Chapter Text
Less than an hour later saw the pair sitting, coffee in hand, across from each other at the rickety table in Peter’s apartment.
Tony had spent the entire journey on the subway sneaking glances at the kid’s face, noting where his jawline had grown sharper and the lines around his eyes more pronounced. The changes, though small in themselves, told a story. One that Tony hadn’t been there for but was desperate to know.
Peter had seemed to be taking the opposite approach, practically avoiding Tony’s gaze. Every now and again though, the train carriage would jostle and their shoulders would brush briefly - just enough for Tony to notice how the tension left the kid’s shoulders slightly.
The entire time, Tony had been briming with questions, accusations and apologies, but now that the two were alone, it was much harder to say anything. It felt impossible to know where to start, yet if he didn’t say something soon he might burst.
‘Nice place you got’, maybe?
Looking around, the studio apartment itself was… humble, to say the least.
Tony was a billionaire so perhaps his standards were too unreasonable. Even so though, the Parker’s old place had been much bigger. But who was he to judge?
A small table below the window with a couple of mismatched chairs made up the majority of the sitting area, with a half wall separating it from the view of Peter’s bed. The kitchenette was modest but sufficient, the countertops of which were free from the clutter of the several stacked dishes and takeout pizza boxes that Peter had sheepishly cleared away upon their arrival. A contraption more resembling a warped mutilation of wireframes and heating elements than a traditional toaster resided next to a microwave that looked a bit like a relic from the 70s.
“Its, uh, a nice place you’ve got here?”
Damn it, why did that sound like a question.
Peter lowered the coffee he’d been sipping at and raised an eyebrow at him. A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Probably feels just like the penthouse, huh?”.
“Alright, no need to get sassy.”
“You’re right, penthouse’s got nothing on this”.
“Har har, kid”.
“This wood here? Italian maple.”
“Naturally.”
“That toaster is actually designer.”
“Would the designer be you?”
“Might’ve missed my true calling in life. It’s a masterpiece.”
“It’s a fire hazard.”
“I’ll have you know it’s only combusted the once and the toast was still edible.”
That earned a laugh from him. “And the microwave?”
“A gift from Mrs. Rodriguez down the hall after she bought a new one. Pretty sure she just got tired of having to bring me over to hers to fix it.”
“And deprive herself of the company of a young man?”
“She’s sixty-seven, always grumpy, and seems to be convinced I’m gonna rifle through her shit if she takes her eyes off me.”
“Language.” Tony chimed in reflex.
“I’m an adult you know, I’m allowed to swear.”
An adult. Wasn’t that just a sobering thought.
Peter must have felt it too as he let the careful stream of banter fade out into silence. In unison, they both took a sip of coffee.
It was an awkward sort of quiet, charged with too much left unsaid. Tony grounded himself with the warmth from the mug in his hand and savoured the bitter taste of the drink before clearing his throat.
“So, me first or you?”
They had to start some how.
A tightness that had previously loosened from Peter’s face returned somewhat. “You first,” he said as he set his mug back down onto the very-obviously-not-Italian-maple table. “I need to know.”
What exactly he needed to know was left unsaid but, at the same time, was entirely obvious.
Tony thought for a second on how exactly to go about explaining his situation and in doing so realised how much of it he still didn’t understand himself. Ever since he’d come back he’d been running with a single minded focus and now that he was reflecting back he could feel the familiar beat of his anxiety rising in the background. What if this was just temporary? What if there was some catch? Was any of this even real or just some insane rendition of the afterlife?
A quick glance up to the kid before him broke him from his rising doubts however. Peter deserved some answers.
So Tony explained.
The best he could anyway. He recounted the basics of what he remembered from the Echo, feeling a bit like a raving lunatic as he did so. Despite the fact that it sounded like he was describing some sort of long-winded science fiction plot, Peter didn’t interrupt once, merely listening with rapt attention.
“And next thing I know, I’m back in the land of the living. Or, well, Manhattan, so the land of the living-dead. From there I spent the day trying to get my bearings and track you down.”
At that, Peter blinked, seemingly brought back to the present. “You were looking for me?” Something in his eyes brightened at the idea.
“Well, kid, it was either you or Stephen Strange. Wasn’t a hard choice. I mean I did try to contact Pepper and Happy first but I couldn’t get a hold of them.”
An odd expression flickered across the kid’s face at the mention of Strange but was quickly masked. Huh… he made a quick mental note to come back to that later.
“So… do you think it’s permanent? That you’re here to stay?”
Trust the kid to ask for reassurance on the very thing he’d just being doubtful of himself.
