When Peter wakes up, his skin prickles, his hairs shooting up like warning signs. Something's wrong. But he springs up to see he's in his bed, in the room he's lived in his whole life, the same posters lining the wall, the same half-finished hardware project tucked between his wall and his desk, his finished Lego battleship proudly sitting on his shelf. And yet, the goosebumps on his skin throb and he feels the back of his neck tingling. He takes a breath and feels like the world is screaming.

Peter jumps out of bed, his first thought his aunt's face. "May!" he yells, slamming the doorknob into the wall in his panic.

The door to the master bedroom is ajar. Peter's steps slow and something hard coils in his stomach. May's bed is perfectly made, the corners tucked into the edges like they were in a hotel. There isn't a single stray notebook or tissue on the side tables, her dresser immaculately free of clutter and stray things. Peter swallows, the oddness of everything amplifying until his anxiety spreads from his stomach to his erratic breathing. May's always a mess. She's a mess in the morning, she's a mess in the evening. She doesn't believe in making the bed. What was the point if she was just going to ruin it twelve hours later anyway?

May loves a lived-in place. Peter does too. Proof that they exist. That they have a home somewhere. The clinical tidiness of her room makes it feel like she was never there at all and Peter races back to his own bedroom, slamming the door and falling onto his bed, head between his knees. Just breathe. Just breathe.

But he can't suck enough air into his lungs.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Everything looked the same, yet everything was different. Like walking into your room to find everything moved just an inch. Where's May? What happened to her? Why is Peter even here? What time is it even? What day-

Peter blinks.

His eyes widen into something like horror and his hands shake. Barely able to speak, he tries to gasp out a cry but can't as he presses his fingers against every part of his skin trying to make sure he's alive, that he was whole where he was once dust. He remembers disintegrating. He remembers a landscape red like rust and loss. He remembers the faces of every person on that planet with him as they died. He remembers the searing pain in his limbs as they fought to keep together but lost against a force more powerful than he had ever felt. He could feel his bones tremble as they tried to keep him aloft on supports too brittle to stand. He fell into Mr. Stark's arms and cried about how he didn't want to die.

The last thing Peter saw before he turned to dust was Mr. Stark's face.

He never wants to see that face.

He never wants to see that fear ever again. Never wants to see the way his lip trembled in denial, the way his brows creased as his expression crumpled, the way his eyes seemed desperate and resigned all at once. The feeling of failure that leeched off him.

"I'm sorry." Peter had said.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. Why was he sorry? Was he sorry Tony had to see him die and think it was his fault? Was he sorry that he didn't do enough to save the world? Was he sorry that he couldn't die a hero like he always thought he would? That instead, he sobbed into his mentor's neck and begged for him to save him. As though Tony wouldn't if he could. As though Peter didn't know that the expression on his face was why couldn't it have been me.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, rocking back and forth on his bed. He couldn't breathe. He died. He died. He died he died hediedhediedhedied. Words repeated over and over lost their meaning, they become sounds that echo in the emptiness of his thoughts and yet- he died he died. If he died, then where is he? He wants to shrink into a ball and disappear. But then he remembers what disappearing actually feels like and wants to vomit. He wants to live. He wants to live. But this wasn't alive because he felt wrong. He felt less than whole though every part of him was here. But where was here? Where is he in this here but not here?

It's then that he notices the orange hue in the air. Though the world looks the exact same, it's imbued with a dewy quality that looks more frightening than beautiful. Peter stares and remembers his trip to Titan, with Tony and the wizard, Dr. Strange.

"Why did the squid guy want Dr. Strange's necklace anyway?" Peter asked, still not quite bored at the scenery of space- actual real-life outer space- but still bored enough that he needed some kind of stimulation, "Not that it isn't nice or anything. It's a really cool necklace Mr. Wizard, but you know."

Tony raised a brow at him, looking torn between being amused at his antics and heaving a very tired sigh. "That kid," he said, pointing, "is an Infinity Stone. The Time Stone actually."

"An Infinity Stone?"

"You know, super powerful space rocks. There are six of them. Hey doc, want to show us that little slide show of your again?"

