Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And I… am… Iron Man.”

Those were supposed to be the last words of Tony Stark. His final, snappy comeback that would ever be uttered into existence. Five little words that were going to be the greatest middle finger insult to one giant, oversized purple alien named Thanos.

Except when he closed his eyes, he found himself wanting them to reopen.

Things did not become clear immediately; dying - or not dying but being in an incredibly traumatic event - tended to do that to a person and make their brains slower to process things. At first, there was simply nothing more than white light, so intense that any chance of opening said eyes was thwarted. He squeezed them shut again against the throbbing pain they were causing him. 

After a moment to adjust to that, Tony tried again. This time, his eyes didn’t sting so much, and he was finally able to see. He found he was in the middle of a grassy field, and while it was rather warm, he was leaning comfortably in the shade of a tree. The sun was the culprit behind the blinding white light - it was glaring at him like some cop’s interrogation light, and the comparison irked him. He groaned, his body ever so slowly coming back to life as his brain remembered how to Human.

The left glove of his armor was gone. His face mask completely uncovered - no duh, he thought, for how else would the sun be trying to murder his corneas? - and a slight breeze made him aware of the pain on his face. The entire right side of his body and suit were… well, burnt toast felt like an apt description. His body was screaming at him; every fiber, muscle, joint, and tendon ached and throbbed.

It took several seconds for Tony to actually question his condition. The force of the blast from that snap and the resulting radiation should have been enough to kill him. His throat should have been damaged, and there was absolutely no way he should be awake to have this realization. Taking a closer look at his suit, he realized that the damage done was bad, but not astronomically so. Not bad enough that he couldn’t fix it. Yes, he was bleeding and sorer than the time he fell thousands of feet below a wormhole, but… not dead.

Yes, that was the key. Not dead. 

Why was he not dead?

And why was that damned sun so bright anyway? It wasn’t that bad when the fight started.

“FRIDAY? Are you there?”

Yes, Boss. 

A huge sigh of relief washed over him. At least his AI could help.

“What the hell is going on?”

There was a beat. I’m afraid I don’t understand. Can you be more specific?

He held back a growl. “Where am I? Where’s the rest of the team? Why am I alive?!”

His heart would surely crap out on him one of these days. The constant stress and high blood pressure were going to kill him. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t. He did just die, or so he thought, and here he was.

You are currently in the middle of Riverside Park, FRIDAY answered. None of the other Avengers are within the current perimeters of my scanner. As to why you are alive, that I cannot answer, except that you were brought into the world as an egg that was fertilized–

“Alright, alright, shut up, God!” Tony interrupted. “Please do not give me the birds and the bees talk ever again.” No time to ponder how his AI even knew what that was; he certainly hadn’t programmed that into her code. “Riverside Park, you said?” That he could handle. And yes, now that FRIDAY had said that, he could easily see the blue waters of the Hudson to his right. To the left, he caught sight of the freeway and New York’s ever-impressive skyline of buildings. Hadn’t he been at the compound upstate?

“You said none of the others are even close by?” he repeated, hoping for a fraction of a second that he’d somehow misheard her.

Correct. Their biometrics are not in range.

Now that was alarming. FRIDAY’s sensors were the most advanced that existed. “You’re sure it’s not a glitch? Some kind of error? The suit is damaged; something may have popped loose during the fight.”

There was another pause as FRIDAY began to perform a diagnostic check. The entire scan was finished eight seconds later.

I can confirm that the suit is 68.5% damaged, and that my systems are running precisely as they should.

Well, there went that idea of a loose wire. 

Tony rubbed his eyes with his armor-less left hand, mindful of the few burns that were dotted across his face. So he was in the middle of nowhere, injured and with a damaged suit, and no one around to help. 

“What is this, Tennessee all over again?” he mused aloud. “Is the Mandarin about to make some public announcement of his triumphant return? If he is, I suppose I should be grateful it isn’t wintertime and snowing.”

The AI thankfully chose not to respond.

He was alone except, of course, for the very random, ordinary citizens whom he caught glimpsing at him from a distance. He couldn’t fault them for the not-so-subtle whispers and glances towards him. It was a bit surprising, however, that no one tried to run up to him for a picture or autograph.

That sort of thing was becoming all the more common as the Avengers grew in popularity and were gaining the people’s favor. 

“Riverside is… what, two or three miles away from my tower?”

