It took a bit for Peter to come to his senses. He had heard his aunt and Mr. Stark talking but didn't truly process it as he sat in the chair. Everything was heading in and out of focus, was this heaven?
In a semi-lucid state, Peter barely noticed Mr. Stark's absence and time flew by. Only after a handful of minutes did his Aunt get his attention. "What happened?" She asked in a soft and soothing voice.
Peter couldn't help but find it rather funny, how would she react if she knew he would be fighting Captain America in Germany in only 13 hours?
That was the moment the sensation hit him. He was supposed to be on a plane with Mr. Stark heading to Germany right now. Praying that he was mistaken against all odds Peter opened his mouth and in soft disbelief questioned his aunt, "Did Mr. Stark already leave?"
The moment Peter heard the words "yes" his ears stopped working. He saw his aunt's mouth moving yet he was completely lost in his thoughts.
He was going to miss the fight? But then what would happen? For a moment he thought that everything would go better. He had spent a bit regretting his actions when he was filled in on what exactly the Sokovia Accords were. If he was being honest, Mr. Stark probably didn't tell him because he knew that he would probably side against him. Refocusing himself for a moment he thought about what he actually did during the fight. Without him both Falcon and the Winter Soldier would have free reign, and Ant-Man would take a lot longer to deal with. Despite how much he hoped that would only help Captian America he doubted it would make a difference, however, the civil war concluded and wherever they went it was only Iron Man and the two of them. He doubted that anyone else being involved would change the already favorable result.
Yet Peter found himself unable to get over to one small thought in the back of his head. What if it ends up worse? What if Ant-Man accidentally gurts someone? What if his absence makes Captain America get captured for some reason? A kind of butterfly effect...
Unable to give it up he finally decided he had to go, it was on him if he chose not to go and someone ended up injured. Returning to reality he looked at his still worrying aunt before taking a deep breath. "I can't explain but I need to go somewhere for a bit. I'll be back after in a few days, promise," Peter tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke.
"Days?!" His aunt quickly shifted from a merciful Buddha to an asura. "Are you being bullied? What do you even mean by 'can't'?! I will not let you move an inch before you explain at one Mr. Parker!" The change in attitude started Peter as he heard her questioning, he had never seen her like this additionally. For a moment he considered simply telling her everything. Hey, I'm a superhero from the future, half of the universe is going to be killed in two years also. Hell, knowing her she would probably take it well considering how she took him being Spider-Man also. Yet he couldn't tell her this, the secret that half of the world will probably die in two years is a burden that is simply too cruel to carry. Let alone the moral dilemma of his presence here. He half thought he was in heaven right now which implies that she died also.
No, if he was truly in heaven Uncle Ben would be here too. Not able to bring himself to lie to her he simply tried to speak as resolutely as possible, "I really want to but I'm not going to tell you. Where did you get the impression that I am being bullied also?! This is something I have to do."
"Is it about Mr. Stark?" Aunt May's face seemed to darken a bit as she asked.
"No! Why on Earth would it have anything to do with him?" Peter spoke in a bit of a panic, only processing his lie belatedly.
"Mr. Parker I certainly did not raise a liar and it is kind of obvious with how you were just imitating his voice..." Aunt May's remark shot straight through Peter, his only real reference for resolute was Mr. Stark after all...
After a bit of silence, Aunt May finally relented, "Alright. But if you stay out for more than three days you better be ready to be grounded for a month at least."
A smile broke out on Peter's face as he quickly started heading towards his room voicing his thanks, "Thanks! I will be!"
Closing his door he briefly considered what to pack, a few pairs of clothes in case of delays, some money, and most importantly his "suit." Part of him still wished that Tony would walk back in with the suit in hand yet sadly that was an impossible dream.
Just as he was about to leave he had a thought, what about tickets?
...
The noise was so loud that he felt like he was gonna collapse due to the headache before everything. However despite the noise and the incredible amount of wind he barely clung on. "It was easy to do for a spaceship how can a mere airplane be so much harder?" Peter couldn't help but mutter in an attempt to reassure himself. Yet seeing the ground swiftly going further away as the air-cooled he felt a bit of fear, there was no Iron Spider suit if he failed this time.
Taking a deep breath of the slowly thinning air he stuck to the belly of the plane as he crawled towards the wheels. Squeezing into the small compartment for wheels he felt a moment of doubt when he saw the wheel folding in on itself and growing closer to him.
Within the almost completely dark compartment, a feeling of dread crawled into him. It stemmed less from the fact that it was dark, no he wore glasses darker simply to be able to focus, it was the light that was the issue. The fact that the air was growing colder even slightly and thinner.
Peter thought about kicking open the metal and trying to jump out before it got higher and he grew worse yet stopped himself. What if the landing gear is damaged or the damage caused other damage? Feeling the weight of his poorly thought-out actions he opened up his suitcase and pulled out the extra clothes. Right now he simply needed to stay awake and try to fight off the hypothermia and altitude sickness.