Stephen rolled his eyes, "Is this really the time?"

"Have anything better to do?" Tony shot back, staring at him until Stephen relented, waving his hands in the air to show images of the stones while Tony narrated, "Anyway there are six of them: Time, Space, Mind, Power, Reality, and Soul. Each one has a different specialty, but they each pack a big enough punch to do some real damage. Remember New York? That was courtesy of the Mind Stone. And Loki. But arguably less of a threat without the scepter."

Peter brightened, looking excited as he darted towards Stephen, peering into the necklace. "Can I see it? That's so cool."

Stephen sighed. "The stone is not a toy." He reprimanded, but opened the amulet up anyway to reveal the glowing stone within it.

The green danced in Peter's eyes as he lit up. "Wow. That's so cool man, I can't wait to tell Ned. So, you can like, control time with this thing?" he asked, glancing up.

Stephen nodded. "It's dangerous to make too many new timelines though. But yes. If I had to."

"Mr. Stark did you hear that! He can go back in time! That's so awesome."

Tony cracked a ghost of a smile, "Yeah kid, it's pretty cool. And also dangerous." Serious again, Tony fixed Peter with a stare that made him feel like a child.

"That stone and the rest of them are what Thanos is after. If he manages to get all of them, he'll become the most powerful person in the universe. We can't let that happen."

Standing straighter, Peter hoped he looked as capable as he wanted to be. "Of course Mr. Stark. We're going to stop him. No doubt about it."

This time, Tony smiled for real, walking over to grip his shoulder. His hand was tight and there was something in his expression, something Peter felt too young to read. Something sad and helpless and achingly desperate. "That's the spirit."

Peter looks around him, in his bedroom, but not bedroom. The Soul Stone is orange. Stephen showed him. Back on that ship. The soul stone is orange and Peter doesn't know much about it, but if Thanos really did what he wanted to and got rid of half the population, then maybe…maybe they all went into the stone? Is that possible? Is that what the stone did? Keep souls?

Then maybe Peter's feeling is right. He's here, but he isn't here because he isn't really alive. He isn't a body. Just a soul.

Peter takes another breath.

This…this is a good thing then. Because that means that…that means that May didn't…that she didn't turn to dust like he did. That means she's alive. Peter's eyes film over but they refuse to fall as tears. The thought should make him happy. And it does. But he also feels…achingly lonely. Afraid and uncertain. He misses May. He wishes he had said goodbye when he left to school. He wishes he had given her a hug. Kissed her on the cheek. Told her he loved her more than anything and appreciated her more than everything. That she was the best family anyone could ever ask for.

But he didn't.

So he'd have to settle for the fact that she's alive on earth. Probably worried and missing him and-

Peter clenches his eyes. "I'm sorry May. I'm so sorry."

Wrapping his arms tighter around himself, Peter looks around his room and at the orange hued world. All at once, his senses go into overdrive, as though remembering reminded him that he's superhuman. The orange throbs in his eyes and his ears ring with the cacophony. The world is sobbing. The world is wailing. Looking out his window, he can see people running down the streets shouting people's names. He can see couples hugging and crying, a woman wearing clothing too big patting her stomach screaming, a child walking aimlessly. Peter swallows. This is hell. This must be hell. Everywhere he looks in this mirror world is pain and despair and loss too big to be contained in one small heart.

He has to fix this. He has to do something. He can't just sit here and feel sorry for himself when there were people suffering that he could help. He has to get them out of there.

He thinks of Tony. Of that look on his face. He thinks of Stephen, with his prediction of only one way to win. He would know what to do. He would know.

Peter nods to himself, standing on shaky legs. He has to find Stephen. He would know what to do. He would tell Peter what to do. Tony will save them. Peter knows that. He knows that more than he knows anything else in the world. It is the one fact he can count on. Because he saw Tony's expression when he died.

Tony had lost everything so many times and had remade the whole entire world to make it right. He would find a way. He would. He had to. But Peter wouldn't sit here and wait. That wasn't what Tony would do. Tony would make something from nothing and be the hero he needed to be when no one else could save him. And Peter wants to help him. He needs to. He can't sit here anymore.