Yes, Stark Tower is approximately 2.56 miles from your current location.

At last, the AI was giving him something useful. “Should be a fair walk. No sweat.” If he could actually stand up, which he hadn’t tried yet. He tensed his muscles as he braced himself to move. A sharp pain in his leg caught him off guard, causing Tony to fall back against the tree.

“Or, you know, maybe I’ll just sit here a little while longer.”

All at once, the other important questions began to flood his brain. Was Thanos really gone? Was anyone else hurt? Did anybody other than himself almost-not-really-die?

Memories of the battle flashed across his mind’s eye. Banner’s snap, the attack on the compound. The subsequent fight with every single ally, friend, acquaintance, and frienemy he’d ever known. Even some that he hadn’t yet gotten the chance to know well enough to categorize. And of course, Pepper… Morgan.

He had to call Pepper.

With a quick command to FRIDAY, he eagerly waited to hear her voice on the other end. He waited and waited for her to pick up. Instead, the only thing he heard was that the number cannot be connected as dialed. The confusion that had slowly been building in his veins turned quickly to fear. There was no reason Pepper should not have picked up the phone. Actually, there was no reason the phone could not be dialed at all. 

Trying not to let the fear get to him, Tony instead dialed happy. But to his dismay, the same thing happened.

Just what the heck was going on?!

——-

Peter inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air that he could get from his current altitude. The top of the Empire State Building gave him one of the best views of the city. It was also one of the only places where his senses were not being bombarded with sounds from backfiring cars, shouts of people yelling for taxis, street vendors trying to make a sale, or the smells that assaulted his nostrils from overfilled dumpsters.

It was, quite simply, one heck of a view.

He loved this city. Maybe he was biased because it was the only place he’d ever known, and nostalgia had a huge part in that. Even so. He was old enough and wise enough to know that other cities in the world were just as large, larger, and just all-around better. But none of those other cities had him.

They didn’t have Spider-Man.

His morning had been more on the slower, lazy side for once. The only reports he’d heard over his police scanner - the one currently in his suit mask - were minor fender-benders, a welfare check, and a noise complaint. No carjackings or armed robberies for once. On one hand, Peter was glad for the reprieve. Such moments were hard to come by, and so he learned to appreciate them. The problem became that every lull was preceded by some epic event of destruction or chaos, and knowing this made these duller moments hard to enjoy.

Even his own spidey senses had no way of knowing just what kind of trouble lay ahead.

“Dispatch to any units in the vicinity of Riverside Park, please respond."

The signal caught Peter’s attention, and he waited to hear more.

“Copy, unit 232.”

“Multiple calls of a 10-10 P in the park. Need an officer for 10-6. Location is on the Northern end.”

Peter frowned, watching his HUD as his programming began to translate the codes in real time. He’d had to memorize the most common ones when he’d first gotten his powers, and the number of mishaps he’d made in the beginning hadn’t exactly endeared him to any officers. He didn’t rely on that software as much anymore - hearing the codes on a daily basis for years helped - but it was nice for the more obscure incidents that didn’t happen as often.

“Unit 232 en route,” came the officer’s voice again. “Traffic is heavy, and I’m 12 minutes out. ETA unknown. Anything else to add?”

“Negative. Will tell you if that changes.”

“10-4.”

Peter knew 10-10 meant possible crime, even before his HUD told him as much. And the P meant a suspicious person. Dispatch wanted an officer nearby to investigate the claims. By the sound of it, the officer wouldn’t be able to reach the park for some time. 

Well, good thing web-swinging wasn’t affected by traffic. This was exactly the kind of thing he loved to do: just be helpful. It didn’t always have to be on a world-class scale. Sometimes the biggest help was in doing the little things.

He stood from his perched position and stretched his arms over his head before diving headfirst off the edge. The rush of the air always made it hard to catch a breath, even with the mask, but the adrenaline rush never got hold.

While swinging, he decided to check in with Yuri and let her know of his plans. A few seconds later, her voice came through loud and clear.

“Hey, Spidey,” she said evenly - her usual greeting. “You’re not calling to tell me of some gigantic emergency right now, are you?”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” Peter smirked. “And no, why do you ask?”

“It’s just rare for you to call me while I’m not at work. You know, some of us do appreciate our paid time off and dislike being interrupted.”

Peter paused on a rooftop to facepalm. “Oh, right, I completely forgot! Sorry, Yuri, I’ll let you go.”

