Finding Yourself!
~
Peter’s senses came back to him in a heavy rush as he sucked in a desperate breath. His lungs protested the action with rough hacks as dust and blood invaded his air way. Eyes clearing Peter was able to survey his surroundings. Red flashing lights penetrated the cracks of the rubble from the compound that surrounded him as water cascaded down from broken pipes. Great, buried alive once again.
Peter hissed as he struggled to his feet. His head throbbed in protest at the action. Bringing his hand to his head Peter wasn’t surprised to pull it away and find it coated with red. The situation was looking more spectacular by the second. It appeared that he was buried by a building, sporting a beautiful concussion, while his mind still echoed with Morgan’s cryptic words.
A rumble from the ground above sent more dust raining down on Peter causing him to squint. Above loud voices and blasts vibrated the concrete around him. Cocking his head Peter Listened carefully. At first all he could hear was Thor and Steve talking. After a few seconds he changed his analysis. Threatening. Yeah, they were definitely threatening someone. And naturally he was being kept from the action.
Eyes quickly scanning around Peter noticed that the shaking had shifted a slab of rubble just enough that he might be able to squeeze through. Ignoring his aches and pains Peter quickly crawled through the makeshift hole before the fighting above caused a cave in.
“Karen, you still with me?”
“Of course, Sir, what can I do to assist you?”
“Find me away out of this hellish tomb for starters.”
Karen was quite for a moment. “Keep moving straight for the next twenty feet, then to your right you should be able to find an uncompromised path to your friends.”
“They are not my friends.” Peter grumbled.
He knew that if Karen could roll her eyes the A.I would have. “To your teammates.”
Ignoring the snarky response Peter followed her directions. As predicted, he found a lightly damaged fire escape door. Shoving the rocks and scattered lumber aside Peter yanked the door open and entered the dim hall.
“Where are the stones?” Steve mumbled.
“Somewhere under all this.” Thor responded.
“Good, he doesn’t know. Let’s keep it that way.”
They must be talking to Thanos, Peter thought in frustration. They may not be friends, but Peter didn’t want anyone to face Thanos alone.
“You could not live with your own failure and where did that bring you? Back to me. I thought that by eliminating half of life the other half would thrive, but you have shown me that is impossible. Andas long as there are those that remember what was there will always be those that can’t accept what can be. They will resist.”
“Yup, we are stubborn.” Peter heard Steve sneer.
“I’m thankful because now I know what I must do. I will shred this universe down to its last atom and with the stones you have collected for me rebuild a new one, teaming with life. It knows not what it has lost but only with what it has been given.”
“A universe built of blood.” Steve countered.
“They will never know. You won’t be around to tell them.”
Peter heard Thor give a thunderous scream followed by the clanking of metal. The fight had begun, and Peter had yet to make it to the surface. He wanted to be there, he needed to help end this war, growling he picked up his speed.
Jumping over scattered debris Peter rounded a corner and was halted dead in his tracks. He gasped and clutched at his temple as the annoying mystical song sounded in his head. Morgan’s words reverberated through his mind. “We know who you are Peter Parker-Stark. Do you?”
More explosions trembled through the earth as the fight above continued. Peter desperately wanted to join them, but his heart shouted at him, for once in his life to listen to it. “Son of a bitch! Fine, you win!”
Whirling around Peter ran back through the door to follow the mystical song. His heart pounded in rhythm with his racing feet. The earth rumbled above him causing rocks and debris to rain down upon him. Peter barely paused when a slab of concrete fell in front of him. He vaulted his body over and continued to chase his siren and blinked rapidly as more dust rained down. He could hear more rumblings and shouts from above the ground, it was clear that more reinforcements had arrived. Peter could only hope they were on the Avengers side.
Morgan had said he would know what to do when the time came but Peter still wasn’t sure what she had meant. Right now, he was literally running on blind faith and that action alone was stirring up feelings of anxiety and rage. Peter Parker-Stark trusted no living being, not after everything that happened with his father. It was easier to not be close to anyone. If he pushed them away, they couldn’t get close and he wouldn’t have to feel the pain when they inevitably left.
Peter ducked under a leaking pipe just as the song reached its crescendo. Growling he whirled around looking for the source of his migraine. Under a small pile of rubble, a familiar red finger was sticking out. Peter moved cautiously over and grabbed the red metal and pulled. Instantly the dull space was filled with the iridescent glow of the Infinity Stones.
Peter’s mouth fell into a flat line, there was a part of him that wanted to take the gauntlet and drop it into the darkest pit that he could find. Then there was the other part of him, the bigger part that wanted to put the gauntlet on and finally receive his destiny. He hated that part of himself, he hated that he wanted it so bad. He had spent most of his life throwing the middle finger to destiny. He was the man that made his own destiny and it kills him that it was finally time to stop running.
Peter grinds his teeth as he shifts the iron gauntlet in his hands. “Alright you fucking rocks, what’s next?”
No sooner had those words left his mouth the Time Stone flared to life and bathed Peter in a veil of emerald green. Peter let out a startled cry and rushed to shield his eyes. The sounds of the battle faded away and the dusty air was instantly cleansed. Peter lowered his arm as the emerald light waned and he found himself standing in his old bedroom back in Queens. Peter felt his heart twist painfully, it had been many years since he had thought of his life before Aunt May had died. He let his eyes wander over his old science posters, the pieces of computers he had found in dumpsters, and his plastic Iron Man helmet. Each item brought up a repressed memory of a life that Peter wanted to forget. They were happy memories, but that happiness brought along pain that made him feel like he was suffocating. Peter Parker was dead. Venom had killed him so Peter Parker-Stark could live.
