Peter Parker stepped into the portal and…right back into Dr. Strange's living room?
The boy stepped back into the living room of the Sanctum, his mind on fire. Doctor Strange's body no longer faced Peter. His hands were on his phone, ready to call someone. Peter could only assume he was contacting the famed Tony Stark.
"What the hell?" Peter cursed loudly. The Doctor turned around abruptly, his eyes wide. He suddenly slammed the phone shut, and it fell from his hands to the ground with a loud clatter.
He couldn't be back here. Nothing was right. Dr. Strange was supposed to send him to Thor. Why wasn't he with Thor? Peter needed to be with the god of thunder to change events. He needed to get the stone and protect it. He could not still, under any circumstances, be back on earth.
"Why am I back here?" He almost shouted.
"I don't…I-I d-don't know, Peter." The Doctor said. The man's face was pale and his mouth agape. It was clear to see that the Doctor was just as surprised as Peter was. Maybe, even more so. "Kid, I don't know what happened. Something like this has never happened in the past." The Doctor said. Peter wasn't certain if he was talking to him or himself.
Peter wasn't listening to him. He started to pace throughout the prominent New York City Mansion without many purposes. His thoughts were flying thousands of miles a second without much cohesive thought. His thoughts were jumbled, and they jumped from one grim scenario to the next.
"Kid, calm down." Dr. Strange told him.
"Please don't tell me to calm down. How am I supposed to calm down?" He continued to pace throughout the room.
The Doctor's mind was spinning just as frantically as the teenagers. He felt like he was on a Ferris wheel that spun faster and faster with each turn. Stephen didn't know how to support the troubled child in his living room. He was pacing so quickly; he thought the kids' feet might burn through the floor.
He had never seen someone look so panicked in all of the time he had been alive. Considerable anxiety seemed to flow off of the boy in drowning waves. Peter picked at his hands and fiddled with a small rubber band on his wrist. His face was pale, and droplets of sweat were leaking from his forehead.
"Maybe this is a good thing." The Doctor genuinely tried to reassure him. "Did you have a plan for when you found them? Are you even sure they were there?"
The kid's face lit up in pained surprise. "I-I?"
Peter's entire world stopped.
Dr. Strange was right as much as Peter hated to admit it. His memory of the past events wasn't as good as they were supposed to be. He wasn't sure what time or place Thor, and Loki ended up together. The only thing he knew was that sometime before Thanos took over, Loki died, and Thanos stole the stone from them. Maybe it was a godsend that he didn't get through the portal. What would Peter have done when he got there? There wasn't a single plan in his mind to carry out when he got there.
Peter still had two years until Thanos ruthlessly destroyed half of the universe. Maybe, he was wrong, and leaving earth would only worsen things. The possibility of a worse and darker future seemed incomprehensible. But everything was possible if you messed up badly enough.
He was also worried about things on earth. He still had no idea who stole his notebook or why. He hoped more than anything that his teacher had misplaced it. Worst case, Flash had found it and spread rumors about him throughout the entire school. Not that anyone would believe him. Everyone thought Peter was a strange boy, but they had never considered the dork to be an avenger. That would be ridiculous.
His nimble fingers involuntarily began to pick at his nails while he stood there roughly. It was becoming a bad habit that Peter needed to fix. His stomach felt unsettled like he had drunk three cups of coffee without a single morsel of food in his stomach. He hated feeling this way. Nothing was in his control. All he desired to do was change things. It didn't matter how long it took. Even if Peter had to wait years, he would do everything within his power to save those he loved, even if it killed him in the process.
"Listen, Kid. I understand how important this all is." The Doctor said, "I saw what happens if we can't fix things. I will help you, okay? You do not have to do this on your own."
"I'm sorry. I've been so focused. I haven't been able to have a moment to think. Everything has been happening so fast." It had only been a week since he arrived at this new time, but everything already felt like they were falling apart at the seams. When he went after Quentin Beck, he was lucky that everything had turned out well. It could have fallen apart just like everything else in his life.
Peter desperately needed to take a moment, breathe in the fresh air and think. He needed to make sense of the jumbled mess of throughs that swirled around in his mind.
"I'm here now. We have two people to think these things through." The Doctor said with a smile.
Peter was thankful for him. He might never have the same relationship with the man he had in the past. But this was close enough. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Stephen. Call me Stephen." They were silent for a moment, and Peter was thankful for it. "What do you plan to do now?" The Doctor finally asked.
Peter only had one thing that he could do now. "I need to pay someone a visit."
"Adrian Toomes?" Dr. Strange correctly guessed, and Peter nodded at him. "Who is he?"