To his surprise, she gave a short laugh. “I'm going back tomorrow. You’re not exactly interrupting much anymore. Now what’s up?”

Peter returned to the air. “I was actually letting you know that I was going to check out the suspicious suspect call that came in a few minutes ago. Riverside Park.”

She hummed. “Yeah, I heard it over the scanner.”

“I thought you weren’t working til tomorrow?” he shot back with humor. He knew Yuri was always listening to her personal scanner even when off duty. “And you say I’m the one working too hard.”

“Shut up,” she replied, and Peter could feel her eyes rolling through the phone. “Still, the park is filled with innocents. I’m glad to hear you’ll be getting eyes on the situation.”

“Yeah, I’m nearly there,” he said as he shot a web out onto a tree limb, swinging himself into the branches. Now that he was in the area, he needed to figure out where to go next.

A quick glance around gave him his answer.

A middle-aged man was limping along the pathway below, half of his face covered in some kind of scarring or burns. A streak of blood trailed down from the man’s right eye to his chin. But all of that was nothing compared to the weird red and gold metal armor plating he seemed to be wearing. It was clearly damaged by… well, Peter had no idea what.

He didn’t even realize he’d gasped aloud until Yuri’s voice cut through his jumbled thoughts. “What is it? What’s happened? Is the guy really that bad?”

“Suspicious doesn’t begin to describe this, Yuri,” Peter began, his spider-sense buzzing just looking at the guy. “I didn’t miss the memo of some new supervillain, did I? Or even a new good guy? Because I feel like that’s what I’m looking at right now.”

“Tell me everything,” she demanded in her captain's voice. “Are there casualties? What kind of damage are we looking at?”

“That’s the weird part,” he admitted, and did his best to relay what he was seeing. Or rather, not seeing. “It’s just one guy. He isn’t attacking anyone. No one’s running for cover, screaming, nothing.” He paused a moment, using his HUD to zoom in closer. “He’s limping, and he’s got this metal armor that looks like it’s been through a jet engine. It’s like he was fighting something, but there haven't been any reports of the sort.”

“Scanner’s been boring today,” Yuri agreed. “What’s your suggestion?”

He shrugged, despite knowing she couldn’t see it. “I’m going to do the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man thing and talk to him.”

“Good luck.”

After all these years, Peter knew Yuri wasn’t as standoffish as she appeared, so he took the otherwise abrupt ending without a second thought.

Peter jumped down from the tree with ease and casually approached the man from behind. The buzz of his spider-sense only increased as he got closer, but still, there wasn’t that feeling of imminent danger. Just that something was wrong. He cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t mind me saying,” Peter started, “but I think you’ve gotten your calendars mixed up; costume parties are usually reserved for the fall when there's turkeys and pumpkin spice everywhere.”

The man jumped and turned around, clearly startled by Peter’s voice. Peter expected to be met with hostility and a weapon. A criminal who was prepared to do whatever it took to stay out of prison. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen. Instead, Peter could see the exact moment the strange man realized Spider-Man was standing in front of him. There was an exhale, a sudden rush of relief that appeared on his face.

“At last, a familiar face,” the guy spoke with a relaxed air. “And what’s with the giant white spider? Did you make that yourself?” He shook his head, as if he realized that he had been rambling. “Sorry, back on topic: Where is everybody?”

Stunned and confused, Peter was forced to re-evaluate his initial plans. Instead of trying to apprehend a hostile, he was now tasked with helping some lunatic get medical attention. How fun. He wasn’t a mental health expert by any means, but he knew enough to know that keeping the person calm was crucial.

“Uh… I did, yes. The spider. It was a suggestion from a friend. But more importantly, are you okay? Because if we’re being honest here, you look like you could use a hospital.”

The man waved him off. “I’m fine, we’ll get to that later. Where is everybody?”

Baby steps, Peter reminded himself. Try to get on the same page. “Um.. are you supposed to be meeting some friends or something?”

The question was supposed to get him talking, and, hopefully give Peter something to work with. The guy just tilted his head, looking annoyed.

“C’mom, kid, now’s not the time to be coy. I just fought a giant purple alien to bring half the population back, including you.”

There was a long pause. “Okaayy… I think you may have hit your head. Badly. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll call EMS to—“

“Peter, this is insane, I’ll just go to my tower and have Dr. Cho look me over, and then—“

“Woah woah woah, stop! Stop a second.” Peter held out both of his hands and, incredulous, he asked, “Did you just call me Peter?” That changed things.

