Back to the Future

 
1995-
 
Peter began to panic. He walked into a shop, one that looked eerily similar to something in an old film he watched weeks before. Picking up a few essentials, his eyes fell onto a newspaper on one of the shelves. He picked it up and stared for a few seconds. A younger looking Tony Stark was looking back at him.
 
This Tony was not Peter’s Tony. He was far from it. The title was something attention grabbing; something negative about one of the young genius’ latest conquests. Peter put the magazine into his basket, a thought coming into his head. He grabbed some money out of his pocket, the money he got from dumpster diving, and paid for it all.
 
Standing outside of the shop, he thought about his next move. He stood on the pavement and flinched as people started to walk around him, pushing him out of the way. He walked down the paved streets and looked up at buildings (he only recognised a few of them) and tried to figure out how he could get to Tony.
 
Peter had never been a fan of long coach journeys, but he knew he had to get to Mr Stark’s beach house. It was a long time away and he couldn’t afford to walk there; he’d die before he reached the front door. He estimated it would take him 38 days if he tried to walk, so the next best option was spending almost three days couped up on a coach. With the last bit of money he had, he was on his way.
 
Looking outside of the window, Peter stared at the horizon as they went past. He had his backpack underneath his feet, his jacket across his lap as he tried to sleep. He knew it was a lot cause, he could never sleep properly in his bed never mind a moving vehicle. He let his eyes shut but as soon as he did, the harsh memories of the warehouse, his parents and his uncle just came rushing back to him before he could sleep a wink. He sat up with urgency, looking around him to see a few people staring at him with confused looks on their faces. He sighed, letting his head fall back to the window.
 
“You alright, son?” The man next to him said, “Where are your parents? Are you on this coach alone?”
 
Peter really, really, didn’t have the time to tell this man his life story. He took a breath, looked over at the man with a strained smile and started talking.
 
“I’m alright, sir. Just off to see my grandparents,” He lied. It came to him easily these days. People he knew told him that he couldn’t tell a lie to save his life, but they really didn’t know the half of it, he was a lot better than they realised.
 
The man simply nodded, letting himself fall asleep. Peter stared out the window once more, this really was going to be a long trip.
 
A 25-year-old Tony Stark was laid out on his king-sized bed, a pounding pain in his head. His eyes felt heavy as he tried to pry them open; the thoughts of last night adventures bringing a smile to his face. Two people were in his bed (two people that he couldn’t name). He looked down at the half-naked man and woman and laughed a little to himself. The PR unit were going to kill him if the paparazzi got pictures of this. Managing to prop himself up, he shook the people awake. Getting them out of his house was the next priority.
 
As soon as the couple stepped out of the front door, Tony’s feet took him down to his laboratory. He worked on his cars, on the newest weapons for his company. His day was only interrupted when he got an angry call from his PR department (just as he expected). He didn’t care too much. Instead, he hung up and fell back underneath the car as he listened to the music surrounding the room.
 
2018-
 
Even if he didn’t know it, the modern-day Tony Stark was in a similar position to the one in 1995. However, for a very different reason. Tony’s back was hunched over, sat beneath a hologram rather than one of his classic cars. He stared at the blueprint of a time machine; the one he made only a few hours after he learnt about Peter’s fate. It wasn’t perfect, it was never going to work until he found a way to make it work. He sat, scratching his beard, as he tried not to fall asleep on the cold floor. His red eyes, red from the restless few nights, were focused on the design.
 
Tony was dragged out of his lab by Steve’s hand. The man pulled him upstairs to the rest of the Avengers. The team had set up games’ night, just like they did every week alongside Peter (whenever he stayed at the tower). Tony sat down on his spot on the sofa. He felt numb. His heartbeat was slow in his chest, the soft rhythm distracting himself from thinking too hard about Peter. That was until he found himself looking over at the empty spot beside him. The spot where his kid was supposed to be.
 
“What are we doing?” Tony whispered to himself.  
 
He sat up. He couldn’t make it work; he was failing his Peter. His kid, the one he had grown to love, was stuck. He was stuck somewhere and was probably alone and scared. Tony didn’t even know if he was even alive.
 
“What are we doing?!” Tony repeated, louder. He got up from his spot and glared at all the team as they stared at his outburst. “Peter’s stuck in 1995, somewhere, and here we are having a movie night! Something that Peter suggested!” With weak knees, Tony turned to face the door to walk out and continue his work. “If you need, I’ll be back where I need to be! In my lab!”
 
“Tony,” Natasha said firmly, the only one to speak up. “That’s enough. We are just as upset as you are about his disappearance but we’re not going to find him if you act like that. You need to take a break, that’s all we were trying to get you to do.”

“He might be dead! I’m sorry if I can’t afford to ‘take a break’,” Tony snapped. He glared at the team, slamming the door. Before he could walk down to the lab, someone grabbed his arm. His best friend Rhodey looked at him with sad eyes, pity evident in his stare. “Don’t start-,”

“Tony...,”

“I said, don’t!” Tony said, whilst yanking his arm away from his friends grip. Tears threatened to fall but Tony kept them back, scared to what they would show. “I need him back.”

“I know how much he meant to you,” Rhodey sighed.

“He didn’t mean- I mean, I don’t care as much as you clearly think. I feel guilty, the kid shouldn’t have been there. That’s all.”

“You’re acting like a parent who has just lost a kid. If it was just guilt then you wouldn’t be acting like this,” Rhodey said, once again moving his friend so he wouldn’t walk down the hallway. “Just talk to me, Tony! I can help, we can all help. You need to talk to someone.”

“You’d don’t know shit, Rhodey! Just leave me alone so I can find my kid.” Tony froze at his own words. Peter was everything; he was like a son. Tony was going crazy without him, but he didn’t want to tell anyone. “Now, go enjoy some film. I’m going down to my lab.”

1995-

The coach pulled up to Malibu, the location of Tony Stark’s famous beach house. Peter was excited to see what it actually looked like. Tony had spoke about it before. In their time it had been blown to pieces.

He climbed off the coach with all his bags in his arms, grabbing a map that he took from a tour guide to see where Tony Stark’s house was.

When he arrived at the location, he noticed other tourists trying to catch a glimpse of Tony himself. Peter joined the group, putting a snapback over his face.

Once he got to the gates, he climbed the tall walls surrounding the home. He slid by the bodyguards, knocking on the door. When the door opened he couldn’t help but stare...

The Tony looking back at him was definitely different but, almost the same. He was less bulkier, looking closer to Peter’s body shape. His beard wasn’t quite as iconic as his Tony’s, covering more of his face than modern Tony. His hair was messy and had clearly not been styled. He wore a baggy top, one that Peter probably had in the bottom of his wardrobe (Tony gave Peter a lot of his old T-shirts and Peter cherished every single one). The young Tony’s facial expression matched Peter’s (surprised).

“I didn’t know that I planned a teenage sleepover,” Tony said, in the voice that is so similar. However, there’s not as much pain behind it. Peter could tell he harboured pain but, just not as badly as his Tony did. “Kid? Are you going to speak? Considering you did knock on my door. I can’t figure out how you did, but we’re here now. Aren’t we?”

“Mr Stark!” Peter said, his smile growing wide. “Gosh, am I glad to see you! I have a problem, you see? A problem only the smartest person in the world can fix!”

Tony laughed in the kid’s face, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. “No, I’m okay,” He said, whilst slamming the door in the kid’s face.

Well, Peter didn’t think this was going to be easy... He just had to try again before he’s stuck here too long...