Title: My Favorite Weakness (is You)
Summary: People are either Missing or Being Missed. Finally.
Rating: T (for violence)
A/N: Hi! Thank you for reading more! I'm glad you like it so far! Thanks for your support, you can find me on Tumblr at UniverseMarvel if you're on that platform. If you share your content, I'd love to support you as well! And of course... Enjoy the chapter :')
Chapter 9: Missing
Happy opened a door after leading Peter downstairs and down another unfamiliar hallway.
"Well," Happy turned the light on, "your room," he announced.
Peter nodded and walked in.
"Need anything?" Peter shook his head.
Happy hesitated, obviously unsure of what to say.
"We'll figure this out," he promised, though it sounded empty to both of them; "We've got Tony. Strange. Bruce Banner. That's a trio, right there," Happy chuckled to himself, "and they've got you."
Peter just nodded, holding back the oncoming wave of tears.
Happy mirrored him, nodding, and sensing the close in conversation.
"Sleep well," he said, and shut the door behind him.
Peter looked around the room. He did not have a room in his reality's Stark Tower.
He observed the math pun posters on the wall with little interest. He noted the Lego Star Wars sets on top of the dresser, one even in progress. He saw a notebook on the desk with Peter Parker written across the center in his handwriting. Dead him. No- Not him. The thought made him shudder.
This wasn't his room.
The perfectly made bed was the only evidence that somebody had actually touched the room since this world's Peter had been here.
He felt like he was intruding in someone else's room.
This wasn't his. It technically wasn't even forhim.
He turned the light back off. He didn't want to be here, but even more so he didn't want to leave, so he sat on the bed and leaned on the wall behind it.
He didn't need anything. He didn't know how to call someone even if he did.
Four nights of falling asleep in an empty apartment did not prepare him for how alone he felt that night as he silently cried himself to sleep.
- (earlier) Day 5 -
What Happened to Peter?
Tony waited until after lunch to text the kid, to give him time to sleep in or do homework or go on patrol or do whatever the teen did on a Tuesday morning.
- Tony: Care to swing by?
- Underoos: Yes! I'll be there in an hour!
Tony hadn't slept much at all that night. He hadn't really been sleeping much at all since his favorite backstabbing liars had decided to move in (but that's just his opinion). The paperwork was easy. A hassle, but easy. The legal bumps were no problem. Even the government visitors were cooperative enough to get things done.
The stress, however, was a monster of its own. The mental toll made its presence known through restlessness, a decrease in productivity, and an increase in sleepless nights. He often found himself looking over or being startled easily by noises or someone's entrance in a way that he hadn't been since, well, since back then.
His escape was, again similar to back then, found his workshop. This was one of the only places he felt he could find refuge from the ever-growing intrusive thoughts and memories he'd never been given a chance to look at and deal with.
Peter, as it turns out, was one of the only people in his life that helped him look forward; maybe it was because of when the kid had entered his life. Maybe it was because he knew less than the others. Maybe because the kid looked up to him so much.
Who knew.
Regardless of why, the kid (don't tell him) was one of two people besides Tony that could enter the workshop whenever they wanted (don't tell him). That way FRIDAY could just let him in without having to ask every time. He could always change it later, if he needed to for whatever reason.
Tony was again lost on a project; it had been a while since he'd texted Peter. He checked the time. Peter had said he was going to be here over an hour ago.
Sure, the kid might've run into a hiccup, but it wasn't like him to be this late.
"FRIDAY, is Peter here?" Maybe he got lost. Improbable, but maybe. He was talking about a curious teenager.
"Peter Parker is not on the premises." Tony sighed, and debated whether he should make an effort to act responsibly or not. He lost.
He called Peter's cell, seeing if he'd answer, but it went straight to voicemail. He called again, this time patching it straight through to the suit.
The call cut off without ever connecting.
He sighed, and left his project to go to the computer. "FRIDAY, track his suit."
A buffering symbol showed on the screen before the city's map appeared before him, no red dot to signal a location.
"Unable to track the suit," FRIDAY's voice confirmed.
"Try again."
"I just did."
Tony called Peter again, this time leaving a message.
"Hey, kid, I'll probably see you in a minute, but this the obligatory call-to-make-sure-you're-alive call. Just call when you can and I'll let you know where to find me when you get here. See ya."
There wasn't a reason to worry, right? It had only been an hour. He'd stayed out an hour past curfew, before. He'd stayed out days past curfew. It had only been an hour. Maybe the kid forgot. He seemed to be pretty distractible, right? Oh, and also conveniently turned off the suit's tracker. Again.
This is probably the universe's payback to him after what he'd put his father through. Not that this was in any way relatable to a father/son thing, at all.
He told himself that Peter had forgotten, and went back to his project. He kept the scanners running for any sign of Peter, and pretended like being brushed off didn't hurt as much as it did.
He waited for another two hours and three phone calls before he actually admitted he was worried. Peter was generally too excited about these things to disappear for three hours when he had plans set and without sending a message.
He walked out of the workshop, unknowingly towards some of the most stressful and frustrating days he's had in a long time.
A/N: **and the story takes an unsteady, shaky breath before the next wave **
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