“Yes, I did. I know, it’s not as common as “kid” but that is your name, Peter Parker. Unless that’s changed in the last five years, which I seriously doubt.”

Peter was glad that this mask covered his face, because he was sure his slack jaw was quite the sight. “How do you know that? Do we know each other…?” Peter frantically went through every major event of the last five years, looking for some clue as to who this guy was. He didn’t look familiar at all. Had he come to F.E.A.S.T in the past? The guy didn’t look homeless… and how did he know Peter was Spider-Man?!

While wracking his brain, Peter could see the man’s face begin to change. It was slight, but still noticeable. “Wait.” He held his hand up and pointed. “You’re not Peter Parker.”

“Uh, yes, I am?” Peter admitted, as much as he wanted to deny it. “I think I’d know myself, sir.”

“Cut the crap, Underoos. This isn’t funny anymore.”

Peter frowned and blinked once. “Did you just call me Underwear?”

There was a brief, awkward pause.

“Take off the mask.”

“What?”

“Right now. Take it off. No one else is around. Show me your face.”

There was desperation in the stranger’s eyes when he asked. Its intensity was the one thing that kept Peter from outright denying the request. The guy was confused and just trying to make sense of things. It wasn’t something he could help. Fleetingly, Peter was aware of how often situations like this ended badly with the police. Officers had very little training when it came to mental illness. If Spider-Man hadn’t come, there was a very good chance the man would have been killed.

Looking at it that way, it wasn’t a big deal to lift up his mask and show his face. So he did. It wasn’t like he had anything left to lose; the man knew his name.

The man looked at Peter, then swore under his breath. “You really aren’t him.”

“I am Peter Parker. I’d show you my ID, but carrying that around kind of defeats the whole secret identity thing, don’t you think?”

“Why are you dressed like Spider-Man?”

“Because I am– did you not see me swinging around here just a moment ago? Look,” and Peter shot some webbing at the closest tree - the same one that he’d been hanging out in just moments ago - harmlessly showcasing his abilities. “See? Spider-Man.”

The news began to sink in, and the man began to shake his head and pace back and forth. “This… this isn’t right. You’re not… I must have screwed up and… but I couldn’t have. You were there! I saw you, I mean, I saw him. I saw my Peter. You’re not my Peter Parker.”

“Sir, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you mean I’m not your Peter?”

But instead of answering, Mr. Crazy just asked another question. “FRIDAY, search the web. What’s today’s date?”

“Who is Fri-”

It is currently July 11, 2023

“This makes no sense! This– did I…?”

Boss, the voice– Friday– interrupted, I may have an explanation. Considering the power of the stones and the unique abilities of each, I believe you have landed in a parallel universe.

The man looked as if he were about to have an aneurysm; he was so tense. “Oh…”

“The multiverse is real?” Peter found himself asking, but still not quite believing it. The man couldn’t answer, falling forward to his knees. Peter was quick to follow him.

“Sir, what’s your name?”

Dazed, he still managed to respond, “Tony.”

“Okay. Breathe slower for me, Tony. Can you do that?”

Tony nodded, and Peter began to talk him down. It only took a moment for Tony to get a grip on himself again. Peter assumed that the embarrassment of having a panic attack in public - and in front of a stranger, no less - was enough to snap him out of it.

“What the hell,” Tony shrugged, seemingly talking to himself. “I’ve been to space, fought multiple aliens, met a talking raccoon. Why should this surprise me?”

“Just so we’re clear,” Peter started, “you’re not some new supervillian, right? Because if you are, I’m going to have to inform the police captain, and she’s already kind of prickly on a good day.”

The half-confused, half-annoyed look Peter received was enough of an answer.

Up ahead, Peter could see two officers heading towards him and Tony. They would definitely lock the man up for insanity. “Look,” Peter explained, “obviously, you know me somehow. I’m not sure I’m following, to be honest, but if the police come and hear you, they’ll think you’re insane. More than likely, they’ll take you away and stick you in a psych ward. I don’t want that for you. I’m your best chance at that not happening. So, can I at least take you somewhere where we can talk and go from there? You have lots of questions, and so do I, but there are two officers heading this way, and I’d like to keep this as simple as possible, okay? What do you say?”

