What the Hell happened to you while I was gone?
Peter stumbled through the tulip field, not even sure of where he was going: he just had to get away from there. There was talking, so much talking! Was it even real? Were those people even real? Or were they illusions? Just like how Nick Fury had been an illusion.
He stumbled on, then finally fell to the ground sobbing. And I wanted you to be better! Tony's words echoed through his mind. So much for being better: he had known that was never possible, but he always tried. He had always known he wouldn't be better than THE Ironman, but it was worth giving it a shot.
If maybe he had been a bit more like Ironman, he wouldn't be in this situation right now. Tony would have done the right thing. Tony would have known what to do. Tony wouldn't have messed up.
Though in all fairness: Tony wasn't really doing a lot right now, except sleep. Forever. Just on and on and on. They said he would wake up. They said he would. It had been eight months.
The first two he had stayed at the tower, hoping to see Tony wake up. In the third he went out on patrol again. In the fourth he visited every week. The fifth, once a month. The sixth he only came by when Pepper needed someone to babysit Morgan.
Are you my big brother daddy always talks about? She had asked him innocently, staring up at him when he was in the waiting room, just hoping beyond all hope that Tony would survive. He had just nodded: he din't know what to say! Had Tony really called him that?!
In the seventh month, Peter always babysat Morgan in his own home. Then the eighth month came, and he never visited the tower. He went on a school trip and messed up. Big time. Some big brother he was to Morgan, couldn't even go on a school trip without endangering the entire world, endangering her.
His body racked with another sob, this one louder than the ones before. Tears streamed freely down his face as he pulled his knees up to his chest. IF only he had been as good as Ironman, if only one day he could've been better. How could anyone ever be better than Ironman?!
Someone walked through the tulips, their feet making a familiar rustling noise, as if Peter knew them. He sighed: must be Beck. Come to torment him more? Had he not lost enough already? Why did Beck insist on hurting him even more.
'Kid?' a voice asked softly, 'You alright kid?'
Peter's breath hitched in his throat: he knew that voice like the back of his hand: Tony. But it wasn't real, Tony was in a coma. Tony was never waking up. Tony would never be around to hear him utter his real name.
Oh, how he regretted all those years in which he plagued the poor guy by calling him Mr Stark. If only he had called him Tony at least once. If only...
'Go away, I know you're not real.' Peter said, wiping away the tears from his eyes as he looked up at Tony, his face etched in pain and sadness as he looked down on the boy, 'I know he's not here, Beck. Stop already with these games. I've had enough.' Peter added, his eyes drifting away from that face.
It looked so real, so realistic, so touchable: like he could actually stretch his fingers out and make contact with the fabric of Tony's clothes. Beck even got the smell right: rusty motor oil and a dash of Pepper's perfume. Tony. He had made the illusion smell like his father... father-figure, not his father, he corrected himself.
He heard Tony's voice hitch as he softly crouched down to the boy's level: 'What the hell happened to you while I was gone?' Tony asked softly. But it wasn't Tony. Peter would tell him, reveal crucial information, and it would just be those stupid drones again.
'Stop acting like you're Tony!' Peter cried out, hiding his head in between his legs, 'It won't work, It won't work. You're not real. You're not real. It's just and illusion. Not real. Not real.' he repeated, over and over and over and over again.
'Kid, whoah, whoah. Take deep breaths, come on!' Tony told him frantically, rubbing circles into his back like he did that one time when they had hugged. That one real hug that they had shared. 'You gotta breathe okay kid?'
'You're not real.' Peter mumbled, pushing away from his mentor, his hero, looking at him in pure disgust, 'I'm done with this Beck, just leave me alone.'
He glanced back at the Tony-Illusion, TI, he decided to call it: that way it didn't feel so personal, that way, if TI this something horrible, Peter would blame it on TI, not on Tony. Good old Tony, he'd have a laugh if he saw his doppelgänger. He'd probably make a lame joke about it: how there wasn't enough room in the world for two Tony's or something like that. Instead, Peter was stuck with good ol' TI.
TI's face was wearing the expression Peter had never seen before on Tony's face: sadness and anger at the same time. See, TI wasn't real, the real Tony would never be sad and angry at the same time. The real Tony would be disappointed with how badly he messed up.
'How can I prove it?' TI asked, settling himself cross-legged across from Peter.
'What?'
'How can I prove to you that I'm real. The one and only, true genius playboy philanthropist Tony Stark.'
**Tony POV***
Tony ran over through the tulip field to where the tracker in Peter's shoe indicated he was. Tony had woken up from his coma about two days ago, finding all of his friends around him, as the Avengers, once again, had their own tower. The only thing that had been missing was his son... no wait, his kid... no wait, the kid? Heck, what was he supposed to say? Teenager?
A quick hacking job from Natasha showed him fighting a monster in Europe. Well that was weird: what happened to being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man? Clint found the answer to that: a school-trip.
Trust Peter to get into trouble on a school trip. What do you do if your youngest teammate is fighting monsters all by himself with some other weird superhero no one has ever heard of before, whose name is literally Mysterio (honestly dude: get some taste).
You track him down, load up a plane with the whole team, and fly over to Holland. At least that's what the Avengers did.
'Guys, if you don't mind, I'd like to go first. Say hi to the kid. Don't want to overwhelm him. After all: I was kind of out of it for about 8 months.' Tony asked the team, whom all agreed about it. Clint went to make a comment, then remembered his hair, which Tony had already pointed out looked egregious, and decided now was not the time to get Tony to insult him.
So now Tony was walking through the tulips, idly thinking of a good pick-up line to tell the baffled teenager. Then, he heard sobbing. Long, racking, horrible sobs. Peter was crying. His kid was crying.