"Ever since the battle of New York, he's been selling Chituari tech and making them into weapons." The man was dangerous. Not as tricky as Thanos. But, he still needed to be taken off of the streets quickly and quietly.
"What does that have to do with you? Can't the avengers take care of it?' Stephen asked him.
Peter winced when he thought of it. "I sort of went to homecoming with his daughter."
Dr. Strange almost couldn't keep in his laughter. "That's rough, kid."
Sometimes Peter forgot about how much he liked Liz. He had been so excited to take her to homecoming. But then, everything seemed the crash and burned in a matter of moments. The next thing he knew, he was rushing out of the homecoming dance to fight her father. He wondered what her reaction would have been when the world found out he was spiderman. Did she hate him for being the reason why her father was behind bars?
"Why don't you come over after school tomorrow Friday, and we can talk through things." The Doctor offered.
Peter nodded to the man. It would be wonderful to talk to someone about his plans. Of course, that meant he had to be even more careful about his secret. "Okay."
"Hey, Peter. It was courageous what you were planning to do. This world is lucky to have you."
"I don't think the world is lucky to have me, sir. Everything I touch falls apart." Jonah Jameson's words filtered through his head. Maybe the man had been right to go after Peter. Perhaps he knew all along what Peter had yet to find out. He was dangerous and a menace.
"Let me make you some hot chocolate. You look like you could use it."
"Thanks." He could use something sweet to take his mind off everything that had happened.
Dr. Strange led him to the kitchen. It was huge-wide and open. The entire kitchen was about the size of the small apartment he and his Aunt shared. A fire roared in the corner of the room, spreading warmth throughout the place. The flames danced in the room and cast oranges and yellows across the reflective marble floor.
Hot milk, cocoa, sugar - sometimes the most simple things were the best. Standing in the Sanctum's kitchen, Peter watched the tiny curls of steam rise into the bitter frosty air. Stephen laid down the mugs with a clink to the counter and glanced over with an encouraging smile. The Doctor poured the steaming liquid into the two glasses and handed Peter one. Peter took it graciously and swirled the liquid in the cup.
His Uncle Ben swore by hot chocolate before bed. He said the sweetness satisfied his cravings, the lull afterward taking him into dreamland. Aunt May and Peter weren't so sure, but why fight hot chocolate? It became their first "tradition" as a new family when Peter moved in with them. The milk had to be creamy and the chocolate intense. On the odd occasion, he saw his Aunt add some liquor. But, Peter liked the multicolored marshmallows shaped like dinosaurs. His Aunt stilled made hot chocolate every single night before she went to bed, in memory of her dead husband.
"Do you have any idea what might have happened with the portal?"
"My guess? They are someplace you can't use a portal. I've read that some places can block certain magics out. I'll be honest. I'm kind of new to all of this. I'll find out why to get to them. I promise."
"Sorry for barging in on you today. I've been a mess." Peter said while taking a sip of the hot chocolate. It was still hot, and he burned his tongue on the steaming liquid.
"Peter. Can you explain to me how you know all of these things?" The Doctor asked. Peter tried to drink without burning himself, but he wasn't sure if he could withstand the heat. The Doctor didn't seem to be bothered by the heat. Maybe, it was some magic trick he had learned over the years.
"I wish I could. More than anything, I want someone to know what I am going through. But I can't let anyone know just yet. One day, I will tell you and everyone I know. We'll have a good laugh about it."
"I'm over here when you're ready."
"I don't think that I will ever be ready." Peter trailed off. "I forgot to tell you, nice pajamas, sir," Peter said, smirking at the fizzy bathrobe the magician still wore.
"They're comfy, Parker." Dr. Strange said in mock offense.
"I'm not judging, sir. I own a pair of hello kitty pajama pants." Well…He used to own a pair of them. They were given to him by Michelle one day. But she had yet to do that. He was looking forward to the day when she would bring the wrapped present to school with a sinister smirk on her face.
Stephen looked at his watch, "You should probably head home. It's getting late. You need me to drive you."
"No, I can walk, but thank you, Stephen."
"Of course, Parker."
Peter walked down the streets of New York, his mind ablaze. The lights glistened across the recently rained roads and illuminated the darkness around him. Ever since he was twelve years old, he had never been afraid to walk the streets at night. Of course, he had always given his Aunt a heart attack when he returned at all hours of the night.
He kicked an empty soda can, and it skidded across the concrete. His mind was blank except for the sound of the aluminum scraping. The sound was jarring and stuck out like a sore thumb in the quiet of the night. New York was never quiet-never sleeping, but it never felt more stagnant than at that moment.
