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Peter Parker stood frozen on the doorstep of Tony Stark's lakeside home in the year 2023.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. The sheer amount of illegal and dangerous actions he’d taken in order to arrive at this spot was incomprehensible. If someone had told Peter two years ago that he’d be in this position with the desperation to go to such lengths he wouldn’t have believed them. But he wasn’t the same person he’d been two years ago.
Peter’s hands shook at his sides, and he slowly reached up to press a button and dismantle the time travel suit he’d found. Well. More like stolen.
God– Scott Lang was going to murder him if he found out. Especially since he had no clue who Peter was. Finding some strange young man in the high security avengers compound lab using illegal time travel equipment that no one but an avenger should have any knowledge of existing—
But that was an issue for later. And if Peter was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he cared as much as he should. Afterall, what was there to return to, really? The year since May died had been the hardest time of his life. Just waking up in the morning and forcing himself to eat was its own battle, let alone the struggle he’d faced with a world he didn’t exist in. He hadn’t been able to consistently keep up his life as Spider-Man, which was the only purpose left driving him forwards.
That was until he was struck with an idea. A horrible, stupid, reckless idea. It had sunk its claws into him as soon as the semblance of a plan formed. He thought of it every waking hour, and remnants of it plagued his nightmares. It was like a drug— an addictive train of thought he clung to like a lifeline. Suddenly it didn’t seem so hard to exist, not when in the back of his mind he could sink into the bliss of what could have been. No matter how many times he tried to shrug off the whispering words of temptation, Peter couldn’t free himself from the iron grip it had taken on his life.
He wanted to go back.
Not forever, he didn’t need that. Just for a day— or an hour or even ten minutes. Just to see someone one more time, to talk to one soul who remembered him. He’d spent longer than he’d like to admit trying to decide when and who he’d go to. The list of those he’d lost was endless at this point, and Peter knew he would really only have one chance.
However, there was one person who his mind hadn’t been able to shake. Someone who had understood him on a level that few others had. He knew Peter’s secrets and his flaws, some of his best and worst moments and in those achingly lonely months, the thought of seeing his mentor gave him a new burst of temporary purpose.
If Tony had been alive none of this would have happened. It was a truth that Peter had clung to for the last few years, and he believed it whole heartedly. After all, if Tony was alive, Peter never would’ve given the glasses to Beck, and Beck never would’ve had Peter on his radar in the first place. And if Peter hadn’t failed Tony in the mess with Beck, then his identity wouldn’t have been revealed. And if his identity had never been revealed, then May would still be alive.
Peter wasn’t stupid— he knew he couldn’t change anything by going back in time. If he could, there were a thousand other things he would’ve considered doing. But changing the past doesn’t change your future, it only creates a new reality for someone else.
He couldn’t change anything.
So maybe he was being selfish by going back. Maybe all he wanted was to hear his mentor’s voice one more time— or anyone’s voice— anyone who would know him.
And if he was immediately imprisoned or killed on return?
That would be okay. He had reached his limit anyway, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he done enough? Couldn’t he be done?
How many more people had to die— how many more did he have to lose for him to be finished?
With great power comes great responsibility.
That’s what May told him. What Uncle Ben said to the other Peters.
Peter didn’t feel very powerful anymore. He felt weak. He felt broken.
If he wasn’t powerful, did that mean he was free from the curse? He’d given everything he had until there was nothing left— surely that meant he’d done it. Surely now he could join May and tell her he’d tried, he’d done everything she asked. Would she welcome him with open arms then? Would her face be filled with disappointment or would she brush back his hair and whisper, “You did it, Peter. You can rest now.”
Maybe there would be nothing.
Peter remembered very little from when he’d died the first time other than excruciating pain as his body flaked into dust. The world had gone dark and then he’d blinked and he was back, phantom pains still crawling over his body. There had been no afterlife, despite the fact he apparently had been gone for five years.
He was desensitized to the realization that he didn’t care either way.
All he cared about now was this last bit of comfort he was allowing himself in a world that did nothing but take.
Peter swallowed down his nerves as he approached the front door of Tony Stark’s lake-side cottage. He’d only come here a few times after Thanos was defeated. Once for the funeral, once because Pepper asked, and one more time to retrieve some things that Tony had left for him. That was all he could manage. It was too painful to walk the halls of this place that his mentor had called home.
