Happy Friday!
Yep, I'm posting a week and a day early because I am happy! I've been plugging away on the final story for weeks/months and getting nowhere. I finally worked out why — it's the wrong story. The plot I was working with would tear apart all the relationships and bonds I spent five stories building. It wouldn't have been a 'nice' read at all. I got lost in the fact it was my plan for so long that I missed that it wasn't right. Thankfully, I had the epiphany and have come up with a plot for the final story which I think will be soooo much better—and it even has the benefit of looking like I had the whole thing planned from the beginning. You all know better ;-)
Chapter Ninety-Three
Natasha pulled around a chair and straddled it, a hard look in her eyes. "It was Josef."
Tony dragged his eyes from Peter's face to her. "What?" he asked dully.
He had been sitting at Peter's bedside since he was rushed into the med bay after they'd arrived back from the apartment, having found that his head injury was worse than the gash they could see. Tony cursed himself for not having him tended to sooner, but the doctors said it would have made little difference to the outcome—the damage was done at the point of injury.
"Friday tracked the cameras in the area. I guess Ross had Beck wipe them, but she dug deep and found them. You can see Josef coming down the street—no disguise—and going into the building. He comes out a few minutes later and…"
"And what?" Bucky asked.
"The bastard looked like he'd won the damn lottery."
Bucky spat a curse.
Tony knew he should be angry about that, but he felt numb. They should have known it was Josef, as that was who had been in the illusion when May was killed and when Peter was killing. But he felt nothing new to the horror and worry he already felt at the death of someone he had loved and the devastation of his son—both versions—which had driven one of them to take the other away, no one knew where, and had been gone for a week, which could be a lifetime to Peter.
"Well?" Natasha snapped.
"Well, what?" Tony asked.
She narrowed her eyes. "What are you going to do about it?"
Tony sighed. "I'm going to sit here until my kid comes back and then I am going to take care of him, because his world has been torn apart, again."
"You need to—"
"Subdural hematoma!" Tony snapped. "You know what that means?"
"Yes," she said, her voice not as harsh now. "Blood collecting under the skull."
"Putting pressure on the brain—Peter's brain!" Tony said. "Which can cause all kind of problems alone, but we don't know which if any of them Peter is going to be living with because he's not here enough for them to tell. There's not brain activity at all—because he's not here! So, I could lose my kid all over again because of this. For all I know, the only conscious action Peter has left in his life is to put on the gauntlet and snap his fingers which could kill him!"
His voice had risen to a shout by the end, and Bucky winced with each word. Natasha, though, stared back at him with a hard look on her face.
"I know all of that," she said. "And I don't believe it. If there was a chance that was going to happen, Peter would be here now, fixing it, rewinding time to save himself and May. He would not let that happen."
Tony turned his gaze back to Peter.
They didn't know that. They didn't know what Peter was capable of doing anymore. If he could save May, he would have done it already, instead of taking himself away as some kind of post-bereavement retreat god-knew-where. All Tony knew as fact was what the doctors told him, and that was what kept him up at night, staring at his son and willing him to come home, to wake up, until exhaustion dragged him into nightmares.
"Think about what Peter would want?" Natasha said. "He'd want to kill Josef for what he did to May."
"No, he wouldn't," Bucky said quietly. "And you know it. Peter wouldn't ever want to kill."
Natasha scoffed. "You think? Because I watched him do it in those memories. I heard what he said—how he lost count of how many times he killed Josef in that illusion, how he couldn't tell us all the ways he did it.
"That's not the same!" Tony growled.
"No, it's not," Natasha said. "But it doesn't mean Peter hasn't changed. He didn't want revenge for himself, but for May… he'd do it in a heartbeat."
Bucky sighed and looked up to meet Natasha's eyes. "Aren't you sick of the killing yet?"
Natasha's eyebrows shot up. "Are you kidding me? You're advocating mercy? You of all people!"
