Glass
Chapter 5- Glass
Peter was in the soul world. He was sparring with Gamora, and even though he wasn't even close to her level, he was steadily getting better at fighting.
They couldn't keep track of time in the soul world, but it had been approximately 8 months since they first appeared there. Peter figured the only reason all of them hadn't either fallen into a coma or gone insane was that they had each other. In the soul world, they had to figure out a way to pass the time. They couldn't sleep, eat, and there were no material objects other than the clothes on their backs. They didn't get thirsty or hungry, they didn't get dirty or sweat. It was like they were hardly alone.
Sparring with Gamora was one of Peter's favorite and most common pastimes. She was a master fighter, and he had already improved to the point where he could beat most of the people in their group.
Shuri was no challenge. Bucky, Sam, Old Peter, and Mantis were all easy to beat after the first month. He could beat Groot and Drax, but it took some effort. He still hadn't managed to defeat Gamora, Doctor Strange, or T'challa.
His progress had been rapid at first, Gamora teaching him how to use his spidey-sense and reflexes to take down opponents. Peter appreciated it because he could get rid of all his ent up energy, as well as his frustrations.
After being stuck with the same ten people for 8 months, petty arguments and hostility were a reasonably common occurrence.
But the eight months had also weighed on them in other ways. The power of the soul stone was continuously pressing against them, trying to get them to submit. They all tried their best to keep up their defenses, but sometimes Peter caught himself wondering why he was even fighting it.
He was stuck in an endless plane with no means of escape. If anything, wouldn't it be better to just go to sleep, end the constant boredom and suffering?
Peter got snapped out of his thoughts when Gamora knocked him to the ground. She smiled at him and held out her hand." You're getting better every day. I'm sure one day, you might even be able to beat me."
Peter cracked a grin and dusted off his legs. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, oh wise master."
She laughed and ruffled his hair, walking towards the rest of the group. "Let's call it a day, then. Your butt must be sore from constantly getting knocked down."
Peter grumbled in annoyance but walked with her. They sat down next to Dr. Strange and Sam Wilson, who were talking about something to do with physical therapy and whatnot. Gamora started talking too while Peter just sat back and watched.
He was looking at Sam when he noticed something was off. Sams whole face was drooping, and it seemed that his speech was getting slurred. Gamora and Strange seemed to see it too because Gamora leaned forward and shook him.
"Sam? Sam! What's going on with you?" Her voice sounded more concerned than he had ever heard before. But even though she was practically screaming in his face, Sam's face kept getting droopier. It almost looked like he was just falling asleep on the spot. Only then did Peter realize what was happening: the soul stone. It was taking Sam.
Peter felt a surge of panic take hold, not knowing what to do, He watched Gamora and Strange struggle to keep him awake, while the others gathered around frantically.
In the end, though, nothing could be done. Sam slumped forward, gone. His pulse was weak, and he was barely breathing. He was in the coma-like state, and wouldn't wake up.
And just like that, their group of ten was now nine.
---
Peter woke up. The clock read 5:00 am, but by that point, he was used to waking up cold early in the morning. He sighed and headed to the fire escape. Usually, he would just try and ignore his dreams, go back to sleep.
But this time it was different. This memory bothered Peter. It wasn't like the ones he had before. The other ones were mundane, boring. Bits and pieces of conversations. But this memory showed something different. Seeing Sam… he didn't even know what to think. Sam was gone, just like that. It terrified him.
And even though he left that place, what he saw still scared him. It haunted him, always in the back of his mind.
The more Peter learned about his time in the soul world, the more uneasy it made him feel. He dreamed about it almost every night, the memories coming back with such intensity that it made him dizzy. And with more and more memories flooding his head, the more he could feel the impact of the soul world. The more he remembered, the more he was aware of the effect the world had on him. He could almost feel its presence on him, around him, like a physical weight. It was still pressing down on his mind, waiting until he gave up.
The cold air from sitting outside made him shiver, but he didn't move. He couldn't. He felt frozen, too caught up in his own mind. He sat in silence, thinking. The soul world enraptured his mind, not allowing him a moment of peace. And the more he thought, the worse he felt. It was like there was chaos inside him. He couldn't sleep, couldn't get a moment of rest.
And the chaos inside him was like a vortex. It pulled him in, trapping him in his own mind, making him panicked.