With something almost like purpose, Peter strides out the door and tries not to cry alongside his half of humanity. He wants to help them, but he doesn't know what he can say. What he can possibly do. He doesn't even know where to find Stephen. Doesn't even know the first place to look. So he goes to the one place he knows could help him. He had swung his way to the tower a million times and yet he almost feels like he doesn't know the way. He doesn't really have a plan. More like a half-baked idea of asking FRIDAY to help him find the wizard hideaway. But he should have expected that he wouldn't need to do that. Because when he arrives at the lobby, Stephen is sitting on one of the lounge chairs like he had been waiting for him all this time.

"Hello Peter." He says softly and something about the way he says his name shatters the one last bit of strength inside him and Peter starts to cry like he's dying all over again.

He realizes in that moment, that though Thanos wished him out of existence, it was Stephen's fault he could. Peter flinches away from Stephen's hand when he reaches out to touch him. "I-I died." He chokes, "I died and-and those guardian guys died and even you…even you died. Like we were…like we were nothing. I died and the last thing I saw was Mr. Stark's face and do you know- do you know what that felt like?" his voice cracks as his watery gaze lock onto Stephen's.

In his eyes are eons of wisdom and tiredness. But Peter can't bring himself to be sympathetic. "I've never seen him look like that." he whispers, "He looked broken. I broke him. Everything- we all- I can't deal with this. I can't do this. Everything hurts and everything is off and I don't want to die but I don't want to be here either and I want to help him save us but why- why would you do that?" he asks, missing so many pieces of himself.

He can still remember the gauntness of Tony's face when Stephen exchanged the stone for his life. The betrayal. The agony. Tony's life for the entire universe. Despite everything, Peter understands it. A little. He wonders what he would have done in Stephen's place. He thinks he knows what Tony would have done. Had their roles been reversed. But he remembers all the crying faces of everyone who died and knows Tony would never understand. Remembers Tony's face when Peter died and knows Tony would never forgive it.

"I'm so glad Mr. Stark's alive. You have no idea how relieved I was that you saved his life. But you gave Thanos the one thing we were trying to protect. You killed Mr. Stark. Even if he isn't here. Why would you do that?"

Stephen looks at him strangely. "You remind me of him you know. I can see why he's so fond of you."

"What?"

"Tony. Tony is the key. For humanity to have the tiniest chance of winning. For humanity to have that one in fourteen million chance, the world needs Tony Stark alive. It needs him alive and motivated like he's never been motivated before."

There are a thousand words locked in Peter's throat, but he can't articulate a single one. What is he saying. What the hell is he saying.

"Believe me Peter. This was the only way. And I'm sorry you had to go through what you did. You had it harder than most. It should have been a painless passing. But it wasn't for you."

Peter ignores his apologies. "What do you mean this was the only way? Why is Mr. Stark the key? What's happening over there!"

"The future is now in motion. We can only sit here and wait for it to unfold."

Ice freezes Peter's veins. "What do you mean sit here and wait. We can't just sit here. They're busy trying to save the universe and we can't do anything?!"

Peter isn't the type to get angry. Never has been. But this is too unfair. It's too much for him. He couldn't do this anymore. How much more disappointment could a person handle before they shattered? "I can't sit here and not do something. May's counting on me. Ned's counting on me. Mr. Stark needs me-"

"You're not alive Peter." It's not harsh, but it's not kind either and Peter stops mid-sentence, staggering. "You can't do anything from here. Even the best I can do is just observe. But I can't interfere."

Everything Stephen has said to him right then becomes meaningless when Peter registers the only important part. "You can…you can see them? Everyone alive? You can see them?" his heart beat thuds in his ears.

Stephen only has to nod ever so slightly for Peter to run right into his personal space, "Show me May. Show me her please. I need to see her." He grabs at Stephen's lapel, his fingers squeezing into the fabric. "And Mr. Stark. I need to make sure he's okay."

Stephen stares at him impassive, and Peter's voice breaks, "Please."

"I can't do this often." he finally says. "It takes too much energy. I might rupture something in this new reality."