Tony didn’t respond verbally, but he did make a facial expression of defeat and agreement.

Figuring that that was as much as he was going to get, Peter nodded and, making sure his mask was still in place, jogged towards the two officers.

“Hey, no worries, boys, I got this one in hand. Just a little misunderstanding."

The pair glanced at one another. “You’re sure?” One of them asked.

“Yeah, of course. The guy’s homeless, but also totally harmless. I’m going to take him over to the F.E.A.S.T shelter nearby. No weapons, no evidence of any foul play.”

The pair seemed reluctant to leave, but the mention of no weapons appeared to calm them down. “And you’ll make sure he gets there and causes no problems?”

“C’mon, have I ever let you guys down like that? Actually, don’t answer that. But seriously, I can handle this guy. Go take it easy, grab a donut! You deserve it!” Peter even went as far as to pat one of the officers on the arm before backing away. “See you around!”

He turned and swung his arm around Tony, gently leading him away. “Just keep walking,” he whispered.

Tony did not look pleased to be led this way, but he didn’t put up any resistance. Peter waited until he could hear the officer reporting an all clear over the radio before relaxing and removing his arm. “Alright, now we’re in the clear.”

“Thank God, because if you were going to keep your arm around me like that, I was going to have to file a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

Peter snorted. “Don’t take the friendly in Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man that far.”

Chapter Text

Tony was not a man to panic. At least not in the normal sense, and not counting New York and the wormhole. Was he abrupt and abrasive? Prone to anxiety attacks? Someone who acted first without asking? Yes to all.

But even he was having a hard time comprehending the revelation that he had been dropped into a whole different world. And this was coming from the same guy who made time travel possible.

Tony also couldn’t stop staring at Peter in the brief time his mask had been off. The kid he’d taken under his tutelage, who had simultaneously infuriated and impressed him… wasn’t exactly a kid anymore. This Peter was clearly older and more confident in himself. If Tony had to venture a guess, he would say Peter was in his mid-20s, either still in college or recently graduated from it. His cheekbones were more defined, and he had that chiseled jawline that girls loved (Tony remembered being young and good-looking; a perfect jawline was a good start to getting a girl’s attention).

Peter looked sincere, still kind and likable, but not overly youthful. Those Bambi eyes that had so often conned Tony into letting him get away with something weren’t so wide anymore, but were still that same shade of brown Tony remembered.

Maybe, Tony thought suddenly, this is what would have become of his Peter if it weren’t for the Snap. The kid would be five years older, anyway. Tony remembered seeing Peter during that final battle, as he rambled on about how Doctor Strange had come to get him, never once pausing to breathe. But then, after he’d snapped… nothing. He was just suddenly here.

Tony tried to shake himself of that train of thought. He needed to focus if he wanted to get back home.

This Peter was still smart, though, as was evident by his impressive suit. Tony hadn’t said as much yet, but even he could tell that the suit was technologically advanced and full to the brim with features. Maybe less than what Tony himself would’ve put in, but still.

When Tony thought he could get away with it, he commanded FRIDAY to scan and analyze Peter’s suit and tech. A few seconds later, and she had helpfully displayed the results.

Analyzing now… the suit is made of carbon fiber weave and graphene for the red and blue. The spider emblem is composed of pure carbon fiber. I’m also picking up traces of silk. It appears he has an AR heads-up display, which shows his geographical location, web, fluid levels, health, and other relevant data.

He hummed with satisfaction. So Peter was still a science nerd at least, and knew his way around technology. Tony wished the suit had more extra features, like a parachute. Maybe he could make a few suggestions while he was here. Yeah, that’d be nice.

Peter led them both towards the park entrance, and the sounds of the city assaulted Tony’s ears. Honking cars, shouts, general chattering of people talking on phones as they walked, and even the odd hustler trying to make a few bucks with rigged games.

“Let’s head up to this roof a couple blocks down,” Peter suggested. “It’s private, so we can talk.”

Tony opened his mouth, “If you think I’m going to just let you manhandle—“

Peter lifted him before he could finish, and Tony found himself swinging through the air until Peter landed them gracefully on our rooftop moments later. It was just as well that Tony was used to flying around in his Iron Man suit, or he was sure he would have hurled all over the place. Stupid teenagers.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ve found it’s best to just get the whole swinging thing over with, especially when you’re not used to it.”

“I’ll have you know, smarty-pants, that I am not one to get motion sick.”