But as he sat in the cold night air, and he felt the panic take hold, he dug his fingers onto his leg. A week ago, he got that stab wound, and since then, had re-opened it about 12 times. He managed to hide his bloody bandages from May, so at least she wasn't too worried about him. But he kept on digging into his leg, desperately searching for the sharp pain that brought relief to his mind.
By that point, he was grateful for the pain. Pain felt like the only thing tethering him to the real world. Every day, every moment, nothing felt real. He felt hollow, feeling disconnected from everything he did or said. It was almost like he was in the third person, just an outside observer of his own life. It felt like if the world was a computer, he had all the wires unplugged, no longer part of anything.
That feeling only grew as time went on. Every time he went out, as spider-man or as Peter, he would see ordinary people going about their lives. The world had changed, but people adapted, moving on.
Peter saw other people moving on, and it only reminded him of how stuck he felt. He felt like he had left himself, either in 2018 or the soul world, he didn't know.
He sat outside for an hour.
Most of it, he didn't remember. It was like he blinked, and the sun was rising. He shivered and climbed back inside. May had finally managed to clear out the spare room of all of Harleys stuff, and the room was christened his.
And even though he now had a room to sleep in, and May had cleared out all of Harleys stuff, it still smelled like him. Everything Peter touched in that room smelled like Harley. Well, that wasn't saying much, considering the place was pretty bare. Most of Peter's stuff had gotten lost or sold, so there was just a bed, a small desk, and a near-empty wardrobe.
Peter left his room and made breakfast, preferring the kitchen to 'his' room. May got up around the time he finished, greeting him with an awkward "hi."
They sat together for breakfast, awkward silence filling the room for a moment. May spoke, clearly trying too hard to seem casual. "So how's it going, sweetie? It's been a little over two weeks since you came back! How do you feel?"
Peter knew she was trying. Of course, she was trying. She still cared about him. But it was all wrong.
"I'm doing fine, May."
A lie.
"You shouldn't worry about me, though."
Don't burden her with your problems.
"Worry about Pepper and Tony."
Tony…
He gave her a smile, trying not to look strained. She leaned forward, patting her hand to his head.
"God, five years and you're still as sweet as ever. You have no idea how much I missed you, kiddo. You have no idea how many times I wished I could introduce you to Harley and Morgan…"
Of course. Harley and Morgan. Those were the kids she cared about. They filled the gap for her. No matter what, the conversation would lead back to them.
"...anyways, I'm so sorry kiddo, but I have to head into work today. I've been trying to get some time off so we could hang out, but everything's just so busy-"
Peter interrupted her, "-May, its totally fine, I get it. There's no need to apologize," He chuckled, standing up, "Other people need you. Plus, I'm fine on my own."
She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks for being so understanding. Oh, by the way, I'm going shopping later. Anything you need, besides some clothes?"
"Oh yeah, actually. I was wondering if I could get a phone? It doesn't have to be new or anything, it's just that my old one doesn't work anymore. Y'know…"
"Oh, of course, I hadn't thought of that…"
The conversation ended there.
As soon as May was put the door, Peter put his suit on. He wasn't exactly keeping it a secret that he was going out as Spider-man again, but he'd rather not talk to May about it just yet.
He'd been using Spider-man as an excuse to go outside and spend his time doing something useful. Even though he just came back from the dead, so had half of the world. It was no excuse to take a break, especially since people needed his help more than ever.
With the number of people who came back, there were lots of people without homes or jobs, desperate people. Those people stole, killed, did anything they could to survive. And while Peter wasn't blaming them, he had to protect everyone.
His presence wasn't always welcomed, though. There were plenty of people angry at the avengers, needing someone to blame for all the problems in the world. J. Jonah Jameson was working his ass off, making people think that he was a menace.
Jameson would tell stories of people displaced after the snap, tell stories of how "Spider-man caused damage here!" or "Spider-man hurts more people than he helps!"
And as much as Peter hated the things he said, he couldn't help but agree. When he went out, all he could think about were the people he failed to save. All he could think about was that, had he been a little bit faster, Tony might not be in a coma. If he were a bit stronger, he could have saved so many lives.
But he was slow, and he was weak.
As he swung, his mind drifted to the men he took down last week. "Took down" being a loose term. It was more like he beat them into the dirt.
He kept on seeing the image of the mans bloodied body, barely breathing. And given how hard he hit the other guy, there was a high chance that he sustained some sort of brain damage.
