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Chapter Forty-Four
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It's been five years since he lost the kid.
Five years of trying to move on with his life - to move past the guilt and shame… at least, that's what his therapist tells him he should be trying to do.
But the truth was, Tony was just stuck. He didn't particularly want to move on from Peter Parker. He wanted to keep him alive in his mind at least, so Tony made a point to think of him often. Especially whenever he tinkered around in the shop. There may or may not be fifty or so blueprints to different versions of new and improved Spider-Suits - but the ideas only stayed on paper. He hadn't the heart to actually bring them into fruition.
"So… this 'Peter Parker'," The expensive therapist, Dr. Brenda Wellringer, asked in a calm and soothing voice as she gave him a level look over the top of her glasses and notebook, "You say that he died in your arms?"
There was a ticking from the clock on the wall that was incessant. It made his muscles want to twitch as his skin crawled. Tony got up from the stereotypical therapy couch and paced his way to the window. He hated the feeling of her eyes on him while they talked about… this. And she was always writing things down on her notepad, and the action made Tony distinctly aggravated - though he couldn't understand why. He was paying her to analyze him, after all.
"Yes." He finally responded in a curt tone as his eye caught on something in the top corner of the window frame outside - a large spider-web.
Tony swallowed thickly.
From his peripheral vision, he could see Dr. Wellringer nod emphatically. "That must have been a traumatic experience for you. I'm sorry that you went through that. What would you say was your relationship with Peter Parker?"
The spider was really active in its web - the vantage point of being three stories high really must have been the ideal position to catch a lot of prey. Or… maybe all spiders were just that energetic. Like the human one that he once knew…
"…He was my intern."
His hesitation gave him away. Tony peaked back at Dr. Wellringer and there was a flash in her eye that told him that she didn't believe him. His thoughts were confirmed when she spoke. "From all that you've told me about Peter Parker, could you possibly conclude that what the two of you shared was more than just the internship?"
Tony hummed, neither confirming nor denying. The spider was now coating a fly in a thick line of sticky webbing.
The therapist pressed, though, pushing through Tony's sudden fascination of the little spider ruling its domain.
"From the way that you talked about him, it almost sounded like the way a man would talk about his own son."
His gut wrenched. His back stiffened. And his fists clenched to the point where his knuckles whitened.
"Tony… you have to come to terms on what exactly Peter Parker meant to you before you can properly start the grieving process. If you deny the importance Mr. Parker had in your life, it will be that much more difficult for you to accept that he is gone."
What did therapists know, anyway? What if he didn't want to accept that Peter is gone? How can someone just move on from that? The kid died in his fucking arms! He died on Tony's watch - where all he could do was stare at Peter's pained face, willing for reality to correct itself. Denying that any of it was happening at all.
As a result, he didn't even get the chance to comfort Peter in his dying moments.
He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.
And even now, he still hadn't been able to say goodbye. He tried to find so many ways in doing so, but none of them seemed sufficient - worthy enough for Peter.
But still… he continued trying.
Not everyone was allowed a headstone after the snap, due to the shere volume and the lack of bodies to bury. Instead, they erected a memorial of all of the names of the dusted. But Tony made sure that Peter and May Parker got an exception and added their graves to the outline of his property in front of the lake, just far enough away so that Morgan wouldn't accidentally stumble across it. One day he would tell her about Peter… but not yet. She was still so young and Tony wanted to keep her innocent for as long as possible.
As he navigated the well-worn path through the woods, Tony stumbled, drunk. It was about a mile walk from his cabin to the plotted headstones, and Tony made sure to spend the time drinking from his flask.
He needed at least a buzz in order to get through this. He arrived just as dusk had reached its peak. The last slivers of light from the sunset glowed dimly against the white marble that Tony had personally picked out himself.
It was the least that he could do… Peter deserved so much more than this, but at the very least, he got proper respect in death. He deserved to rest in peace.
"Hey, Kid…" Tony said as he walked up to the headstone on the right, not even bothering to read the words that he now knew by heart that were engraved in stone - not that he would be able to read the words now in his current state, blurred vision and all.