"Just this once then. I won't ask again."

Stephen uncurls Peter's hands from his shirt gently, stepping back and closing his eyes. "I can't control what I show you. It'll just be snippets of reality."

Peter doesn't care. He'll take anything he can get. Anything.

Stephen mutters something under his breath, something melodic and slow, twisting his hands until a semi-circle tinged with golden sparks appears. It's his and May's apartment. May's sitting in front of the TV, tear tracks across her face, her cellphone clutched tightly in her hand. The TV's on but it's only displaying an emergency alert. May keeps checking her ringer to see if it's on, keeps flicking through her messages, Peter can just make out his name at the top of the chat. May bites her lip, hesitates, then dials his number one more time.

Peter's heart cracks as he sees her press the phone against her ear, shutting her eyes and murmuring under her breath, "Please Peter, please please pick up. Please. Just do this one thing for me please."

But the dial tone rings empty in her ear and she cries harder. Peter presses his hand against the portal but it has the touch of glass and he wants to cry with her but he doesn't have the energy. He only feels the gaping sadness. "May." He whispers.

He watches her cry a little more before a hard knock interrupts the silence. May jumps up, sprinting to the door, looking so hopeful Peter wants to scream. "Pet-!" May stops.

Tony Stark walks through the door looking ripped to pieces. Peter's hands fly to his mouth. He looks like a corpse. Like everyone who died took every important part of him with them. He's thinner. Dark circles under his eyes and a limp on his left side where he was stabbed. "You stayed." He says softly, like he's sad for her.

Still shocked over his appearance, May reaches out to touch him, grabbing his arms. "Tony- Tony, where's Peter. Please tell me where he is. He's alive right? He's with you isn't he? I saw the news. Spiderman followed Iron Man into space. You have him…don't you?"

Pain floods into Tony's eyes like it'll never stop and May shakes her head, pulling away from him. She won't believe it. She won't. "I'm sorry May." Tony says, quieter than Peter's ever heard him. "I'm sorry."

"No." May shakes her head again. "No. He didn't…he didn't disappear. He's still alive he's just, somewhere else, he isn't- he couldn't-"

May shakes and Tony looks like he'll fall right down with her. "He disappeared right in front of me. Right in my arms. I held him when he was dying and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do one fucking thing when that kid begged me to save him. I couldn't save him May. It's my fault."

He looks at her like he wants her to hit him.

Peter wants to scream. He bangs against the glass, wishing he could be stronger than magic, stronger than the universe, so he could yell that he was right there. That he wasn't dead. That he could see them. That it wasn't anyone's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Please don't hurt yourselves anymore.

May still isn't saying anything, she's frozen and in her silence, Tony keeps talking like he can aggravate her enough to action. "I told him not to come. I sent him home. But that kid is like a leech he just sticks around and when I saw him on that ship after sneaking on- you can't imagine what I felt. But I didn't turn us around. I kept going to that stupid planet because I actually thought we could take him down before he took us all out."

"What- what are you talking about."

May's voice rings hollow, but she knows that if she doesn't hear the story then she'll just die in this very apartment because her baby is dead and she wasn't there to save him.

"Thanos. This big alien motherfucker who decided he wanted to kill half the universe." Wisps of anger pump life back into him, his voice rising with every word.

May's lip trembles.

"We went to go stop him before he collected all the Infinity Stones he needed to kill half the fucking universe. And you know what the worst part is? We almost had him." Tony's had curls into a fist. "We almost had him and we wouldn't have ever gotten that close without Peter and that's what kills me. That if he had never come then we would've lost sooner but we lost anyway and the one guy who had the one stone Thanos needed gave it to him. Just like that. Just to save my life. My life. As though I wouldn't have traded it in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get to live. I lived so that Peter could die. He begged me to save him. And all I could do was hold him as he disappeared right between my fingers knowing it was my fault."

May still won't speak.

"I did everything I could. I did every fucking thing I could and it still wasn't enough. I barely got in a scratch." Tiny tears traced his cheekbones as he shook. "It's my fault May. It's all my fault. You should hate me. I killed him. I killed Peter."