It was late at night, and Peter bit his lip as he raised a hand to knock. He hadn’t wanted to come when the others were awake, hoping to catch the one person he knew wouldn’t be sleeping. If his gut was correct, Tony would be doing anything but sleeping right now. Because tonight was the night before the Avengers traveled back in time to save the world.
“Hello, Peter Parker,” FRIDAY’s voice startled him so hard that he nearly fell off the front step. His breath caught in his chest at the sound of her voice, the way it said his name and how it knew him. It knew who he was without him having to introduce himself.
“Friday?” Peter asked slowly. “Is that you? You— you know who I am?” After the memory spell went into effect, his information had been wiped from every database in the world, including Stark AI. He still remembered his horror when Karen refused to answer to him.
“Of course I know you, Peter Parker,” she replied easily. “And yes, this is FRIDAY, the AI programmed by Tony Stark. Shall I inform him of your arrival?”
Peter his throat closed up as his lips quivered. He couldn’t answer, only managing a short nod. There was no going back now.
“Very well, he shall be here in a moment.”
Peter waited in silence, his heart pounding as he stood in the darkness. Dim porch light was the only thing brightening his surroundings since this house was in the middle of nowhere. It was nothing like the city, and a part of him longed to live somewhere like this. Somewhere secluded with no responsibility to save the world and his only worries would be whether he’d be forced by his parents to take out the trash that day. Life hadn’t been that simple since before the spider bite.
Abruptly, a loud crashing noise came from the inside hallway along with a muttered “shit!” before the front door was slammed open. Peter froze, every muscle in his body seizing up as he stared at the man in front of him. He looked… older than in his memories. Which made sense, since he’d barely seen him after getting resurrected. Five years had passed since the Titan, and it showed. It didn’t help that the color had drained from his face as he stared dumbfounded at Peter on his front lawn.
For a horrible sickening moment, Peter let himself imagine that Tony had still forgotten him. That somehow the wretched spell followed him wherever he went and he’d have to see his mentor’s face twist in confusion and break Peter’s world all over again. He wasn’t sure if he would survive that.
Then he spoke.
“Peter?” Tony called out, his voice hoarse.
It was no use— tears began to stream down his face in an instant at the words. “Mr— Mr. Stark,” He choked out, stumbling into the first human being to recognize him in over a year.
Someone knew him, actually knew him. And not just anyone, Tony Stark still knew who he was. And he was alive.
“Oh my god Pete—” Tony met him halfway, crushing him in a hug that seemed to warm Peter from the inside out. He could feel Tony shaking as well, and Peter sobbed into his shoulder, unable to say anything else. There was only so much he could take and in the arms of someone who loved him, he could finally let it out. The strong grip of the older man kept him steady, and he let himself go limp for a few seconds, barely breathing. He could hear Tony’s heartbeat— he could hear it.
“Hey kid— let’s— let's get inside okay?” Tony’s voice broke a little bit, and it was only then that Peter realized he must have been crying as well.
“Okay,” Peter managed, forcing himself to pull away so he could follow Tony inside. The loss of warmth was immediate and he tried not to vocalize his distress. However, it eased as he stepped into the house, which was heated in a way he’d never been able to afford in his apartment.
Tony’s expression was one of disbelief and he seemed to be taking all of Peter in, shaking his head as if he wasn’t sure this was real. “God, Pete,” he muttered, blinking a few times. “Did I stay up too late these last few nights or are you— are you actually—”
“It’s me,” he replied quickly, taking a sharp breath. “I— I’m from the future.” No use lying. He didn’t care about breaking some rules of time travel, not when its inventor was Tony Stark.
Tony froze and blinked a few times. “I— well fuck,” he responded uncertainly, a dry laugh escaping him. “That’s something alright. I take it that what I’m currently working on in my lab is a success then?”
“To an extent, yeah,” Peter nodded, still struggling to believe he was really here. He glanced around at the space in silent awe. It felt so much more alive than when he’d been here after Tony’s death. The air itself felt lighter, as he watched Tony take a seat at a small breakfast nook table.
Tony seemed at a loss for words, which was not something Peter was used to seeing. “Why uh— why are you here, kid?” he asked at last. There was a sense of nervousness about him as he patted the bench across from him for Peter to sit on. “This isn’t like the Christmas Carol right? Not about to warn me of some awful fate that happens if we go through with our plan tomorrow? I didn’t take you for the ghost type.”