It was late, probably near three in the morning. Peter's body had begun to be affected by the day's lack of sleep and anxiety. His muscles hurt, and every step felt like it took more energy than the next.
He kept walking around his neighborhood, thinking about the day. He decided he was glad that the portal didn't work. It might not have taken him to Thor and Loki, but at least he was able to gain the confidence of Stephen. He wasn't completely alone anymore.
He missed the three other spidermen that had inadvertently become like his brothers. He wished they were there. Maybe then, he could talk to someone who would thoroughly understand him in every way. They would know just the right thing to say to make him feel better. They could help him through everything.
Eventually, Peter walked through his apartment door, not feeling great. It was likely his Aunt had fallen asleep. He was careful not to make a single noise as he opened the door so as not to wake her up.
Even after Dr. Stranges pep talk, He still felt like he had failed. He failed to get to Thor and Loki. What did that mean for the future? Would everything turn out alright? It had to, didn't it?
Peter opened the door only to see his Aunt sitting on the couch with her head sunk into her head. He wasn't sure what was wrong with it. Maybe she had a bad day at work. Sometimes, she would come home from the hospital and tell him for hours about her day. Usually, he would make her a cup of tea, and two of them would sit for hours just talking about how life was going.
He had desperately missed those days. Ever since he became spiderman, he hadn't been allowed to sit down with his Aunt. He regretted it more than anything else in the world.
The moment his Aunt saw him, She threw her arms around him, causing Peter almost to lose his balance. "PETER? THANK GOD."
"Aunt May?" He asked. Not sure exactly what to do.
"Tell me why I just got a frantic call from Tony Stark about you were missing your internship?"
Peter's heart stopped. He honestly didn't think Tony would care that much if he didn't show up. Of course, eventually, Tony and his Aunt would have noticed he was missing. But he was sure he would have had so much more time before he had to worry.
"What?" He sputtered out.
"I almost called the police, Peter." His Aunt's voice continued to grow in volume the more and more she spoke. "No one knew where you were. You didn't show up to school. I swear Tony Stark almost called in the Avengers."
"I'm fine." He said, shaking his head. What was he supposed to say?
"Cut the crap, Peter. I'm not an idiot. You show up into the house bleeding out. You skip school; you miss the internship; you've been sneaking out. Let me help, please."
"There's nothing to say, Aunt May. I'm fine."
"Peter," She said, "I know something is wrong. Just lay it all out. It's okay. It's just you and me.
It's just you and me.
It's just you and me.
Peter felt the urge to run, escape, hide. Those five words brought back the worst moment in Peter's life. All he saw was the blood leaking out from his Aunt as he held her. Why could he never escape that memory? Would the memory never leave him?
He felt like his brain was overloading. Everything was happening too quickly for him to comprehend. Peter felt his legs give out, and he fell to the ground with a loud thud. They probably heard the sound thousands of miles away in Wakanda.
"Peter? Peter?" He heard his Aunt say. He felt her hands on his shoulders.
His Aunt's hands left his shoulder, and he listened to her dial the phone. After several seconds she heard her nervous voice. "Tony! I don't know what to do. Peter came home. He's not. Peter isn't breathing. He's panicking. Tony help. Please."
"Peter. Please Breathe for me." He heard his Aunt's voice. "Breathe, Peter."
It's just you and me.
It's just you and me.
Those words repeated over and over in his head like a mantra. Despite his most admirable efforts, the words would never leave him. Everyone in the entire world wishes to go back in time and fix the mistake they make. But doing it was more challenging than it seemed. It was painful, and you lost a part of yourself on the journey. Why couldn't someone else have a fixed time? Why did it have to be Peter? He had already gone through so much.
He was shaking, and his hands were bleeding from picking at his nails. The smell of salty blood overcame his senses, and soon the only thing on his mind was his Aunt's blood staining his hands.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there shaking on the floor of his apartment floor. Eventually, strong arms, not his Aunt's, were on his shoulders.
"Peter? You with me, kiddo? You're scaring your Aunt. I need you to breathe? Remember last time? Breathe in…Breathe out…"
Breathe in…
Breathe in…
Breathe in…
Breathe out…
He felt his heart start to beat usually. Air filled his lung, and he felt his body relax.
"You doing great, Peter." Mr. Stark said. "Just one more breath in."
He did as Tony told him, and everything became more apparent. He became suddenly aware that he was sitting in the middle of his living room with Tony Stark in the aftermath of a panic attack. Why did this keep happening to him?
"Oh, Thank God." His Aunt sighed.
"Come on, Pete." Tony helped him to his feet and sat him down on the living room couch. Lately, it seemed like he ended up there more and more. "I don't want to pressure you, but we need to know what happened."