And Peter feels like he's dying all over again.

May wipes at her face roughly, her shoulders shaking. "Stop it." She whispers harshly, "Stop it- just stop it. It doesn't matter. Don't you see it doesn't matter? He's gone. It doesn't matter whose fault it was and who did what." She's angry and bitter but behind it all is an abyss of grief that plunges to her depths.

"You didn't kill him." Tony stares, looking like he wants to speak but May cuts him off, "I want to hate you." Her voice is low and hard but her expression looks one second away from tears, "I want to hate you just on principle. The superhero Peter always adored. The superhero he wanted to be like. The superhero he loved enough to go into space for." She laughs but there's no humor in it.

But she looks at him with compassion and Tony knows in that moment that there will never be a woman like May Parker. "But I know you love him. I know we both love him." Her eyes shine, her voice raw.

Tony looks at her in disbelief.

"May-"

"He's gone and we loved him and it wasn't enough-"

Tony catches her as she falls to the ground.

Tony clutches her to his chest, rocking her back and forth. Her wailing drives up the heat inside him. He won't let this be the end. He won't let it. May Parker deserves better than this. Peter Parker deserved everything and anything but this. "I'm going to kill him May. I swear I'm going to kill him. For Peter."

May pushes away from him, "What good will that do? What good will that do! I want Peter back! I want my kid!"

And for the first time since Peter died in his arms, Tony feels something stronger than grief in his veins. "If Thanos is dead I can bring him back." His voice takes on that crazy edge to it, the kind where he's onto something groundbreaking the world wouldn't approve of, that they wouldn't understand. "I can use the gauntlet, those same stones that destroyed everything can bring him back. They have to. There's no other way."

"I can save him. I can still save him."

May stops crying, something as dangerous as hope in her eyes. "Tony, don't- don't do this to me. I can't."

"Why wouldn't they be able to bring him back? What's the point of being the most powerful thing in the universe if it can't bring back one kid?" Tony insists, sounding so certain he could erode down mountains.

May looks up at him and Tony softens. "It's my fault this happened. And I'm not going to stop until I fix it. Thanos is going to regret taking the wrong life." He stands up, tall and strong, and in the slope of his back, Peter sees a hero.

The glass swirls and it's replaced by an image of May. She's in the hospital, determination set in the curve of her brow and the way she moves; like the earth will fall to pieces if she stops. She's rushing from room to room, treating injury after injury. Peter's heart swells with love. At the heart that's so big inside his aunt. May might not have superpowers, but she could still save people, in a way that was just hers.

She strides into a room holding an IV bag. She greets the patient, a young girl with long dark hair covering most of her face. "Hey sweetie. How you feeling?"

"Does it matter?" the girl responds.

"Of course it does." May says, like it's an undeniable truth.

The girl pins her with an angry stare. "You've seen the news. Half the world is dead. And the other half is either injured or in grief. What does it matter if I'm one more person who's dead?"

"It matters. Because we need to be the ones to rebuild the world and bring it back to normal for when the other half comes back."

The girl recoils like she's been slapped. "What the hell are you talking about."

"They're going to come back." May says firmly, daring the girl to contradict her. "They're going to bring them back."

"Who? The Avengers? They're the ones who lost in the first place." She glares.

"They'll win this time. Now that they know what they're losing. They're going to win."

Peter wishes he could bask in the warmth of May's faith.

The scene changes again and Peter feels something like trepidation. It's dark. An ominous green glow reflecting the inside of what looks like a ship. A space ship, if the galaxies swirling behind the window are any indication. Peter swallows before his breath catches in his throat at the sight of Tony slumped over in the corner, face sallow and so close to death he could taste it.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter whispers.

He looks half conscious, head lolling around before he suddenly sits up straight, staring right into Peter's eyes. Peter straightens, heart hammering in his throat. Could he see him? Could Tony see him? "Mr. Stark-"

"Peter?"

Peter wants to explode, his fingers slide across the glass, his face a desperate mess. "Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark I'm right here I'm-"

"He can't see you." Stephen cuts in, looking pained.

