn’t sound good. He had never heard of her being intentionally turned offline before.
“Ignore that,” Tony waved off. “She was annoying me, so I put her in a time out for awhile. It’s fine. I’ll set her right after this.”
“After what? What’s going on?” he repeated, more forcefully this time.
Once Peter had gotten closer to the other man, Tony eagerly moved two separate holographic screens for the younger man to see.
Peter squinted as he tried to process what he was seeing displayed. Despite being intelligent beyond his years, he was struggling to comprehend the significance of the codes in front of him. On one screen there appeared to be a variant of the Iron Spider suit while the other was scrolling through an endless strand of DNA.
Seeing the new suit made his heart clench up, a bitter reminder of something he’d never have again.
Surely Tony wasn’t being intentionally cruel by showing him designs he could never actually utilize?
Was it possible that he had somehow forgotten that Peter had lost his powers?
“What am I looking at?” he asked bluntly.
Tony grinned. “Options,” he replied cryptically.
He still wasn’t getting it. “What?”
“As much as I would rather you live every day wrapped head to toe in bubble wrap to keep you away from anything that could possibly hurt you, I know that’s not realistic,” Tony began to explain.
Peter blinked at him, once more wondering how long it had been since Tony had slept.
“Powers or no powers, you’re always going to be Spider-Man.” Peter opened his mouth to interject, but Stark abruptly cut him off. “Shut it, I’m monologuing.”
Peter tried to suppress a smirk.
“You’re always going to be Spider-Man. Even without that mutation coursing through your veins, it will always be with you both inside and out.
“I’ve known for a long time that I can’t stop you. I’ll admit, I was relieved for awhile when you stopped patrolling. First time in years I’ve had blood pressure in normal range.
“When you went patrolling for the first time in months—”
“But how did you—” Peter interjected before being stopped once again.
“Bup bup bup,” Tony tutted, finger to his lips. “Not important, stay focused.”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“When you started patrolling again, I thought ‘there’s no way he’s that stupid to be going out patrolling like that. He knows his suit isn’t designed to give him powers; it’s only designed to enhance them’,” Tony continued. “Clearly, I was wrong— which isn’t a phrase I’m used to saying.
“And when I saw that knife a split second too late to do anything about it…” Tony’s eyes shut for a moment, as if he was trying to blink away the memory. “I’m not sure I would have ever forgiven myself if I hadn’t been there to help you.”
“I really am sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter muttered. “I just—”
Tony put up a hand to stop him. “I get it, I do. At least I do now.”
Now Peter truly was puzzled.
“I know you.” There was hesitation in his voice as if he was unsure about disclosing a piece of classified information. “Sometimes I wonder if I know you better than I ever knew Pepper,” he smirked. “And because of that, I should have known how much it was killing you. I should have been more focused on fixing things than being selfish by wanting to keep you on the bench.”
“Fix things? I’m sorry, but I’m still really confused,” Peter said. He had hoped Tony’s explanation would clear things up, not confuse him even more. “What am I looking at?”
“Bubble wrap,” Tony beamed. “Well, metaphorical bubble wrap. And this time, you actually have a choice to make, Mr. Parker.”
“Behind door number one…” he continued, gesturing to the screen with the suit on it. “The suit. It won’t give you your powers back, but it will feel like it does.”
Wide -eyed, Peter watched as the screen began to move; a simulation including a holographic model that shared a resemblance to Peter began to leap from building to building via web while stats involving the suit specs scrolled along the side of it.
“Holy shit,” the younger man said in disbelief. “Holy sh—you mean I’ll be able to do what I used to? “
“There are a few features that need some testing, but once finished, yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying. At least while in the suit.”
Peter’s eyes darted across the hologram, absorbing as much information as he could. Seeing a name, he tilted his head. “Mark 5?”
Tony rubbed the back of his neck. “The first few weren’t—up to standard, I guess you could say. Not nearly enough bubble wrap. I may have gone a little… overboard with the restarts from scrap, but it needed to be perfect.”
Peter’s heart raced frantically in his chest, his mind reeling at his future prospects. Barely an hour ago, he couldn’t even stomach the idea of what his future could look like. And now…
“When can we get started?” He was practically vibrating, his body desperate for an adrenaline and dopamine fix.
