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Chapter Text

The boat they’re in is only half full, because Magic Kingdom closes in forty five minutes and most people who wanted to ride Pirates of the Caribbean have done it already. Everyone but Peter and Tony, in fact, had absolutely no interest in going on the ride—May and Happy were sharing a bag of churros, MJ and Ned were waiting in line for Dole Whip, and Pepper had ominously turned the offer down, reminding Tony that she got stuck on Pirates when she was young.

So when the boat comes to an abrupt halt, Peter tries not to read too much into it. They drift a little back and forth but stay in one spot, not moving forward solidly like they had been a moment before. They’re in a room that’s a town on fire, all the pirates drinking and singing the “Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me” song over and over again. The boat in front of them is also stopped, but under the bridge that’s ahead.

Tony hums to himself and looks around.

“Is this part of it?” Peter asks, following his gaze. “Stopping?”

“Uh, well, this thing is a million years old,” Tony says, facing forward again. There’s a small frown line appearing between his eyes but he smiles when he looks down at Peter. “They tend to start and stop a lot, part of the…charm…” He clears his throat and sinks down a little bit. “It’s fine. Completely fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Peter says, sinking down a little bit too so he and Tony are shoulder to shoulder. “Disney is like, a multibillion dollar company, I’m sure they have fail safes when the rides malfunction.”

“You’d be surprised how many multibillion dollar companies are run like your local Target,” Tony says.

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me.

“But either way,” Tony continues, waving his hand through the air. “It’s totally not malfunctioning, it’s just…it is what it is, it’s fine.”

“It’s fine,” Peter repeats.

They’re the only two in the last row and there’s one three person family in front of them, a young couple, and a father and son dressed like Goofy and Pluto. Peter keeps trying not to burp up the three giant hot dogs he ate all on his own, and he still has part of his pretzel shoved in his pocket.

“What’s been your favorite so far?” Tony asks. “Remember, if you’re disappointed in anything we’ve still got three more days to make it right.”

Peter grins at him, shaking his head. “Mr. Stark, I’m not—I’m not disappointed in anything, it’s been awesome!”

Peter came back from the dead three months ago. The remaining heroes got together, their shared anger and loss fueling them, and they solved an unsolvable problem. They set the world right, they killed the big crazy purple guy, and brought everybody back. Peter doesn’t like to think about what happened, where he was—because he wasn’t anywhere. He doesn’t know if he was dead, because he was just gone, no cloudy place, no reuniting with Ben and his parents. Just nothing. A big old blank spot that chills his bones and wakes him up at night. The kind of terror he didn’t think he’d ever know. A few moments after he came back he broke down, trembled and shook so hard that Tony could barely hold him, could barely get him to focus, could barely bring him back even though he’d already brought him back, physically.

Being dead can really mess a guy up.

So when things started to get back to normal, Tony planned a trip to Disney World. One they’d wanted to take before the world ended but never got around to, but as soon as things were settled, he planned it and made sure it happened. Peter had never been to Disney, and even though he figured he was getting to be a little old for it, he still wanted to go. Tony wanted to do something nice, something fun, something normal. He’s been hanging on Peter’s every word, making sure he’s present at every important event, and nowadays Tony considers a school day an important event. Peter can’t say he’s bothered by any of it—it makes him feel safer to have Tony around, he’s getting to do a lot of fun shit, and he’s hanging out with the Avengers more than he ever expected to in his entire life. And he never expected to hang out with them at all, so playing Mario Kart with Captain America and Black Widow every Tuesday is really, really cool.

Everything Tony’s been doing has been keeping Peter’s mind off what happened, which he knows is the point. And it’s exactly what he needs, because when his mind starts to wander, he starts to fall back into that moment. Before there were no more moments at all.

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

“You sure?” Tony asks, nudging into him a little bit.

“Definitely,” Peter says. “I loved Splash Mountain, I loved how much Ned screamed on Splash Mountain—”

“And how embarrassed he was afterwards,” Tony says, chuckling. “I’ve heard a lot of people shriek, but that—”

“It was great,” Peter says, smiling.

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

Tony huffs, looking around. “This has been—a good amount of time, that we’ve been sitting here,” he says. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, you don’t know?” Peter asks.

“What?”

“This is my favorite song,” Peter says, grinning.

Tony smiles, scoffing. “Well, if I have to listen to it for more than five minutes, I’m gonna need to be as drunk as that pirate wearing the sombrero over there.”

~

“Peter,” Tony says, tapping on his phone screen. “Do you have any bars? I got nothing, zilch.”

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

It’s been half an hour. The pirates are still singing. The little boy in front of them is only behaving marginally better than Tony, who is close to jumping into the water and swimming out of here. It does feel a little bit like a form of torture, and Peter wonders when it’s gonna end. They haven’t been stuck on anything yet, though A Small World did give them a little scare.

“Oh, uh, I left my phone with MJ,” Peter says, gritting his teeth.

Tony flashes him a look that’s full of confusion and a little bit of betrayal. “You left your phone with your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my—”

“Your future girlfriend, c’mon, Pete, gimme a little credit, you’re not exactly subtle—”

Peter laughs, blushing. “Okay.”

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out.”

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

Peter snorts and then the lights flicker and dim, but the singing continues.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says. “What kind of nightmare fuel is this shit?”

Peter covers his face and tries not to laugh. It isn’t funny, it really sucks, but how much Tony hates it is kinda making it funny. Just a little funny. Tony turns on the flashlight on his phone and shines it in Peter’s face.

“Are you laughing at me, Mr. Parker?” Tony asks.

“No,” Peter says, and he’s actually laughing now, covering his whole face to get away from Tony’s light. “Maybe.”

Tony turns the light off and sighs again.

“Are you scared of this ride, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, elbowing him in the ribs a little bit.

“I am not scared,” Tony declares. “I am extremely irritated that we’re stuck in here when we’re supposed to be having a perfect post-saving the world vacation, we had a reservation at that place you wanted to go to in downtown Disney and if this shit keeps on—”

“Tony,” Peter says. He watches as Tony quickly stops talking, because whenever he refers to him by his first time he usually shuts up and listens. Peter grins, and makes sure to line up with the pirates, who are still singing. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.”

Tony’s whole face falls and he stares at him, narrowing his eyes. He looks straight ahead and scoots away a little bit, towards the edge of the boat. “You know what? Fine, you enjoy this. Enjoy the impromptu concert, you like the song so much—”

Peter starts laughing so hard he can barely breathe, and the lights come up, though a little dimmer than they were before. “Okay, I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist—”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

Peter pushes Tony’s shoulder a little bit and receives a grunt in response. “What’s your favorite ride here?” Peter asks.

“This, previously, was my favorite ride,” Tony says, holding his hands out in a grand gesture at the burning town around them. “But now, I have no favorite ride. I need to rethink my favorite, because this one betrayed me.”

Peter snorts again.

~

It has been one hour and forty seven minutes. There have been two identical announcements, which only said PLEASE EXCUSE THE DELAY. THE RIDE WILL RESUME SHORTLY. They were received with a good amount of mocking from Tony. Peter, strangely, isn’t too frustrated by all this. Tony’s reactions are all really, really funny, and it’s also really nice that Tony cares this much to try and make the trip perfect. The trip is already perfect by the fact that the trip even exists, by the fact that he’s here with Tony, his family, his best friends.

By the fact that he’s here. And like, not dead.

The song is definitely stuck in his head now.

Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me

“Okay, so if we rock the boat, there may be a possibility of it getting off the track, and then we can just paddle it all the way through the rest of the ride,” Tony says, talking to the other people in their boat.

“But you’re Iron Man,” the young father says. “Can’t you do something better than that?”

“Do I look like Iron Man right now?” Tony asks, touching his chest. He’d taken the nanotech housing unit out for the trip, which Peter is sure he regrets right about now. Peter is having a really hard time not bursting into tears from laughing so hard. “Do you see a suit anywhere?” Tony keeps on. “I wasn’t expecting to get into any kind of situation that warranted having a suit on standby, but I also didn’t expect to want to tear the Pirates ride apart from the inside.”

He stops, and it’s like a light bulb goes off in his head. “Wait a second, I have—I can try something.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out something that looks like a Swiss army knife, and he pops out a screw driver.

“Uh, Mr. Stark—” Peter starts, but Tony just waves a hand in his direction as he stands, quickly climbing over the bench in front of them, rocking the boat. The other people holler a little bit and Peter grits his teeth, watching him, wondering if he should help.

“There’s gotta be a control panel or something in the front here,” Tony says, once he’s in the first row. He leans over awkwardly, hands splaying over the front of the boat, patting it and hitting it all over.

“SIR,” a disembodied voice from above says. “SIR, PLEASE REMAIN SEATED.”

“I can fix it!” Tony yells, looking up. “I’m a mechanic, I’m good with this kind of—”

“SIR, PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR SEAT.”

“Mr. Stark, can I help?” Peter asks, getting up too.

“No, kid, I can—listen!” he yells, looking up again. “Do you know who I am? I have a lot of experience with—”

“TONY STARK,” the voice says. “PLEASE…PLEASE RETURN TO YOUR SEAT.”

Peter sits back down and he tries really, really hard not to laugh again. He watches Tony wilt, glaring up the ceiling, and then he starts his trek back, shaking his head when the young father looks at him. He plops back down next to Peter and crosses his arms over his chest like an angry child.

“It’s okay,” Peter says.

“It’s not okay,” Tony says. “It’s very far from okay.”

“I bet it’s not even a problem with the boats,” Peter says. “It’s probably, like—something with the overall ride.”

Then the lights flicker again and Tony sighs dramatically. The next thing that happens is worse, though—all the pirates start moving really, really slowly, like they’re marching through tar, and their voices get deep and mechanical.

YO…..HO…….YO….HO……A….PIRATE’S…..LIFE….FOR….ME

“Oh. My God.”

“Alright,” Peter says, his eyes wide. “Alright, yeah, that’s…that’s creepy.” He watches as Tony grips the screw driver so tight his fingers are turning white. “Uh, lemme just—lemme just hold onto that for you,” Peter says, prying it out of his hand. So you don’t stab yourself with it he doesn’t say.