Tony expected Bucky to react with anger, or at least to be defensive, but he sighed and said, in a tone which held as much pain as Tony had seen from him before, "I've killed more times than I can count. I've killed because I had to, because I was ordered to, and because I wanted to. When Nemesis took Pete, I went to DC and positioned myself opposite Ross' window with a sniper rifle. I knew I couldn't kill him, but I could hurt him. I was waiting for the moment Peter was found and then I was going to take the shot. But when the moment came, I realized Peter wouldn't want it. I wanted to cause pain for me, but it's what Peter would want that matters." He took a breath. "If Peter tells me he wants Josef dead when he comes back, I'll track him down and kill him, no question, but I want to hear it from him."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Natasha said incredulously.
"There's a time for killing and a time to let it go," Bucky said. "I'm only just learning that now, but I'm not about to forget it so I can get the revenge Iwant when it's not my choice."
Tony stared at Bucky, so struck by what he was saying that he was torn from his guard of Peter for a moment. He knew Bucky had changed since the programming that made him the Winter Soldier had been removed, though it had been hard to accept in the beginning, and he'd seen the change in him when he and Peter bonded, but there was always an edge to Bucky, the sense that he would slip back into the assassin mindset when triggered, but this…
Peter had done so much more that bonded with Bucky—he had changed who he was and had been for most of his life. Even before Hydra took him, Bucky was a soldier. Now, because of Peter, Bucky was willing to let May's life go unavenged if that was what Peter wanted, even though Tony knew Bucky wanted it more than almost anything—just like he did.
It was a strange feeling to be proud of a grown man, but Tony was proud of Bucky, and he knew Peter would be, too.
Natasha stared between them for a moment, and then she sighed and said, voice measured, "You talk about what Peter would want, but we all know what he would want—he'd want his aunt. But she's dead, and that's on us." She fixed her eyes on Tony. "We let him down. We forgot that it was him we were here to protect. We let him go off with no one to protect him or the people he loves because we wanted to know what happened to him when we failed to take care of him. Our curiosity got May killed."
Neither Tony nor Bucky argued. There was no point. She was right.
Tony had been so caught up in knowing what happened, fixing things for his kid, making him happy again, giving him a future, that he'd not seen the danger in his present. Peter had wanted to go home, so Tony had let him go home. May was dead, Peter was grieving his aunt and Happy the woman he loved, and Tony didn't know if either of them were going to recover from that loss.
And he didn't know whether they had failed altogether for the future they'd all been fighting for—the future Peter sent them back to 2016 to preserve. But allowing himself to dwell on that thought would break him, so, once again, he dismissed it.
"We're the Avengers," Natasha said, with the air of someone playing their last hand. "Peter is an Avenger. Nemesis hurt him and us all, but we can't do anything to them. Josef is human—we can make him pay."
"We can," Bucky said. "But unless Peter tells us that's what he wants us to do, we shouldn't."
"And when's that going to be?" Natasha asked. "Because it's been a week, and we've not even had a glimpse of Mind, let alone Peter. We have no idea where they are or what they're doing."
"They're wherever they need to be," Tony said. "And they'll come back when they need to come back."
"Fine," Natasha snapped. "But I am finding Josef and bringing him back here so we can kill him as soon as Peter tells us to."
Bucky sighed. "Nat—"
She cut a hand through the air. "Don't tell me that's not what he'll want! You aren't the only ones that know Peter, and you're not the only ones that care about him. You think you are because you're the two that are sitting here, but we all care. The only reason you're alone in here is because the rest of us agreed you needed space, Tony, and no one was going to persuade Bucky out."
"I appreciate it," Tony said.
Natasha gave him a curt nod.
"That's not what I was going to say," Bucky said. "I was going to say that you might not be able to find him. Nemesis could have taken them anywhere to hide. We know they took Peter to that damn planet Ross was dumped on. Josef could be there."