“Just…” Tony made a pushing gesture with his hand. “You have a choice…”
“I choose it! I’m all in!” Peter beamed for the first time in months.
“You haven’t even heard what’s behind door number two,” Tony’s eyes crinkled with amusement.
Peter froze when he saw the second screen begin to take shape.
“This took a bit more time…” Tony said sheepishly.
Peter moved toward the screen in fascination as he watched a holographic spider crawl across the screen, its stats scrolling around it.
The smile dropped from his face as his mouth hung open. He may have only seen the spider once before, but he would never forget it for as long as he lived. Its long, spindly legs. Its peculiar red and blue marking across its back that inspired his color scheme when he first developed his powers.
The original spider was long since dead; the experiment itself scrapped.
“That’s—how did you?” he breathed out. “I don’t—How did you find that?” His mind was reeling while his heart was trying to keep him from jumping to conclusions that might wind up breaking it.
“I didn’t find that,” Tony admitted, very obviously amused by rendering Peter speechless. “I made it.”
Peter’s face was growing tired of flipping between looks of shock and looks of confusion. Of course, Mr. Stark had to make everything a dramatic show and wouldn’t dare reveal the ending before all the suspense the younger man could muster would be wrung from him.
“Well…” Tony amended. “Technically I didn’t biologically create a spider. I mean, I probably could if you were really banking on keeping it as a pet. But really the spider is more… symbolic.”
Peter continued to read through the slathering of data as he eagerly flipped through the content on that particular screen. “I don’t understand…”
“You do,” Stark declared matter-of-factly.
Peter finally looked away from the screen he had been staring at without blinking in order to look at his rather smug mentor. “But—the spider, the experiment; it was all destroyed. Completely scrapped. I even had F.R.I.D.A.Y. try and find it back when my powers started acting up. How?”
“It helps to be me,” he shrugged. “The tricky part was fixing it so it wouldn’t fade like the original mutation.”
Peter’s eyes lit up. “So…so I’d have it the rest of my life? It would never fade?”
“Well, that’s up to you,” Tony replied, causing Peter to remember the first screen presented to him. “You can pick the suit and only have the powers while you’re wearing it—maybe even live a relatively normal life outside of it.” He tilted his head to the side. “Or—you can pick the mutation and have your powers be a part of you for good. My only rule is you can’t ever let the government get their hands on it.”
“Why?” Peter suddenly asked.
“Let’s just say we don’t collaborate very well with each other. And they’d love to get their grubby little hands…”
“No!” Peter chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.”
Tony blinked, as if Peter was going off script in this perfectly tailored scene he had planned. “Why what?”
“Why give me a choice? Both of these must have taken you… forever to work on. Why not do just one of them? Why was it so important for you to do both?” Peter studied him intently as he moved away from the screens toward the other man.
Tony stopped, his eyes moving as if he was trying to find what page Peter’s jumped to in the scene to figure out what his line is. “You deserved to have a choice,” Tony murmured. “You were thrown into this shit so young that you never got to have a normal life. I already did enough damage dragging you in to the big leagues too soon. And I know right now all you want is to go right back into the thick of it, but you deserved to have a choice for once.”
Peter stood silently, his eyes darting back and forth between the screens. He had never really considered the possibility of a normal life. When he had powers, he never imagined they would vanish over time; he had long since accepted he’d have his powers the rest of his life.
But now he had a choice in the matter. Did he really want to have his powers back permanently? Yes, he had been miserable since they disappeared, but he had to admit, hearing absolute silence for the first time since he was fourteen was quite peaceful.
However, there were bound to be times where he wouldn’t have his suit on him when he might need it. He recalled instances of panic in the past when Tony or Rhodey’s suit would breakdown in battle after a particularly hard hit leaving them vulnerable.
There was a part of him that wished Tony had chosen for him just so he didn’t have the weight of the choice on his back.
“Or…” Tony said, breaking Peter’s internal conflict.
“Or…?” Peter trailed off.
“There is always door number three,” Tony admitted, casually rocking on the heels of his feet.
The younger man couldn’t even fathom what other tricks were up Tony’s sleeves. Having two choices meant only 50% likelihood of choosing the correct option. Now his odds were down to 33.333%.
