Chapter Text
Peter Parker had learned how to live without Tony Stark.
That was the first thing he told himself every morning.
It had been years.
Years since the Battle of Earth.
Years since Tony had looked at Peter for the last time, raised his hand, and made the choice that saved everyone else.
Years since Peter had stood there and watched the light disappear.
He had learned how to keep moving.
He went to school.
He worked.
He helped people.
He paid his bills.
He fixed his own suit.
He learned how to cook because there was no one left to tell him he was going to burn the kitchen down.
He learned how to sleep alone.
He learned how to wake up from nightmares without calling anyone.
Most importantly—
he learned how to stop expecting Tony Stark to come back.
Peter was good at it now.
Or at least, he thought he was.
Until the night the lights in his apartment went out.
⸻
It was 2:13 a.m.
Peter was sitting at his desk, half-reading a research paper and half-falling asleep when every electronic device in the apartment suddenly shut down.
His laptop screen went black.
The refrigerator stopped humming.
The digital clock on the wall disappeared.
For three seconds, the entire apartment was completely silent.
Then—
CRACK.
Something split open in the middle of the living room.
Peter jumped to his feet.
His spider-sense exploded.
He barely had time to move before a wave of blue-white energy tore through the room.
“Okay—okay, that’s definitely not normal.”
Peter reached for the mask lying beside his desk.
The air twisted.
The floor shook.
Something—or someone—was falling through the distortion.
Peter raised both hands.
“Hey! Don’t move!”
The figure hit the floor.
Hard.
The distortion collapsed.
Silence.
Peter stood frozen.
The room smelled faintly of ozone and burnt metal.
He slowly lowered his hands.
“…What the hell?”
The figure moved.
Peter’s heart stopped.
A man pushed himself up from the floor.
Dark hair.
Black shirt.
Familiar shoulders.
Familiar face.
Peter stared.
No.
Absolutely not.
His brain refused to process what his eyes were seeing.
The man looked around the apartment, confused.
Then he looked directly at Peter.
And said—
“Peter?”
Peter stopped breathing.
The voice was exactly the same.
Older than the memories in Peter’s head somehow.
But unmistakable.
Peter took one step backward.
“No.”
Tony frowned.
“Okay. That’s not exactly the welcome I was hoping for.”
Peter’s hand began to shake.
“No.”
Tony stood.
“Peter, what’s wrong?”
“You’re not real.”
Tony’s expression changed.
“…What?”
“You’re not real.”
Peter backed away again.
“You can’t be here.”
Tony stared at him.
For the first time, something uncertain crossed his face.
“Peter.”
“Stop.”
“It’s me.”
“Stop.”
Tony took a step forward.
Peter immediately raised his hands.
“Don’t.”
Tony froze.
Peter’s breathing was getting faster.
“This isn’t funny.”
Tony looked genuinely confused.
“Funny?”
“You’re dead.”
Silence.
Tony stared at him.
Then he laughed once.
A short, confused sound.
“Okay.”
He looked around the apartment.
“Clearly I’ve missed something.”
Peter couldn’t move.
Tony looked back at him.
“How long has it been?”
Peter swallowed.
“What?”
“Since—”
Tony hesitated.
He looked down at his own hands.
Then back at Peter.
“How long has it been since I died?”
Peter’s eyes burned.
“Five years.”
Tony’s face went completely still.
“…Five?”
Peter nodded.
“Five years.”
Tony looked away.
His expression slowly changed.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Then something much quieter.
“That’s not possible.”
Peter’s voice broke.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Tony looked at him.
“I know.”
Peter laughed bitterly.
“No, you don’t.”
He wiped his face quickly.
“You don’t know.”
Tony didn’t answer.
Peter stared at him.
“You don’t know what happened after you died.”
Tony’s voice was barely audible.
“Tell me.”
Peter shook his head.
“No.”
“Peter.”
“No.”
Tony stepped closer.
“Please.”
Peter’s eyes filled with tears.
“I had to watch everyone move on.”
Tony went still.
“I had to learn how to be Spider-Man without you.”
“I had to learn how to make my own decisions.”
“I had to learn how to fix the suit when it broke.”
“I had to learn how to cook.”
Tony blinked.
“Cook?”
Peter laughed through the tears.
“Yeah.”
“I learned how to cook.”
Tony looked at him for a long moment.
Then, somehow, he smiled.
“That sounds dangerous.”
Peter’s laugh broke.
A real laugh.
Small and painful.
“You’re still an idiot.”
Tony nodded.
“Yeah.”
Peter looked at him.
And suddenly all the anger disappeared.
There was only one thought left.
He was here.
Tony Stark was standing in his apartment.
Alive.
Peter didn’t know how.
He didn’t know why.
He didn’t know whether this was real.
But he was there.
Peter crossed the room.
Tony barely had time to react before Peter grabbed him.
Hard.
Tony froze.
Peter buried his face against his shoulder.
His hands were shaking.
Tony slowly wrapped his arms around him.
“Hey.”
Peter couldn’t answer.
Tony tightened his arms.
“Hey.”
Peter’s fingers curled into the back of Tony’s shirt.
“You weren’t supposed to come back.”
Tony closed his eyes.
“I know.”
Peter shook his head.
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“I know.”
“Because I already learned how to live without you.”
Tony’s arms tightened.
“I know.”
Peter’s voice became almost a whisper.
“So why are you here?”
Tony didn’t have an answer.
For the first time in his life, Tony Stark had absolutely no idea what to say.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
He held Peter.
For a long time.
Neither of them moved.
Eventually, Tony spoke.
“I don’t know how long I get.”
Peter lifted his head.
Tony looked at him.
“But I’m here.”
Peter stared into his eyes.
Tony swallowed.
“And if you’ll let me…”
He hesitated.
“I’d like to stay.”
Peter’s eyes filled with tears again.
“You can’t promise that.”
“No.”
Tony gave him a small, tired smile.
“I can’t.”
Peter looked at him for several seconds.
Then he reached up and touched Tony’s face.
Warm.
Real.
Alive.
Tony leaned slightly into his hand.
Peter closed his eyes.
For the first time in five years—
he allowed himself to believe it.
Tony Stark was home.
At least for tonight.