"In that case, I'll get Danvers to fly me there to find him," Natasha said. "And I'll take anyone that wants to come with me."
Tony was sure that would be all of them, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Yes, they were all helpless to do anything for Peter now—even the med team were limited to monitoring his oxygen levels and heartbeat, daily brain activity scans, and changing the bags of liquid nutrition they were feeding him with. Peter didn't really need any of them. He wasn't here to notice them by his side.
That didn't mean Tony could bear to leave him longer than it took to go to the bathroom, though.
When Peter came back, he would need all of them, though. He had lost his aunt, his whole world had been turned on its head, and they were his family.
But Tony knew nothing was going to change Natasha's mind, and perhaps everyone else needed to be away, doing something constructive, instead of just waiting.
"Okay," Tony said. "Take whoever you need. We'll alert you as soon as—"
He cut off as a crash came from down the hall.
"Friday," he said wearily. "What's going on?" Though he thought he already knew.
"Mr. Hogan is on his way," Friday replied, confirming Tony's theory.
He sighed and said, "Bucky, stay with Pete."
"Of course," Bucky replied.
Tony got to his feet, muscles stiff after so long in one position, and kissed Peter's cheek then headed out of the room.
Happy was heading towards the med bay, reeling from one side of the corridor to the other. He was wearing the sweats he'd changed into after Pepper had persuaded to take off the clothes stained with May's blood and to shower. Even from a distance. Tony knew he would smell of sweat and vodka, which had been his drink of choice since May had been carried away to the morgue.
"Tony," he slurred when his bleary eyes settled on him. "How's the kid?"
"The same," Tony said. "Let's get you back to your room."
"No!" Happy roared. "You don't get to send me away. He's not just your…" He shook his head, eyes squinting. "He's not just your kid, you hear. He was May's, and that makes him mine."
"Keep your voice down!" Tony snapped.
Happy scoffed. "Worried he'll hear me?" He leaned into Tony's space, filling the air with his sour breath. "He's not here, Tony! He's gone away because you…" he pointed a wavering finger, "and your superhero buddies fucked up and got the woman I love killed!"
Tony felt the words like blows to the chest. Yes, they had failed Peter and May—Natasha had spelled it out for them—but the reminder hurt, and it was unexpected from Happy.
"I'm sorry, Hap," he said. "I really am."
"Too late," Happy slurred. "It's too late for apologies. None of it brings the woman I love back."
"I know what you're going through," Tony said.
"You do?" Happy snorted. "You don't know shit. You never held the body of the woman you love."
"No, I haven't," Tony said, goaded into anger. "But I held my kid as he drifted to ashes in my arms. I know pain. I know grief. I nearly let it destroy me. It took…" He cut off and shook his head. "It took… the world for me to drag myself back from the brink, but I did it. I don't want to see you go through what I did."
"Too damn late," Happy said. "I'm already way past the brink. And now, you're going to get out of my way so I can go see Pete."
"No!" Tony said, placing his hands on Happy's chest. "I'm not letting you near Peter like this. Sober up and clean up and then you can see him."
"You think you can stop me?" Happy raised an eyebrow, and reeled back then swung forwards again, leading with a right hook that slammed into Tony's jaw and made stars dance in front of his eyes.
He felt the displacement of air as Happy swung again, but the blow didn't land. There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, then Peter's voice said, "Stop!" holding more authority that Tony had ever heard from him.
He shook his head and blinked to clear his vision, seeing Peter's rainbow-eyes blazing as Happy stared at him, head weaving as he swayed.
"Pete…" Tony said weakly. "God, I…"
"Maybe he can't stop you, Happy," Peter said harshly. "But I can."
"Peter?" Happy said, voice weak now and holding the grief he felt.
"Yes."
Tony fell on Peter and wrapped his arms around him. His chest heaved with relieved breaths that caught like sobs at finally being able to hold him again. Peter hugged him back, but it was perfunctory, and he pushed him away after.