“I can’t say for sure, but it seems like it at least. At any rate I’m more alive than I was yesterday so I call that a win.”
Peter’s head nodded in agreement as his eyes narrowed in focus.
“Do you think… I mean – if it was possible for you – do you think…” Peter trailed off but Tony’s eyes widened slightly as he realised what he was referring to.
“No Pete, ” he told him softly, “I don’t think anyone else could come back.” There was no use in getting the kid’s hopes up and frankly Tony was kicking himself for not predicting that particular train of thought sooner. “In fact I’m pretty sure the only reason I could come back at all was because I was the one to use the stones.”
The only reply he got was a soft sigh of acceptance.
He paused for a second before continuing. “I heard about May. I’m sorry Peter.”
“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay it just kinda is but I’m getting used to it. And I should’ve expected that it wasn’t possible, I guess. Still, this whole situation is so weird that I couldn’t help but wonder.”
“I can’t blame you for that.”
And truly he couldn’t. He remembered how he was when his own parents had died. Before he started drinking himself stupid, he recalled questioning everything; if they were sure it was the right car, if it had really been them inside it, if they were really brain dead. They had never let him see the bodies or scene of the accident (for reasons he now knew) and for a while a powerful paranoia had brewed in the place of those solid answers. Denial, Rhodey had pointed out to him. First stage indeed – although it hadn’t hit as hard as the anger he’d felt towards his father afterwards or the depression he’d later fallen into.
“I missed you.”
Tony blinked. The abrupt change in topic caught him off guard just as his response caught in his throat.
“Missed you too kid,” he managed, a slight pressure behind his eyes.
“When you… when you died, everything was just so much. Everywhere I looked there were just these constant reminders of you and what happened. And everyone had all these expectations in the aftermath of the blip. That I was supposed to know how to handle everything and how to be there for everyone. Like I was some kind of leader. Like I was Steve Rogers or you. They all just expected me to be the next Iron Man while I was still grieving the old one. Ever since May died too I just missed you both so much. So many times I just wished I could ask how I’m supposed to do everything. Anything. If I had you back then, then maybe…”
Peter trailed off, shifting his focus from the cup he’d been steadfastly staring at to meet Tony’s eyes.
“Why now?”
He couldn’t get over how tired the kid sounded.
“I wish I knew exactly, Pete. So much of the ‘why’ behind the whole thing went over my head and there’s a weird multi-dimensional deity that I definitely want more words with but I don’t think we’re gonna get those answers. Just… know that I’m…” At a loss for words he took a sip of his coffee. Black, exactly the way he liked it. “I’m here now. What I do want to find out though is what the hell happened with you.”
It was now Peter’s turn to fumble, unsure of where to start.
“Okay easy question, “ Tony tried instead, “why the setup here? I know for a fact Happy could set you up somewhere better. Real toaster included.”
Peter winced. “Short answer? He has no idea who I am. I haven’t seen him in over a year.”
Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath in.
And let it out.
“And it’s not just Happy is it?”
A shake of the head.
“I’m gonna need an explanation.”
No matter which way he looked at the situation, he couldn’t come up with any answers. He needed to know what had happened to seemingly erase any record of his protégé from both public memory and digital presence.
“Okay, uh, so I guess it all started with this guy Quentin Beck – ”
“Quentin Beck. Beck – why does that sound familiar.”
“He actually used to work for you.”
“Wait that one crazy guy that sent me threats after the BARF showcase?”
Peter’s mouth twitched. “He wasn’t a fan of the name.”
“Guy had no humour.”
“Anyway, yeah him. There was this whole ordeal with him where he manipulated me into giving him EDITH –” “– You gave him EDITH?” “– and long story short –” “– Just handed over a multi-billion dollar intelligence system?” “– long story short he had all these drones attacking London while he used BARF to make himself out to be the hero. I stopped him but in the end he ended up framing me for the whole thing. Then he revealed my identity. That’s why I went to Ste – Dr. Strange for help.”
Tony was beginning to see where this was going. “So it was on purpose then? Making everyone forget?” He asked, somewhat exasperated. But that couldn’t be right. There’s no way the kid would be okay with erasing himself completely.
“Shit, it – its kinda complicated from there. I really just wanted for everyone to forget that I was Spider-Man but the spell got messed up – I messed it up. Then there were these dudes from a different dimension – ” At that he cut himself off, his eyes lighting up with an excitement that Tony recognised from suit upgrades and new web fluid recipes. “Tony, it’s insane, the multiverse theory is real can you believe it? Alternate worlds with slight variations between them. I even met two versions of myself!”