"What do you mean he can't see me? He just said my name. He's looking right at me." Peter yelled, feeling defensive and burdened all at once.

"He's dehydrated. Look at him. He hasn't eaten or drank anything in what must be days. He's hallucinating."

"W-what." Peter shook his head, "No. You're wrong. That's…that's-"

But Tony groans, trying to crawl on unstable limbs. "Peter. You're alive. How can you be alive? I saw you die. I saw-"

Tony flinches, shirking back until his head hits the wall but he doesn't even wince, his face too contorted in a pain Peter can't see. "Peter stop. Please."

Tony covers his ears with hands, rocking back and forth. "This isn't real. This isn't real."

"Mr. Stark!" Peter bangs against the glass. "Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Please! I'm right here! I'm right here!"

But Tony's deaf to his cries and he keeps rocking. "I know it's my fault. I know. I'm sorry Peter. I'm so sorry. It's my fault. It's my fault. You should hate me. I know you do, I know."

"I'm going to fix this. I'm going to bring you back. You'll get the life you deserve."

"Of course I can do it- I'm- I'm Iron Man I can-" Tony tries to sound confident, his voice pitchy with fake optimism but his face suddenly pales, his head dropping, "No, you're right. If I could have saved you I would've already done it."

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Stop it I'm right here and I don't blame you! I don't blame you! You did your best and you're going to find a way to bring us back! Please! Please!"

But Tony keeps going, staring at his hallucination, pleading, unaware he was breaking the real Peter's heart. "No. No I never wanted this to happen. You know I would have chosen you over me. You know I would have. If I could die to bring you back I'd do it in a heart beat."

Something shatters in Tony's eyes. "Stop it kid. Don't say that- don't-"

"No. I wish I could have saved you. I wish I didn't let you die. No wait- don't!" Tony's hand lunges out but it falls in the air and he grabs it close to himself, trembling.

"Come back please come back. Say whatever you want- hate me if you want just be alive don't- don't do this again." His fingers caress the air like he's running it through Peter's hair, "I know you don't want to go, I know." He mourns, "I would save you if I could- I would."

He moans. "No. No-"

"There's so much dust there's so much dust oh my God. Peter Peter Peter."

"Stop it." Peter sounds strangled. "Stop it. I don't want to see anymore."

Stephen doesn't move, stuck watching Tony fall apart in an illusion of his own making. "I said close it!"

The image of Tony vanishes. Peter feels the tears drip over his cheeks before he registers he's crying. Stephen looks at him gravely. "Do you see now Peter? Do you understand now? Why everything had to play out as it did? As much as it pained me, trading the stone for Tony's life was the only way." He gestured to where the portal once was, "I saw fourteen million different scenarios and the one in which you die in Tony's arms is the one that spurs him on a quest that will unite the Avengers, new and old together, and undo what has been done."

He looks at Peter, his gaze serious and oddly gentle, "For you Peter, Tony will tear apart the universe."

And Peter thinks about the way Tony's voice broke when he told May the truth. Thinks about how he swore he'd avenge Peter's death and bring him back. Not the world's death, not the 50% who died. Him. Peter Parker. The entire world was in disarray and all Tony could see was Peter's face.

Peter was loved more than he knew. He was so loved and he hated himself. How much time had he wasted not appreciating that? Did he appreciate working in the lab side by side with him over countless projects and suits enough? Did he appreciate Tony checking in with a quick phone chat every now and again enough? Did he appreciate every safety feature crammed into his suit as though Tony could make him immortal enough? Tony had done so much for him. He meant so much to him. And Peter never knew the extent of it, never saw past the exterior of holding him off at a distance to know that Tony was more attached than he let on.

He had wasted so much time. He had wasted so many opportunities. He wished he could go back. He wished he could tell him he was grateful for everything Tony had done. That he was the best mentor. That he looked out for him like no one but his aunt and uncle had. That the expression on his face broke his heart and that when he died, Tony's arms wrapped around him were his only comfort.

Instead, Peter suffered in a dimension stained orange watching as his mentor destroyed himself to bring back the son he left behind.