"Where have you been?" Tony asked.
"With the Stones," Peter said. "Other-me is with May and Ben in the Soul Plane."
Tony sighed as understand dawned. Of course, where Peter needed to be was with the people he had lost. Tony could imagine what a comfort that would be for Peter, and he felt no begrudging now that he was gone as he saw May and Ben could give him everything he needed that Tony couldn't give.
However, Tony felt unease at the way Peter was appeared. He wasn't meeting either Tony or Happy's eyes. He was staring between them, and his face seemed as blank as it had been when he was catatonic. It wasn't a lack of awareness that made him look like this, though—it was that he was hiding everything he was thinking and feeling behind a neutral mask. Tony had ever seen him like this, and it scared him.
"Pete… Come sit down…"
"In a minute," Peter said calmly. "I need to talk to Happy first."
"Are you bringing her back?" Happy asked, weaving back and forth with the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream.
"I can't," Peter said, voice even but eyes pained. "Her death is not connected to the Infinity Stones, and it's locked in my timeline now."
"She…" Happy's lips trembled. "She's not coming back?"
Peter shook his head, and though his face remained a mask, a tear crept down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he said. "And she is, too. She wanted you to know she would have if she could."
"She… she… she would?" Happy asked.
Peter nodded. "She would but she can't."
Happy started to cry, bringing a shaking hand to his face to hide the tears that poured down his cheeks, but nothing could hide the wracking sobs which were slipping from him.
"Happy," Peter said, voice a little softer now. "We'd like you to arrange May's funeral. I'm not going to be in any position to when I'm back, and he will be soon, and it's not going to be his goodbye—he gets to say his goodbye in person. I talked about it to her, and she agrees it should be you. There's paperwork you need in the bookshelf in the apartment."
Tony swallowed hard as he remembered the last time he'd heard those words and the horror that followed.
"I can do that," Happy said, stifling his sobs and nodded. "Yeah, that I can do for her."
"Thank you," Peter said. "Go get some sleep, sober up, and then you can get to work."
"I…" Happy cleared his throat. "I can do that, kid, no problem."
Peter allowed him a small smile which remained as Happy turned and staggered back along the corridor, hopefully heading to his bed.
When Happy was gone, Peter said, "I need to talk to you. Now."
Dread curdled in Tony's gut, and he said, "We can't. I've got to stay with you. Bucky's there now, and I've got to get back."
"Tony," Peter sighed, "that's not me—it's just a shell. I am— he is where he needs to be right now. You don't have to stand guard. And I need to talk to you, Bucky, Steve, and Nat."
Tony shook his head in unspoken negation of what his rational mind was telling him. He didn't want to talk to Peter. He loved him more than he loved life itself, but he was terrified of what he was going to say if he let him talk. So, he wouldn't let him talk. He would go back to the Peter that couldn't break his heart with his words.
"Sorry, Pete," he said. "Not right now."
He patted Peter on the shoulder and hurried back into the med bay. Bucky was on his feet, face stricken and pale, and Tony knew he had heard every word that had passed in the hall.
"Tony," he said. "I think we need…" He stopped, lip trembling.
"No, all I need is my kid," Tony said, planting himself back in his chair and taking Peter's hand in his and stroking a thumb over his knuckles. "We're good."
They were good. Whatever Peter felt he needed to say could wait. Tony was not ready to hear it, so he wouldn't. He would take care of the version of his son in a hospital bed and wait for him to come home, to wake up, so he could love him better.
Steve was sitting outside with Natasha, listening as she vented her anger at Tony and Bucky's reaction to what she wanted to do.
Steve was torn. He wanted to help find Josef, to kill him for what he did to May, but he didn't know if Peter would want it. And it was what Peter wanted that mattered in this. Steve had to put aside his wants and needs and do what was right for Peter. It seemed Tony and Bucky were agreed on this, which pleased him, but it hadn't sated Natasha's need for violence.