When he got close, Tony turned and stumbled backward so that his ass fell to the ground. Shaking his head against the momentary dizziness surrounding his vision, Tony settled himself back and propped his back up against the headstone. He leaned his head back against it, sniffed once - twice - and took another swig of his flask. When he lowered it from his lips, he inhaled a deep breath. "Happy birthday. Twenty-one, huh? That's quite the milestone."
He was quiet for a long moment. Mind swirling with memories that were too painful to think on with a sober mind.
"I, uh, I brought you something…" He reached into the brown paper bag that he had carried with him, opened the crumpling top only to procure a can of Budweizer Beer. "Had to get you the cheap stuff for your first drink - it's tradition that your first beer can't be the fancy crafted stuff, you know?"
He popped the top open with a snap and watched as the resulting foam tried to escape the small opening. He placed the can next to him, propped up against the thick stone of Peter's grave. Then he held his flask up in the air, saluted the heavens, and said, "Cheers."
He downed all of the burning liquid that remained.
…..
"Quantum fluctuation messes with the plank scale which triggers the Deutsche proposition- Can we agree on that?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow at Steve Rogers as he handed him the drink that he had just poured, which Cap slowly took. Then, Tony turned to Scott Lang, "In layman's terms, it means that you're not coming home."
"I did." Scott immediately tried to contradict him. Tony never really liked this douchebag. They had never fought together on the same side, and yet, here he was trying to buddy up with him?
"No. You accidentally survived. It's-" Tony waved his hand dismissively in the air as he huffed a breath. "It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you want to pull a… what do you call it?"
He handed Scott a glass which the man took as he hesitantly shrugged his shoulders. "A… time heist?"
"Yeah." Tony deadpanned. "Time heist. Of course. Why didn't we think of this before? Oh! Because it's laughable? Because it's a pipe dream?"
All three faces of Cap, Lang and Romanoff were stricken as they stared at him. Did he seriously need to get it through their heads…?
"The stones are in the past…" Cap said hesitantly, "We could go back and get them."
Apparently, the answer to his own question was yes. He did need to painfully spell it out for them.
"We could snap our own fingers," Romanoff supplied while looking at Cap for backup. Honestly, when did those two get so chummy? "We could bring everybody back."
Tony had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?"
There was a beat of silence before…
"I don't believe we would," Cap said in that arrogant and vitriolic way of his. So prideful and sure of himself. Tony couldn't help but hate his face at that moment. It was just the sort of thing his dad always fell for when it came to the Cap. But not Tony… he always had a knack for seeing through the bullshit.
"I've gotta say… sometimes I miss that giddy optimism," Tony replied, dryly as he gave Cap a level stare. Then he slowly meandered his way to his chair, and worked his way down to settle into it. "However, high hopes won't help if there is not a logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said… time heist."
He eyed every one of them. "I believe our most likely outcome would be our collective demise."
….
Tony had always been plagued with a mind that would over-think too much. And when he got a thought stuck in his mind, it was difficult for him to shake - even to the point where it affected his sleep.
After Cap, Lang, and Romanoff left, he thought that they took their ridiculous idea with them. But to his annoyance, they left it behind - to stew in the innermost recesses of his mind.
Fuck them.
Fuck them all.
It was getting late as he stood at the sink, hand-washing the dishes just as something for his hands to do outside of the garage. If he went to the garage now, then these thoughts that he had would turn into action. And he didn't want to give Cap the satisfaction.
As he set the last plate on the side in the drying rack, he wrung the towel in his hands, wondering what else he could do now to keep his mind occupied.
That was when a picture on the shelf caught his eye…
His gaze fixated on it as he threw the towel over his shoulder. He almost felt himself reflexively leaning towards it as his hands lifted themselves slowly in order to reach for it.
He took the framed picture off of the shelf, gazed at it for a beat before he took the forgotten towel over his shoulder in order to wipe at the dust that had collected on the glass of the frame.
It had been Peter's first trip to Stark Industries. Tony had taken the time to personally give him a tour. He remembered being amused when Peter had arrived with a beaming mega-wats smile and wide, wondrous eyes as he took everything in. And that was not to even mention the amount of word-vomit that had passed through Peter's lips as he dissected every project and experiment S.I. had been working on at the time.