What had happened? Why did Peter keep having these panic attacks? Was it because of Thanos? Maybe it was because he had watched everyone that he ever loved to be buried six feet under the ground. Every single person in his life left him. He couldn't help but wonder why.
"I-I don't know." He said. He didn't know. He wasn't sure if he would ever find out what was happening to him.
He took a deep breath and let the familiar air fill his lungs. Next was the hard part. Now he would have to lie to two of the people he loved the most. How long would he be able to live with himself? The lies would all add up one day.
"I keep seeing him. Dying in my arms." He told them. Of course, the two adults though he talked about his uncle ben. But the truth was he was talking about so much more than that. He was lamenting for everyone he ever lost and everyone he would lose in the future.
"I thought the nightmares stopped." His Aunt said.
"They never really did…I haven't been sleeping much." He admitted.
"I used to have nightmares, kid—all of the time. They don't get easier. You just have to have found out why you have them. Only then can you stop them."
Guilt.
Peter was guilty of so many things in his life. He wasn't able to save his uncle or Aunt. He watched as Tony died while saving everyone in the world. He was stupid enough to mess up the spell Doctor Strange cast by trying to get everyone to remember him. His heart ached to change the things he had done in the past.
He thought the past would die the moment he traveled back in time. But it stayed with him, like a tattoo or a thorn in his side. It was naive to think that he could forget about everything that happened.
"Why did you miss the internship today, kiddo? We were worried."
"I just couldn't breathe," He told them. "I needed to breathe."
Tony knew all too well how the kid felt. After Afghanistan, it was hard to function on a day-to-day basis. The small things, the little things, upset him the most. Even the most minor thing could trigger something in him. He often felt like his chest was on fire and would need to leave the room. But Pepper had helped him and put everything into perspective.
After the battle of New York, things had gotten even worse. But eventually, with the support of his friends and loved ones, he had made it through the troubling times. But Tony was an Adult. He wasn't a fourteen-year-old boy who had gone through hell in a short amount of time. While looking at Peter, Tony decided that he would help the boy. He would do whatever it took to make sure Peter didn't turn out like him.
"Please let us know if this happens, Peter. We can be there for you."
The boy timidly nodded at the two of them. "Why don't you get some sleep." Tony said, "I can talk to your Aunt. Okay?"
Peter nodded and walked to his room like a zombie, his feet shuffling on the wooden floor. Peter crashed onto the bed, and the springs squeaked against his weight. He wanted to sleep as they asked him to; his body needed the rest; his mind needed to rest. But, Every time the boy closed his eyes, he saw blood. Every single time he closed his eyes, he was back Titan.
He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to overcome all of the things he had seen. He wasn't as strong as Captain America or as skilled as Natasha. There were only so many things that little Peter Parker could do.
The voices of Mr. Stark and his Aunt wafted into his room. They were quiet, but there wasn't much they could hide with his hearing.
"I'm worried about him." His Aunt said.
"I would be worried if you weren't." Tony's rough voice sounded.
"I thought he had gotten past his uncle dying. He seemed so much happier. It's like someone flipped a switch. He's changed."
Peter could hear the clinking of dishes as she washed them. He tried to ignore the sounds, but it was to no avail.
"I don't know him too well yet. But, He's young. He'll get through it."
"Thank You for looking after him. He needs someone else in his life besides me."
"I'll do what I can. Peter's a good kid."
"He's the best…Has he mentioned something called Titan to you?" Peter's breath caught when she mentioned the planet.
"No." Here could hear the confusion in the man's voice.
"It's just. Peter talks in his sleep when he has nightmares. He'll start screaming throughout the night. The things he says don't make sense. He keeps saying he's sorry and doesn't want to go. It's awful."
Had he really been screaming? He knew he was having nightmares. He couldn't get a single night's rest without going back to Titan. But had he really been screaming?
"I'm sure he will tell us when he's ready." Mr. Stark said although he sounded unsure. "I should get going, May. Let me know how the kid is."
"Of course. Thank You, Tony." Peter heard the click of a lock, and he knew the man had left for the night.
Peter needed to be much more careful with his secrets in the future. He couldn't have his Aunt or Tony Suspicious with every nightmare he had. The boy needed to find a way to quickly get rid of these nightmares.
Peter laid his head on the pillow and tried to fall asleep. He couldn't, but that wasn't at all too surprising. He closed his eyes and greeted nightmares as if they were old friends. Now, his dreams were the one constant in his life. Everything else may have changed, but they stayed with him. After long exploring the darkness of the world, his dreams carried him through the night.