“Well shit.” Tony replied in amazement. “Time travel, Norse gods, aliens. Multiverses – why not.” Three Peter Parkers though. That would be something. “What were they like?”
“They were like me but different. Like they looked different, older. They were both Spider-Man too – one of them even had organic webs that shot straight out of his wrists!”
Peter laughed at the face he pulled. “Okay yeah it sounds gross but it was super cool trust me. Oh and their worlds have no Avengers, can you imagine? Like I wonder if that means that you all exist in those worlds but just aren’t superheroes or if you were never born. What do you think an alternate you would be like? I mean my alternate selves were still Spider-Man but they also liked science like I do too so do you think an alternate you would still like engineering even if you never ended up being Iron Man?”
A smile, probably horribly dopey and genuine, pulled at Tony’s mouth and he was hopeless to stop it. This was the kid he risked everything to bring back. There was that fast-speaking stream of consciousness filled with curiosity and a fascination that never failed to make Tony’s day just a little bit better.
Peter babbled on a bit more with his alternate universe related speculation until he caught himself. “Anyway where was I?”
“Spell went wrong. Alternate universe Peters.”
“Ah yeah. It wasn’t just more of me though. When the spell went wrong it pulled individuals from other worlds into our own. Specifically, it was individuals who knew that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Whether that be Peter Parker or…”
“Peter Parker’s allies,” Tony grimaced, “or enemies.”
“Yeah we didn’t get too lucky. So there were these villains. A lizard guy. A guy made of sand – he wasn’t too bad actually for the most part.” Peter started ticking off of his fingers as he counted. “This zappy lightning guy. A guy with four additional mechanical tentacle limbs. He ended up helping us in the end. And there was, um. A guy called Norman.”
What? A random guy called Norman. Tony was tempted to ask but something in Peter’s expression stopped him. Instead he waited until Peter continued, his tone more subdued than before.
“I was supposed to send them back, but the thing is that I’d be sending them to their deaths back in their own worlds. And it really wasn’t even their fault. They were all victims of accidents, or experiments gone wrong. And if I could find a way to cure them before sending them back…”
“They might’ve survived.” Tony finished for him.
“Yeah. So I didn’t send them back straight away. And because of that May –” Peter coughed. “One of the guys, Norman, he attacked. And May died. And, God, it just hurt so much knowing it was because of my choices.”
“Peter it wasn’t –”
“I – I know. I beat myself up over it for a long time. But I know now that, if she could choose again, she would always choose to help me. And she’d always want me to help others.”
“She was a smart woman.”
Peter smiled. Small but genuine. “She was. She told me that with great power there must also come great responsibility.”
“Huh.” It was a simple phrase but something about it resonated deeply.
“Yeah.” With misty eyes, Peter cleared his throat. “Then with the other Peters’ help, we managed to cure the others. But then, it’s hard to explain, but the magic thingy that was going to let us send them all to their universes got destroyed and the spell started getting unstable. Long story short, the only way to stop the multiverse collapsing in on itself was to make it so that everyone forgot Peter Parker. No exceptions. Like he never existed.”
Tony thought for a second about what that would mean. No Ned or MJ. No Happy. Or Pepper for that matter. No school records. Hell, no legal records. No wonder the kid was living in a tiny shitty apartment. No bank account. No exceptions probably meant that Strange would’ve forgotten too. Tony could’ve strangled the cryptic cape-wearing bastard.
“Shit, Pete. I’m so sorry.”
“It is what is it is. I moved on. Managed to fake a few records and worked to get my GED. Picked up a few small jobs – I get free pizzas now so that’s cool.” The look on the kid’s face turned far too bitter and contrite. “It was my fault what happened. My stupid idea in the first place, all because my friends and I weren’t going to be able to go to MIT like we planned…”
He was quiet for a moment. Lost in thought.
“They got accepted there, in the end. I was going to try tell them… try remind them… but they looked so happy and I just –”
Tony had never been an overly physical person. He much preferred to show affection through witty banter and thoughtful gestures. Some new Widow Bite upgrades here, some custom hearing aids there. A hulk proof training room and a pantry stocked perfectly for a super-soldier fuelled diet. He had gotten significantly better since having Morgan around however. And so he didn’t hesitate before moving around the table to scoop a choked up Spider-kid into his arms.
There was a slight delay before a pair of unsure hands timidly returned the hug. He made sure to tightened his embrace in reassurance.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry that you’ve been alone for, shit, like a year and a half.”