Peter sensed the joke, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh. Instead he managed a smile that came across more like a grimace as he sat down, his leg bouncing immediately.
“Hey– uh… I wasn’t on the nose was I? Kinda hoping to be wrong on that one, Pete.”
“No I— I’m not here because of that," Peter replied after a heartbeat, his hands kneading into the fabric of his t-shirt beneath the table. He had no idea what to say. Every possible option he’d imagined didn’t seem right now that he was actually here.
Tony was frowning, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered over Peter. “How old are you, kid?” he asked.
Peter blinked. “Um— nineteen,” he answered. “By a month or so.”
“Damn,” Tony shook his head, a smile slipping onto his face. “So we really do it then? We bring everyone back? You got to grow up?”
Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “I probably fucked up something by confirming that,” he laughed awkwardly.
Tony seemed startled for a moment before he moved on, shrugging. “Eh, just eases some of my anxiety. Lord knows I needed it. And careful you don’t let Cap hear your colorful language,” he winked.
“Bad habit,” Peter joked, although his chest felt tighter by the minute.
“So— what college did you end up at? Double major? Phd plans? Hit me with it kiddo, I need the details,” Tony grinned. His voice was calm, but Peter could read him well enough to know that underneath it all was a distinct sense of unease.
Peter tried to keep himself from blanching at the questions, but he had a feeling he hadn’t hidden his panic well enough. “Um— bio engineering,” Peter stuttered, as flashes of his dusty GED text books passed through his mind.
Tony raised an eyebrow as he nodded slowly. “You don’t sound too sure about that. Having a hard time choosing or something?”
“No I— I want to do bio engineering,” he blurted. That wasn’t a lie right? He did want to do bio engineering. He was just… several hundred steps away from that goal.
“Well that’s a good major,” Tony said at last, but Peter could hear the worry bleeding into his tone.
He doesn’t believe me.
It was a stupid lie anyway— Peter had planned to tell Tony the truth. That was the whole point in coming here, to ask for guidance or something. However, telling an imaginary version of his mentor all his problems and the real life version were two very different conversations.
“Is uh— shoot what’s his name— Is Ned at your college too?”
This time Peter went completely rigid and there was nothing he could do to hide it. A faint ringing pulsed from somewhere, muffling the sounds of the forest outside the cottage.
“Pete?” Tony asked, concern written even clearer on his face. “Are you—”
“He’s not,” Peter cut him off, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Not what?”
“Not at my school. Ned’s not. He— I haven’t seen him since…” Peter trailed off, trying to remember how long it had been since he’d seen Ned. His best friend had left for MIT months ago, along with MJ. Neither of them had been in New York in a long time, that was for sure. Peter had kept up with them through social media for a little while, but gave up at some point, like he had with many other things.
Just more people he’d lost. More people that were gone from his life forever.
Suddenly Peter felt a hand grabbing his, and his fingers were being pressed against the pulse of a wrist. He blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what was happening as his spider senses focused in on the heartbeat. It was strange and erratic and unlike any others and— oh.
“You with me kid?” Tony asked gently. He’d scooted his chair closer to Peter and was currently pressing Peter’s hand against his wrist. Before Thanos, back when he was younger, it was a lot less common for Peter to get panic attacks, but the odd one still caught him by surprise. This system of Peter feeling Tony’s heart beat was one they’d come up with back then.
“Not really a kid anymore,” Peter croaked, clearing his throat and coughing slightly.
Tony scoffed. “You’ll always be my kid.”
Peter froze, and he felt Tony stiffen beside him, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Slowly he dragged his gaze away from Tony’s wrist and up to his face, unable to hide his surprised expression. They hadn’t exactly labeled their dynamic beyond mentor and protege, and due to Tony’s rather closed off personality, it’d never turned into anything else. Peter would never have admitted it, but as a teenager with a lack of role models in his life, he knew that Tony had fallen into something of a father figure to him. He would’ve rather died than admit that to his face though, and yet— all this time had Tony actually felt the same?
“What?” Peter managed, his eyes wide.
For a heartbeat Tony looked embarrassed and Peter thought he would take the comment back, but then he took a breath, raking a hand through his graying hair. “God— has your me really not told you yet? That’s awkward. I— fuck it, yeah Pete, you’re my kid. Took you— took you dying in my arms for me to understand it but I do now. You were as much my family as Pepper was and god I really botched it with you. This—” he gestured to the time travel suit Peter was wearing. “It was for you. I’m not a hero like you or Cap, I’m selfish. I wasn’t going to risk my life and my family for this time travel bullshit but then I— I saw your picture. I saw the two of us and I knew that I had to get you back. No matter what the cost was, because my family wasn’t really complete, not without you.”
