Everything around him was bright, white light. As far as he could see. There was nothing else. He spun around but the sight didn't change. Even beneath his feet was the same light. He wasn't standing on anything he could see. What the?

Where was he? How had he gotten here? He wracked his brain to try to remember. He'd just been on the Quinjet and people had been yelling at him to stay awake, but he hadn't been able to. He'd given in and fallen asleep. So, maybe this was a dream? If it was, it sure was a weird one.

"Hello?" He called out. "Is anyone there?"

No one answered.

"Hello?" He called out louder and squinted. In the distance he thought he saw indistinct shapes moving towards him. But it was hard to be sure because everything was so bright. He tried to shield his eyes by holding a hand over his eyebrows, but it didn't help. Of course it didn't. There was no sun here. The light came from everywhere.

The shapes slowly grew larger until he could make out that there were four of them, and they looked like the figures of people. Weird.

He waited patiently until one of them was finally close enough for Peter to distinguish its features. The other figures were still a little ways behind. The front one was a man. He was tall and had dark chestnut hair and brown eyes. He looked oddly familiar and Peter got a warm rush when he smiled at him.

"Hi Peter." The man said once he stopped in front of him, a couple feet away.

Peter peered up at him and tried to figure out how he knew him. Why butterflies seemed to fill his chest. His identity struck Peter like a bolt of lightning.

"Dad." He choked out in surprise.

"It's been a long time son." Richard Parker said as he opened his arms.

"Dad!" Peter closed the remaining distance between them and crashed into his father's arms.

"I missed you dad. I missed you so much." He cried as he clutched him.

"I missed you too." His dad said back. "And I am so so proud of you."

He felt his dad kiss the top of his head and it flooded him with the same feeling of love as when Tony did it. Peter closed his eyes and held on tight as he tried to just enjoy the feeling of being in his dad's arms. He didn't even care if it was all a dream. If it was, it was an amazing one.

"We're all proud of you sweetheart." A new but familiar voice said from next to his dad. Peter looked over and gasped.

"Mom!" He cried and flung himself at her.

Mary Parker caught him with a melodic laugh and hugged him tight.

"Oh I love you baby." She said into his hair. "I've missed you. I'm so sorry we had to leave you."

"I've missed you too. And I love you too. Both of you. So much." He said, still kind of crying, but they were tears of happiness.

When he finally managed to pull away, he drank in the sight of his parents standing in front of him. His mom's auburn hair was styled just like he remembered, a blunt shoulder cut with bangs. She was real. They were both real. He was practically bursting he was so happy. He felt like he was in…

"Is this heaven? Am I dead?" Peter asked suddenly, eyes widening. Oh no. Had he died?

"No honey. This place is more of an in-between." His mom answered. "Somewhere we can visit but we can't stay."

"So how are you here? How-how am I here?" Peter frowned.

"Let's not talk about that right now. It's not important. Let's just enjoy the time we have together." His dad said and then glanced behind him. "And look who else is here to see you."

Another man walked forward and Peter's jaw dropped when he saw who it was.

"Ben!" He flew into his uncle's arms and the man caught him with a grunt and a hearty chuckle. Ben twirled the two of them around like he used to do when Peter was a little kid.

"Hey there sport." Ben said as he set him back down.

"Ben." Peter said his name again and his voice cracked as he looked up at him with sad eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"No now none of that." Ben smiled down at him, not an ounce of anger on his face. Nothing like Peter's numerous dark imagings of how this moment would go. "It wasn't your fault, so you need to stop beating yourself up about it."

"I don't know if I can." Peter admitted.

"Try." Ben insisted. "For me. Please."

"Ok." Peter whispered. In that moment he would've agreed to any request Ben made. "I'll try."

"That's my boy." His uncle said warmly and gave him another squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you too." Peter mumbled and burrowed his face into his chest. He still smelled just like Peter remembered.

"What about me?" Another person asked. Peter recognized the voice instantly.

"May!" He called out as he whirled around and threw his arms around her.

"Hi honey."

"May I'm—"

"If you say sorry I'm going to scream." May interrupted him.

"But—"

"No, listen sweetie. Ben's right. You need to stop torturing yourself." May insisted as she ran a loving hand down his cheek. "We don't blame you for anything. None of it was your fault. We all love you, and we just want you to be happy."

"But how can I be happy when you're gone?" Peter choked up as he asked.

"It'll get better honey."

Peter shook his head.

"It will." May said more firmly. "You just need to give it time."

"But I don't want to forget you."

"You won't honey." May said confidently before leaning forward to kiss his forehead. When she straightened back up, she used her thumb to rub off the lipstick she'd left there.