In the end, Tony had handed over an official plaque to signify Peter's 'internship'. It had been a joke, but the way that Peter's eyes had lit up when Tony handed over the plaque almost made Tony wish that the internship excuse was actually a reality.
S.I. could always use a brilliant mind like Peter's, after all.
When Peter had insisted that they take a picture in front of the Stark Industries sign, Tony had taken it all in stride - may have quipped a sarcastic comment or joke as they set up to pose for the picture. He made Happy hold the camera to snap the picture, and his long-time friend hadn't been amused. That had been back before the kid grew on him. But then… Peter had a way of always worming his way into people's hearts - no matter how hardened they appeared.
They held the plaque in between the two of them and threw up bunny ears on each other for good measure. Tony hadn't known it then, but it had become one of his favorite pictures of the two of them. Just from the way that Peter's excitement had been captured so accurately through the lens - somehow immortalized the moment in time…
Time…
Tony nearly gasped.
Time…
…
The resulting next two months had been…. interesting to say the least. Tony spent a lot of his days at the Avengers compound - with Rhody, Bruce, Natasha, Cap, Barton, Thor and… ugh, Scott Lang. It all felt so distinctly familiar to the times before their final battle with Ultron. Their comradery back then had been unbreakable - or so he had thought at the time - but now it felt like it was finally starting to mend itself back together again.
It helped that there were a couple of additions to the team that he actually liked. The talking raccoon had a mouth on him that Tony admired. And he had a bit of a soft spot for Nebula after they almost died together on that ship in space after… their battle on Titan.
Tony had also come to terms with Cap when he first turned up at the Avengers compound with a fully functioning time-space GPS watch.
"Turns out, resentment is corrosive and I hate it," Tony told him as they stood together in front of the Avengers Compound.
Cap gave him a small, wistful smile. "Me too."
"We've got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities." Tony then said, laying down the law thick. There would be, under no circumstances, an outcome where he would lose Pepper and Morgan. He wanted to make that perfectly clear to Steve. Because if Cap thought that he had been angry when he found out the truth about his parents' deaths, then he would surely be educated if anything happened to his wife and little girl.
"Bring back what we lost, I hope, yes-" Peter's face was clear in the forefront of his mind. Because damn it all to hell, maybe what that crackpot therapist said four years ago was right. Peter was like a son to him. "-Keep what I found-" Morgan's angelic little face swam across his mind's eye. "-I have to. At all costs."
His vision of Morgan morphed so that Peter joined the picture, the two of them together by the lake at his cabin, playing with Peter's web-shooters…
Yes. That is the future that he wants. The future that he needs.
"...and, maybe not die trying…" He added for good measure as he took a step closer to Steve and held out his hand, a truce. "...would be nice."
Steve grasped his hand, an earnest expression on that chiseled face of his. "Sounds like a deal."
They were finally on the same team again. It was all very disgustingly nostalgic. And Tony loved it.
He had even gifted Cap's shield back to him as a peace offering.
It was then that Tony realized what it was that he had been missing these last five years - Purpose. He felt that he perhaps found some of that here on the compound, planning away late into the night while dishing out on copious amounts of Chinese food with everyone on the team surrounding him.
It felt good to be needed again.
….
Their Time Heist had gone a little sideways… despite their meticulous planning, somehow the Loki of this timeline had gotten away with the tesseract.
This… caused more than a little brainstorming that had to be done on Tony and Steve's part. And they ended up traveling back in time to New Jersey, 1970 with Scott Lang's ominous warning riggling through his mind after they pressed the buttons on their Time-GPS watches.
"Look, if you do this, and it doesn't work, you're not coming back."
Tony released a frustrated huff of breath as he looked on at Lang with derisive disdain. "Thanks for the pep talk, pissant."
Then, he turned to look at Steve, his gaze imploring as he asked the all-so-important question… "Do you trust me?"
A single firm nod was given in response, along with Steve's affirmative words, "I do."
…
In a way, they had been successful. They had managed to come back to the present with all of the stones - Tony and Steve's little side-hustle had gone down nearly without a hitch, if not with a trip down memory lane on Tony's part.