“You— made what?” Peter’s heart pounded as he stared at Tony, his mouth hanging open. His brain could barely function as he tried to process the words being spoken to him. Tony had really felt this way all this time? And Peter had never gotten to find out because— because—
“Yeah, I did,” Tony repeated, answering his unfinished question. He paused for a moment then, a frown deepening. “Kid I can’t for the life of me figure out why I wouldn’t have told…” he trailed off slowly, his expression sharpening as he took in Peter’s appearance for another time.
Oh. He’s realizing.
“Pete…” Tony whispered, his face dropping. “Did… do I—”
Peter swallowed down as sob as he sat there, still clutching Tony’s wrist while the heartbeat increased. “Don’t make me say it,” he choked out, holding back another breakdown with every ounce of his strength.
“Oh kid,” Tony’s voice cracked as he grabbed Peter’s shoulders and tugged him into a tight embrace. His hand came up behind Peter’s hair, gently pulling his head onto Tony’s chest.
Peter’s body shook as the tears came again, quickly soaking Tony’s shirt. His breath hitched as he tried to calm himself down, but it was all too much. The warm house, the conversation, the hug, the confession about the time travel—
“It’s okay,” Tony repeated quietly, holding onto Peter with an iron grip. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“I’m not,” Peter gasped out abruptly, his words muffled against the older man’s shirt. “It’s all gone to shit, everything’s gone to shit, Dad,” he choked out. The name slipped from him without meaning to, but he barreled on. “First it was you, and then it was Beck and they all called me a murderer and then I tried to fix it and I lost Ned and MJ and everyone forgot and— and—” Peter sucked in a sharp breath, unable to focus on anything. “And May,” he sobbed, an ugly sound tearing from his chest. “I couldn’t save her, I— I just watched as he— and then I almost killed him and fuck, I would’ve. I should’ve, I wish I had, I wish they hadn’t stopped me ‘cause she’s— she’s—” Peter couldn’t finish the sentence as another gut wrenching cry spilled from him. His entire body was shaking, the only thing grounding him to the earth was the warmth of Tony’s strong embrace.
“Jesus,” Tony muttered after a few moments, squeezing him tighter for a second, as if Peter might fade into nothingness. “You’ve been through a lot, huh?”
“Y—yeah,” Peter sniffed, burying his face into Tony’s shoulder again. He wanted to stay there forever.
There was a pause.
“Do you— do you have anyone back there? Are you living with anyone?”
Peter stiffened, his breath catching. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would shut out the reality waiting for him back home. Could he even call it home? Home was where the heart is, supposedly, and if that were true, Peter’s home was six feet under.
“Pete?” Tony prodded gently.
He could lie. For Tony’s sake.
And yet for the first time in a year he was finally being seen by someone. He didn’t have it in him to hide anymore. Not now.
“No,” Peter whispered, his voice like gravel. “There’s no one left. The— the spell I… I had to go to Dr. Strange. Had to make them all forget me to— to save them. There’s no one.”
“A spell? What?” disbelief poured from Tony’s voice, and Peter didn’t blame him. It sounded insane to him as well, even a year later.
With half his face still pressed against Tony’s chest, he began his story. “I— I can’t tell it all, it's too much but I… I’ll try to make it make sense,” he muttered. “Basically uh, I got accused of killing this guy and he revealed my identity to the public. It— it sort of ruined my life and my friends and May and Happy so I went to Dr. Strange for help. He suggested making everyone forget Peter Parker is Spider-Man so we did that but I sort of fucked up the spell and then a bunch of villains from different universes came to kill me and I was stupid and tried to help them instead of sending them back right away and—” Peter swallowed back another sob. “May she— she wanted to help them too and she— I let her— I—”
“Hey, hey,” Tony cut in tentatively, feeling Peter’s spiral. “It wasn’t your fault, kid. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”
The words should have felt healing, like some sort of relief after months of bitter grief. They should’ve softened the jagged edges and calmed his raging loss.
But they didn’t. They didn’t change anything.