Peter removed his mask, and the smug little smile on his face was proof enough that even in other universes, he was a little shit. While annoyed, Tony was glad that some things hadn’t changed. Peter gestured with his head, “Would that have something to do with this weird metal suit you’ve got?”

Tony harumphed. “It would indeed, if it wasn’t so damaged.”

Peter nodded. “Alright, well, enough small talk, because I have so many questions right now. You know me, or claim to, anyway, and you say you’re from another universe, is that right?” When Tony just nodded instead of simply answering, Peter went on, “Alright, Tony, then prove it. Prove to me somehow that what you’re telling me is true.”

Tony sighed, somehow knowing that the conversation would go like this. It wasn’t like he blamed the kid for not believing him. Heck, he hardly believed himself; the least he could do was offer answers for him. Just how he would do that, though, well, that was another problem. Different universes meant that the details needed to convince Peter that he knew him would be different. Well, he’d start small and go from there.

“Your name is Peter Benjamin Parker,” he began. “Your parents died when you were young, and you were raised by your aunt and uncle.”

Tony could see the objection forming on Peter’s face; he could practically hear him uttering the words, “Anyone could look up that information.” So Tony went on.

“You got your powers when you were bitten by a radioactive spider, but you didn’t fully embrace them until your uncle‘s death. You felt responsible; you could’ve stopped what happened to him, but you didn’t, and you blame yourself.”

Peter’s smugness was slowly falling away from his face the longer Tony spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You have this sixth sense that warns you of danger. I think you described it to me once like a tingle, and it tells you right before something is about to happen. You quip jokes when you’re anxious, especially during fights. You are one of the smartest kids I’ve ever met, and someday the world is going to know you for more than just Spider-Man.” Tony waited, feeling anxious for some kind of response. “Well?”

“Holy crap, you’re from an alternate universe.”

“Yup.”

“So multidimensional travel is real.”

“Pretty much,” Tony agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to add it to my growing list of impending world disasters. While we’re talking, what else is no longer theoretical? Please tell me astrology is still garbage, because if Mercury being in retrograde actually affects my tech, I’m going to be very upset.”

Peter laughed, but his mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide with shock. “N-no, astrology is still crap… but seriously, you find out that you just traveled dimensions and the first thing you ask is about astrology?”

Tony shrugged. “I won’t apologize for being me, kid.”

“That’s another thing,” Peter held up a finger. “I'm not a kid.”

“As someone older than you, you will always be a kid to me, so shut up.”

Peter shook his head.  “How exactly do we know each other? Are you another superhero?”

Tony gave him a blank stare. “I’m Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man.” He paused for a beat, hoping the name would trigger some kind of response. But there was nothing. Not even a twitch. Tony had just saved half the universe for cryin’ out loud! He… he couldn’t just be a nobody.

“You really haven’t heard of me?”

Peter frowned, and Tony realized he was examining his suit. “Unless the density of iron has changed, that suit is clearly too lightweight to be made of pure iron. I’m guessing some kind of alloy by the looks of it?”

A sense of pride inexplicably washed over Tony, temporarily drowning out his own existential crisis. God, this kid was smart. He wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that he missed this. “Gold-titanium,” Tony answered with a smirk. “Well, the original was iron, though the circumstances surrounding that suit are not something I would like to discuss right now. But yes, I am a superhero.”

“And that’s how I know you?”

“More or less yes, I kind of took you in as an apprentice. Intern? Prodigy?” He shrugged. “Semantics.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re here. How did you even get here?”

“That’s a great question, and one that I’m still trying to figure out.”

“So you don’t know?”

“No, no I don’t.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

Tony frowned. “You know, you were never this much of a smartass before. I don’t like it.”

“Well, if I’m your apprentice/trainee/intern, I should think it’s all your fault for teaching me. Because you seem to be quite snarky yourself.”

Tony shook his head. “Look, as great as this conversation has been, I need to go and meet myself, quite literally.”

It may not have been a perfect plan, but it was the only plan he had. He would go out into the world towards his tower, locate this world’s Tony, and go from there. Two Tony Starks could surely figure out this multiverse thing. And he’d figured out time travel alone! The possibilities to be had with a clone of himself? Infinite.

“Uhm,” Peter began to follow as Tony walked away. “First of all, sir, you’re still injured. You really should get those wounds looked at. Second, did you really just say that you’re going to go find this world’s version of you? Doesn’t that go against the laws of time travel or something?”

