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Lost in Thoughts (and Space)

Summary:

Tony Stark's emotional thoughts on Peter Parker getting blipped right in front of him. This guy needs therapy (and so does Nebula).

Notes:

This is my first time writing a fic. I'm honestly just trying to figure stuff out, and will write more interesting/entertaining/longer things in the future (maybe?). If you have any tips, feel free to comment them.

Hope you enjoy :)

Work Text:

Tony Stark's hands were covered in small particles that were dissipating into the vastness of space. 

His eyes were open, full of shock, unable to fully comprehend what had happened. 

Tony could only think of one thing: That…dust of sorts that had once been a human being. A teenage boy. One full of life, with dreams and hopes that were honestly overflowing for someone his age. The kid was only sixteen. The kid had been only sixteen.

Yet, Peter Parker had been there a second ago, and now he wasn’t.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Those were the last words Peter had said. And instead of comforting him, Tony had just let him down, not uttering a single word while the boy himself was apologizing to him–for what, he will never know. 

Tony was a horrible person, wasn’t he?

He slowly stood up, his legs steady at first, yet he still fumbled when he started to walk.

The way back to the ship was a blur. It almost felt like he was magically transported by that darned magician. 

Strange knew this was going to happen, why did he not say anything! Anger took the place of melancholy like a wildfire burning everything in the way. 

The odd blue cyborg woman (Tony could not have cared less about her name) had followed him silently. Maybe, in another situation, he would have felt annoyed that he had to have gotten stuck with her, but he just wanted to get home. 

They slowly penetrated the ship. It wasn’t in good condition, but neither was Tony’s mental state, so he supposed it didn’t really matter. 

“Hey,” He called out to the cyborg, “Hey, umm, Cosmos, mind getting this ship to earth? I would, but…might be better if it's you.” Tony did not want to use any brain power right now.

She glared at him, but still nodded and walked to the control station. 

She uttered two words with a bite, “It’s Nebula.” 

Tony remembered she didn’t speak often, but found himself (for once) glad to maintain the silence. 

He was still brewing with his bitter thoughts that kept on growing and souring.

What if he hadn’t listened to Strange and gone with another plan…

If only Peter hadn’t gone to space with him, maybe his fate would have been different…

What if the Avengers had destroyed the mindstone immediately, instead of trying to save Vision…

This had all been in vain, he should have just stayed home on earth with Pepper.

Pepper!

Was Pepper all right? Or did she…

Tony suddenly came back to his senses. The ship felt narrower than before, even much more acute and detailed somehow. Nebula had put the steering in auto control, so the only sounds that could be heard was the slow tapping of her synthetic fingers. The silence felt hollow as Tony rambled in his mind.

Had Pepper been a victim in the snap? The odds were fifty-fifty, but perhaps Thanos could control to an extent who disappeared and who didn’t. After all, he couldn’t communicate with the rest of the Avengers, so there was a possibility that he had been the only member of the team to survive, as a sick twist of fate. Had the purple giant seeked purposely to eradicate their loved ones too? Or just the heroes that opposed them. 

Tony felt like his lungs couldn’t breathe properly.

Pepper. Rhodey. Happy. Even the Avengers (though he wouldn’t ever admit it). He did care for them. And just like that, they could be gone, just like that, in the blink of an eye. Just like the Guardians of the Galaxy, Strange, Peter (the kid was gone, Peter was gone), and half of the entire damn universe were gone.

His fist tightened onto the rough floor of the spacecraft. He hadn’t even realized sitting there in the first place. He could get up, but he didn’t feel like it.

He didn’t feel like anything. It was then that Nebula turned to him. 

“If you want to get back home, get up.” She stopped talking for a bit. When Tony stubbornly kept still, she begrudgingly spoke again. “If there’s anyone you want to see on your planet, you’re going to have to move. Now.”

Tony sighed loudly, but eventually got up. Then he staggered back down again. Pain exploded in his stomach as he recalled getting stabbed by Thanos. He had put a nanotech spray that he had created to seal the wound shut and try to heal it, but clearly it hadn’t sufficed.

The cyborg turned back at him, eyes piercing him down. 

“You’re hurt.” She looks at him up and down. “You should have mentioned tha…”

Her voice seemed to be blurred, and Tony blinked several times, trying to see where what caused her to stop. 

He soon realized it was because his own body seemed to be shutting down. The last thing he’d thought was of Pepper holding his hand while he finally gave out.

 

 

20 DAYS LATER




Even though he survived the stab in his stomach, Tony had a feeling his time in this existence was over. 

During the past twenty days, he had been occupied by healing his wound, accidentally befriending Nebula (and teaching her how to play paper football) and any other time glooming around. 

There was barely any oxygen left on the ship, and Tony estimated that in less than twenty four hours, both him and the cyborg would be dead, even with all their efforts of preserving the breathable air and meagre food quantities.

He had left a message for Pepper, if she was still alive, and really hoped that it would reach her, one way or another. Or maybe his body (and eventually his bones) would be slowly drifting in space forever.

Tony eventually started to close his eyes, his thoughts focused on a teen with brown hair and a nearly unshakable positivity. Maybe Tony would end up in the same place that Peter was.

Truth to be told, Tony missed his kid.