“You weren’t there,” Peter hissed, anger clawing at his lungs like a beast. “You— you don’t know he— he went after her because of me. He was trying to hurt me and— and she was only there because of me. He used her to get at me and— fuck I— I wish he’d just killed me instead,” he bit out, fresh tears stinging his eyes. Tony’s arms tightened around him again, and Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never said a word of this to anyone. There had been no one to tell.
“She never would have wanted it to be you,” Tony said after a few moments of silence. “You know that right? You were her kid, she would have wanted it to be her every time.”
“I know!” Peter snapped, gritting his teeth. “But I— she left me and I— I miss her,” he broke off, the anger sapping from his bones as another sob ripped free from his chest. “It's so lonely, Mr. Stark,” he whispered. “I— I had to stop the villains from coming through the portals and they were there because of me and— and I asked Dr. Strange if they would go away if he changed the spell so everyone forgot who Peter Parker was and it— it worked.”
“He let you do that?” Tony exclaimed, his body tensing with anger.
“He had to!” Peter finally pulled away, wiping the still dripping tears from his cheeks. “Our world would’ve collapsed and been ripped apart if he didn’t. I had to.”
Tony’s face was twisted in a look of fury, and it was only then that Peter noticed the wet sheen under his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that,” Tony said firmly, his hands shaking on his lap. “That’s— that’s— god you’re a kid, Pete! You should be going to stupid college parties and going on dates not— not this.”
Peter swallowed hard. “With great power comes great responsibility,” he quoted wryly.
“I’m sorry?”
“May told me that,” he clarified. “Before— right before she— died.” He took a steadying breath. “For the last five years ever since I got my powers, I’ve lived by that motto. I didn’t have the words to it until then, but those words are Spider-Man. If I have the power to step in, to change something, to save someone— no matter what the cost on my end, no matter what, I do it. It’s my responsibility.”
“Fuck Pete I— I don’t think she meant that,” Tony stared at him, wide-eyed. “No one can keep that up, no matter what sort of super abilities they have. That’s just an impossible standard. You can’t live like that forever.”
“I… I know,” Peter murmured, glancing away at the window. It was impossible to see outside for most people, but with his enhanced vision he was able to catch the dark leaves swaying in the night wind.
Tony blinked at him in confusion. “You know? What was the speech for then?”
“I mean I— I know it's not sustainable,” Peter explained. “I’m… I’m sort of done.”
“Being Spider-Man?”
“Being… anything,” he shrugged. “Peter Parker died a year ago, apart from the people who knew him as a shipment deliverer on the docks or a server at Majiano’s Pizza Parlor. Spider-Man hasn’t been seen in over two months now.”
Slow realization creeped over Tony’s face as his eyes narrowed suddenly. “Kid— what… how did you get access to my tech if no one knew who you were?”
Peter looked down at the backs of his hands. There were still some scrapes from his desperate battle getting into the facility.
Tony followed his gaze, snatching up one of Peter’s hands, squinting at his busted knuckles like they’d personally offended him. “You broke in,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
Peter said nothing, unsure what was wanted of him.
“Why are you here, Peter?” Tony asked harshly, his grip on Peter’s hand tightening. “What is this actually about?”
He flinched slightly, inching backwards. “I— what?”
“What’s your big plan?” Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Break into the compound, illegally use their time travel tech and then what— pop back like nothing's wrong? You realize they have no clue who you are, right? They could kill you for this, or at the least imprison you.”
“I know,” Peter replied, his voice shaking slightly.
“Then what the hell was so important about you coming here that you’d risk throwing your life away?” Tony was nearly yelling, his eyes flashing.
“I don’t—”
“Did you really think this through at all? Did you? Because I need to hear exactly how this helps you in any way. I know the Avengers security okay? They aren’t going to take this lightly!”
“Mr. Stark—”
“So what was the big idea coming here, huh? Because I know for a fact that—”
“I WAS DONE OKAY?” Peter shouted at last, cutting Tony off mid rant. “I already told you— I was done! I didn’t care if they found me. I— I don’t have anything left,” his voice cracked. “There’s no one who gives a fuck if I live or die back there. I just… for one more time… I just wanted to see someone who knew me. Peter Parker. Someone who cared.”
Tony stared in silence, his entire body rigid. The expression in his eyes wasn’t one that Peter had ever seen before, and Peter stared back, wishing he’d look away. He felt as if he were being ripped open and dissected from every angle. Distantly, he wished he could shove every word he’d just yelled back into his brain and keep it there forever.