Suddenly he felt an odd tugging sensation from behind him. He turned to look but nothing was there.

"It's time to make a choice Peter." His dad said.

"A choice?" He didn't understand.

"You can't stay here, like Mary said." His father explained. "You can go back…or move on."

"You mean…die?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

"If I move on, do I get to stay with you?" He asked.

His father nodded.

"But I could go back and live?"

His father nodded again.

"What should I do?" He asked as he looked to his dad with a beseeching look for guidance. He was so confused. He needed any wisdom his dad could impart.

"We're not allowed to influence your decision." His dad answered solemnly. "You alone have to decide."

Peter chewed on his lip. If he stayed, he'd get to be with his family. His parents. May and Ben.

But what about Tony? He'd have to leave him behind. And all the Avengers that had somehow turned into a different kind of family for him. And Ned. And Spiderman. And any future he had.

It seemed like an impossible choice.

The tugging grew more insistent.

"You need to decide." Richard said with barely discernible anxiety.

"I-I—" He glanced behind him again even though there was nothing there to see. No one to see. He knew what he was looking for. Who he was looking for. And even though he felt guilty, he knew what his decision would be.

"I love all of you…but I can't stay." He said miserably and hung his head. "I need to go back."

When he looked up again, he expected to see sadness or hurt on his family's faces. But all he saw was joy.

"Good choice son." His dad said with a wide smile as he stepped forward.

"You're-you're not mad?"

"No." His dad kept smiling. "We want you to go back and live a long, happy life. And when you come back, after you're old and grey, we'll be here, waiting for you."

Peter sniffled and gave them all a sad smile. "I love you all so much. I miss you all the time."

"We know baby." May said as she smiled back.

"We miss you too." Ben said.

"But this is the right choice sweetheart. We want you to live your life." His mom said.

None of them seemed upset.

The tugging grew almost painful.

"It's time to get you back to your other dad." His father said with his own soft smile.

Peter looked up at him with wide, startled eyes.

"What?" Richard chuckled. "You thought I'd be upset? I'm not. I know how to share. And I want you to have someone. We're both your father, Peter."

"I love you dad." Peter said earnestly, through wet eyes.

"I know. I love you too, but it's time to go now." His father told him and placed his hands on Peter's shoulders.

"Be happy." His dad decreed with finality, almost like a blessing, and then he gripped his shoulders and shoved.

Peter fell backward, expecting to hit the ground, but he fell through it instead. And then he kept falling, falling, falling. But for some reason he wasn't afraid. It was oddly peaceful.

The light grew further and further away and inky black darkness started to fill more and more of his vision. Finally, only a tiny speck of light remained, until even that winked away, and an instant later, Peter's back slammed into something.

He gasped and choked. It felt like the worst case of getting the wind knocked out of him ever. He couldn't breathe. It was almost like he'd forgotten how to and was only now remembering. He started coughing. His chest hurt. Tiny bits of information filtered in, one small piece at a time.

It was loud.

There were voices.

"I think he's coming around." He heard someone say.

Someone was crying. Several someones were saying his name over and over.

"Peter. Peter."

"Wake up kid."

"Open your eyes Peter."

"Wake up for me. Please baby. Open your eyes." Peter knew that voice. He leaned instinctively toward it.

"Come on kiddo. Let me see those bambi eyes." The voice coaxed.

Eyes. He had eyes. And he knew how to open them, right? He could do that for the nice voice. He tried to open them and they flickered. A stab of light made it through the small crack in his eyelids. It was bright. Like it'd been…somewhere else? Had he just been somewhere else? Then how'd he get here? Where was he now? Everything seemed all jumbled up and confusing.

"That's it. Good job." The voice was close, like it was only inches from his face.

He had a face. He could feel someone's hand cupping his cheek like May had done in…in the other place? In the dream?

Had he been dreaming?

He had a vague recollection of the dream and he desperately tried to hold onto it. To keep it in his memory. Because he had the sense that somehow it was important. Oh right. In the other place… In the dream? His parents had been there. And so had May and Ben. And they'd told them they loved him and they'd wanted him to be happy. And then his dad had sent him back to…to his other dad. Tony.

"Come on baby. Try again. Open your eyes for me." He recognized the voice trying to wake him up as Tony's. And he wanted to see him.

He managed to open his eyes again, squinting at the light but able to keep them from instinctively closing this time. Tony's face leaned closer over him, blocking out some of the brightness. Peter frowned. His dad was crying.

"Dad." He managed to get out with a soft exhale, word muffled by the oxygen mask over his mouth.

