What I hope to see in Far From Home..? Idk, just came to mind. Sometimes I have ideas for stories, and sometimes stories literally write themselves. The latter happened for this one.
Y'all let me know what you think.
A conversation that May and Peter Parker have in the car ride home after Tony Stark's funeral. [SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME] (duh)
POV Peter Parker:
I'm dreaming.
My eyes are thick and heavy, and all I can feel is a gentle breeze cooling my face.
I unaware of anything happening around me. Heck, I don't even know what time or day it is.
I'm sitting against something solid, not sure why I'm there, but I'm okay with that. I don't want to know.
There's just…nothing. I'm thinking about nothing, doing nothing, and feeling nothing. Nothing is easy. Nothing is good. I'm good at doing nothing. I like nothing.
Everything is just dark and gray and full of nothing.
I'm going to call it Nothingville.
"Peter?"
I hear someone say my name, but the voice sounds far away. "Someone's just trying to ruin my perfect nothing" I think. My first instinct is to open my eyes and see who called for me...but it's just so peaceful here in Nothingville. Relaxation rests thick and heavy on my mind and body, so I ignore the voice.
I drift back towards nothingness, blocking out what's left of any sensation I feel. Unfortunately, my ears prick at the faint sound of that voice calling my name again. "Teenagers are SO robbed of naptime" I think with saltiness. I attempt to make a polite request for the nap thief to leave me alone, but it comes out sounding more like a muffled "Humphhh." To my dismay, my efforts only seem to encourage said person into saying my name again.
"Peter, I'm going to stop for food. Will you wake up for a minute please?"
I want to tell the voice that there's no point stopping for food in Nothingville because there's literally nothing there, but I feel a soft nudge to my left side and I blink my eyes open.
Ouch. Well that was a mistake.
Blinding white light streams in from all angles searing into my vulnerable eyes. Holy crap it's bright! I shut them with a groan while bringing my hands up to rub at them. I think my eyes are going to be burned for a week.
"You alright hon?" The question comes from the left.
Oh…the voice had been Aunt May. Yeah. That makes sense.
I squint my eyes open a crack and turn to her, hoping she'll understand my early onset of blindness.
"H-hey May" I say sluggishly, "what did you say..?"
We're driving. The gentle breeze I dreamed about turns out is actually the AC unit cooling the car down. I realize suddenly how warm it is and shift uncomfortably in my suit.
Wait. Why am I wearing a suit coat? I never wear suit coats. Heck, I don't even own a suit coat. Last time I even remember wearing one was at Uncle Ben's funeral-
My train of thought abruptly stops as reality comes crashing back into my mind.
Mr. Stark.
Thanos.
Space.
The war.
We'd won…
I had almost died.
I had died…
It's been five years.
Five freaking years.
We'd lost Tony.
I lost Tony.
He was gone.
Not again.
We'd been at his funeral…he was…he was gone…
My stomach twists and tears threaten to fall from my eyes. My panicked thoughts start firing rapidly, "oh gosh…I can't do this. I can't do this. I don't-I don't want this."
I suddenly wish I was still dreaming my day away in Nothingville. If this is my reality, I don't want to live it.
May glances at me, taking her eyes off the road for a brief second.
"You doing alright?" May inquires again.
"I uh-I…yeah…uh…" the words choke me up. My face is warm and I feel a tear fall onto my lap. I turn to look out the window, trying to hide the hot flush of my cheeks flush from her.
"I think we need to get some food in you."
She's right. I need to eat. However, my stomach twists again at the thought of eating. Tony was gone and so was my appetite with him. Thankful for a distraction, I rack my brain trying to remember the last time I ate…not since being back from space, not during space. It must have been before my field trip. I realize with a start that my field trip happened five years ago…which means I haven't eaten in five years. I should be starving. My mind conjures up a ridiculous newspaper headline "BOY DOESN'T EAT FOR FIVE YEARS. IS FINE."
Brushing away my tears, I rotate back to face Aunt May.
"Yeah, yeah, food. Right. Uh…" How do you tell someone you're not hungry when you haven't eaten in half a decade?
As if she read my mind, May wags her finger at me and says, "I'm not taking I'm not hungry for an answer Peter."
How does she do that?
"Wwwhhaaat? No, no, I was going to say a sandwich sounds good" I counteract defensively.
A pause.
"Sounds really good...?" I try again. Hopefully that sounded more convincing than pathetic.
May narrows her eyes at me for a second before hesitantly saying "It's okay hon. I know this probably feels like it's happening all over again-" Wow, she really is a mind reader, "-I know Tony was like a father in some ways to you, but we're going to be okay. You're alive and we have each other."
Another pause.
I shift in my seat again. "I just-I can't believe he's gone…"
May sighs sadly, and I turn my gaze to the outside world rushing by. A few minutes pass in silence. May signals over lanes as we approach our exit into Queens.
"He used to come by every week you know" May's quiet voice drifts by my ears. "He-" her breath catches. "He would apologize over and over for what happened to you...when you..." she doesn't finish the sentence.
I swallow thickly, a fresh wave of tears swelling up at her words. "He-He really came by..?"
May nods her head in response, lost in thought.
"I'm surprised you let him in." I say with a small laugh.
"Oh I didn't let him in. I blamed him for what happened, and I let him bang on the door while I screamed at him from inside for the first month or two."
I let out a light snort. "That sounds awful!"
"It was…"
"And you…you never talked to him…?"
"I didn't want to, but one week he wouldn't go away, and I finally let him in to talk. I was so mad at him, but he told me...he told me I had every right to blame him, but that I had to stop blaming myself. It was his fault that you weren't safely here on earth, but then he said that you would have been...that you would have...uh...vanished anyways even if you hadn't gone up there-"
I put my hand on her arm, stopping her train of thought. I couldn't stand her breaking down over me dying anymore.
May gives me a sad smile before turning back to the road continuing her story. "He told me you died a hero." A single tear falls slowly from her cheek as she turns her gaze back to me again. "He really loved you Peter."
My eyes sting. I feel like I'm five again with how much I've cried in the last few days.
We take the deviation off the highway into Queens. It only takes a moment to find a fast food place, and in no time we're parked outside it.
Brushing my sleeve across my face for like the 17th time, I wipe my eyes and prepare to open my door. I only get as far as unbuckling my seatbelt before two arms pull me in from the side, wrapping around my head and shoulders.
"Come here kiddo." That's all it takes for me to crack completely. May hugs me as close as she can in our awkward position in the car. Her nice dress will be ruined by the waterworks gushing from my eyes. Regardless, she holds tight onto me with one arm while the other strokes through my hair as I sob into her shoulder.
We stay that way for a while. I lose track of how much time passes. My attention is captivated by the memories of my heroes dying in front of me, as if someone caught them on an instant replay camera and stuck it on loop in my mind.
Losses like these…they never disappear. I still feel a hole in my heart from Uncle Ben and, through my faded memories, my parents. Tony's name now sits at the top of my depressing list.
"We're going to be okay Peter" May whispers into my hair, pulling me out of my thoughts. Okay seems like a far way off to me, but somehow hearing her say it makes it believable. I don't think I can say it out loud quite yet though. So I say the only other thing that comes to mind.
"I love you May." My response is muffled as I cling to her.
"I love you too Peter."
When the last of my tears dry up, we let go.
"Okay, but I'm serious, you're not getting out of this car until you eat something, mister. You ready to go in?" May asks.
I check my face in the mirror, hoping it's not as red as it feels. No luck, it's about as red as a tomato. I'm a mess.
"I think so…uh…but could we maybe actually just go through the drive through...?" I sniff.
"You bet."
We'll be okay. We have each other.