“Do you—” Tony’s voice was husky in a way Peter had never heard. “Do you actually want that?”
“What?” Peter barely heard himself say it.
“Do you want them to capture you and— kill you?” Tony looked slightly sick as he said the words.
Peter didn’t understand what Tony was getting at. “I— I don’t know,” he replied shakily. “I’m not going back to my apartment, I know that. I just… I’m just tired,” he admitted, his eyes welling up. Tony didn’t say anything so Peter took that as permission to continue. “I’m tired of living paycheck to paycheck, I’m tired of working so many jobs that I barely sleep, I’m tired of not having enough money to run the stupid heater, tired of bleeding out in my bedroom, tired of patching up my goddamn suit, tired of being alone,” his voice cracked on the last word. He felt a bit of shame for dumping all this on Tony, but it wasn’t as if they would see each other after this. “I’m tired,” he finished with a small shrug, leaning back against the chair. Exhaustion pulled at his bones, and a weariness that had clung to him for too many years threatened to drown him for the hundredth time. He was tired of swimming. Tired of kicking back to the surface. At least if he were thrown in prison they’d give him one meal a day. And if he was dead he didn’t have to eat at all.
Tony hadn’t said anything for the last minute, and Peter finally took a chance and glanced at him.
The look on his face was one Peter recognized, and was the last thing he’d expected to see on the man’s face. It was the same expression he wore when he was going to do something especially stupid.
Peter’s spider sense went off a few seconds before it happened, but Peter was so confused at what it could possibly be warning him about that he didn’t bother moving. And then Tony was lunging forward, his hand grasping something on the belt of Peter’s suit as he came away with a harsh ripping sound.
“What the—” Peter stared at Tony in utter confusion as the older man stepped back and practically darted into the kitchen, putting the counter between them. Peter looked down at his belt, confused at what had even been removed. Then he saw it.
The Pym particles.
“Give me one good reason why you should go back there,” Tony demanded, the vials clenched tightly in his grip.
Peter could barely keep up with what was happening as he stumbled to his feet. “What are you— what the hell are you talking about?” He felt as if his eyes were about to pop out of his skull as he watched his mentor incredulously.
“You heard me,” Tony looked more determined than Peter had ever seen him. “Do you really expect me to let you go back just to get thrown in prison or— or killed? Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Crazy?” Peter yelled. His thoughts were racing faster than he could keep up with. “You— you want me to stay here? Do you know how insane that is? How many problems that could cause?”
“I think it’d be more insane of me to send a kid back to die because no one has any clue who he is because the local wizard botched his spell so bad that the world nearly ended!” Tony shouted.
Peter wanted to pull all of his hair out. “I can’t stay! I don’t belong here!”
“And you belong there?” Tony had the decency to look guilty when Peter flinched at his words. “Okay that was harsh but do you hear what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, and it’s batshit crazy,” Peter snapped. “The last time I fucked with the multiverse it didn’t go too well.”
“Oh come on, this is different,” Tony scoffed. “No magic whatsoever, all science! Besides, you really mean to tell me in the last what— three years? No one’s gone back in time and stayed longer than planned?”
Peter stiffened, his eyes flicking to the side as he recalled Steve Rogers extended stay in the past.
“HA, I was right!” Tony grinned. “Didn’t end the world, did it?”
“No but— I— there’s so much that could go wrong! I have a whole other version of myself who’s been snapped and he’s gonna come back and I’d be here and that’s all kinds of messed up I—”
“Why?” Tony tilted his head.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong with having two of you? Between S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra I can guarantee someone out there has done some professional cloning. What’s the difference?”
“I— I don’t—”
“Listen,” Tony’s voice softened. “I’m not going to force you to stay, no matter how much I very badly want to. I just— I care about you okay? It kills me to know what you went through, and how alone you’ve been. I want to help you. We’ll— we’ll figure something out about there being two of you, we can keep it secret or create you a new identity or anything, anything you wanted, you hear me?” Tony set the vials on the counter and strode over to Peter, putting a rough hand on his face.
His expression was twisted with a desperation that Peter only remembered seeing once. In the last moments of Titan as he crumbled to dust in Tony’s hands.
“I would do anything to save you, you hear me?” Tony said fiercely. “I don’t give a damn about the laws of science. I invented time travel so I could bring you back from the dead, so don’t for a second underestimate what I’d do for you, kid.”