“I cannot believe I have no service in here,” Tony says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring at it, like that’ll do something. “That should be illegal, I swear to God. Even if I did wanna summon a suit and rip this place to kingdom come, I wouldn’t be able to in this goddamn dead zone.”

“We live here now,” Peter says, looking at Tony.

“We do,” Tony says, meeting his eyes. “We live here. This is our life now. We gotta steal some booze from that guy over there that looks like Mr. Bean so we’ll survive.”

Peter grins at him. “I still have part of that pretzel.”

“Oh, what, were you hoarding it? Break that thing out.”

Peter does, ripping it in half and handing part of it to Tony. He takes a bite, and it still tastes as good as it did earlier.

“Awesome,” Tony says, chewing. “Now we’ve added another hour to our survival time.”

Peter laughs. “I’ve eaten so much today I could probably live on it for weeks. Even with my metabolism.”

“Yeah, I saw you with that funnel cake,” Tony says. “Took a video of you with that funnel cake.”

“Don’t show it to anyone,” Peter says.

“Oh, I…will.”

Peter shakes his head at him.

“I hate waiting for shit like this,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “It feels…stupid, to just sit and wait when I am who I am, when you are who you are.” He says the second part low and under his breath, because still, after everything, the public doesn’t know who Spiderman is, and Tony has become a lot more insistent on keeping it that way. “We’ve definitely missed our reservation.”

Peter understands the look in Tony’s eyes. “I don’t like to be trapped, either,” he says.

“Yeah, kid,” Tony says. “I know you don’t, I don’t blame you. But this, in particular, feels dumb as hell. The only reason I’m not walking out right now is because everybody would follow me and there could be any number of diseases looming in these waters.”

“I’m sure it’ll be soon,” Peter says, rubbing his face. “The park is even closed already.”

“I’m sure Pepper and May insisted in staying inside,” Tony says. “They’re probably both dismantling Cinderella’s Castle brick by brick as we speak.”

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose. The weird slow motioning singing is kinda giving him a headache.

“You okay, Pete?” Tony asks, leaning closer.

“Yeah,” Peter says. Everything feels kinda loud and painful.

YO…..HO…….YO….HO……A….PIRATE’S…..LIFE….FOR….ME

“You’ve been doing really good, since, uh—you know. All of it,” Tony says. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too,” Peter says, without thinking. He clears his throat and looks up at Tony again, a little static in his eyes, now. “I know how hard it all was—”

“I’m not worried about me,” Tony says, with the kind of care and concern that’s been more present since Peter came back to life.

“I’m okay,” Peter says, managing a smile. “I swear. I’m here, we’re in Disney World—”

“We are slowly merging with the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” Tony says, and Peter snorts. “Soon we’ll be pirates too. Make sure you get a good hat.”

Peter grins, looking down at their feet. The boat is rocking slowly, like it could pick up and start moving any second. “But for real,” Peter says, swallowing the lies and the panic that still lives inside him. “I’m good, I’m really—I’m fine.”

Tony narrows his eyes at him like he knows better, but he doesn’t push it.

YO…..HO…….YO….HO……A….PIRATE’S…..LIFE….FOR….ME

“But if we’re stuck in here for twenty more minutes,” Peter says. “I’m definitely gonna….go a little crazy.”

“Alright,” Tony says, knocking him on the arm. “Good, a time limit. Thanks, I know you’re doing that for me, to give me a reason to throw a big fit and march out of here, I appreciate it.”

Peter grins at him. “No problem.”

~

Nineteen minutes go by. They play twenty questions, and Peter finds out Tony watches way too much Ancient Aliens, loves rice pudding and likes Universal more than he likes Disney. The pirate song is becoming part of Peter’s soul now, his core code, and he knows he’s gonna hear this warped distorted version for the next hundred years. It’ll live inside his eardrums.

Tony is watching his watch tick down when the employees wade in wearing bright yellow boots. Peter feels crazy for a second, like he’s hallucinating them, but Tony and the rest turn to look too.

“What in fresh hell…” Tony trails off.

“Hello everybody!” the first employee says, way too cheery for this situation. “We’re going to pull your boats off to the side, you’re going to disembark, and then you’re going to follow us.”

“Uh, we could have done that three days ago when the boats first stopped,” Tony says. The guy’s false Disney demeanor instantly falters when he sees who he’s talking to, and Tony grins. “Hi, hello, yeah. You’ve trapped Tony Stark in your Disney dungeon, I hope you’re happy. The evil ceiling voice knew, you shoulda known.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the employee says.

Tony looks back at Peter and sighs, looking back at the employee again. “I know it’s not your fault, let’s just—let’s just get this show on the road, shall we?”

“Finally,” Peter says, as the guy starts hauling the boat over to the side, lashing it to a stake close to the edge of the pirate village. Tony gets out as soon as they’re able to, stretching out his legs and groaning and holding out a hand for Peter to take. He pulls Peter up onto solid ground and Peter laughs, breathless. It’s so weird, they’re standing inside the ride where they’re not supposed to be. He’s done a lot of crazy shit in his life but somehow, this feels insane to him.

“Okay, real quick, pose over here next to the dying pirates,” Tony says, taking Peter by the shoulders and positioning him in front of the burning scene. Peter puts his thumbs up and grins and Tony snaps a couple pictures, nodding his approval. “Perfect.”

“Selfie,” Peter says. “I want a selfie of both of us.”

“Of course you do, okay,” Tony says, walking over next to him. They both put up peace signs at the same time without talking about it first. Tony takes a couple pictures before clapping Peter on the shoulder and rushing to catch up with the employee.

“We’re going backstage!” Peter gasps, looking around as they start down a stairwell, going behind the set and leaving the hellish singing behind.

“Not good enough retribution for our pain and suffering,” Tony says, hovering behind the employee that’s leading them. “So what do we get? Do I own Disney World now? Because I deserve that. I’d make improvements. Iron Man ride. Pirates song removed entirely for the guests’ mental health.”

“Should be fast passes at least,” Peter says.

“The park is closed,” the employee says, carefully. “So, unfortunately—”

“Unfortunately?” Tony interrupts. “Unfortunately—I’ll only be able to own Epcot? That unfortunately?”

The employee just laughs, but he looks nervous.

Tony is nearly fuming.

“Mr. Stark, it’s okay, I don’t care,” Peter says. “Look, this is so cool, we’re backstage! Disney never lets anybody backstage.”

“Yeah, unless they leave them in a pit of despair for over two hours,” Tony says.

Peter looks around, gaping. It isn’t really much to see, just a bunch of mechanical stuff and some trash cans and dark walls, but it’s cool getting a look behind the curtain. They go down another set of stairs and out a door. They wind up in a big parking lot, where some of the big floats from the parade are sitting and waiting. There’s a big dragon that looks like the one from Sleeping Beauty, and a really big colorful carpet from Aladdin.

Tony’s phone comes to life, buzzing and beeping over and over again. He looks down at it. “Alright, they’re waiting outside the park, right at the gate—Pepper is livid.”

“Bet May is too,” Peter laughs.

“Jeff from Columbus City,” Tony says, close to the employee’s ear. “I commend you for your rescue, you can always say you rescued Iron Man now, but I’m definitely gonna be calling Bob Iger up in a bit here. I don’t wanna be that customer, but I expect at least a hundred balloons in my suite to make up for the past two hours of hell.”

Jeff from Columbus City laughs awkwardly.

“You don’t want balloons,” Peter says to him, as Jeff leads them over to a sidewalk and over to a fence.

“Yeah, but you’d like it,” Tony says. “Ned and MJ would like it.”

“Tony,” Peter says, and Tony shuts up again. Peter grins at him. It’s definitely good to know that works almost every time. He sucks in a breath. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.”

“Oh my God—” Tony pushes him away.

Peter laughs, rushing to catch up with him and grabbing his arm.

“No!” Tony yells, pointing at him.

“—we pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot—”

“—you do not deserve—one single balloon—”

“—drink up, me hearties, yo ho, yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me—”

“Parker. You are fired,” Tony says, glaring at him as they walk through the fenced in door.

“From what?” Peter asks, laughing.

“Everything. All the things.”

Peter grins. “Not from singing! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me—”

“Oh my God.”

Chapter Text

Peter doesn’t feel natural behind the wheel of a car. He hasn’t since he literally flipped Flash’s car on Homecoming night—before that he’d only inched along in the Riverland parking lot with May, and after that, after the world was set right, Tony decided to take up the mantle and teach Peter how to drive. May seemed relieved, and Peter didn’t know which one of them was scarier to him—May, who’d grab onto the ‘emergency handle’ whenever he took a corner too fast, Tony, who’d literally cover his mouth to keep from yelling whenever Peter would make a mistake, or Peter himself, who was really just…a bad driver.

It wasn’t his main priority, like a lot of the kids in his school. Ned was a natural, of course, and got his license immediately. And as soon as Tony realized Peter was putting it off, he started letting him get into the driver’s seat in whatever car he’d bring to pick him up. It made Peter more nervous than flying around as Spiderman—New York drivers are insane. A different breed of people who beeped at every little thing and yelled out their windows, but Tony always held up his middle finger and yelled right back, which made happiness curl in Peter’s chest.

And today’s the day. Today’s the day of his driver’s test, and he feels like he’s gonna go off the rails. He bends over outside the DMV, sucking in a deep breath, and he feels Tony’s hand on his back.

“Kid, you gonna puke?” Tony asks. “We haven’t even gone inside yet.”

“I’m not gonna puke,” Peter says, rubbing his hand over his chest, feeling his heart flutter and rage.

“It’s gonna be fine, Pete,” Tony says, rubbing his shoulder. “You think I would have made an appointment if I didn’t think you were ready?”

Peter sucks in a breath, standing up straight, and Tony is looking at him in concern.

“The subway takes me everywhere,” Peter says. “I totally don’t need a license.”

“Remember the other day when you were trapped for an hour because some woman puked or whatever the hell?” Peter makes a face and Tony laughs. “Yeah, thought so. Transporting yourself is a good way to avoid all that nonsense, and your own car wouldn’t smell like human urine on a daily basis.”

Peter groans, looking at the building that looms beside them.

