Peter Parker had always made an effort to save as many people as he could, but many times seemed to forget to save himself when necessary. He hadn’t meant to ignore himself at first, it was just second nature; Peter had always been a selfless person. In that, he had led himself to be a bit more trusting than he should have been in most cases. An example, an example Peter wished never existed, would be trusting Quentin Beck with anything. Peter had been lucky that things ended with Peter being able to go back to his semi-normal life in New York, although now he was frequently in contact with Fury on a nearly constant basis. Apparently, Quentin had attempted to record a video and reveal Peter’s identity, but the Stark technology was programmed to protect Peter’s identity (thank god for Mr. Stark’s foresight).
Although Fury had recently told Peter that he “had something to show him” and the thought of standing in a room again with Fury was not helping the already traumatized teen. Having your school class trip ruined by fake monsters, and a man trying to murder you and your friends wasn’t exactly the mental relief trip Peter had thought it was going to be. On top of that, Fury had basically been the one to drag Peter into the middle of it, and there was still underlying resentment towards the man.
Webs stuck to the sides of buildings aided Peter in swinging his way to the location that Fury had sent him, which was admittedly a shady warehouse on the worse side of town. Luckily, Spider senses seemed to have kicked back online ever since his fight with Beck. Apparently having your life depend on using your super senses seems to peer pressure your body into figuring out whatever the hell is wrong with it. Peter gave another tug on the line of webbing and finally planted his feet on the cold cement roof of a smaller building to the right of the entrance of the warehouse. His mask’s eyes narrowed and studied the area. Peter had taken it upon himself to be a lot more cautious ever since he had gone through Quentin’s hallucinations. The only issue was at times Peter still felt like he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t. He could constantly feel that fear that maybe all of this was still some sort of mental trap and he had never really escaped Beck’s personalized hell.
“Karen?”
“Yes Peter?” The AI said in her usual kind tone.
“Do a scan of the warehouse...I just want to be sure before I walk in there.” Peter said and pulled off a small bit of skin from his lip, his anxiety stirring in him.
“It appears there are five heat signals inside of the building, Peter. Four of them are similar to the shape and height of Fury and his companions, the same as in Europe.”
Peter frowned at this, “Well, what about the fifth heat signature?” His brow was now furrowed.
“The figure appears to have a similar build to- Peter, I feel it may be in your best interest for me not to finish that statement.” Karen had woven concern into her dialect.
“Karen, what is it?” Peter’s tone turned serious and he kept himself close to the ground in a squat; defensively.
“The figure seems to be similar to that of Tony Stark, Peter.”
“That’s not possible, Karen. Mr. Stark is… dead.”
“Peter, I am unable to give a logical explanation for what I am scanning. I apologize.”
“It’s not your fault K. Let’s get this over with.” Peter hopped down from the roof, and approached the warehouse. The man, whom he recognized from Europe, pulled open the door for him. Peter’s whole body was stiff, and his breaths were heavy. He had a feeling something bad was going to happen, but not in the Spider Senses way. This felt like an emotional heaviness as soon as he entered the room. Fury’s serious gaze settling on him was doing nothing to ease his nerves either.
The warehouse was modified on the inside, looking like they had taken time to set up a temporary base of operations. There were walls that had the SHIELD logo, and reached the ceiling, forming blocked off rooms. It would be a lie to say it wasn’t a little impressive to see how fast SHIELD adapted surroundings to their advantage. The place practically looked as if they had built the warehouse themselves rather than renovate it.
“You can take off the mask, Kid. No sense in drowning yourself in spandex” Fury remarked.
“I’ll keep it on, Fury.” Peter snapped lightly at the older man.
“Fine, although I think you’ll be keen to take it off once I show you what I mentioned to you.” Fury turned and began walking down the hall the SHIELD agents had formed by making all of the surrounding rooms. Peter followed, but kept a small distance so he could satisfy his curiosity by peeking into any of the slightly open doors he passed. The strange metallic walls did well to muffle any noise inside them though, and it was hard for even Peter to hear. Fury stopped in front of him and looked Peter dead in the eyes. His face was covered in scars and his bitterness seeped from his pores. Most anyone could look at Fury, and know that the man had hatred for most of humanity. Although, in this instant, a small glimmer of something akin to pity and worry flashed in his eyes.
“You should probably take a deep breath, Parker.”
“Peter, this is where the heat signature I was mentioning…” Karen warned.
“Open the door” Peter said, refusing to acknowledge the AI.
Suddenly, it felt like all the breath had been blown right out of him. He could feel the water brimming in his eyes but it felt as if all other senses of his had been blurred. Fury said something beside him, and so did the figure in front of him but-
“This isn’t real.” Peter whispered harshly. Tony stood in front of him, and his brow furrowed in concern.
“Kid, I know this is hard to take in, but I promise-”
“Shut the fuck up!” Peter snapped and took two steps backwards, his left foot placed outside the door as he kept his body turned away from the man in front of him.
“Kid-” Fury tried to interject.