Peter felt a tear drip down the side of cheek as he stared at Tony silently, unable to get any words out. As Tony wiped away the tear with his thumb, he squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a sharp, unsteady breath.
“Do you want to go back?”
Tony’s question reverberated in Peter’s head like an endless echo, pushing relentlessly against every barrier he’d set. He was weak. If he was stronger he’d shout and yell and exclaim that no, he had to go back because the other world needed Spider-Man. But Peter Parker was tired.
Peter Parker from 2026 was standing in Tony Stark’s kitchen in 2023 where he very much should not be, and for the first time in over a year, he felt loved by someone.
Slowly, he cracked open his mouth, blinking his eyes open at the same time.
“No,” he breathed, voice hushed as if he said it louder, it might break some cosmic code. Then he summoned a bit more strength. “I don’t want to go back,” he continued, a bit louder, a bit firmer.
Tony’s shoulders sagged immediately, relief pouring into his posture as he dropped his hand from Peter’s face and pulled him into a hug. “Thank god,” he muttered.
Peter laughed shakily, his eyes watering as he sagged forward, clutching the back of Tony’s shirt. “I— I can stay?” he whispered.
“Yes— god, yes you can stay,” Tony huffed out, his voice thick. “I’ve got like three guest rooms, you can have your pick of the lot. I’m sure Pepper would be happy to help with all the decorating what not and—”
“Wait,” Peter pulled away, eyes wide. “Here? You want me to stay here?”
Tony squinted at him. “Did I not make that clear enough? I mean— I guess I could set you up with an apartment somewhere if you really wanted, but with all your many depression speeches I figured it might be better for you to stay with someone. I could ask Cap or Nat or something if you really didn’t want to stay here—”
“No!” Peter half shouted, cutting him off before flushing. “I— I just… I mean— they’re nice and stuff but I— I wouldn’t mind being here. As long as that’s not like a problem for you though because I don’t want to impose or anything—”
Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, halting his anxious ramble. “Pete, I’d be more than happy for you to stay here.”
A hesitant smile crept onto Peter’s face. “Okay,” he grinned. Then he froze, his eyes catching sight of the Pym Particles on the kitchen counter. “Oh my god— tomorrow is— you’re going to—”
“Stop Thanos?” Tony interrupted. “Yup.”
Peter blinked rapidly, barely listening to Tony ramble about the plan they’d come up with, as if Peter didn’t already know what was going to happen. “I can— I can fix it,” Peter whispered, half to himself. “I can help you guys!” he exclaimed, hope lighting a fire in his chest.
“What?” Tony asked, confused. “I thought you said we succeeded?”
Peter’s face paled slightly. “I— okay, I sort of lied because I didn’t want to break anything. But I don’t really give a shit anymore and I— I’m not gonna sit by and let anyone die.”
“Die?” Tony shouted. “Yeah you failed to mention… that…part,” he trailed off, gazing at Peter with a loaded expression. “I die tomorrow, don't I? That's when it happens.”
Peter’s face hardened. “Not if I can help it.”
“That’s why you’re here today,” Tony muttered as realization dawned on his face. “This is the last possible time you could’ve chosen to see me. You— you barely got to see me when you got back or— did you even see me?”
Peter bit his lip. “You hugged me on the battlefield,” he answered softly. “I— I don’t remember what you said. We got separated for a while and the next time I saw you, you were— it was too late.”
Tony leaned back against the counter, a dazed expression on his face. “Battlefield? What the hell went wrong?”
“A lot,” Peter winced. “Thanos from the past figured out how to follow you guys back to the present, and he decided this time he wanted to kill everyone, not just half. You— you used the infinity stones to stop him, and…” he swallowed. “Humans can’t— can’t exactly survive that.”
Tony’s expression was dark as he stared at something behind Peter, clearly contemplating the new information.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked cautiously.
A teasing glint banished the serious look on his face as he glanced back at Peter. “What happened to Dad?” he grinned.
Peter nearly choked, his face burning in embarrassment.
Tony just laughed, slapping Peter’s shoulder. “Come on kid, let's get down to my lab, I clearly have some plans to adjust.”
“W—what?”
“You gonna help me or what?” Tony smiled. “Now that I’ve got my right hand man back, maybe we can cook up a plan where I don’t end up six feet under, yeah?”
A startled laugh slipped from Peter’s chest. “Sure thing, boss,” he replied with a grin.