Tony rushed forward, stopping in front of the crying teenager, who had his knees tugged up to his torso: 'Kid, are you alright kid?' Tony asked. Dumb question: he knew Peter wasn't okay. Softly he ordered FRIDAY to read Peter's vitals. His suit was up and running again, courtesy of Peter, who had repaired it as good as new, if not even better.
'Go away, I know you're not real!' Peter bit at him, burying his head even deeper into his legs. Tony gasped softly:
'What the hell happened to you while I was gone?' he asked, shock evident in his voice. FRIDAY's voice, meanwhile, filtered through his mask, speaking to him softly as she knew that Peter could hear her otherwise:
'He seems to have been hit by a train. He has a twisted ankle, a broken arm, several lacerations to the chest, and a cut on his cheek. Medical help is advised.'
'Thanks FRI.' Tony muttered, really getting worried now: was Peter in shock, was that it? Why did he say he wasn't real?! Why did his own kid not believe he was back?
'Stop acting like you're Tony!' Peter cried out, hiding his head in farther into his legs 'It won't work, It won't work. You're not real. You're not real. It's just and illusion. Not real. Not real.' he repeated, over and over and over and over again.
Tony's breath caught in his throat: he knew the signs of a panic attack when he saw one. Within milliseconds, he was on the ground and next to Peter, hugging the kid and speaking soothingly to him, not before telling FRIDAY to alert the other to come as well, and quickly at that.
'You're not real,' Peter mumbled, pushing himself away from Tony, 'I'm done with this Beck, just leave me alone.'
Tony's heart broke slightly at this: his kid didn't believe he was real. Then, realisation hit him. Hallucinations and nightmares. Who knows how many times he had turned up in those of Peter, claiming to be awake, but not really being so.
Tony sat down cross-legged from the teenager: 'How can I prove it?' he asked.
'What?'
'How can I prove to you that I'm real. The one and only, true genius playboy philanthropist Tony Stark.' Tony asked, trying to get the kid to smile, but it didn't work.
'Fine,' Peter spat, 'You want to play: Tell me three things only Tony would know.'
'Okay, well, let's see,' Tony said, thinking slightly, tyring to hide his pain at Peter's angry voice. In the corner of his eye he saw the Avengers running up, but they slowed down at a command of Steve, and slowly walked up to them. To Tony's alarm, Peter was so out of it he didn't even notice.
'Oh! Remember when I first asked you to become an Avenger, you declined. You told me that there were no reporters behind that door, whilst in truth there were 40 or so.' The Avengers looked shocked at that: they hadn't known. Tony decided that he'd tell them that story later.
'Ha! Anyone could know that.' Peter replied dismissively.
'Remember that one time I said I was nothing without my coffee, then you turned to me, and your expression was all like: I'm about to beat this guy up, as you said: well maybe you shouldn't have it then.' Peter cracked a smile, but immediately his expression turned wary again:
'Okay, that's one.'
'The first time we hugged...' Tony started, but Peter cut him of:
'Yep, that's two, no need to repeat that!' he added with a scoff.
'I once saved you from drowning by sending a robot into the lake to get you.'
'Anyone could know that.'
'I know you're the one who first started shipping Clint and Natasha. Made a fake account on twitter named Clintasha4Ever, than continued to post on it daily, just so that you could get them back for calling you a baby. Only the plan backfired and they kind of saw the points you were making in your account and actually started dating. Then you claimed that was your goal all along and Steve believed you.'
Peter was now laughing: 'Yeah, so gullible.' he told Tony, then his face lightened up even more: 'Wait, it's... it's really you?' he asked, still not seeming sure.
'You seriously want me to tell you about that one time I took away your suit and you said you couldn't take it off...' Tony started in a teasing tone.
'Nope, nope, nope, nope.' Peter cried, then smiled: 'You're actually really real!'
'That's a pleonasm.' Tony told the boy, cracking a smile as he leant forward and hugged him. All was good in the world... for about a second. Then Peter pulled away from the hug, and started rambeling:
'I'm so sorry! I got those glasses and it said that to whoever got them, you trusted them! I assumed it meant you trusted them to give it to someone else and I did and I messed up: he's like a super evil guy! Now he has the glasses.'
'Hey, slow down kid,' Tony cautioned, then frowned: 'Who?'
'Quentin Beck.'
'Ugh that manipulative little sh... not allowed to say that, now am I: listen, the guy is manipulative, he made me believe he was a saint for 5 whole years, turns out he was a pyscho. What do they say: like father like son, or was it the apple doesn't fall far from the tree? Both would fit.' Tony told him happily.
Peter looked up uneasily: 'You don't seem perturbed that he has the glasses.'
'Oh those, you think I'd give the real ones to Fury?' Tony scoffed, 'Nah, the real ones are hidden in a place only you could find. I gave Pepper the clue, so that she could tell you when you needed them.' Tony smiled: 'You know what the clue was?'
'Mhh?' Peter asked, finally happy:
'We're not there yet.'
'Cold.' Peter griped, 'And seriously: did you want Happy to kill you?'
'Wait, why do I have to kill someone?' Happy asked, making Peter jump:
'Oh hey, Happy, didn't hear you coming!' he exclaimed, jumping up, as if he was not right now suffering from a twisted ankle. Tony quickly found out the reason: Peter had forgotten. A cry of pain escaped the boys lips as he fell down hard on the tulip field once again.
Immediately every single Avenger was swarming around, as Steve barked orders, Tony fretted and Happy looked grumpier than usual. Peter, through the pain, noticed all the commotion and smiled: the world was right back to where it was supposed to be, he couldn't have asked for a better family.