“You want me to reschedule?” Tony asks, moving around in front of Peter so he can look him in the eye. “Because I can, it kinda looks like this place is, uh—overrun today.”

“No,” Peter says, fast. “I already put it on Facebook that I’m doing it today.”

“Oh, right,” Tony says, nodding. “Binding contract, then.”

“Exactly.”

Tony laughs and Peter sees a couple girls standing behind them and gaping at them, snapping photos and trying to get other people’s attention. He knows soon enough people are gonna start questioning who Peter is because he’s always in Tony’s paparazzi pictures, and he can just see the long-lost-son headlines now.

“Alright, we got this?” Tony asks. “We good?”

“We good,” Peter lies.

“Alright.” Tony wraps his arm around Peter’s shoulders and leads him inside. They can barely get through the door because the building is so packed—it sounds like the lunch room on pizza day, and when Peter turns around to look at Tony he sees the kind of shock in his expression that so rarely presents itself there. Peter’s nervousness rises in his throat and Tony must see that, because he quickly swaps their places, getting in front of him.

“Guess this is the place to be today,” Tony says, cracking his jaw, his eyes darting around. He quickly maneuvers them into the check-in line, which is winding out into the middle of the room.

“I wonder why,” Peter says, swallowing hard.

“Everybody’s here to watch your great triumph,” Tony says, grinning at him. “The most successful parallel parkin’ kid in the universe.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “Yeah, sure. That’s gonna be the reason why I fail this thing.”

Tony quickly points at him. “No talk of failing.”

Peter’s heart is still hammering wildly and he sighs. They’re definitely not gonna make the noon appointment time, dealing with this mess. He thinks about the weeks of practice he’s had parallel parking—Tony has a lot of cars but he lets Peter use his oldest one, the one he can do the most damage to without it being some kind of major issue. Tony already put both Peter and May on his insurance, and that’s when Peter found out that Tony literally has all the Avengers, Pepper, Happy and Rhodey on his insurance already. The actual driving on the road had been fine, he veered to the left a little bit but he corrected that pretty fast, and normal parking was good. He was super good at it.

But the parallel parking. Peter knows Tony loves him, because he got so many scratches on that car and didn’t get yelled at once. Tony does a really good job with him, and sometimes it looks like he’s holding his breath to keep from freaking out. They positioned a couple of Tony’s other cars around him, and eventually realized they needed to put up plastic or rubber bumpers if they wanted to avoid an accident.

Peter helped him knock out the dents and fix the paint.

“Stop…thinking,” Tony says, knocking him in the arm. “What did we say about that? Overthinking.”

“Don’t do it.”

“Don’t do it,” Tony says, nodding. They walk up a little further in the line and Tony sighs, looking at his watch.

“I’m not keeping you, right?” Peter asks, his heart in his throat. He’s constantly worried about monopolizing too much of Tony’s time. He doesn’t want to be a burden, he knows Tony is busy and important.

“No,” Tony says, scoffing at him. “I cleared the day for this.”

Peter stares at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. I planned it all out. If you fail….which you won’t, but if you do, I’ve got the bribe money, I’ve got the smaller car ready to be driven over here, we’re good, we’re prepared.”

Peter laughs, looking down at the ground.

“But you’re not gonna fail, so we don’t even need any of that,” Tony says. “We’re just gonna go out to dinner with May and your buds, then if you want, you can come to the compound for the weekend and hang out with everybody.”

Peter gasps, looking up again. “Who all’s around?”

“Everybody,” Tony says. They step forward in line. “I finally figured out that new motion game, so I’m gonna beat the shit out of Steve and you if you’re man enough to step up.”

Peter shakes his head at him. “I only get this if I pass.”

“Yeah, so you get it. You’re gonna pass.”

Peter sighs.

~

It takes them forty five minutes to even get up to the check-in counter, where Tony presents his proof of insurance and Peter’s permit. Peter doesn’t know why this shit is making him so anxious—he can scale buildings, he’s faced death—technically, he’s beaten death, with Tony’s help—so getting his driver’s license shouldn’t be such a big deal.

The lady hands Tony back his insurance, Peter’s permit and a little piece of paper, and waves them off. They don’t even get to sit while they wait to be called up to the next counter, because all of the seats are taken up already, so Tony maneuvers them over to a spot by the wall.

“I bet you we’ll be stuck here for at least another hour,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why’d she say it was taking so long?” Peter asks. He hadn’t really been listening, because he keeps thinking too hard. Like he’s not supposed to.

“Uh, apparently it’s been like this every day since, uh—we restored the world,” Tony says, averting his eyes. “Everybody taking care of business, not wasting time—which is good. The lady said there was an eighty year old man in here getting his license for the first time because he turned to dust and came back. Didn’t wanna miss another opportunity.”

Peter sets his jaw and nods. It makes sense and it also makes him more nervous. Normally, most of the shit he and Tony do together is catered to distract him, but this is just something that’s necessary in his life, or so they tell him. He’s not distracted, he’s just nervous, and for some reason he can’t picture his life past this fucking test, the parallel parking portion in particular.

Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he remembers how to be a normal person. Like he’s trying too hard, putting on a front. He sorta wants to walk out of here right now, but they already started the process, so they’re stuck here.

“Hey,” Tony says, clapping him on the shoulder. “You know that I’m an incredible driver, right?”

Peter looks up at him. “Incredible might be an exaggeration.”

Tony holds his chin high. “Offended. I am an incredible driver. Which also means that you’re an incredible driver, because I was your teacher. You also got the Aunt May crash course in that parking lot, which is essential to success.”

Peter snorts, shaking his head.

“Did I ever tell you what happened when I went to get my license?” Tony asks.

A mechanical voice keeps calling out number combinations, like B117, L398, H939, and Peter isn’t even sure what their number is. He thinks Tony has it on a slip of paper that’s lost somewhere in his pocket.

“No,” Peter says.

“Well, Mom wanted to teach me but of course Dad couldn’t have that, so they hired this guy who’s name was Damian, he was this little Cuban guy who kinda reminded me of Cheech from Cheech and Chong—you’ve seen those movies, right?”

“Of course,” Peter says, smiling. He’s seen a lot of pictures of Tony when he was younger, most courtesy of Pepper with Tony hollering in the background, but he can’t really picture the image he’s painting here.

“So yeah, that was Damian—he was always yelling at me and we were practicing in his beat up old ford that looked like some rust machine had shit it out—and of course, me being me, I really wanted to go fast and you can’t do that when you have a license, let alone when you don’t—not Tony Stark fast—so I almost lost this guy his business, whatever, he was a dick from moment one.”

Peter laughs, watching Tony roll his eyes.

“He and I practiced for two months, it was horrifying, a nightmare, we argued back and forth all the time and Howard would always sit me down and have these ‘talks’ with me about treating Cheech right, whatever—Cheech was verbally abusive, acted like I was five years old, and yeah, sure, I sped a little bit but it was fine, it turned out fine, we only got stopped once and I never broke anything.”

“You sound like you were a terrible student,” Peter says.

“I was, sure,” Tony says, waving his hand through the air. “I was a little shit but I would have rather learned with my mom than this crotchety old dude who didn’t actually want to be there—and I failed. When I went to get my license, I completely imploded and…I failed.”

Peter’s face falls. “You failed?”

“I failed,” Tony says again. “Because my learning experience was bad. I didn’t pay attention, neither of us wanted to be there, he didn’t even teach to the test, eventually we were just—done with each other.”

Someone knocks into Peter as they walk by and Tony looks more offended by it than Peter is, readjusting them so he’s standing in front of Peter and against the rowdy crowd, which shifts and moves like a wave.

“What did you do?”

“I went back—and failed two more times.”

“Oh my God, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, covering his mouth.

“And then we had to wait like a month or something, I can barely remember. But after that, Mom taught me. And then they had to pay some kind of fee, but I finally went back and passed.”

Peter blows out a breath.

“Now, did May hire some kind of dumb traffic school drone or did she trust me with it?” Tony asks. “Someone you trust?”

“She trusted you,” Peter says, swallowing hard.

“And it was good, right?” Tony asks. “We went through everything that’s gonna be on the test, I made sure you were learning, I never yelled at you—”

“Sometimes it seemed like you wanted to,” Peter says, raising his eyebrows.

“But I never did,” Tony says, pointing at him. “And I rewarded you, and I let you have fun on the compound property so you could blow off steam somewhere safe instead of…on the road, like I did.”

Peter nods. Tony’s right. Iron Man taught him how to drive.

“So why would you fail?” Tony asks. “You know your stuff. You improved every single day, you are ready for this, Pete.”

“Right,” Peter says.

“And I know you’re ready right now and being stuck in his dumb pileup isn’t helping, but trust me…you’re gonna be good. You’re not me, you’re not an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes.

“Ah, occasionally,” Tony says, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, two seats—go for it, Parker, every man for himself.”

Peter quickly turns around and races into the aisle, hardly aware of where he’s going save for Tony steering him with hands on his shoulders. They both flop down and Tony sighs happily. Peter does feel a little bit better, and he always does when Tony shares something with him from when he was growing up. He hates everything he hears about Tony and his dad, and he wishes there was something he could do about it, some way to fix it. He wishes Howard would have been better. Tony deserves a lot more than what he got.

“Are you Tony Stark?” a shell-shocked man next to Tony asks.

“No,” Tony says, smiling at him.

He smiles back, nervously. “Are you sure?”

“Very, very sure,” Tony says, but he’s still smiling politely.

The man makes eye contact with Peter and then looks at Tony again. “I think you are,” he says.

“No, my name is Scott Lang, and I’m getting my driver’s license back after having it revoked,” Tony says.

The man narrows his eyes and just nods at him.

Tony turns back to Peter. “How long have we been stuck here? Four days? A week? I haven’t been to one of these places without jumping the line since I was eighteen years old.”

“I have no idea,” Peter says, rubbing his eyes. He feels exhausted, like he’s worked himself up into a stupor.

Y677. H723. E558.

~

“Peter. Pete, wake up. Wake up, kid.”

Peter slowly opens his eyes and has no idea where he is. He’s definitely leaning on Tony’s shoulder and he sits up, blinking.