“Since when were you a hugger?” A mumbled voice spoke up from below Tony’s chin. He decided to play nice and allow the obvious attempt at a change in topic.
“Probably since a Spider-kid turned to dust in my arms.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Meh, I’ve had my own dramatic death since then. Seems fair.”
That earned a snort of disbelief that almost turned into a laugh. Something deep in his chest unravelled at the sound.
“Can we just… stay like this for a while?”
Tony thought about how long it’d been since Peter had probably last had a hug before today.
“Sure kid. As long as you want.”
*
Time seemed to pass quickly after that.
After having a decent hug and cry session they decided to try and brainstorm together as to how they’d be able to reintroduce Tony into society without causing complete public pandemonium.
(“Do you reckon I could pass as my own evil twin?”
“Why would you have to be evil?”
“Just seems more fun that way.”)
They didn’t get very far in the end.
*
Tony sat and listened as Peter regaled him with stories about gooey black alien symbiotes, silver haired cat-burglars and men with face changing technology. It seemed like the last year and a half had truly been keeping Spider-Man busy.
“What about you? What’s been on the menu for Peter Parker.”
Peter huffed. “Work mostly. I’ve been working on a few projects on the side to help me apply for a scholarship but mainly I’ve been juggling jobs. You’ve no idea how hard it is to keep a job when Spider-Man keeps needing to jumping into burning buildings or stop a car chase.”
“Surely Spider-Man can take a break from those things though?”
The kid just smiled.
“With great power.”
And Tony understood.
*
Peter showed Tony the new suit he’d handcrafted – a bit flimsier and more than a bit less advanced than the original Stark suit but Tony had to admit the design had merit.
“I like the new emblem. Kinda edgy but I guess if that’s the spooky spider-vibe you’re going for who am I to knock it.”
“MJ used to say the old one looked more like a tick than a spider.”
“A tick?”
“This design was kinda inspired by the other Peters’ suits. Feels like I’ve got their support, y’know?”
“No, I’m sorry, a tick!?”
*
“So what’s this I hear about you selling your own selfies to the Bugle.”
“They’re hardly selfies, Tony.”
“Potato, potahto, Parker. What gives? The Bugle hates superheroes.”
“Yup. And Spider-Man especially. That just means that they’re the ones willing to spend the most money for good photos. A lot of other photographers refuse to work for them.”
“A lot of other photographers have dignity and morals.”
“A lot of other photographers already have enough money to put food on the table.”
“Touché.”
“Anyway, I asked Spider-Man. He said he’s cool with it.”
“Ah.”
*
“You can stay here for a few days. At least until you get back on your feet to get in contact with Pepper. There’s a sleeping bag at the top of the closet.”
“Good to know I won’t have to break my spotless record of never sleeping on the streets.”
“Rhodey already told me about that one time in college.”
“Damn it.”
*
“So is Steve really on the moon?”
“You know what, I have no idea.”
“Huh.”
*
As he laid back that night, the thin material of the sleeping bag not quite disguising the unforgiving hardness of the wooden floor and the soft breathing of a gently snoozing Spider-not-quite-a-kid echoing down from up on the bed, Tony thought about everything that was to come.
He’d eventually have to break the news to Pepper and Morgan. Pep was a trooper; he’d put her through enough shit in the past to know that however she reacted at first, she’d push past it and move forward afterwards. She was reliable like that.
Morgan though might find the whole situation more upsetting. It hurt him to know that she’d had to grieve the loss of her dad at such a young age and to all of a sudden have him reappear could definitely be a challenge.
They’d get through it though. With a lot of cuddles. And therapy.
He was looking forward to seeing Happy again too. The man would blubber worse than Morgan no doubt.
Rhodey would likely slap him on the back and huge him close to hide the tears in his own eyes.
And Peter.
He would sort things out for Peter. Whatever the kid needed.
Forge some documents, build up a history of citizenship, open a bank account (fill it with a high enough digit number), get the kid a Stark Industries apprenticeship – or a recommendation, whatever he wanted.
Reintroduce him to Pep and Happy. Make them remember. Probably track down Ned and that Michelle girl while he’s at it…
A slight shift in the cadence of the snoring above him distracted him from his train of thought.
Peter had been through so much. It certainly wasn’t fair by any means but Tony knew well how life worked. The hand you’re dealt could suck, but it’s the only one you’re gonna get. Everything from then on was about making the most of it. Peter had been knocked down far too often; his parents, his uncle and now his aunt. And then he’d lost everything else too.
And yet he still got back up and kept going.
At least now Tony could lend him a hand.
“Goodnight, kid.” He whispered.
They were going to be just fine.