“I’m not playing this game again, Beck. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but I’m not doing it!” Peter said the last bit of his sentence, and bolted quickly through the renovated warehouse. He brushed past the SHIELD agents and pushed his way out the heavy doors. It was blurry, and his heart was in his throat. His thoughts were racing about how long could he have possibly still been in whatever hallucination this is. His chest tightened, and he wondered if he was still in Europe. What if his sense of time had been warped? What if Beck had just convinced him that time had passed to make Peter feel safe? Peter had no idea where he was headed, and eventually decided to park himself on the top of some random apartment complex. He plopped himself on the cement roughly and felt the residue of some rain from earlier in the day. Peter brought his knees up to his chest, and gripped onto his knees tight.
“Peter?” Karen’s voice rang through him, causing Peter to startle at the noise.
“You aren’t real are you? None of it.” Peter said wetly, as tears finally began bubbling out of him.
“Peter, there are no projector drones, and I am your AI.” She replied.
“How can I know for sure. Tell me something only you could know, Karen.” He demanded, and his body shook.
“You and Mr.Stark once had a bake off in the tower kitchen that resulted in you having to get stitches because you managed to drop a knife on your foot while attempting to pull the whisk from the drawer.” She supplied quickly.
Peter gave a sad chuckle at the memory, “I suppose FRIDAY told you that?”
“I was designed to communicate with him.” She quirked.
Peter didn’t respond, but rather took it upon himself to ball himself up tighter and let the sobs override him. He felt like he was drowning, but his skin burned. It was a tightness in his chest and the tears stuck to his cheeks and caught in his eyelashes. It didn’t make any sense. If there were no projectors, and Beck was dead, then what he saw made no sense. There was no footing for Peter to go off of, and that thought alone made Peter feel fear creep through him like an invasive species destroying a crop. He felt like he was being deteriorated, or eaten from the inside out, and it hurt.
‘I don’t wanna go.’
God, Peter hated that memory. He hated that he could remember what it was like to have his atoms pulled apart, and feel his regenerative abilities make a brutal effort to pull him together again. He hated that none of the others knew what he meant when he mentioned the black void of pain. He had asked Karen about why he would have experienced the snap differently than the others, and her reply was something Peter could never forget.
‘It appears that your regenerative abilities seemed to be holding on to some sort of cosmic consciousness. Would you like me to contact Doctor Strange to inquire about possible magical attributes or spiritual involvement?’
Peter had refused.
Peter prickled suddenly, and his body screamed at him that there was something behind him. Although, Peter ignored it. He felt too tired, and too sick to care in this moment.
“Kiddo?”
That was enough for Peter to pull his head up and whip it behind him, quickly peeling the mask off his face. He was now looking dead into the face of his mentor who stood in his suit, with the face shield down. Peter wanted to say something, to tell whatever this was to leave, but his own vocal chords choked him out and all that left him was a miserable whimper.
Tony moved forward and stepped out of the suit, slowly approaching the teen who was crumpled in on himself, “Pete, bud, I don’t know what happened but-”
“Wait.” Peter said softly.
Tony stopped, knowing that the ice between them was thin.
“Tell me something only you, if you’re really you, would know. If you’re Tony Stark, then prove it.” Peter’s brown eyes were wide and pleading because god he hoped this was real.
“Ok kid,” Tony sighed, feeling his heart break looking at just how scared Peter seemed, “Remember when we were watching The Mandalorian and I actually got jumpscared by the sound of the blasters ‘cuz of my PTSD, and you immediately took notice and paused it even though you love that show to death? And then you took time to make sure I was calm, and lowered the volume to make sure I felt ok?”
“Oh God.” Peter’s face showed relief and misery wrapped all into one, and his sobbing grew louder as he brought a hand up and pulled tightly at his light brown curls.
Tony no longer hesitated and rushed over to him, planted himself on the ground in front of Peter, and pulled his kid into his arms. Peter clung on to him quickly, and tightly wound his fingers into the soft fabric of Tony’s shirt. Peter was heaving out breaths, and the tears soaked into the older man’s shirt as he gently pressed the vigilante’s head into his shoulder. He gently ran his hands in the kid’s curls. Peter’s sobs , slowing their attack on the poor teen’s frame.
“I’m right here kiddo, I’m not going anywhere.” He said softly.
Peter sniffled, “Better not.” He brought his hand up and weakly pushed Tony’s chest.
“Even sad you still have sass huh?” He ruffled Peter’s hair and pulled away slightly to look at him.
“Does Pepper know?” Peter said.
“Yeah, she and Morgan got told right away. I was in a coma, but that Fury fucker thought it would be best if he let the world think I was dead for a while. I swear I nearly killed him once I woke up.” Tony stated, and bitterness coated his words.
Peter let a small laugh out, and Tony reveled in seeing the kid do something other than cry or yell.
“I’m glad you’re here Mr.Stark. I really needed you.” He pulled his hands back and began fiddling with them.
“Think you still need me around?” Tony smiled.
Peter smiled back at him, “Definitely.”
“Good.” Tony said, and grabbed Peter back into another hug, although this one felt warmer. He finally had his kid back, and he was damn sure he was not about to lose him again, or let Peter lose him again.