“Oh my God,” he gasps, his throat tight. “We’re still here. We’re still in the DMV.”

“Yeah, we didn’t teleport out, I’m still working on that tech.”

Peter’s heart is raging and he rubs at his eyes, looking around. This place is still just as busy as it was, and he starts breathing harder. “Oh my God, I thought I took the test already.”

“In your dream?” Tony asks.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you do?”

“I don’t remember but you were in the backseat and the car was flying.”

“Perfect. Exactly how it’s gonna go.”

Peter braces his elbows on his knees and huffs out a breath. He’s back to being nervous again, and he has no idea how long they’ve been here. An eternity. He has no idea how to drive anymore. He doesn’t know who he is or what’s going on.

“Hey,” Tony says, a hand on his back. “Time to chill, time to relax, you’re good.”

“I’m good.”

“You’ve got this.”

“I’ve got this.”

“Iron Man is the best superhero of all time and no one else even compares.”

Peter laughs, looking up at him.

Tony clicks his tongue. “As if it would be so painful to repeat that. I know you think it.”

“Spiderman is my favorite,” a small voice says. Peter turns and sees a little girl sitting next to him—she has her hair in pigtails, a big smile on her face, and the best part…she’s wearing Spiderman sneakers.

“I’m sorry,” her mother says. “She tells everybody that, even when they aren’t talking about superheroes.”

“No, it’s okay,” Peter says, smiling down at her. “You…you think Spiderman is cool?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding dramatically. “He’s the coolest, and I’m glad he didn’t die—”

“Remember, those people didn’t die at all, they were just disappeared, but they’re back now,” the mother says. She looks up at Peter again and his heart is racing. “She was very worried about Spiderman when it all happened, but I kept telling her—the superheroes are definitely fine.” She looks past Peter and nods at Tony, a lot of emotion in her eyes. “Thank you,” she says.

“No thanks needed,” Tony says, fast. “And Spiderman is definitely A-Okay, I just saw him this morning.”

The girl’s face lights up, and so do her shoes when she swings her legs. “Really?”

“Yup,” Tony says, leaning over. “And he’s so much cooler than you even think—he could kick Iron Man’s butt any day.”

Peter really doesn’t wanna cry right now because he’s been on the verge of tears for other reasons for the hundred hours that they’ve been hanging out here, but now he’s emotional because of this kid thinking he’s cool and her adorable shoes and Tony saying nice things—

“P448,” the announcer says.

“That’s us,” Tony says, and Peter’s heart drops directly into his gut. “Good luck for whoever’s getting their license, I hope it’s you,” Tony says, pointing at the little girl as they get up.

“It’s my brother, but thank you!” the girl says.

Peter and Tony both wave at her as they head for the desk and Peter feels like he’s gonna puke again. The lady behind the counter makes him fill out his information on a really small screen and his handwriting is terrible, and then she takes his permit away from him, which makes him feel really weird.

You’re Spiderman, come on, weirdo he chastises himself in his head.

“Okay, Peter,” the woman says, deadpan. “Walk over there to that blue screen and pose for the camera.”

“Be…before the test?” he asks, looking at Tony.

“Optimism, on all counts,” Tony says, nodding at him.

Peter walks over to the screen, which is really far away, if twenty steps can be considered far.

He hears the woman ask Tony, “Is that your kid?” without any decorum or lead-up.

Tony answers, with no venom, “Sorta!”

Peter wonders if that’ll be in the papers tomorrow morning. He grins awkwardly. He groans, looking over. “Can I do that again? I know it looks stupid.” His voice breaks and he sounds twelve instead of seventeen.

“Sure,” the woman says, with a sigh.

Peter tries to relax his face and manages a natural smile.

“Much better!” Tony says.

“Alright,” the woman says, as Peter wanders back over. “Go outside and someone will be with you soon.”

“Oh my God,” Tony says, nudging into Peter’s shoulder as they turn and head for the door. “Pete, we’re getting—they’re letting us outside!”

Peter snorts, trying not to smile.

“We’re not stuck anymore. We’re unstuck! We’re escaping the DMV.” Tony pushes the door open dramatically and glares at Peter when he walks through it. “C’mon, kid, I’m trying to make you laugh, I’m going well beyond normal driving teacher duties.”

“I’ll laugh when I pass this thing,” Peter says. “Probably manically and then they’ll take it away from me.”

“I was hoping all your nervousness would have disappeared in that nap,” Tony says, putting his sunglasses back on.

“As soon as I woke up and realized where we were it just felt ten times worse,” Peter says. He turns and faces Tony. “You know I flipped a car once, right?”

Tony just stares at him. “I did…not ever need to know that.”

“Well it happened,” Peter says, sweating.

“It wasn’t my car, so it’s fine,” Tony says, sniffing.

“Peter Parker?” a woman asks, coming through the door.

“Oh God,” Peter says, his whole body on fire, panic rushing through his veins.

“Okay, kid, you got this, I promise,” Tony says, and he quickly pulls Peter into a hug, patting his back. Peter just wants to have a breakdown so he can get out of doing this but he pulls away from Tony to keep himself from losing it. He has got to chill, this isn’t supposed to be this scary. “Just trust your gut, do what she says, you’ve got this. I swear.” Tony hands him the keys.

Peter nods at him, swallowing hard, and Tony holds his thumbs up. Peter turns to the woman and can’t nod, can barely breathe as they walk through the street and over to the car. He’s panicking, feels like he’s gonna run right over the curb trying to reverse out of his parking spot. He doesn’t know how to be a real person anymore, he’s trying but he feels like he’s failing, and this is like a test of his humanity and if he fails it’s a reflection on him, on Tony, on May. It feels like it means way too damn much.

He’s blowing it out of proportion. He has got to chill.

“Just leave your door open and start the car,” the woman says, as they approach it.

“Okay,” he says, sounding terrified, and he’s so embarrassed of how he’s acting because even though these people don’t know it, he does know it—he’s Spiderman. He’s Spiderman.

He opens the door and sees there’s a small box sitting on the driver’s seat that wasn’t there before. He picks it up and opens it—it’s a key with a spider etched into it. There’s a little note and he gets into the car fast, unfolding it.

This is the key to the car that’s waiting for you at the compound WHEN you pass your driving test. Go get ‘em SM :)

“You okay, Peter?” the woman asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter says, warmth and happiness blooming in his chest as he puts the note back into the box and slips the box into his pocket. “Yeah, I’m good.”

~

“So?” Tony yells, throwing his arms out as Peter walks back up to him. “What happened? I tried to run around watching you but this place is too big—”

Peter rushes up and nearly tackles him in a hug. “I passed,” he says. “I passed, I passed.” He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it. He feels ten tons lighter. He’d nearly fainted when she told him. He thought she was kidding, even though he made the parallel park in one try.

Tony wraps his arms around him, laughing. “Awesome, Pete! I knew you would! You were being so dramatic, kid, I had no idea how to handle it—”

“I think you knew how to handle it,” Peter says, pulling back. He grabs the box out of his pocket and holds it up, shaking it so the key rattles. “You did not have to buy me a new car.”

“I did not buy you a new car,” Tony says. “I am selling you a new car. For one penny. So you better pay up.”

Peter grins, feeling just as light and happy as he did when they went to Disney World. Before and about eight hours after the Pirates incident.

“Okay, we gotta go back inside,” Peter says. “They gotta print out my license.”

“Alright,” Tony says, walking over and opening the door. “Another ten hours of waiting, hooray.”

Peter grins, his cheeks hurting. He doesn’t even care anymore. “You can pass the time by telling me how it went the first time you drove with your license,” he says.

“Oh,” Tony says, a wicked smile on his face. “Now that’s a story.”

Chapter Text

“And that is how babies are born,” Tony says, looking at his phone again as they walk out of the conference room and into the hallway.

“Robot babies,” Peter says, holding his folders close to his chest. He’d considered a briefcase but he didn’t want to look like an idiot, and he could already hear Tony making fun of him when he came up with and ultimately nixed the idea. He didn’t want to wear a backpack either, because he didn’t want to seem like a kid when he went to meet with the robot people.

He’s been trying to get these guys to come to the school for years, there’s been an extracurricular slot open for a while now and Mr. Harrington’s been on them to figure out something good. He told Tony about how he wanted to get a high end robot building group together and this company has the perfect materials and outsourcing to make it what they want it to be. Tony’s actually worked with them before, and jumped on making the appointment and essentially pleading Peter’s case.

They’d gotten the resources and the planning after Tony spoke to the board for twenty minutes. Peter had barely needed to talk, and he’s still in shock that he’s actually achieved something like this that he’s wanted since the start of his high school career. He’s been having a hard time making sense of goals he’d had before he died—it feels like a strange disconnect when he makes them, like he isn’t happy, isn’t accomplished. He just feels confused, and weirdly empty.

He’s gotta stop acting like he’s living on borrowed time. He knows he needs to go to therapy, really, really needs to go to therapy, especially since every day feels worse and worse, more terrifying, but right now he chooses to continue being stubborn and ignore the weird thoughts in his head.

He focuses on Tony. He’s been acting really weird all morning, really distracted and on his phone a lot more than he usually is when they hang out. Peter can tell something’s going on, he’s acting really weird and moody, and only seemed completely normal when he was talking to the robot people.

“You sure you’re good today?” Peter asks, watching as Tony types rapidly, walking while completely focused on his phone. “Seem like something’s…going on.”

“Nothing,” Tony says, his brow furrowed. “Uh…nothing’s going on. Only thing going on is that I just got you your…your robot thing. Congrats, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Peter says, eyeing him. He tries really hard not to look over Tony’s shoulder at his phone but he’s actually not trying that hard at all, and he sees the name Pepper at the top of the screen. “That was amazing, uh, I’m so excited—”

“Still good for lunch at Russ?” Tony asks, absentmindedly.

“Uh, yeah,” Peter says, and a whole packet falls out of his folder. “Ugh, one second,” he says, bending down to grab it. But Tony keeps walking, and Peter isn’t even sure he realizes that he’s not next to him anymore. “Mr. Stark,” he says, grabbing the packet.

