Happy Wednesday!
I'm putting up a mid-week chapter as a treat for myself as I'm finally back in the writing groove, all the hard work for the awards are over so now I get to sit back and enjoy watching the votes come in before I have to actually count them and do more work. Also, I want to get the Homecoming events over with because that's when the real storytelling can return.
Chapter Thirty
September 9th
Steve stood at the bank of The Hudson, in the place Tony had directed him to, and watched the sky.
Tony had wanted to come himself, but they'd argued against it. They all knew he wouldn't be able to keep his distance from Peter if he was there. It was going to be hard enough for Steve to do it. He was only there in case of an emergency.
They had followed events through Friday, seeing Peter move along the path that Mind insisted he needed to travel alone. When his plan to visit a school friend's party had been aborted, Steve had left the tower and come to the river where he would be able to see what was happening.
Tony was back at the tower still, working his way through a six-pack of beer with Pepper at his side, and he had the suit he would send to Peter—if it was required—primed and ready.
Steve had left them all in a state of high anticipation. Mind had been with them, Vision absent again, and he'd passed on Peter's encouraging words with a dose of his own frustration, though his fury seemed to be spent now.
From what Mind said, Peter was more confident things would pass as they should now. He said he had divined a different message from Tony's actions than before—that he thought he was being tested. Tony didn't like that idea but accepted it was the thing that would best lead to the outcome they needed to save Peter's life.
Steve heard a strange thrumming sound approaching, and his keen eyes searched the sky for a sign of the source. It came a moment later, the strangest sight. It was a person in a wingsuit, which Steve had not been able to imagine when Tony told them about it. Peter was hanging from the claws underneath. Steve felt a thrill of horror at the sight, imagining Peter's fear as he hung there, and then he heard a faint beeping and a parachute deployed from the back of Peter's suit.
The wind resistance made the man in the wingsuit—Tony said he called himself The Vulture—drop Peter, too fast, the parachute tangling around him. Peter dropped into the river with a splash.
Steve wanted to go out to him, but he heard the sound of the thrusters of Tony's deployed suit already coming, and he knew that it would be faster to get to Peter than him swimming. He watched as the suit dived into the water, and then it appeared again, Peter cradled in its arms, limp and terrifying.
The suit carried Peter to Steve and set him down more roughly than Steve expected. Peter's head fell to the side, limp with unconsciousness, and Tony's rough voice said, through the suit, "He's not breathing, Steve!"
Steve sucked in a horrified breath and dropped to his knees beside Peter. His heart was hammering in his chest, and his hands shook. With Tony's pleas and commands as a soundtrack that sounded distant from him, he tore off Peter's mask and pressed his fingers to his throat.
He could feel a rapid heartbeat beneath, but he knew that would not last unless he could empty Peter's lungs of water. He hauled Peter up, supporting him like a newborn baby, and thumped him on the back.
"Come on, Queens," he urged. "Cough it up."
"It's not enough, Steve!" Tony said, mechanical voice raised. "Save him!"
"I am!" Steve said curtly, laying Peter down again, tilting back his head, and blowing two breaths into his lungs, feeling his icy lips under his own warm ones,
Peter's chest rose, and then he gave a cough, and water spilled from his lips. Steve turned him on his side and patted his back as Peter coughed up the water, choking and rasping.
"I've got him; he's okay," he chanted, speaking both to himself and Tony.
"He's okay," Tony said. "Yes, he's okay."
Steve knew he was speaking to himself, trying to calm down, and Steve watched as Peter retched then collapsed back. His eyes were closed, and his chest was heaving, but Steve knew he would rouse soon.
He had to leave.
Mind had made it clear that any interference from them had to come without Peter knowing; he could not even speak to Tony through the suit as he had last time.
Hating himself, his legs heavy with reluctance, Steve patted Peter's cheek, whispered a reassurance, and then stood and slipped away into the shadows to watch.
He heard Tony give a small moan, and then the suit flew away. For a full minute, a minute that made Steve fear damage from being deprived of oxygen, Peter laid on the ground and just breathed, and then his eyes opened, and he sat up.
"What happened, Karen," he said weakly and then seemed to realize his mask was missing. He looked puzzled, pulled it on again, and asked again, "What happened?"
Steve heard the reply within the suit and Peter's ragged breathing as he massaged his chest. "Your parachute tangled, and you fell into The Hudson. Luckily, one of Mr. Stark's suits was deployed to rescue you."
"Mr. Stark saved me?" Peter said weakly. "Where is he now?"
"In India," she reported.
"He didn't say anything?"
"He sent no message that I am aware of. And I would be aware."
Peter coughed again and rubbed a shaking hand over his chest. "The test. Right. God, I'm cold."
"Mr. Stark programmed your suit with a heater. Would you like me to engage it?"
"Yeah, definitely," Peter said.
Steam floated from Peter's suit, and he gave a small moan of appreciation.
Steve knew he had seen enough, risked enough, so, with Peter's conversation with Karen as a backdrop, he slipped away on silent feet, reached the place he'd stowed his motorbike, and climbed on.
With a heavy heart and dreading what he knew would be Tony's extreme distress when he returned, he kicked the engine to life and drove away.
"You drowned!" Ned squawked.
"Not really," Peter said, sitting on the edge of his bed and holding the phone away from his ear a moment to towel at his hair. "I was breathing and everything. I think I just swallowed some water because I was coughing and my chest was sore. Anyway, that's not the point. This guy was… He could fly, Ned!"