Tony turned around, barely holding back an eye roll. He was not about to get into a discussion about time laws right now. “I told you, my injuries are fine.” They were painful enough to bother him, but no way was he admitting that. “Just let me go and find my tower and I’ll be a happy camper.”

As Tony went to step away, Peter suddenly held out his arms to stop him. “Whoa, wait, hold up!” Peter exclaimed. “Did you say your tower? As in Stark tower?”

This time, Tony did roll his eyes. “You may be older, Peter, but you’re still just as clueless. Yes, my tower.”

“But I thought Howard was the head of Stark Industries?"

The world came to a standstill. Tony felt shaky. There was so much to unpack in that single sentence. Maybe he’d misheard the kid. “What did you just say?”

“Howard Stark is the CEO of Stark Industries. Are you like… related to him somehow? Because the last I heard, there was only one Stark.”

Tony’s mind didn’t just halt; it jammed, derailing like a train crashing into a skyscraper. None of the sounds of the city - the horns, alarms, the shouts and sirens - registered in his ears. The only thing at the forefront of his mind was the notion that Howard— his father, that person who had been responsible for at least 85% of Tony’s childhood trauma— was still alive. The one in charge of controlling a multi-billion-dollar company, who hadn’t been brutally killed in a staged car accident in the 90s.

The very idea of this was such a catastrophic and cruel twist of fate that Tony’s mind, usually so adept at calculations and engineering, couldn’t accept it. Because in those few simple words that Peter had spoken, Tony was being battered with onslaughts of memories of his father’s disapproval.

Right then, in that moment, Tony was no longer a grown man with a wife and daughter. He wasn’t a man who had saved the universe on several occasions or had just given up his own life to do so. He was just a neglected little boy with daddy issues that no suit of armor could protect him from. Was this what karma was? Was this his punishment for years of being a selfish and arrogant bastard? Why else would the universe see fit to torture him like this?

He turned fully to face Peter again, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, and demanded. “Is this some kind of joke, Peter?”

“What would I gain by joking? I don’t know you,” Peter reminded. “I’m just as lost here as you are.”

All at once, Tony’s heart skipped a few beats. It took everything Tony had not to fall to his knees as the words finally, slowly, began to settle into his mind. Howard Stark… was alive. Tony Stark did not exist.

He forced himself to focus, to steady the tremor that wanted to sneak into his voice. His mind ran through the logic: if Howard was alive, the entire trajectory of Stark Industries would be different. The company, the technology, the legacy—his legacy—none of it would be his. All those years spent crawling out of his father’s shadow, only to find that in some realities the shadow was still there, and thicker than ever... It was infuriating. It was terrifying. It was just plain wrong.

“Did… Howard didn’t have a child?” Tony found himself asking.

A pause, and Tony could see the exact moment that Peter realized why he was freaking out. “N-no, sir. He didn’t. There was… It’s a whole thing, but… he’s your father, isn’t he?”

“FRIDAY!” Tony shouted. “Scan all records you have access to here. Search for me.”

FRIDAY was diligent in her search, and Tony was holding his breath, waiting for something. Anything. There had to be some kind of mistake. There just had to be. He couldn’t not exist. It was bad enough he’d been sent here in the first place, but to not have ever existed? Had his crimes during his youth and weapon-producing days been so bad as to warrant this?

Maybe he really had died in the battle of Thanos after all.

Search completed. Peter is correct, boss. This world’s Howard Stark does not have a son, and there are no other Tony Starks who are a match. I’m sorry.

He needed to sit down. He needed to sit now and think. Tony needed a new plan. A new… anything. He’d been wrong before; this was much worse than Tennessee. He had no records, which meant no fortune. No lab. No company. No…

No Pepper.

No Morgan.

Panic surged through him like a bolt of lightning. His breathing began to quicken, and his heart began to pound. The last time he’d had a panic attack this bad, Pepper had force-fed him some horrible smoothie and made him breathe into a brown paper bag until he could recite Pi to the 50th place. But now there was no Pepper. Not even a paper bag. Just a broken suit with limited power remaining, and a Spider-Man who couldn’t seem to do anything but ask a thousand and one questions.

The world around him became blurry, and he was vaguely aware of Peter’s mouth moving— but no sound was heard— before things suddenly went black.