Tony didn't see Peter again for several months. When he did show up, it was less convenient timing than the last two visits. Tony was just about to go get Morgan at school, and they were supposed to go into the city and meet Pepper there for the weekend. Not that convenience mattered, once Tony saw the kid's face. He looked like he'd gone nine to twelve rounds with someone way out of his weight class. His face was cut and bruised up, and he was walking stiffly, clutching just a limp jacket in one hand, with the other hand wrapped around his middle. But it was his eyes that worried Tony the most. Somehow they looked both empty and also anguished and lost. And the circles under his eyes looked like he hadn't slept in a night or two.

Peter was waiting at the edge of the forest, just standing there, when Tony walked out to get into the car. How long had he been there? Why hadn't he come to the door? Tony hadn't parked in the garage after his errands earlier because he knew he'd just be going back out soon. If he'd parked in the garage, would he have even seen Peter? He turned, moving forward a few steps as he tried to make sure he was seeing right. "Pete?"

At that question, the broken kid hobbled into the space between them, Tony hurrying to meet him, and the kid collapsed into his arms. Almost literally. Tony wasn't quite as strong as he used to be, and huffed under the weight of the young adult. Actually, other than his current condition, Peter looked better than last time. He looked like he'd put on a little weight, actually, which was fantastic, and if you could look past all the injuries, his skin and hair looked healthier. Something seemed to be going right. But not at the moment.

"Kid? Can you walk? I can't quite carry you anymore, unless you let go while I call a suit…"

Peter straightened up, taking his weight off of Tony. "Sorry, M's'r Stark," he slurred, rubbing his eyes but walking under his own power as Tony led him inside.

"Nah, you're okay, bud, I just need to be hitting the gym a little more often, I think."

Tony helped him to the couch, and instead of letting him sit, made him lay down. He looked like he might fall over at any moment. When Tony moved to let go of him and sit in the chair next to him, the young superhero positively whimpered. Change of plans. "Lift your head, Pete," he said softly, sliding in under it so the kid's head was in his lap.

"FRIDAY, please ask Happy if he can pick Morgan up and take her into the city to Pepper. Tell Pep what's come up, and that I'll join them when I can. And let the school know there's been a change, and also that Happy might be late. Can you coordinate between them for me, babe?"

"Of course, Boss." Bless FRIDAY.

"Sorry, Tony, you have stuff. I can just go upstairs and sleep. You can go," Peter sounded more alert, and ready to jump deep into the I-don't-want-to-be-a-bother pool he had spent way too much time in.

"Absolutely not , Spiderling. You've obviously been through something, and need someone to take care of you." But why are you here ? Tony thought. Was there no one there willing to take care of you there? Why did they send you? Was I really their first choice? "I'm happy to do that."

"They already took care of my, uh, injuries. The ribs were broken, but they're getting better." He groaned slightly as he reached down to raise his t-shirt. Tony could see clean white bandages wrapped around his torso, and a particularly long cut on his neck was carefully stitched up. He even looked like he'd had a shower. So why…

Then he met Peter's haunted eyes again. Oh. "Pete, why did they send you here? Did you ask to come?"

Peter was quiet for a few breaths. "I think… they were worried about me?" Tony stayed quiet, waiting for the rest. Finally, his voice quietly continued. "There was some kind of attack. A… a bomb, and the whole building was trying to come down. We got lots of people out, but a lot didn't make it." Oh, kid. Oh, no wonder he was wrecked.

He continued in a rough whisper. "There was a mom and her three little kids down in the parking garage, and I was trying to get them out, but I couldn't carry them all at once. I was trying , Tony. I almost had them. But I was holding the one little girl. And… and the rest of them I was pulling behind me." The last word came out as a sob. He didn't talk again for a couple minutes, and Tony couldn't do anything but run his fingers softly through the young man's hair, over and over, trying to soothe the unconscionable pain.

"I could feel that something really bad was going to happen, and I tried to get out, to get them out. But I couldn't pull them fast enough. They couldn't keep up. So I got the little girl out, and mostly shielded her from the debris, but then the building collapsed, and… and…" Peter turned on his side, hissing in pain as he buried his face in Tony's side, trying to escape from a worse, less physical pain. Tony's heart broke for him.

"Peter, bambino , you were doing your best. You went as fast as you possibly could, and it still happened. It's not your fault, buddy!" Tony didn't know if his whispered assurances could possibly do any good, but he was going to try."

"The little girl," Tony stopped breathing, trying to hear the words, muffled from where Peter's face was buried in his shirt, "she's just seven. Almost the same age as Morgan, and now she doesn't have any… any family left, because I wasn't fast enough. How can that ever be okay?" He had pulled back some, and his voice was louder, and lower. "How can I be the reason someone else is alone?" The ' like me' was unspoken.

"Pete, you did everything you could. It absolutely isn't your fault. You didn't cause her family to die; you saved her life. That's something to celebrate."

"But being alive without her family? Is that really something to celebrate?" Obviously this whole thing had triggered more for Peter than just simply losing people he was trying to save. Which would have been traumatic enough on its own.