“I’m not dead.”
Peter felt his blood freeze at the familiar voice. Clutching the gauntlet close to his chest Peter slowly turned towards the voice. There sitting on the small twin mattress sat fifteen-year-old Peter Parker. His younger self was dressed in the first suit Tony had ever made him, the Spider-Man mask in his hands. Anger bubbled up deep in Peter’s chest. He didn’t understand why the time stone was showing him this, not when Thanos was currently trying to kill the Avengers.
“Who the hell are you?” Peter growled.
Young Peter picked nervously at the mask in his hands. “I’m not Morgan, if that’s what you mean. I’m you.”
Peter scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose as confusion and anger filled him. “You can’t be me because I’m me.”
“I’m the you that Venom failed to kill and I am here now to remind you of who you are.”
Peter dropped his hand and stared hard at the boy. “You’re wrong. I am Venom, he makes us strong. Spider-Man made me weak. He wasn’t strong enough to protect Uncle Ben, Aunt May, not even dad.”
Young Peter stood and walked over to his adult self until they were almost nose to nose. “You’re a liar. Venom has brought you nothing but pain and loneliness. You tell yourself that it is to keep you and the people you care about safe.”
“That’s because it’s true.” Peter objected.
Young Peter rolled his eyes and jammed his index finger into the adult man’s chest. “Then why are you more miserable now than you have ever been before. MJ, Ned, the Avengers they all wanted to help you and you pushed them away. You became the thing that dad worked so hard to get rid of. Wake up Peter and come home!”
Peter’s eyes stung as he looked down at his younger self and the anger and desperation that filled his brown eyes. He remembered all the dreams he had when he was fifteen. He was going to go to college, get married, have kids, and be the best hero he could be. Every dream involved his friends and the Avengers but when his dad died those dreams had died too. He would give anything to be fifteen again and have those dreams, but he couldn’t and he was alone now.
“It’s to late for that kid.” Peter’s eyes traveled to the pictures on the wall. He saw his younger self giving Tony rabbit ears as he held a certificate from his Stark internship. He saw another with him and Ned holding up their Lego Death Star with MJ laughing at them in the background. Lord he missed them. “I’ve done unforgivable things; all my friends and family are gone.” He looked back to Young Peter and despite himself smiled at the sight of himself in the Spider-Man suit. “Besides after everything I have done; I could never disgrace the Spider-Man suit by putting it back on.”
“Oh, screw that!” Young Peter muttered before pulling back and punching his adult self straight on the nose.
“Ow! What the hell?!” Peter yelped, dropping the gauntlet, and pinching his nose to staunch the blood pouring from the nostrils.
Young Peter bent down and picked up the gauntlet. “You disgrace the suit everyday by not wearing it. You disgrace me everyday that you don’t go by the name Spider-Man. You say that you are too far gone to come back to the life you once had. I know that Steve let you down but if we are being honest with ourselves it’s not the Avengers we blame for what happened, we blame ourselves.”
Peter spit out a glob of blood as he stared at himself. “You don’t know what you are talking about, so you better shut up!”
Young Peter chucked the gauntlet back at himself which Adult Peter caught easily. “Yes, I do, we couldn’t save Ben, May, or dad! We weren’t there and you think we let them down!”
Peter couldn’t stop the angry tears from spilling from his eyes and he hated the words coming from the kid’s mouth. “I did! I wasn’t strong enough to save them!”
Young Peter watched his adult self drop to his knees as sobs wracked his body. He carefully walked over and wrapped his arms around Peter and hugged him hard. “It wasn’t your fault. It could never have been your fault!”
Peter let out a half-chocked sob. Young Peter had finally said the words that he never knew he desperately needed to hear. He hugged Young Peter as if his life depended on it.
“I forgive you Peter. I know dad forgives you.”
Peter trembled at those words. Slowly he pulled from the hug and studied the face of Spider-Man. The look of hope and forgiveness in his expression was a wonder.
Young Peter put his hand on the gauntlet between them. The red of his suit matched perfectly with the metal of the gauntlet. “Do you know what you need to do now?”
Peter gently reached out and ran his hand over the gloved hand. The suits material felt exactly as he remembered; soft yet strong. It felt like home. Removing his hand, he took the gauntlet and returned to his feet. He looked at Young Peter and smiled, feeling peace for the first time in a long time. “Yes, I do.”
Peter stuck his hand into the gauntlet and smiled as the metal constricted around his right arm. It was a perfect fit. Peter grunted as the power of the Stones surged through his body. It did not hurt; it was comforting yet electrifying. Tendrils of power danced and waved around his body. They wrapped around him almost like a hug as if they had waited an eternity for him.
When the power surging through his body finally calmed Peter looked to his young self. “Thanks, kid!” Then he blinked from the room.
Young Peter picked up his mask and smiled before pulling it on. He opened his window and hoped onto the windowsill “He’s almost there, Morgan.” Peter shot a web and jumped. He smiled when he heard Morgan’s voice echoed in the breeze.
“Thank you, Peter. You put him on the path to home.”