He looks up just in time to watch Tony walk directly into the glass door in front of him. He hits it hard and Peter can hear it shatter—can hear bones break—and he nearly trips and falls himself trying to get to him.

“Oh my God,” Peter gasps, rushing over to where Tony is standing still.

“Holy…fuck,” Tony mutters, looking up at the glass and reaching up, touching his bloody nose. His jaw drops open and he shakes his head like he can’t believe himself, and a couple other people rush over, including the receptionist. “Uh—shit, I’ll send a check for this—I’m sorry, Jesus, glass was so clean I just—rammed right into it.”

The glass is broken where he hit it and splits about halfway down, like if it takes another hit the whole door is going to collapse.

“Mr. Stark, are you—”

“Leaving, we’re, uh—we’re leaving,” Tony says, grabbing Peter’s arm and very cautiously opening the door next to the one he ran into. “I apologize, so sorry for…the stupidity.”

He quickly ushers them both towards the main lobby and Peter stares at him as they walk, terrified of the blood that’s all over Tony’s voice. Tony shoves his phone into his pocket. “Tony,” Peter says, grabbing the arm that’s holding onto his own. “We need to like—”

Tony punches the button for the elevator when they reach it and he grits his teeth. “We’re not going to any hospital, Pete, we’re gonna to go home to Bruce and he’s gonna take care of it.”

“The compound is so far,” Peter says, anxiety rising in his chest. “You’re messed up, your nose is probably broken.”

“It is broken,” Tony says, with a sigh.

“So hospital!” Peter insists.

“No,” Tony says. “I am not walking into any hospital and telling them I ran into a fucking glass door, I’d never live that shit down. I’ve got an image to cultivate, Pete, and this kind of bullshit isn’t part of it. Not anymore.” He winces just as the elevator dings and reaches up with a trembling hand, blotting some of the blood.

Peter huffs and rushes into the elevator, watching as Tony follows him. He punches the door close button and crosses his arms over his chest.

“This is why you don’t look at your phone while you’re walking,” Tony says, standing across from him as the doors close. “This is why I’m always harassing you about that.”

Peter is having a hard time even looking at him. He’s got cuts all over his face and the lines of blood seem perfectly placed, like he’s an extra in some kind of horror movie. “You have glass in your face,” Peter says, as the doors close. He’s shaking, and his voice breaks, and Tony’s expression changes.

“Yeah, I can feel it,” Tony says, sounding exasperated.

Peter stares at him as the elevator starts moving, slowly going down from thirty floors up.

“Well come over here and help me, shit, I’m liable to shove them further in there,” Tony says, motioning for Peter to come over.

“I’ve never pulled glass out of somebody’s face,” Peter says, chewing on his lower lip as he puts his folders down by their feet. “Let alone Iron Man’s face.”

“Apparently I need to wear the suit whenever I’ll be anywhere near glass,” Tony says. “Don’t cut yourself—ugh, blood—maybe I should just—”

“No!” Peter exclaims. “I’ve got it, hold still.” Peter’s heart is raging as he reaches out, and he carefully peels out the one stuck in Tony’s forehead. “I can’t believe this.”

“I can,” Tony says. “Just feels like…decade ago Tony and not nowadays Tony…haven’t…blatantly run into anything while sober and not in a fight in a long time. Hey. Don’t cut yourself.”

“I’m not,” Peter says. He picks out two more and holds them in his palm, which Tony’s eyes keep darting down to look at.

“Okay,” Peter says, with a sigh. “I think I got—”

The elevator rattles and abruptly stops, the floor number flickering between nineteen and eighteen. Tony grabs onto Peter’s arm so he doesn’t fall backwards and then the lights flicker and go dim. They’re completely still.

“Uh….”

“Oh, no way,” Tony says. “Hey, get rid of that glass. Disease.”

“You’re not diseased,” Peter says, looking up and around. The elevator is definitely not moving. It instantly feels smaller.

“Get rid of the glass!”

Tony marches over to the control panel and starts pressing buttons, including the call button, over and over. “Christ, I am not gonna get stuck in an elevator after running into a glass door, no, this is not gonna be that kind of day.”

“Okay, listen,” Peter says, putting the glass down in a small pile on top of his folders. “We’re like—we’re superheroes, this is an elevator, we can deal with this.” He feels like he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling Tony. He definitely is.

“Right,” Tony says, pointing over at him. He looks up and around, hones in on a camera. He narrows his eyes, staring at it.

“What?”

“Just making sure it’s not on,” Tony says, glaring at it, like that’ll do anything. “Don’t want it to catch you doing any spider shit, that’s the last thing we need.”

Peter sighs. He has the inclination to start jumping up and down but he feels like Tony wouldn’t appreciate it. He guesses it probably wouldn’t help. It might jar it loose. It might. He doesn’t know. He tries to stay calm, tries not to think the words stuck or trapped. They’re fine. They’re totally fine. Except Tony isn’t really fine. Peter looks over at him again, watches as he feels all over for a control panel. “Can you, like—wipe the blood off of your face or something,” Peter says. “It’s stressing me out.”

“I’m fine,” Tony says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a handkerchief, starting to wipe at his face. He hisses a little bit but quickly stops when he sees Peter’s expression. Peter doesn’t know why Tony thinks he’s an idiot. Just because he’s Iron Man doesn’t mean he can’t get hurt. “Kid, for real, I’m good.” He puts the handkerchief away, raising his eyebrows at Peter.

“Uh-huh,” Peter says. He tries to keep centered, focused on Tony and what kind of weirdness is going on with him. “Why are you so distracted today, what’s going on? And don’t say nothing because you literally ran into a glass door and broke your nose, that’s how distracted you are.”

“It might not be broken,” Tony says. He positions himself in front of the doors and sucks in a few really big breaths before he grabs onto each door and starts to pull.

“It’s definitely broken, I heard it,” Peter says.

“It was….a stupid fight with Pepper,” Tony says, straining. “Dumb, just…stupid.”

“She’s gonna be even angrier when she finds out you ran into a glass door and broke your nose,” Peter says.

“Stop—repeating—”

“Are you really trying to open the door, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks.

Tony grumbles, tries to change his position, and pulls harder.

Peter narrows his eyes. “You look like you’re having a hard time—”

“Stop talking—I’m working—” He groans and the doors separate a little bit, but not much. He steps back with a big huff and swings his arms back and forth, looking back at Peter and glaring at him like he’s the reason he can’t open the door. “Alright, hotshot, let’s see you do it.”

“Okay,” Peter says, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Peter steps up to the door and breathes in and out for a second before he grabs on and starts pulling. His arms strain a little bit but he’s able to push them apart pretty easily. He grits his teeth. “They’re not gonna stay open—” Peter gasps, realizing, recognizing the resistance.

“Alright, alright, let go, we’re between floors anyway.”

Peter does and stumbles back against Tony’s steadying hand, watching as the doors snap closed again.

“My second embarrassment of the day,” Tony says.

“Definitely wouldn’t have gotten them open that far if you hadn’t, you know, loosened them for me,” Peter says, looking at him. He tries to breathe. He feels like he can’t catch his breath.

“Please,” Tony says, frowning at him.

Peter’s heart is going faster and faster. “Okay, let’s just chill out for a second,” he says, looking at the walls and how small this box really is. “Let’s just—”

“Why? Lemme boost you up, we can knock out the panel up there, get out of here—”

Peter looks at the doors, the walls, the remaining smears of blood on Tony’s temple. He clears his throat and Tony stops talking when he looks at him. He seems to understand.

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding. “Okay, let’s give it a couple minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, swallowing hard.

“No, it’s fine,” Tony says, his tone decidedly lighter than a few moments before, when it was strung up with frustration. “Just sit, we can’t—we can’t make it look too easy.”

“Guess you regret taking the nanotech out, huh?” Peter asks, blowing out a breath.

“Yeah, I gotta stop doing that shit,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Danger at every corner and half of it comes from my own dumbassery.” He gives Peter a quick look and nods at the corner. “Sit. We’ll take a brief siesta here, and if they don’t come to get us in the interim we’ll try and climb out. Good?”

“Good,” Peter says. He sits down and tries to keep his breathing steady. Okay, Spiderman, you’re not scared. You’re not scared, you’re fine. You’re Spiderman! And Iron Man’s here too! You’re good. You’re good.

Tony sits down next to him and leans against the wall. “This is so fucking stupid,” he says. He touches his nose gently, shaking his head.

“Why are you and Pepper fighting?” Peter asks, stretching his legs out, trying to remind himself he has plenty of room to move around. There’s no cement on his back, no darkness, no pain. He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s alive. Tony is here.

“Wedding stuff,” Tony says, shrugging. “I missed a deadline and didn’t, uh—own up to it. I mean, we’re gonna fix it—I’m fucking Tony Stark, they’re not gonna block me out.”

“Why did you miss it?” Peter asks.

“I’m, uh—back on my bullshit, I guess. Suits for me, suits for you, weapons for Cap and Thor, something for Clint so he doesn’t die after he runs out of arrows.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “I mean, I’ve been doing good balancing, this is one thing!”

“What thing was it?” Peter asks. He feels a little calmer, finally getting to the bottom of why Tony’s been acting like such a weirdo all day.

“Uh, venue,” Tony says. “Booking the, uh, the Plaza. Which….I don’t even know why we decided on it, we did a long time ago before all the world ending business and it just kinda stuck.”

Peter chews on his lip. “Do you think you maybe missed it on purpose? Subconsciously?” he asks. “Because you wanna have it somewhere else?”

Tony turns to meet his eyes, stares at him like he said something outrageous. “I don’t…know. I usually don’t acknowledge anything that I could consider a subconscious decision, I like to think I have a very active role in all my mistakes.”

“You’ve still got a lot of time,” Peter says, hoping he’s saying the right thing. “Maybe you need to like….discuss the venue with her again. And like…anything else you’re not completely happy with. I mean, you only get married once. If you’re doing it right.”

“Which I am.”

“Right,” Peter says. “And then maybe you won’t miss any more deadlines. Hey, I could even be your reminder system. Just tell me and I’ll remind you when the time comes! Like a real intern.”

Tony laughs. “You’re more important than a reminder app, Parker.”

“It could be fun,” Peter says. “I’m pretty good at remembering stuff.”