Luckily, the men never reported them, but it was most likely out of fear more than anything else.
And then there was the third man from that night. The one that snapped. Peter was avoiding thinking about him, not wanting to confront whatever implications that moment had.
Before he got completely lost in his own mind, though, Karen spoke in his ear. "Incoming call from Pepper Potts."
The sudden voice startled him for a moment, but he very quickly regained his composure and accepted. His mind went to all the reasons Pepper might be calling and prayed it was news about Tony.
"Hello? Pepper, is there something wrong?"
"Peter! Hey, things are still kinda frantic around here, but Tony woke up! He's still healing, but he's finally conscious, so get over here. Harley is also on his way from the cabin with Morgan, so we can all meet up to see him."
She hung up after that, sounding busy and hectic, but Peter didn't care. His excitement soared, and he felt close to tears. Finally, finally, Tony was awake. Finally, there was someone he could talk to, who would understand him.
Tony was going to be okay.
Peter could barely wrap his mind around the news. It felt like everything bad that had happened in the past five years would be erased, and he could finally go back to feeling normal.
But even through all his excitement, a little thought wriggled its way into his mind.
What if he moved on.
That thought terrified Peter. His relationship with May wasn't like it was before. She didn't know him, and he didn't know her.
If the same thing happened with Tony… Peter didn't know what he'd do. Just like that, all his excitement disappeared. Tony might be a completely different person. After all, he had spent five years on earth without Peter, building his family with Pepper.
And now that Peter was back, would Tony be willing to let him into his family? Would Tony really want Peter there, a part of the fantastic family? Harley, Morgan, Pepper, and May were all a part of that family.
No. Tony wouldn't want him. Because Peter was cursed. Peter was weak and constantly failed to save people. Peter had messed up every family he ever had. So why would Tony ever want Peter to be a part of his?
Even with all the doubts in his mind, Peter still made his way back to May's -his, he reminded himself- apartment. He changed out of his suit (can't let the doctors know his identity) and started heading to the tower.
Every second that passed on the metro was agony, as his anxiety built up until it was almost suffocating. He was terrified but also excited, just hoping beyond hope that things would be okay.
When he got off the metro, he practically sprinted the last five blocks to the tower. He burst into the tower, trying to calm down his racing heart. He slowed down and walked up to the receptionist. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say, but it didn't matter.
"Uh, hi, I'm Peter Parker, here to see Tony? Ms. Potts called me and said to come."
The receptionist glanced up, looking at him skeptically. "Yeah, sure, kid. Pepper Potts personally called you to see Tony Stark, of who's supposedly in critical condition."
"I-I get that it sounds crazy, but it's true! Please, just ask Ms. Potts, and she'll tell you. Please, I need to see him."
The desperation in his voice must have convinced her, and so although she seemed skeptical, she reached for the intercom.
Before she could reach it though, the voice of FRIDAY sounded. "The boss said to let Peter up through the private elevator."
The receptionist (who Peter learned was called Anna from her name tag) looked shocked, but got up and wordlessly escorted him to the elevator.
As soon as the doors closed, the elevator started moving. Peter tapped his foot impatiently, not really paying attention. The closer he got to Tony, the more he could feel it. It was like he could feel his presence, and he could hear the sound of his voice.
The elevator dinged, and Peter rushed out. There was enough waiting, and he needed to see Tony, needed to know that he was okay, that he was alive.
Peter was in the waiting room, and somehow, he knew precisely where Tony was, like his senses were guiding him.
He made a beeline for the door that he knew would lead to tony's section, but before he could push it open, someone put their arm in front of him.
"Woah woah woah, that's a private suite. Mr. Stark is in there, I can't let you in." Peter assessed the man. He was wearing scrubs and a lab coat, so he was obviously a doctor.
"I'm sorry, doc, but you need to let me in. Ms. Potts called me here, please…let me in." Peter's voice cracked, and he felt close to tears, but the doctor didn't budge.
"Look, I'm really sorry, kid, but there's nothing I can do. Ms. Potts would have told me if someone was coming. It's family only right now, so you'll just have to wait."
Peter felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Family only. He stumbled back and sat down heavily in a chair.
He wasn't exactly family, so he would just have to wait there. Peter mentally kicked himself. Of course, it's family only, Ms. Potts must have meant for you to wait here until you could see him…
He felt tears well up in his eyes, but just then, Pepper walked out.