The door opened behind them, and Steve turned to see Mind coming out. He looked different from usual. They had seen him angry, pragmatic, annoyed, worried, even elated, but he had never looked like this before, and it chilled Steve's blood.
"What?" Natasha asked, her hostile tone, Steve knew, hiding the same fear he felt.
"Peter is here. I need you to come with me."
"Which Peter?" Natasha asked.
"The Peter to whom I belong and to whom you need to listen."
A new shiver of fear rippled down Steve's spine, creating gooseflesh on his arms. "Come on, Nat, we need to go," he said, though what he wanted to do was run and hide.
Mind led the way, not through the common room which Steve and Natasha had left, where everyone else was gathered, but through the main entrance to the compound, which was used by Stark Industries staff and visitors, not Avengers.
The fact Mind apparently wanted to keep this conversation private, at least private from the others, made Steve feel even worse. He noticed they were being led towards the med bay, where Tony and Bucky were standing guard over Peter, and the knowledge that Mind was taking them to the other two of them who had traveled back to 2016 with a mission to complete didn't pass him by.
But he forced that thought away out of fear and concentrated on the fact they were about to see Peter again, to see how he was coping and to hear news of the younger version, perhaps hear where he was now.
Mind took the lead into Peter's room, and Steve followed him, finding Bucky on his feet, face haunted and eyes following Mind's entrance, Tony, who was staring fixedly at the face of the boy on the bed, and the rainbow-eyed Peter standing to the side with his face a neutral mask which Steve had never seen on him before.
"Queens," he said as soon as he saw him. "How are you?"
"He's with May and Ben in the Soul Plane," Peter replied. "He's healing."
That was information Steve had wanted, however it wasn't the question he had asked; he wanted to know how this version of Peter was and what had happened to make him look as he did—even though he had a feeling the news was going to break them all.
However, he also knew he had to face it head-on and find a solution.
Steve moved to stand beside Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he noticed was shaking, and Natasha went to stand near Tony.
Mind took his place beside Peter and said, "Would you like me to do it?"
Peter shook his head. "No, but thanks. I've got it." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you here. I shouldn't have put the future on your shoulders."
"Not now, Pete," Tony said, not looking at him. "Let's just get you home and healed first."
Peter glanced at him and then looked away, his eyes on the version of himself on the bed.
"Peter… Shall I?" Mind prompted.
"I've got it." Peter cleared his throat, and Steve noticed that, though his face was still a mask, his eyes were roiling with emotion among the colors. "I'm not Worthy. I'm not going to be Worthy. Nemesis won."
Bucky made a sound of pain and swayed, and Steve wrapped his arm around his back to steady him. Natasha put a hand over her mouth, her eyes wet, but Tony didn't make a sound or movement—his attention was fixed on the younger Peter.
Peter cleared his throat again and said, "I… uh… You can go home now. It's over."
"No, it's not," Tony said, enunciating every word carefully but still not looking up. "It's not over until we win."
"You…" Peter shook his head. "We can't win, Tony. It's too late."
"No!" Tony bellowed, looking at him with fiery eyes. "It's not too late. You sent me back to save you, and I am going to, understand? We're not stopping now because it's looking bad. We've got six months left to fix it."
Peter's mask faltered, revealing a scared kid, and Steve crossed the room to him. But before he could make a move to comfort him, Mind placed his arm around Peter's shoulders and pulled him close. Steve knew on an intellectual level that Mind cared about Peter, that he and the other Stones loved him in their way—were devoted to him—he had never seen Mind's softness like this. It brought home the reality of what Peter was saying.
They had failed.
Peter was going to die.
Tears sprang to his eyes, and he had to steady himself by gripping the foot of bed. He'd suffered losses in his life, and he'd lost battles he was committed to winning, but he had never felt this depth of failure before. He had never felt so utterly defeated and fearful of the result.