“I actually downloaded a legitimate app,” Tony says. “I just need to remember to add in all the goddamn dates.”

“I can do that for you,” Peter says. “That works.”

“Fine,” Tony says. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“And it’ll make Pepper happy,” Peter says, smiling.

“Good,” Tony says. “That’s what we need.”

“And like you said, I mean, if you guys do decide you want to have it at the Plaza, they’ll let you, because you’re Iron Man. They can’t say no to you.”

“Not if…they want to live, I don’t know, no, I’m not gonna kill anybody,” Tony says, sinking back further against the wall. “We’ll see.”

“It’ll be fine,” Peter says.

“Sorry I’ve been such a shit,” Tony says. “Running into doors and embarrassing you, awful. Getting us stuck in an elevator.”

Peter snorts, looking at him. “Oh, you stopped the elevator?”

“Of course. It’s always me.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket and groans, rolling his eyes. “No service. In an elevator. Once again, why is this shit allowed? There should be no such thing as a dead zone.”

“Just send a message and it’ll go through once it grabs a signal,” Peter says.

“Yeah, uh huh, I thought of that myself,” Tony says, but he smiles warmly as he starts typing one up. “How you doing, kid, you fine? Better after playing therapist?”

“I’m okay, I’ve been good,” Peter says, his cheeks heating up a little bit. “I just needed to sit for….a couple seconds, I mean, we should, like…not panic, since…your nose is broken. If we go trying to escape right away and get too crazy…you could slam into something else and put an eye out.”

Tony looks at him incredulously. “Oh, yeah, that just…happens. Eyes just pop out willy nilly all over the place.” He huffs when Peter looks down at his hands. “Here I am, opening up to you, and you’re still holding back, even though you’re well aware you always have the floor with me.”

Peter doesn’t like to talk about what’s going on with him because he doesn’t want to stress anybody out. He doesn’t want to stress Tony and May out because they’re both trying so hard for him, all the time, more than he thinks he deserves. And he feels like admitting there’s something wrong with him will stress him out even more than he already is, because if it’s out loud then he has to deal with it. And that’s exactly what he’s been avoiding all this time.

“C’mon, Pete, while we’re still sitting here,” Tony says. “Doubt we’ll get in much conversation while we’re climbing through an elevator shaft.”

Peter closes his eyes, laughing a little bit. “I don’t know. It’s weird, every day I feel…weird. Displaced, like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not,” Tony says, almost defensively.

“I know,” Peter says, opening his eyes and looking at him. He knows he has to be honest. “But I just…anything that scared me even slightly before scares me more now. I don’t know why, you’d think it would be the opposite considering I already faced the ultimate scary thing and I’m…I’m here, but I can’t stop, I have such a hard time calming myself down. When I’m alone I can’t, and the only times I feel safe are when I’m with you or May.”

“Good,” Tony says. “All the more reason for me to hang around.”

Peter smiles, shaking his head. “I just sorta feel sometimes like I’m—figuring out how to be a person again? I guess?”

“That’s fair,” Tony says. “And you’re doing an incredible job. I’m not just saying that because I’m biased. You got your driver’s license, which a lot of New York teens just blow off, but you kicked that test’s ass. You’re doing great in school, you’re still going above and beyond—clearly, since we just got this robot thing going. Good on us.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be cool,” Peter says, his throat a little tight.

“And you’re still going out as Spiderman,” Tony says, patting Peter’s shoulder. “Which is absolutely unnecessary, you could be giving yourself a break, but you’re still doing it. Nothing can keep you down, Pete. And whatever happens—there is no, uh, precedent for this. What you went through. Even if there was, we would have immediately tossed it out the window, but there’s not, so—whatever you’re dealing with, kid, we’ll work through it.”

Peter stares at him, nodding slowly. It’s one of those moments where he can’t believe where he is, who he is, and who he gets to talk to. Who supports him.

“But you gotta talk to us,” Tony says. “We can’t read your mind, haven’t made any headway on that front yet. But I will never, ever give up.” He holds his chin high, smiling.

Peter snorts.

“Okay?” Tony asks, nudging into him.

“Yeah,” Peter says. He feels a little better now that he’s said it out loud, which surprises him. He was sure he would have been able to even get the words out—but Tony, somehow, always makes things easier.

“Yes, Tony, you are full of wisdom, I don’t know how you even function with so many facts and figures floating around in your brain,” Tony says, in a high, mocking voice.

Peter narrows his eyes. “Is that how I sound? If that’s how I sound I should like, never talk—”

Tony nudges into him again. “My impressions are flawless.”

“Yeah, if I have to hear your Thor one more time—”

There’s a strange sound on the top of the elevator that makes Peter stop speaking, and then there’s a louder sound. Like a person landing. The sound sends a sick feeling through Peter’s body, chills running down his arms.

Tony goes stiff.

“What are the odds that’s someone coming to get us out?” Peter asks, the both of them looking up.

“I’d say seventy thirty against,” Tony says.

“How do you figure?” Peter breathes, his heart hammering.

“The way—”

The ceiling panel slides aside quickly and something drops inside the elevator. Everything feels like it moves in slow motion after that—Tony quickly kicks it away, shifting so he’s in front of Peter, and then the round thing emits a white gas that quickly starts filling up the space.

“Oh God,” Peter gasps, moving back, pressing himself against the wall.

“Peter, hold your breath,” Tony says, panicking, and because he’s panicking Peter starts panicking even more. He sucks in a breath and holds it, and tries to plan—they can’t get up there fast enough, even if Tony boosts him up, and even if he did make it out, someone is up there, someone that wants to hurt them. He won’t be able to hold his breath long enough to get up there and be ready to fight, and he already feels like he’s gonna pass out.

He lets out the breath and falls forward a little, pressing his forehead against Tony’s back. The gas is getting to him. His eyes are burning. “Tony,” he says, dizzy, trying to take small breaths, but his vision is already faltering, his heart is beating too fast. He was dead, he’s gonna be dead again, they’re gonna kill him, they’re gonna kill Tony, no, no—

“Kid, they’re—don’t—”

Peter can’t hold on anymore, he’s trying so hard to stay awake but he’s not strong enough, everything is fuzzy, and he feels the elevator rattle when someone jumps into it. Tony yells, something weak, shifting further to shield Peter more.

The darkness drapes over him again, and he’s dead again, he’s gonna die again, he’s gonna die—

Chapter Text

Peter wakes up to a sharp hit across his face, and the sound of Tony’s voice.

“Don’t—if you hit that kid one more goddamn time, you piece of shit—”

“Oh, what’re you gonna do, Stark? Doesn’t look like you’re doing much of nothin’—”

“Igor, you’ve got no fucking clue what you’re in for.”

The pain comes back to Peter in thick waves, and as soon as he can feel everything again he knows he’s got a broken nose now too, to match Tony’s. He’s sitting on a wooden chair and his hands are shoved behind him, handcuffed to the legs. He knows if he focuses hard enough he’ll be able to snap himself free no problem, but he needs to do it once this dickhead is gone. He’s dizzy and he still hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he can hear the guy verbally sparring with Tony. They sound really far away even though Peter knows they’re not, and there’s a high pitched ringing in his ears. There’s blood dripping down his nose over his lips, and everything tastes like metal. Gross.

“What do you want me for, huh?” Tony asks. “Is it money, you want money? C’mon, fess up. Everybody’s got their Iron Man sob story, that’s fine, but leave the kid out of it.”

“Why do you think it’s always about you, huh?” the unfamiliar voice says.

“Because it usually is,” Tony says.

“Well this one ain’t,” the guy says. “We’re a little ahead of schedule, but as soon as Gargan gets here…well, Spidey knows what he did.”

Peter doesn’t say anything, tries not to move, and keeps his eyes closed.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Tony says. “Spidey? Are there spiders in here, are you kidnapping spiders too? I don’t understand.”

“Stop playing dumb. You know I know. He knows I know.”

“This is my intern—”

“This is Spiderman,” the guy says. “We been working hard to find out who he is, ever since he fucked the boss up on the ferry, and now the boss is on his way. You’re just a bonus this time, bud. It’ll be nice to hear you scream when we tear him apart.”

“Hey, fucker, he’s not who you think—hey—hey—”

Peter hears the guy laugh, completely ignoring Tony as his footfalls disappear. He hears dripping, like there’s a leak somewhere in here. Tony’s breathing is harsh and he curses under his breath. It sounds like a couple of his ribs might be broken.

Jesus, everything hurts. The terror is taking a backseat to the pain for the moment, and Peter doesn’t want to open his eyes.

“Pete,” Tony whispers, and Peter is starting to get a better idea of where he is in relation to him. He’s recalibrating, which makes everything hurt more. “Hey, talk to me. Please.”

Peter groans, shifting a little bit.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hey,” Peter says, his voice breaking.

“You okay? How do you feel?”

“Like someone has—drilled a hole into my skull,” Peter says. He slowly opens his eyes—his vision is blurry and he blinks a couple of times, watching as his surroundings come into focus. They’re in what looks like a basement, but the walls are thick, heavy concrete and there aren’t any windows. It smells grungy and dirty, and the dripping he hears is coming from a pipe in the corner that’s leaking. Tony is to Peter’s left, in a similar situation. A cockroach skitters across the room and rushes into a small hole in the corner.

“Jesus, kid, you scared me,” Tony says, in a rush of breath. “You weren’t coming to and this asshole kept hitting you—I almost dislocated my arm having a fucking heart attack about it—”

“Thanks,” Peter breathes. He cracks his neck and listens hard, tries to determine how far away the asshole captors are.

“Yeah, you’re welcome for my very harsh words, they really made a difference,” Tony says. He sighs, rattling his handcuffs.

“How’s your nose?” Peter asks, looking over and blinking at him.

Tony looks at him incredulously. “Peter. Jesus.”

“What? I’m concerned—”

“You’ve got one now too, so fun times, we match.”

Peter stares at him. His senses are going haywire. His heart is beating so fast, and the reality of the situation is starting to break through. His chest heaves and panic prickles up and down his arms.

