Orange Vortex of Motion Sickness
"I think I can do it now," Strange's strained voice echoed through the barren, dusky landscape. "But we've not got much time left. The energy I've drawn on is waning quickly-"
"We've got it, sparklehands, just open the damn time thing already!" Sam snapped exasperatedly. Bucky stood behind him, arms crossed firmly across his chest.
"This is a fine arcane craft! I can't just-!"
Strange was cut off as the energy dancing around his fingertips sparked and widened into a swirling vortex.
"...holy shit." Quill blinked, his jaw slackening.
Mantis looked mildly bewildered by the show of sorcery, her antennae twitching. "Mantis has never seen such a thing before!" She marvelled in wonder, her hands clasped in front of her chest.
"Yeah, well. This is the thing that's going to take me back," Fury interjected, stepping through the gathered crowd of Blipped heroes. He shot a sidelong glance at Strange. "Right?"
The sorcerer nodded sagely. "You only get one chance, Director." He held up one shaking finger. "One."
"I can deal fine with one chance," Fury muttered, adjusting his coat. "I have to fix what's happened. God knows I should have done things differently from the start."
Wanda, standing near Mantis, sighed. "You couldn't have known, Director. None of us did," she murmured, her Sokovian accent gently lilting her words. "But you have another chance."
"I don't rightly know what will happen to us in the stone after you enter," Strange said through gritted teeth, his hands trembling with the effort of keeping the vortex open. "But it is not a matter we can currently ponder. You need to-"
"Woah, is that a portal?!" The youthful voice of Peter Parker interjected as he skidded over. "That's so cool! That thing totally disobeys every single law of science known to man, but still-"
"Peter, we are in the middle of something-" T'Challa reached out to intercept the teenager, but reached just shy of him.
Peter stumbled as he skidded over, and Fury grabbed him, trying to corral him away from the dangerous, sparking vortex-
-but instead, pushed the vigilante straight through it.
The vortex snapped shut, spinning out clouds of sparkling, orange dust as it faded into non-existence.
The group entirely froze, staring at the space where the vortex had been for a few seconds.
"...holy shit." Quill finally managed.
----------
Peter didn't know how long he was hurtling through the vortex.
All he knew was that it was very orange, and he felt very motion sick.
And sick in general.
By the time all of the golden, warm colours had stopped rushing past his face and whistling unbearably in his eardrums, he came to enough to see pavement.
Wet, damp pavement. Peter squinted, frowning as he pushed himself onto his knees. Pavement? He hadn't seen that since before the Blip had killed him.
How... Was he back? He was dead. Was this a dream? But the people in the soul stone couldn't dream. They couldn't sleep. What was going on?
He (rather unsuccessfully) wiped his soggy hands on the Iron Spider suit.
"...Karen?" He tried, his voice croaky and hoarse. "Karen?"
"Yes, Peter?"
Peter could have collapsed in relief, but he was already sitting back on his knees. On the pavement. In an alleyway?
"Where am I?" Peter asked shakily.
"I am sorry. The internet here is not up to my standards, Peter." Karen said. "I am unable to connect to the GPS."
Oh, Peter thought. Wonderful.
"Oh, okay. Um, thanks anyways, Karen."
"It's always a pleasure, Peter." Karen replied, her robotic voice sounding slightly happy somehow.
Okay, okay, Peter got to his feet, trying to brush himself off. You don't know where you are... Karen can't connect...
He blinked up at the clear, sunny skies.
Looks like earth.
That doesn't make sense... Is he... Alive again, or something?
Peter pressed the spider emblem on his suit, and the nanites quickly retracted into a disc shape engraved with a spider.
He patted his dusty, worn (and torn in some minor places) jeans, before carefully slipping it into his pocket.
Taking a tentative look around, he made his way out of the alleyway, into the bustling, busy street.
Huh. Kinda feels like-
New York Times, on a stand a few yards away.
Peter pulled his sleeves lower, over his web-shooters, before hurrying over to the stand.
Also. Newspaper stands? Since when were those still around?
Peter clutched one, pulling it close and scanning it over.
March 30th, 2012.
That date glared at him from the page, and it took Peter a minute to process that information.
2012?
What was this, some sort of... Of... Of joke? An early April Fool's?
March 30th, 2012. The year of... The Battle of New York?
The one with... What was his name, Loki? Eugh, Peter shuddered. What a villain-y name. Peter didn't know what about it gave him bad vibes. It just did.
Well, maybe that and the fact he attacked New York with aliens. Peter was... What, 10 when that happened?
He remembered sitting there, on his bed, messing with Legos and his Iron Man mask, when Uncle Ben and Aunt May came rushing into his room and scooped him up and away.
He had been so upset from being dragged away from his Iron Man Lego session.
He'd had no idea of the enormity of what was going on.
Peter wished he'd not been so difficult for Ben now.
"You gonna buy that, or keep staring at it like some thief?" A harsh, heavy voice growled gruffly from beside him.
He snapped up, wide-eyed. The vendor was glaring icily down at him, as if challenging him to steal the paper.
Peter fumbled to put it back, squeaking out a hurried, "Sorry!" and rushing off through the crowd.
He could feel the glances of judgement for his worn clothes.
Wasn't his fault he'd been in a war only just.
Of course, they wouldn't know a thing about that... If it really was only 2012. And March, too... Man...
So what was he supposed to do?
He couldn't go to Ben and May's, who knows what sort of paradox that would unleash?
Christ. What would Tony do?
Peter vaguely remembered Tony telling him about the time he was stranded for a bit without his suit...
He mentioned finding shelter.
So he should probably do that.
Find shelter.
But where? He couldn't go to the Tower right now, not a chance. Was that even built?
Peter glanced up and around, searching for that familiar skyscraper peeking over the buildings around him and breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it.
Still. 2012 Tony and Pepper wouldn't have a clue who he was. He couldn't just rock up to the tower and demand to be let in.
Oh, but how badly he wanted to see Tony. After how he died? God, he wanted to throw his arms around the man and never let go, even if it embarrassed him, or was awkward.
"Okay, Parker," he mumbled to himself, dodging and darting through the crowd on the streets. "Shelter. Find... Shelter."
His stomach growled.
He made a mental note to find food, too.
Peter tried to think about the layout of New York.
It seemed similar to what he was used to so far. Nothing too big had changed.
...any abandoned places he remembered? He could try and hole up in one of those.
Peter turned a corner subconsciously, his feet carrying him without him truly knowing where he was going. He was too busy thinking.
Before long, he'd ended up in front of a fire station.
Hold on, Peter thought, A fire station?
He blinked, racking his brains to try and remember why this was significant.
Oh. It's abandoned. He remembered seeing it a couple of times on patrol, the shattered windows, the busted doors...
Was it already abandoned in 2012?
Peter scanned the building.
The door was busted. He could see the gray exterior paint peeling from here.
...so he's got shelter.
If he can get in.