Peter's breaths were coming out in sobs now. Quiet, wet, stuttered breathing finally took their place, and the kid brought his arm up to wrap around Tony's torso. Tony cradled his head, reaching for a throw on the back of the couch that he used to wipe away all the tears he could reach. His shirt was soaking up the rest. His poor empathic kid, always so quick to blame himself.

Peter was breathing more slowly and heavily now, and his death grip on Tony's shirt was relaxing. Was he falling asleep? Tony hoped so. A few hours of sleep could ease some trauma. When the kid's face and hands finally relaxed completely, Tony also relaxed, laying his head back and letting his hand rest limply on Peter's back.

He took a few minutes to communicate with Pepper, but then he also just rested, thinking. Who took care of the superheroes when they weren't able to save everyone? He knew Peter needed counseling, and hopefully he'd be getting it, if he wasn't already. But apparently their answer (whoever "they" were - Strange? Where were Rogers, Romanoff, Bruce, Wilson? Why wasn't anyone taking care of his kid Spiderman? Didn't they all get undusted there?) Peter sighed in his lap, turning slightly so he was facing the ceiling more. Tony gazed down on his face, still tear-tracked, but more peaceful in sleep. Well, he guessed he was taking care of him, and at least they'd managed get Peter to him quickly.

It was a few hours later when Peter finally woke, and Tony couldn't help but be grateful. His back was complaining about being in the same position for too long. After shifting around for a few minutes, Peter's eyes flew open in alarm, but then quickly dropped back to half mast when he saw Tony's face above his.

"Hey, sorry," he started, sitting up.

"Hush, kid. I'm glad you got a little sleep. You needed it. How long has it been since the bomb?"

Peter winced. "Uh, how long was I asleep?"

"About three hours."

"It happened yesterday morning for me. And it was almost sunset when they, uh, sent me. So 'bout a day and a half."

"And you didn't sleep last night?"

"Nah. Nightmares. MJ offered to come home and be with me, but she's got some big tests this week, plus her mom just got diagnosed with cancer, so she's kind of dealing with her own stuff. I didn't want to put more on her."

"So, MJ…"

"Yeah," a very small smile broke through. "We just started dating… again, I guess, for me, recently. She's great." He sobered. "But she doesn't really understand this kind of thing."

Tony finally had a chance to ask about what was bothering him. "Pete, where are the rest of the Avengers? Why are you going this stuff alone there? Didn't everyone come back after Thanos?"

"Well, I didn't know most of them that well even before, you know? And now none of them know me. Captain America, he didn't come back from returning the Infinity Stones. Well, he did, but he stayed in the past and then got old?"

"That's not confusing at all." Tony shook his head. "Bruce, Nat, Clint?"

"Dr. Banner is working in Tanzania last I heard. Some kind of research. He doesn't know me. Ms. Romanoff, um… she didn't come back from returning the stones either, I guess."

Oh. Tony's eyes widened. She was one of the few who were still left after the dusting here.

"Dr. Strange helps me a lot, when he's not in other dimensions, or off-world… And Clint? You mean Hawkeye? Like the older one?"

"Older one? Yeah, probably. I know he struggled a lot here when his family got dusted. But he's doing better now. He has kids your age, I think. Have you ever talked to him?"

"No. I think he lives somewhere with his family."

"Yeah, pretty sure I know where. I'm gonna write you another letter, 'cause he'd be a good contact for you…"

Peter shook his head fondly. Then he was quiet, and Tony looked over to see tears leaking down his cheeks again. Tony was quick to put his arm up around the young superhero. "Hey, hey. Shhh. It's okay."

"It's not," Peter said brokenly. "But I kinda feel like it will be, eventually. So thank you."

"Hungry, bud?"

"Yeah, actually I think I can eat. I couldn't, much, since yesterday."

Tony missed the weekend in the city with his family. Peter stayed four days before a portal opened to see if he was ready to go back. He wasn't, but he had worked through much of his grief and trauma, just letting Tony love him and be with him. He talked about what had happened more, and let Tony remind him continually it wasn't his fault. They played cards, and worked in the lab, and cooked, and watched movies, and ate a lot. When Pepper and Morgan came back Monday they both showered him with love as well, and when the portal opened, he at least seemed stable again. His ribs were mostly healed, and his face looked better. His eyes were sad, but not haunted. Not empty.

Tony walked to the portal with him and looked through this time. He saw another version of Dr. Strange standing there with a worried expression, and a girl, probably younger than Peter, who seemed to be concentrating on the portal. He stared at Strange, hopefully communicating with his eyes that he expected more of them. Peter, armed with a tupperware container of cookies, several new recipes, letters for Bruce and Clint, one of Tony's hoodies, and a little more peace, turned to give him one last hug. Tony kissed the side of his head, clapped him on the shoulder, and sent him "home," not knowing when he'd be seeing him again. But he was confident that he'd made a difference, and that the kid knew he was loved, and that he could do hard things. And really, that's all he could do, especially from another universe.