Of all people for him to have run into, he had never thought that he would've seen - let alone conversed - with his dad.
But when they had returned to the present, and when the dust had settled, the realization that they had lost Natasha was… a big blow.
Coming to grips with her death… was difficult for Tony to come to terms with. He couldn't possibly imagine how Clint and Bruce were dealing with it.
Probably in the same way that Tony dealt with Peter's death all these years - by not dealing with it.
In the end, they all agreed that they had to make her sacrifice worth it. They had to succeed in bringing everyone back in order to honor her memory.
That is what Natasha would've wanted.
So, with the help of Rocket and Bruce, Tony grafted and created a new Infinity Gauntlet. And he was grateful that he was one of the ones that got to do the work, rather than sitting around to wait. It kept his mind occupied away from Natasha's death. And if he happened to think of anything besides his work? He focused on Peter - picturing his face helped to motivate him further.
Tony couldn't wait to bring Peter back. There was so much to tell him. To much to say.
He pictured inviting Peter over to his cabin on the weekends in the summer - so that they could work on projects together in his garage, after spending the day lazing about in the sun by the lake.
He wanted to introduce Peter to his little girl. His heart nearly burst at the excitement he felt at the two of them getting to know one another, bonding, laughing.
And finally, in his mind's eye, he could see Peter and his Aunt May sitting down for family dinners with them as Pepper served her signature roasted lamb dish.
All that he had to do was be successful in his task now, to build a functioning gauntlet that would be stable enough to wield the powers of the stones, and all of that could be a reality.
….
Thor had been adamant that he be the one to wear the gauntlet - to snap his fingers and bring everyone back. "Let me be useful for once! Let me do something good." He begged Tony with tears brimming in his eyes as Tony tried to coax him away from the gauntlet.
It pained Tony to have to talk Thor down because he could tell just how earnest he was about it. But… Tony couldn't let Thor do it. It was too much of a risk given that Thor was not in top condition right now. There might have been a time where Tony would have agreed that Thor would've been one of the best candidates for the job. But Tony had been observing Thor these last few weeks… and there was just no way. Not only from his physical condition but also judging by his mental state.
No… Thor was out of the question.
But Bruce…
"The radiation… is mostly gamma," Bruce said as he stared dauntingly down at the glove that practically sat like it was on a pedestal by the way that they all circled around it, "It's like I was made for this."
Tony had to begrudgingly agree. Bruce was the man for the job. Everyone must have thought the same because they were all silent as they watched as Bruce reached for the glove. No one stopped him. Simply watched as Bruce held up the gauntlet to his right hand as Tony's Iron Man technology in it maneuvered the metal plating so that it expanded to fit Bruce's large, hulk fist.
Tony couldn't account for the last time that he took in a breath as he actively held it in with trepidatious anticipation while the glove's technology fastened snugly around Bruce's hand. And as soon as it did, the power of the Infinity Stones coursed in an array of colors up Bruce's veins.
Tony had never seen the Hulk stumble before, but that was exactly what had occurred as Bruce fell to his knees in agonizing pain. A thick coat of sweat immediately broke out over Bruce's entire body as he tried to hold in the extent of his screams. Tony desperately wanted to step forward to help him, in some way - in any way - but there was nothing that he could do but watch. Watch as Bruce struggled to even move his fingers in the gauntlet in order to perform the task that they set out to do from the beginning of all of this.
"Take it off!" Thor cried as the green skin of Bruce's arm started to burn. "Take it off!"
"Wait!" Cap cautioned Thor with a raised hand before he turned to Bruce. "Bruce, are you ok?"
"Talk to me, Banner," Tony added, needing to hear the answer from his friend himself.
Bruce grunted in pain as he panted in short breaths while on his knees. Until finally…
"Okay…" Bruce heaved in lungfuls of air, "I'm okay."
That was difficult to believe when the skin of Bruce's arm was both glowing and charred with burns. But… he had to trust Bruce's word on this. They had to see this through.
Using his other hand in order to prop up the arm with the gauntlet, Bruce lifted it in the air. And, with a mighty cry and the painful-looking contortion of Bruce's twisting fingers, he managed to get them into the correct position for-
SNAP.