"Dude, that's crazy. What is your life even? You could have died!"
"No, I couldn't. One of Mr. Stark's suits deployed automatically. If I'd nearly died, he would have done something, talked to me, or sent a message. I mean, he can track what happens in the suit with Friday and Karen, so he wasn't worried."
"Peter, this is big," Ned said. "Like real superhero stuff."
"I know," Peter said, rubbing his face with the towel. "But I can do it. I didn't think I could, but Mr. Stark is trusting me, and Karen says he's got faith in me."
"Wow. Tony Stark is relying on you to stop a supervillain."
"He is," Peter said with a small smile. "He'd know if I couldn't do it, right? I mean, he's the expert."
"I know, yeah, but wow."
Peter laughed. "Yeah, wow. I'm going to work it out, though. I've got Karen, who's a genius, I've got this suit, and I've got one of the weapons."
Ned's heavy breath crackled the line. "This is huge. I thought Spider-Man was big, and it is, but this is so big. I can help, right? I'm your Man in the Chair, after all."
"You are, and you can," Peter said, knowing Ned's enthusiasm was building now, as was his.
"Totally worth missing a party for," Ned went on. "Which is, yeah, good, since it ended up being a nightmare. My hat didn't work, and Flash was being an asshole."
"Yeah, you told me," Peter said, smile fading as he remembered Ned reporting the chant the crowd had eagerly taken up under Flash's instruction. "I think my party days are over until college." He crossed to the desk and poked at the weapon he'd collected after investigating the scene. "I'm going to bring this weapon thing to school tomorrow so we can examine it."
"Examining a weapon," Ned whispered. "Yeah. Real superhero stuff. We should get some sleep, so we're on top of our game tomorrow—for the mission, you know."
Peter chuckled. "We should. I'll see you tomorrow, Ned."
"See ya."
The call cut and Peter threw the towel into the corner. He should sleep, as he was exhausted—almost, or kinda, drowning had tired him out. He was eager for the morning, too. He had a lead on the villain now with what he'd found, and he was going to work it out.
He felt more ready now. He was going to pass this test, prove to Tony that he could do what needed to be done, and fix it. This was Spider-Man's first villain that wasn't a mugger, robber, or drug dealer, and he was starting to enjoy it.
He wanted to make Tony proud.
Tony ripped himself from the nightmare with a cry and clawing his hand at his throat, fingernails gouging the skin.
"Tony?" Pepper said drowsily beside him. "What's wrong?"
Tony couldn't answer, his breaths were gasping and painful, and he merely shook his head.
The bed shifted beneath him, and Pepper caught his clawing hand. "No, honey," she said. "Don't do that. You're hurting yourself."
"Peter," he gasped.
"He's okay," she whispered. "He's fine. Steve saved him."
Tony's head whipped from side to side. "I almost lost him," he rasped.
Pepper took his hand and placed it on her chest. "Breathe with me," she said, making her breaths slow and exaggerated. "Come on. In and out. Nice and easy."
Tony tried to obey, his breaths slowing with a supreme effort, but his mind was still reeling.
He had dreamed of Peter again, seeing Steve fighting to clear his lungs of water, but in the dream, it hadn't worked.
He'd watched, helpless though the suit, as Steve did CPR, begging Peter to come back in a rough voice between each breath forced into his unmoving lungs. He'd seen the moment Steve realized it was hopeless, and at the same time, Tony's lungs had filled, too. He'd felt himself drowning in horror, in pain, and only supreme effort and fear had enabled himself to rip free of it.
"That's it," Pepper said softly. "That's good."
His breaths were coming easier now, though they still burned his lungs as if it had been him that drowned.
He bowed his head and whispered, "I could have lost him."
"You couldn't," she said. "He's in 2023, remember; you told me."
"I saw him die," he said. "Steve couldn't save him."
"It was a dream." Her hand cupped his cheek, and her thumb rubbed soothing circles. "Just a dream. He's fine now."
Tony nodded, the reality of her words sinking in and soothing him, and he felt some of the pain leeching away.
"I don't know how to do this," he said.
"You're already doing it. You know it's what needs to happen; you told me. Peter knows it, the Peter that loves you in 2023, and he's trusting you to see it through. This is the only way to save his life."
It was on the tip of his tongue to say Peter was asking too much, but he bit down on the words until he tasted blood.
Peter was asking a lot, but it was to save his life, and Tony would do whatever it took to do that. He hated it, though. The days that stretched between him and the day the plane came down tortured him. He wanted to be there for him now, to support him, but he couldn't.
It was only overwhelming love for his son and Mind's warnings that kept him on track. Peter would not ask him for more than he could give, and he'd asked for this, which meant he knew Tony could do it.
Even though he hated it.
"Do you think you can sleep some more?" Pepper asked.
"No, definitely not," Tony said without hesitation.
Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant pain.
"Then we'll get up now," she said. "We can watch a movie, or just sit together, or you can tell me more about the Peter you know best."
Tony nodded. He liked the idea of that. He wanted to share all of Peter with her, the present and future, and he thought it would be soothing to lose himself in memories of his son for a while instead of dwelling on how he could have lost him before Peter ever had a chance to love him in return.
So… Another step down the path done. This is really tough to write, and I'm sure it's not much fun to read. We've got a big diversion from canon coming in the next chapter, which is, again, angsty. Sorry.
Until next time…
Jadey xxx