"There you are, Peter! Come here, kid," she said, and she pulled him into a tight hug. "Harley and Morgan arrived with happy about five minutes ago. Tony's still awake, but he's still in rough shape. Come on in and say hi!"
Peter couldn't help but feel better at her warm smile, but as they stepped into the hallway, he just felt his nerves build up. Pepper steered him to a door, and they stepped into Tony's suite.
The room was dark, and Harley, Morgan, Rhodey, and Happy were all sitting by Tony. Pepper quickly joined them, and Peter watched as Morgan excitedly told Tony a story.
Tony…
He looked tired and not quite fully there. His entire right side was bandaged, and his hair was a mess. But still, he watched Morgan with a small smile and more love in his eyes than Peter had ever seen.
Peter saw them chat and stayed in the corner of the room. He didn't want to interrupt the moment.
Tony leaned his head towards Morgan, and whispered so quiet that Peter could barely hear, "I'm so glad my family's here. All my kids, my beautiful wife, and my best friends."
Needless to say, Peter wished he hadn't heard that. He quickly opened the door, trying to be inconspicuous. He ran into something on the way out of the room, but brushed past it, not lifting his eyes.
He kept his eyes downcast and walked as quickly as he could to the elevator. He had heard enough.
Tony has his family. And Peter wasn't a part of it.
The elevator doors closed, and the tears began to slide down Peter's cheeks. His aloneness was his only solace, as he began to sob, glad that no one was around to witness his unwarranted pain.
He had no right to feel like this. He had no reason to feel as though his heart was ripped out of his chest. He had no right to feel entitled to Tony's love, and he had no right to expect a place in his family.
The elevators opened, and Peter rushed out of the tower, hiding his face. He blindly walked, just trying to get as far away from the tower as possible.
He kept on walking for two hours, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of May's apartment. He was entirely out of it and was shocked when he entered and saw the time.
6:00 pm
Had he really walked all the way from the tower to queens?
Luckily, May wasn't home to see his ruined state. He had stopped crying but was sure that his eyes were red and that there were tear tracks down his cheeks.
He stayed silent, calmly walking to the bathroom. He stood still for a while. He started at his reflection in the mirror.
He hated it.
Without even thinking, in a flash, he raised his hand and punched the glass.
The mirror shattered, but he didn't care. He kept on punching, hitting it over and over and over until the pain in his knuckles was too much to bear.
He stood for a second, panting at the force he used. When he finally looked up to see the damage he caused, he gasped. The mirror wasn't just shattered. It was dust, crushed by his knuckles into a fine powder.
Bigger shards of glass lay in the sink, and some of them had speckles of blood.
He looked down at his hand. It was smeared in blood, dozens of tiny cuts mixed with larger ones. He could see the telltale shimmer that meant shards of glass had gotten embedded in his hand.
Among all of that, though, he didn't mind. In fact, he almost liked it. It was like his stan wound. He relished the pain, relished the feeling of clarity it brought him.
And, in some sense, he felt he deserved it. Peter was pissed, and he was pissed at himself.
He smashed the mirror, but it didn't satisfy his anger. He hated himself, hated how he acted. He was weak and pathetic and had no place in Tony's family. And yet, he still felt so disappointed after hearing what Tony said.
He didn't deserve to be a part of any family. Just now, he had crushed May's bathroom mirror. All he was was an inconvenience, a nuisance.
He was angry.
He was so, so angry.
He needed to punish himself, punish himself more. He needed to feel pain.
His eyes drifted down to the shards of glass lying in the sink.
With a trembling hand, he reached for the sharpest piece.
---
Pepper sat down at Tony's bed, and he watched Morgan tell a story that didn't warrant nearly as much excitement as she had put into it.
He felt overwhelmed by the love he felt for her, from the love he felt for everybody in that room.
Despite his burns, despite everything that had happened to him, he was happy. He had found a family and would do anything to protect it.
He wasn't much of the religious type, but still, he whispered to himself a silent prayer, a thank-you.
"I'm so glad my family's here. All my kids, my beautiful wife, and my best friends."
Thank you.
He said this too quietly for the people in the room to hear but felt a sense of fulfillment in saying it.
He was relaxed, content, for just a moment.
But then, he remembered something. Something crucial, something so important he couldn't fathom how he forgot.
"Hey, Pep, where's Peter?"