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First, there was nothing.
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Nothing at all.
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Just darkness. Not even time or space. Tasteless. Formless.
Nothingness…
Then, in a split second - BANG!
Every single thought that he ever had was shoved into his brain without a moment's hesitation. It was almost painful by how disorienting it actually was. Visions of his life swam past his mind's eye without him even being able to really comprehend them. Like the rain in the middle of a hurricane - impossible to pinpoint each and every individual drop while standing in the midst of it.
Air was forced deep into his lungs. And he sucked in a heaving breath before it released into a barrage of coughs - it took some time, and he thought that perhaps he was about to hack up a lung, but he was finally able to stabilize himself as he settled back onto the ground.
His eyes snapped open, and he was introduced to the sight of colors… a-and textures.
It was breathtaking.
He lay on his back and just looked up at the atmosphere of the sky for a bit of time, in silent contemplation as he came to find more and more of himself pieced itself back together.
"Peter," A voice called from his left and he reflexively turned his head. Peter… that was his name.
Peter Parker.
Doctor Strange was heaving in lungfuls of air while he sat on his hands and knees a small distance away - in the spot that he had been sitting when he had been dusted away not even a minute ago. Wait… The dusting… H-How was Doctor Strange even back? Was it his magic that saved him? Peter peaked down at his own torso, still clad in his spider-suit. His body was whole. No dust in sight besides what lay on the ground below him on this barren planet. Did Doctor Strange use his magic on Peter then, too?
The more that he thought on it, the more that it made the most sense. Gratitude swelled in his gut for the wizard that had apparently saved his life. And not only that, he had saved Mr. Stark from having to live with the guilt of-
Peter's thoughts cut off as he sat up suddenly and whipped his head around, trying to locate the man at the forefront of his mind. But… he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he only saw Star Lord, Mantis, and Drax as they groaned in disorientation due to their current circumstances. Doctor Strange managed to save them too?
"Mr. Stark?!" Peter cried as he jumped up to his feet from his position on the ground, suddenly full of energy as the adrenaline-laced panic swelled in his gut. He twirled around in desperation, trying to spot the man that arguably admired most throughout the entire universe. "Tony?!"
"He's not here," Doctor Strange rasped from behind him as Peter whirled to face him. The man was giving him an even expression.
"W-What do you mean that he's not here?" Peter sputtered as he took a step closer to the wizard, his arms thrown up in the air as he gestured them about wildly. "He was- He was just here a second ago!"
"No." Doctor Strange said definitively. "He wasn't."
Peter was confused for a moment as he simply stared at Doctor Strange. What could he possibly mean by that? How could Mr. Stark just suddenly disappea-
His thoughts stopped short as his eyes widened. No… it couldn't be. Just….no! Tony, he… he couldn't be the one to get snapped away! Not when Peter had been saved.
It was clear that Doctor Strange could see the distress on Peter's face as his world internally crumbled. He was about to start hyperventilating with the tears stinging against his eyes as his hands went up to knot tightly in his hair.
"Peter, relax," Doctor Strange said in a calm tone, so contradictory to how Peter felt… How in the world was he supposed to relax! Tony wasn't here, he- Peter nearly stumbled against the weight of his thoughts, which were so much heavier to bear than the building that Toomes had once dropped on him. Doctor Strange finally stood, his legs slightly wobbly as he worked on stabilizing himself. Then he took the half a dozen steps that were needed to approach Peter, and once in front of him, he clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder - his gaze softened. "This is all a part of the plan, trust me. Tony Stark is not here… because it's been five years."
Peter could only stare at him. His first instinct would've been to laugh if the subject matter hadn't been so distressing.
"What did you just say?" A voice from behind him broke through all of the noise in his head.
They both turned to look back at Star Lord, as he approached briskly after he settled Mantis gently on the ground. She looked dizzy and disoriented.
"Just as I said," Doctor Strange stressed, his tone bridging for no contradiction. "It's been five years. And… they need us."
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A/N: I split this chapter again because it was getting to be too long. But don't worry! I wasn't too mean. I gave you Peter back at least, didn't I?
Please leave a comment/review to let me know your thoughts on the chapter.
Thanks for reading!
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