"Shh. Don't-don't try to talk." His dad soothed with a watery smile and started brushing his hair back. "Just…just keep breathing."

That seemed like a weird request but simple enough, so he listened and took a few short breaths. But he had to tell his dad about his dream before he forgot. As weak as he felt, he was still able to flop a hand up and dislodge the mask enough to talk.

"I had…the weirdest dream." He mumbled.

His dad shushed him and replaced the mask, and then grabbed his hand to hold in his own. "Leave that kiddo."

But he needed to get the words out.

"I saw…" He paused to take another couple breaths and to try to get enough energy to finish. God he was tired. "I saw…my parents."

Tony's eyes widened.

"And," He paused to lick his lips, "May and Ben."

Tony stared down at him with a mildly freaked out expression, some mixture of shock and terror.

"They told me…" He trailed off. Talking suddenly seemed like too much effort. He was so exhausted. And dizzy.

"Shh it's ok. You can tell me later. For now, just breathe. And stay awake." Tony insisted.

"Ok." He whispered. "Just don't…let me forget…"

"I won't." His dad promised.

"How much blood is in so far Sam?" Peter heard Bruce ask from beside him.

"Two units." Sam answered by his feet.

"Keep going. Push another one in." Bruce said.

"That's the last one on board." Sam sounded worried.

"That's fine. We'll be at the compound soon. And he's getting extra volume from the saline running through the IV." Bruce reassured and then fiddled with the tubing attached to Peter's right elbow.

"Hey Peter, you back with us?" Bruce asked him when he noticed his eyes on him.

Peter hummed in response. Sort of. He still wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"You gave us quite a scare." Bruce continued.

Peter didn't know what he was talking about so he just blinked at him, brow furrowed slightly.

"Try to stay awake ok?" Bruce requested and Peter could see the tightness around his eyes that meant he was worried.

Peter gave him a small jerky nod, displacing the oxygen mask slightly. His dad was quick to re-adjust it on his face, which brought Peter's attention back to him. His dad wasn't crying anymore but his eyes were still bloodshot and misty.

"I love you buddy." His dad said and gave him another shaky smile and then kissed the back of Peter's hand within his grasp.

All the 'I love you's' from the dream echoed in his mind.

"Love you too." He managed to get out the faint words and gave his dad a tired half smile.

Tony kept staring avidly down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. It was kind of nice but also a little overwhelming.

And he was still so tired.

His eyes slid closed again.

Until he heard his dad frantically calling for him to wake up and open his eyes.

The terror apparent in his dad's voice forced him to listen even though all he wanted to do was rest.

"Stay awake." Tony told him when they made eye contact again. "Eyes on me. Ok?"

Tony gave his hand a hard squeeze. Peter managed a small nod. His dad looked terrified, so he'd do his best.

And he did.

He stayed awake, in a state where he didn't try to talk but just kept blinking wearily up at his dad until they got him to the compound and into the Medbay.

In the Medbay there were more people and more lights. He could make out words here and there but he couldn't make sense of them. Things like femoral vein, hypovolemic shock, arrest, ROSC, three units. His dad stayed close to his side even as all the medical personnel worked around him.

At some point his bed started moving again and his dad walked beside it, still refusing to leave him even though Peter could tell it was annoying some of the medical people. They rolled him into another room. It was even brighter and colder. But he didn't get nervous until the medical staff started moving him from his bed onto a cold metal table. That perked him up slightly. At the same time he noticed he was clad only in his boxers. When had that happened?

Why was he here? Where was here? What were they going to do to him?

"Dad?" He called out weakly in trepidation. He'd lost sight of him when he'd been moved. He knew it was stupid to be scared. He was at the compound. His dad wouldn't let anything happen to him. He was safe. But he was also so exhausted the processing of his thoughts was muddled.

"I'm right here buddy." His dad reassured, coming back to his side and grabbing his hand again once he was settled on the metal table. "It's ok. They're going to fix your leg up and then you'll be back somewhere nice and comfortable soon. Don't worry. I'll be here until you fall asleep and I'll be there when you wake up, ok?"

Peter nodded and gripped his dad's hand a little tighter.

"We're going to give you a little something to relax you, ok Peter?" An unfamiliar voice said from behind his head. "Can you start counting backward from 100 for me?"

Peter licked his dry lips and stared into his dad's eyes as he started counting, "100…99…98…97…."

A wave of absolute exhaustion washed over him and everything started getting fuzzy. What number had he been on? Had he even been counting out loud or just in his head? He couldn't remember, so he guessed.

"…95…"

His eyes flickered closed and his grip on his dad's hand loosened. His mouth slackened and he couldn't make it form any more words. He never made it to 94.