“It’s okay,” Tony says, nodding at him. “I sent a message to Pepper before they grabbed us, so I’m sure it went through and she’s tracking my location, there’s no way this shit hasn’t been reported yet. Pep is with everybody else so I know they’re on their way.”

“You still have your phone?” Peter asks.

“Nah, they took my entire jacket. And I loved that jacket. Dickheads.”

Peter hopes the message went through. He doesn’t know how stupid these dudes are, and he wonders when they took the phones or if they destroyed them or what. Peter doesn’t want to wait for somebody to come. He wants to be out of here right now. This is a nightmare. He knows May is probably terrified. He sucks in a breath. “How many guys have been in here?” he asks.

“Two,” Tony says. “I don’t know if that means there are more than that hanging around or what—”

“Okay, we gotta get out of here,” Peter says, swallowing hard.

“Peter, this is about you,” Tony says. “They didn’t take us because of me, it’s about you—some fucking how, they know your identity—does Gargan sound familiar to you?”

“No,” Peter says, hanging his head. He must have been stupid somehow, revealed himself somewhere along the way to some asshole who didn’t like being stopped by Spiderman.

“Shit,” Tony says, with a sigh. “Could be because of me, they could have connected the dots because I’m hanging around you all the time—”

“Stop,” Peter says, because he can see where that’s going, and he won’t handle Tony cutting him out and ignoring him like he used to. Not now, not after all this bullshit.

And this is the first real danger they’ve faced since Peter came back, and everything feels highlighted, straining, and he wishes he had the suit. He wishes Tony had his too. He feels like a raw nerve, exposed, like they’re walking along a high wire. So close to losing what they fought to save, and way too many scenarios are rushing through Peter’s head. Him dying, how terrifying that’ll be to go through again, all the uncertainty and fear of what’s next. Tony having to endure that again. Tony dying—Peter can’t even think of it for more than a second without his heart jolting.

Both of them dying before anybody can come to help them.

They’ve gotta help themselves.

“Kid,” Tony says. “Relax, relax, I’ve been kidnapped a couple of times and look, I’m still here—these guys are dumb as shit, the exact kinda villains I’d expect to be harassing you. Look, they’re mad because some spiderkid foiled their evil plans and put their boss in jail or whatever the hell—”

“So we can take them out,” Peter says, looking at him. He feels a little manic, especially sitting here stuck in these handcuffs. He’s gotta get out of them. “Or we can sneak past them and escape.”

Tony stares at him, and Peter remembers how he’d always give him this look, like he’s trying to read his thoughts, before inevitably saying no, brushing him aside, telling him the adults can handle it.

This time is different. “How?” Tony asks.

“I can get out of these cuffs,” Peter says. “And I can get you out. And we both know how to fight, I can listen out for where they are and for a way out—we can just, like…beat them up as we go if we have to and then escape and the first car we see will stop for us because you’re Tony Stark.”

Tony narrows his eyes, glancing off and cracking his jaw. “This is…a very loose plan, Parker. It’s barely a plan, it’s like…making chocolate chip cookies without the chocolate chips. Or the sugar. And like….one handful of dough and no flour.”

“What a weird analogy,” Peter says, shaking his head at him.

“I was trying to make it very visceral, so you’d understand. I was considering making it about Legos—”

“Tony,” Peter says, and Tony stops talking. “My senses all are hyped up, more than usual, I can hear everything, I can anticipate which way to go and I…I wanna get out of here before anything…happens,” he says.

“I wanna get you out of here,” Tony says. “It’d be a different thing if they were just after me and were using you for leverage, but it’s the other way around and that doesn’t fly with me.” He sighs. “So…yeah, I’m in. You’re right, so you’ve got point, I’ll do what you say.”

Peter stares at him, eyes wide. “Oh.”

“That fine?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“An honor I don’t bestow on many,” Tony says. “Take it to heart.”

Peter forces out a laugh. He’s so nervous that he feels like the terror has already boiled over and he no longer knows how to process it. “Okay,” he breathes.

“You’re good,” Tony says.

“I’m good,” Peter says. He closes his eyes and listens hard. He can hear two voices having a conversation, hears the name Gargan again, and something about jail. Something about Gargan and the team, an hour out. Hopefully less. Peter hears car horns to his right and he figures that’s the way they need to go, the closest way out.

“Where are they, they close?” Tony asks.

“Sound like they’re a couple rooms away, upstairs, I think,” Peter says. “How long was the guy in here before?”

“Uh…God, probably a good half hour of him bouncing back and forth between trying to look menacing and then punching us both.”

“You think he’ll come back?” Peter asks.

“Unsure,” Tony says. “He was here when I woke up and that was the first time he left.”

Peter keeps listening. He hears a door close.

“I’ve got your back, kid, no matter what,” Tony says.

“Okay,” Peter says. It makes him feel better, more focused, and he knows he can’t hesitate forever. He hopes this is the right moment. He tries to beat down all the doubt he’s been feeling since he got back, because if he keeps doubting, especially right now, he’s gonna get hurt again. Or worse. And if Tony gets hurt because of him, because some idiot is trying to kill him…he’ll never forgive himself.

“Okay,” Peter says again. He braces himself and quickly breaks the handcuffs, feels them drop down against the leg of the chair. His wrists hurt but he doesn’t take any time to tend to them, quickly rushing to Tony and breaking his off, too. He wipes the blood off his own face.

“Definitely witnessing just how strong you are first hand,” Tony says, eyeing him as he gets to his feet. “I thought I knew, but now I’m very aware you could destroy everything in the compound if you set your mind to it.”

“I like the compound too much,” Peter says.

“Good, we can avoid another incident like the Hulk kitchen destruction hour,” Tony says.

“You wanted to redo it anyway, he was helping,” Peter says. He loves how Tony is always capable of keeping things light. Tony laughs a little, pointing to the wall across from them, and Peter nods. Tony rushes out in front of him and slides up against the wall, and Peter follows fast, standing next to him. There are a few desks in here, boxes with piles of papers flowing out of them. A door is just a few steps away. “What the hell is this place?” Peter breathes.

“Don’t recognize anything,” Tony says. “Not somewhere I’d touch with a ten foot pole in normal circumstances.”

Peter closes his eyes. He doesn’t hear anything. No more talking. His heart starts breathing faster because he doesn’t know what’s behind this door. He doesn’t know the layout of this goddamn place.

“We’re okay, Pete,” Tony says, hand on his shoulder.

Peter nods, swallowing over the lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“I’ll stay in front of you when we’re out there,” Tony says.

“You’re not bulletproof,” Peter says, giving him a look.

“Yeah, but just gimme this, okay? I’m not letting you be out front, no way, sorry. Just stay close, tell me which way to go and I’ll go. I might be able to figure some shit out, too.”

Peter sighs. “Well let me know if you do, I guess.”

“You’re still in charge, so prick up those ears,” Tony says.

Peter sucks in a breath and quickly moves out in front of Tony, walking up to the door. He grabs onto the knob and breaks it as easily and quietly as he can, and it disconnects from the door, unlocking it. Peter hands the knob over his shoulder to Tony.

“Oh, is this a souvenir?” Tony asks. “Better than anything we could get from the gift shop.”

Peter looks over his shoulder and shakes his head at him, and Tony shoots him a grin, quickly depositing the knob on the ground. Peter keeps listening hard—no sound, no speaking, a rhythmic turn of paper—and when he thinks it’s safe he slowly opens the door. It doesn’t creak, thank God, and Tony quickly slips out in front of him and moves out into the hallway. Peter has only seen Tony as himself and as Iron Man, so watching him move like this, light on his feet and deadly quiet, is a little shocking, especially considering his injuries. More like a spy than his normal, ostentatious self. Peter knows Tony probably has a concussion from what happened earlier and whatever the hell happened here before he woke up—shit, they both probably have concussions, and he hopes he can stay in control of his senses enough to get them out of here.

They’re in a long, dank hallway, and from this new perspective he can tell all the noise he’s hearing is definitely coming from up above them. He motions to his right and Tony nods, sweeping past him and leading him forward. Peter is nervous his heartbeat is too loud, that whoever is left here to babysit them will hear him, but the determined look in Tony’s eye is giving him a little bit more confidence. Peter looks up—there are water stains all over the ceiling, and there’s dirt and mold everywhere. The hallway is really cramped, the ceiling low, and this place feels like one of those abandoned warehouses where people die in video games. They slide along the edge of the wall until they come to the end of it, and Tony looks at Peter. Peter listens—still nothing, mostly silence, and he thinks these idiots have really underestimated them.

Which kinda makes him doubt every move they’re making.

Tony meets his gaze and Peter blinks at him, his heart going wild. Tony puts his hands up by his temples, kinda like he’s putting blinders on, and Peter guesses he’s trying to get him to focus. Peter nods, and Tony points around the corner, and Peter mimes like two fingers are walking up stairs. Tony nods at him, and then turns and starts up the stairs.

Peter follows. He’s getting nervous again, because he’s almost a hundred percent sure they’re moving directly into the main evil lair. His pain beats like a second pulse and he keeps trying to stave panic off because they have to get out, they have to get out, he’s watching Tony move quickly up these stairs and Peter catches up, moves alongside him, because he can’t let him go in alone—

Peter hears something, they’re getting closer to it—

They take the last step fast and Peter whips his head around for the source of the sound. They’re still not close to the exit—this room is gross too, all dark and windowless, eternal dripping, pipes exposed and mold scaling up the walls. Very small, like a box, or a cell. Far to their left is the danger—one man, the man that had been down in the basement messing with them, is sitting on a dilapidated, cracked leather couch, slowly flipping through a small notebook.

Peter can hear him breathing. He can hear the water in the pipes and for a moment he’s frozen, stuck in a nightmare where he’s drowning, trying to breathe but he can’t, he can’t reach Tony, he can’t get them out—Tony turns, looks at him, winds his hand around Peter’s elbow. He nods at him, meets his eyes, gets him to focus again, and Peter only has a moment to calm down before he hears something weird, a scuff somewhere behind him, and Tony’s eyes are snapping up, above Peter’s head, terror and pain and panic there—and then Peter is ripped backwards, a knife pressed to his throat.

“Martin, what the fuck!” a gruff voice close to Peter’s ear yells.