The first hour was both the best and worst of the eight-hour trip. On one hand, Peter's body was still the warmest and he had a lot of oxygen on the other there was the building fear. How was he so stupid? He was going further up than even Everest, let alone fighting was he going to survive? The clothes did little to stop the cold and he was barely hanging on by breathing very very quickly to get more oxygen.
Around the second hour, Peter realized he might die even with his spider physique. Although it helped him a lot he felt cold when web swining. No need to say the sheer difference in temperature. He might be more durable yet that simply helped deal with the issues less than stop them from building up. At one point he most certainly stated, "I-i-if on-nly i-it was a-a-a p-p-polar-r b-b-b-bbear." Swiftly following that of course was, "N-no-ope, d-d-dd-dd-efinit-tl-ly n-n-no-ot o-on s-sec-con-nd thou-ught-t." For a moment, he considered webbing up the gap yet he honestly had no clue how far he was into the journey. What if they were landing in just a few minutes? Needless to say, it was far too much of a risk to damage the landing gear. He just tried to keep his mind on the people above him, they needed him to hold on as is, just a few more minutes after all. Needless to say, his mental facilities were already impaired, the room within the cabin having long acclimated to the temperature outside.
The third hour was mostly spent on experimentation. Although he avoided damaging the landing gear, he was already going to be rather impaired going into the conflict he needed every leg up he needed against them too. His gear was also rather-no, extremely crappy to say the least. To begin with, he removed the goggles. While they most certainly helped he was already not going to be feeling well during the fight. While the overload of information would certainly be even worse on his head the worst would be headaches and a bit of lacking focus. The advantage? Sheer information. Even if he didn't have time to properly sort it out he was no longer as new to his powers now, he could manage even the senses enough to be helpful. Not to mention how even if he didn't register it, it helped out his spider-sense a discovery he made rather recently. He methodically worked his way through his suit, making any and all adjustments no matter how small. The result was rather underwhelming considering how much effort he put in but it was better than nothing. Not to mention its main purpose of distracting him it also let him better understand its current abilities. However, he found a rather significant flaw with it, the web shooters were broken, likely from the high temperatures. He had roughly an hour after he landed assuming he didn't try to coordinate with Mr. Stark to try to fix it yet it was unlikely. On the other side, he couldn't get any stupid stray ideas anymore.
The fourth hour was when Peter's situation truly got bad. His fingers felt like they were freezing despite the many layers and his head grew more and more fuzzy. Whereas before it was simply slowing down and impaired now it felt like he was on the verge of falling asleep. He was already breathing much faster to try to compensate for the oxygen but his lungs felt tired. His heart felt heavy. His limbs felt so cold. Where was he? Yes, he was trying not to go to sleep because... it slowed down his breathing and he needed oxygen. Just needed to stay awake he was almost there.
During the fifth hour, Peter made his final struggle. His life flashed before his eyes as his head drooped. His brain barely thought. Was he really going to waste this second chance? His fleeting consciousness held on for dear life trying to encourage him to hold on, any second the air would start getting warmer, and the oxygen would return. How long had it been since he properly rested though? He went straight from the invasion to the fight with Thanos to death. Was it truly that bad to rest? How could he stop Thanos either? It should have been someone else who was given this chance. With that, he closed his eyes, yet despite his words he fought it harder than ever before. Regardless of whether he wanted it or not, he was the one to return, the fight was now his responsibility.
The sixth hour was torment, Peter didn't have the strength to open his eyes but his breath was still five times quicker than on the ground. His brain felt beyond mush and goo as visions spun under the darkness of his eyelids. He began to fall asleep towards the end of the hour, within the dream he was sitting in the compartment with his eyes open patiently bearing the torment. It took a bit for him to realize it was a dream and that too was only due to how his thoughts were further deteriorating. Even after acknowledging the fact he couldn't wake up or control his body, he simply stayed there breathing slowly. He only truly "woke up" after a handful of minutes, even then it was only correcting his breathing.
The seventh hour was a blur. It felt by far the shortest as he came in and out of dreams, at a certain point he forgot why he was even doing this, nothing would even come from his survival after all. Yet he held on as he went in and out of dreams constantly wary for any signs of if it was either.
It was during the eighth hour that Peter was closest to death. His body had grown cold, he no longer had any thoughts of substance, and his fingers felt like they were going to fall off at any moment. He stopped bothering trying to differentiate whether he was sleeping or not, he only kept fighting to wake up. Whether the state he was in was awake would be too long to tell. Toward the end he felt the cold within his bones, he felt like his heart rate had slowed down as he lost feeling in every part of his body. He didn't know whether he was breathing fast, slow, or simply not. The only thing that gave him some sense of reality was a prickling deep within, the same thing that tortured him at the end of his last life. The only reason he was probably able to hold it together was its rather sluggishness, he had a gut feeling after a certain point that he was simply going to live. Regardless he felt cold sweat run down his spine as if death was behind him.
Then the temperature began to get warmer, his brain feeling the tiniest of bits better. A feeling of accomplishment washed over him before he felt his consciousness fading.