"You can't," Peter said, tears in his voice. "Losing May was just too much for me. I could have saved her—he could—but he wasn't fast enough and strong enough. All those murders in the illusion weren't enough to make him win because, in the illusion, Josef wanted to me to kill him. When it happened for real, he wanted to kill May. It was too much too fast."
Bucky crossed the room, tears streaming down his cheeks and his eyes a storm of pain, and he pulled Peter away from Mind and into his arms. Peter sagged against him and began to sob. Bucky's metal fingers cradled the back of Peter's head, fingers tangling in his long hair.
"I'm sorry," Peter sobbed. "I shouldn't have sent you. You couldn't have won against Nemesis, and I should have known that."
Steve moved forward and wrapped his arms around Bucky and Peter both, holding onto the two people he loved most in the world. "I'm sorry," he said, voice choked. "We're so sorry, Queens."
"Stop!" Tony said, voice harsh. "You're acting like it's over, and it's not over."
Peter shifted and Steve and Bucky released him and stepped back.
Tony was crying, tears slipping down his cheeks, but he made no sounds. He looked defiant, angry, and yet Steve didn't think he had ever been more broken in his life.
Peter crossed the room on shaking legs and placed his hand on Tony's cheek, looking older somehow, as thought he was the father and Tony the son.
"It's too late," Peter said. "But it's okay."
"Okay?" Natasha asked, voice cracking. "How the hell is it going to be okay, Peter?"
Peter wiped away his tears and took a deep breath through his nose. When he spoke, he had the air of a man making a binding promise. "The Stones say there's something they can do about Nemesis—that even though I'm not there, they won't let her hurt anyone."
"We don't care about Nemesis, bud," Bucky said. "We care about you."
"It's too late for me," Peter said. "But I can send you back to a safe future thanks to them."
Despite his devastation, Steve was glad the Stones were still hiding the truth of Nemesis' freedom from Peter. If Peter died, Ego would remain trapped, and Nemesis would never be created. He was glad, even though he felt like the world was ending, that Peter didn't have the torment of knowing what he'd unleased.
"Nat," Peter said, voice shaking again. "I'm sorry, but I can't save you."
Tears filled Natasha's eyes and she crossed the space between them in two long strides and wrapped her arms around him. "No," she soothed. "I don't care about that. I was happy where I was, and you know that. I'm just sorry we failed you so badly."
"You didn't," Peter said, his voice constricted by her hold. "You had no chance. I was stupid to think we could win."
"You weren't," Tony said. "We should have won."
It was the first time he'd shown acceptance of what had happened, and somehow it was more upsetting that seeing Peter's tears. Perhaps because they knew Peter would be with May and Ben in the Soul Plane when he died, it didn't seem as awful a fate as theirs—life without him—and most especially Tony's.
He was going to lose his son.
Natasha released Peter and stepped back, wiping at the tears streaming down her face. Peter moved towards Tony, who was looking at the version of his son on the bed still, and placed a hand on Tony's shaking shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.
Tony's eyes moved to meet Peter's rainbow ones, and Steve saw the mirror of pain in both. Peter's pain was at causing his father this pain and Tony's was for failing his son.
And Steve knew that Tony at least was never going to recover from this.
Tony rose to his feet and took Peter in his arms. Peter buried his face in Tony's neck, and the pair of them began to heave with sobs.
Hand over his face, tears slipping down his cheeks, Bucky gestured to Steve and Natasha to follow him out of the room.
As loath as he was to leave Peter like this, Steve knew he needed to be alone with his father now. And the others needed to hear the news. Though Peter had sent him, Tony, Bucky, and Natasha back to change his future, to save him, it was the mission of them all that had been failed, and they needed to know.
With the sounds of Tony's and Peter's pain following him, Steve prepared himself to break more hearts with this news.
The news they had failed.
So… I'm sorry. Stick with me, though. The story isn't over.
Until next time…
Jadey xxx