“You could do neither,” Tony admitted much to the other man’s surprise.
Oddly enough, that had never once crossed his mind. He couldn’t possibly do that…
Right?
“Y-you would be okay with that?” Peter sputtered. His brain immediately circled back to the thoughts that plagued his mind while he had been spiraling; the thoughts of Tony growing bored of him now that he was completely and utterly normal.
Tony’s eyebrows knit. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Peter eagerly traced the lines on his face, looking for any hint of deception only to find none. “Did you miss the whole thing about the bubble wrap?”
Oh.
He had said he was relieved when Spider-Man stopped patrolling. “I—I just thought you’d— “
Stark blinked.
“N-not want me around anymore if I was… you know… normal,” he stuttered, using any last drop of courage he had leftover in his veins from Spider-Man.
Any shred of amusement dropped from Tony’s face the moment his mentee finished the sentence. Crossing any distance they had left between them, Tony reached out with delicate hands to cradle his face, his thumbs brushing the other man’s blushing cheeks. “Sweetheart…”
Hearing that word, Peter idly wondered if his heart was capable of exploding out of his chest like the alien in that one alien movie he couldn’t quite think of the name of at that exact moment because part of his brain was being used to remember to breathe.
“Powers or no powers, you’re still you. That’s the only thing I care about,” Tony admitted.
“Then why even do all of this? The suit…the spider…” Peter pressed in exasperation. “Why go through this much money and time and god only knows what else just to run the risk of me rejecting both options?”
Tony’s welcomed hands fell to his sides. A lump formed in Peter’s throat as he saw a look of hurt in the other man’s eyes.
“Kid… I don’t know what I have to do to make it any clearer that I would do anything for you…anything to make you happy. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen,” Tony said quietly.
“Anything?” he asked cautiously, looking up at the other man with wide eyes, his pulse rapidly speeding up once more.
There was a piece of him that was telling him to stop; he was flying far too close to the sun. Even with an infinite number of universes, there would still never be a chance of this going right.
But as Tony stared back at him and gently brushed one of Peter’s errant curls from his face, he didn’t have it in him to turn back.
“Anyth—”
Not giving him a chance to finish his sentence, Peter boldly learned forward to silence the other man with his lips.
It may have been nothing more than a brief peck, but to Peter it was everything.
The boy pulled back to gauge his companion’s reaction, but had not made it far before Tony pulled him back in by the collar of his shirt before capturing his lips once again.
When Peter eagerly reciprocated, he couldn’t help but notice Tony’s sigh of relief as his shoulders relaxed.
They moved at a languid pace with strategy and finesse rather than blind desperation. As the kiss deepened with tongues tangling, their movements were purposeful, as if they were each appreciating and memorizing each move the other made.
Breaking apart, they both couldn’t contain the smiles that were plastered on their faces.
“Anything,” Tony reiterated.
“Sleep on a semi-regular basis and eat 3 square meals a day?” Peter asked hopefully in some jest.
Tony inhaled a hiss and winced. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”
After a moment of laughter, Tony’s curiosity got the better of him. “So, you think you’ll do it? Hang up the spandex?”
“God no,” Peter beamed, answering without hesitation Tony couldn’t help but look relieved. “I don’t feel like myself when I’m not able to be Spider-Man. I know I can help people in other ways…but knowing what I’m capable of as Spider-Man, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to stop.”
“So then, Mr. Parker… what’ll it be; door number one or door number two?”
Peter’s face wrinkled up. “I think…I might need to sleep on it.”
“Is that an invitation? Gotta say, a bed actually sounds incredible right now…” Tony said causing Peter to raise an eyebrow. “I—love where your mind is going with that—definitely put a pin in that for later—but for once I’m actually advocating for a bed’s primary function.”
“Shit,” Peter exclaimed, once again noticing how dead tired his mentor was as the older man moved shakily. Leaning the man against him for support, he began to lead his partner toward the elevator “Let’s get you to bed, Mr. Stark.”
With a smile, Tony uttered “Thanks, Spider-Man “before going slack in Peter’s arms, leaving him to carry the man up to the penthouse to get some well-deserved rest.