His heart is nearly beating out of his chest and he watches Tony’s face, the uncertainty and fear there, his hands outstretched towards Peter. Peter just keeps looking at him, not at Martin moving fast behind him, not at anything else. He can’t move, because the asshole who’s holding him isn’t really taking care, and he’s slowly cutting into Peter’s skin. The knife is cold and really sharp, the pain piercing, and he’s having a hard time breathing.

“You guys thought you could get out of here, huh?” the voice asks, yanking Peter tight against him.

“Alright, guy, let’s not—” Tony starts.

“What the fuck is with you and this kid, huh?” the voice spits at Tony, and warm blood starts seeping down Peter’s throat in a thin line. Peter can see Tony looking at it in horror. “Long lost son, huh? Well you’re gonna watch him die, Stark, we’ll just tell Gargan we couldn’t wait—had to take the two of you out because you were fucking around trying to escape—we can still make it fun, though—” He pulls Peter back by his hair and Peter’s mind races—he can’t hit him because of the knife, he’ll just cut deeper if there are any sudden movements—

“Leave him alone, asshole, I’ll give you anything—”

Then Martin, right behind Tony, drops to the ground with a loud thud. Tony doesn’t stop facing Peter but his eyes dart down in confusion.

The guy who’s holding Peter falters a little, his grip loosening. “Martin?” he asks, sounding younger and smaller for a second. His grip loosens even more, the knife away from Peter’s neck, and Peter lets go of everything else but his need to stay alive, for May, for Tony, for Ned and for MJ—for everybody that’s ever needed Spiderman. For himself, because Tony gave him this second chance and he’s not about to waste it.

He braces himself and elbows the guy in the gut as hard as he can, bending down at the same time so the knife doesn’t catch him. He grabs his wrist and twists out of his grip, rushing towards Tony. Tony shoves Peter behind him and then surges forward with a forceful punch, knocking the asshole out. He collapses in a heap, and the knife clatters to the ground.

“Peter,” Tony says, turning and grabbing him, eyes tracing over his face and the cut on his neck. “You okay? It was just them in here, right—”

“I’m—yeah, I think so—”

“You okay?” Tony asks again.

Peter touches his neck. There are too many things to think about right now. He holds his palm over the cut.

“Peter—”

“What happened to him?” Peter asks, looking down at Martin.

“Thanks for taking out the big one, you two,” a familiar female voice says, and Peter whips around to see Black Widow walking around the corner. “Didn’t wanna waste another dart, but I was going to…”

“I think we should kill them,” Tony says, moving closer to Peter. “I think that’s a good idea, one of my better ideas—”

“Police are on their way,” Natasha says, looking at him. “I worked with them, they were on it as soon as someone reported these assholes dragging you guys out of the elevator. So as much fun as that sounds…probably isn’t the best idea.”

“It is…the best idea…” Tony grumbles.

“Their boss was coming,” Peter says, his voice rough. “Gargan or something? I think I sent him to jail, it’s hard keeping up with everybody, there are so many stupid bad guys, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, he was escaping, but we figured out the connection fast,” Natasha says. “They got him and everybody else.”

“Christ, let’s get out of here,” Tony says. Natasha nods at him and motions for them to follow her through a room with a couple of desks and an old grated fire place, leading to another dank hallway. She’s going the exact way Peter would have gone if the asshole hadn’t interrupted them, which makes him feel a little bit better about his instincts. He tries to let go, let his senses drop back down to normal levels. Tony throws an arm around his shoulders as they walk and Peter leans into him.

“Thank you,” Peter says, nodding at Natasha. “For…coming to get us.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” she says, turning and smiling at him. “Sorry it took so long.” She looks Tony up and down. “You’re also welcome, shellhead.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Tony says. “I know you’re gonna hold this over my head forever so I’m just bracing myself.”

“It’s alright,” Natasha says. “I came for Peter, not you.”

Peter smiles to himself, looking down at their feet as they go, and Tony scoffs.

“I love how we didn’t warrant a full team rescue,” Tony says. “I feel very loved right now, lemme tell you.”

“I decided to handle it myself,” Natasha says. “Wasn’t much.”

“You did a great job,” Peter says.

“Tony, you see why he’s our favorite?”

~

It’s a lot of crap with police officers and ambulances and Tony yelling after that, and eventually he convinces them to let him take Peter to the compound so Bruce can treat them both. May is already there when they arrive, and Peter hugs her for just about a hundred years.

He sits diligently in front of Bruce in the med lab before Tony goes in himself, and he has to blink back stars after Bruce resets his nose.

“So how was it being stuck with Tony for this amount of time?” Bruce asks, tending to the cut on Peter’s neck. It’s already healing fast. “First the elevator, then this hellhole…”

“We make a good team,” Peter says, smiling to himself. “He, uh, actually let me make most of the decisions when we were trying to escape.”

“Oh yeah?” Bruce asks, his eyes narrowed. “Guess he’s getting smarter in his old age.”

“Offensive,” Tony’s voice says, from behind them. “Age has nothing to do with it, Peter knows what he’s doing.”

“Now that I don’t doubt,” Bruce says, stepping back after applying a few bandages. “Everybody’s watched that glass door footage a million times, by the way.”

“Nice,” Tony says, walking over and leaning on the table that Peter’s sitting on. “Love that you guys are in here laughing at me while I’m kidnapped.”

“Only after we knew you were safe,” Bruce says. “How did that look in real life, Peter?”

“I didn’t see it properly,” Peter says. “I’d dropped one of my packets, and as soon as I wasn’t next to him anymore Mr. Stark decided to slam into the door.”

Bruce laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I’m glad we’ve got you two back,” he says. “I wish these low level assholes would leave us alone for a while, we’ve all been through too much for this crap.”

“Bruce, can you, uh—kick it, for a few seconds here?” Tony asks, looking at him.

“I’ve gotta take care of you next, Tony,” Bruce says, looking at him in concern. “And this is—”

“Yeah, just—gimme a couple minutes,” Tony says. “Then I’ll be the best little patient you ever did see.”

“Yeah right,” Bruce says, eyeing him. He sighs, giving Peter a look before he walks out of the room. Tony turns to face him and Peter smiles. Tony’s nose really looks bad, and Peter can’t believe how long ago the elevator incident feels. He feels strangely displaced in time, but weirdly enough, more alive than he has since he was brought back to life.

“So Gargan is back in prison,” Tony says. “Uh—a much better prison. One where they locked up Justin Hammer and the Mandarin, so we shouldn’t be expecting him back any time soon.”

“Good,” Peter says, blowing out a breath.

“Yeah, you good?” Tony asks, scrutinizing him. “I’m already replacing our phones, so you don’t have to worry about that, and they got your stuff from the elevator, so—small mercies.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Peter says. He knows he might have a difficult time sleeping tonight, but he can already tell that he and May are gonna stay over here tonight. Which is totally fine with him. “Nose hurts, but I’m glad Bruce fixed it before it started healing wrong.”

“Yeah, your face is bad enough as it is.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Tony grins and Peter laughs, shaking his head.

“But for real, kid—I know how that shit is, it never feels good, being helpless like that—especially after what you’ve been through, but you really—you really showed up. You were incredible. In the elevator, in their gross shitty lair that looked like it was ready to collapse at any minute—you were great.” He steps forward, taking Peter by the shoulders. “I know you’re having a hard time and that probably didn’t help, but you’re making a lot of strides that I don’t think you’re aware of. You’re capable of being a real leader, given the situation, and you’re amazing under pressure, which I hope isn’t entirely internalizing.”

“You help me out a lot,” Peter says. He loves the other Avengers but he doesn’t know how he’d be if they were his backup, especially nowadays. Working with Tony just feels like clockwork.

“And you help me too,” Tony says. “Just…give yourself a little more credit. You’re doing good. Things are gonna keep getting better.”

Peter sighs, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t know how he feels. He’s exhausted and everything hurts but he’s so, so glad they’re alive and that they made it out of there. He always feels really cool when Tony compliments him, so that’s helping too. He falls forward a little bit, bracing his forehead on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony ruffles his hair.

“You gotta make up with Pepper,” Peter says.

“Don’t worry, we’re good,” Tony says. “I told her everything you said and she was having second thoughts about the Plaza, too. So…we’ll see. We’re gonna figure out what’s best, what we really want. All that jazz. But we’re fine, we kissed and made up.”

“Good,” Peter says, straightening up again. He slides off the table and heaves a sigh. “Okay, I’m gonna go hang out with May before she has a heart attack.”

“Smart,” Tony says. “She actually hugged me for a really long time, I was surprised, I never knew she cared—”

Peter scoffs, walking around him. “She loves you.”

Bruce brushes back in the door as Peter approaches it. “Okay, good,” he says. “You’re done—time to fix your nose, Tony, that concussion, check on those ribs—”

“Ugh, Dr. Frankenstein—Peter, do not let them watch that goddamn glass door footage one more time—”

Peter laughs, looking over his shoulder. “Okay, I won’t.” He opens the door and May is marching up to it, and her face lights up when she sees him.

“Oh good,” she says, quickly wrapping her arm around his middle. “I was coming to hang out with you.”

“Bruce is done with me,” Peter says, looking down at her. “So now is relaxing time. Now until forever.”

“Good idea,” May says. She rubs his hip, concern in her eyes. “You doing okay? We’re gonna stay here tonight, I know you’re better off here.”

“Thanks,” he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walk down the stairs, the familiar path to the common room. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re lying, is what you are,” May says. “You’re allowed to be shaken up, Peter, I mean, I know you’re Spiderman and everything, but a kidnapping is a kidnapping.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, and she’s right. He does feel weird but the predominant emotion is relief that they made it out. “But seriously, I’m…I’m fine, I’m doing good. Mr. Stark was with me, we made it, Natasha rescued us, and now I’m gonna get lots of pampering from the Avengers because of what happened, which is always nice. One perk to being a kid, they’re all hovery and protective.”

May looks at him for a really long time. “Alright, well—talk to me if you need to, honey.”

“I will,” Peter says. “I promise.”

They finish the walk down the hall and Peter opens the door to the common room, where basically everybody is gathered. They’re all laughing, and it instantly lifts Peter’s spirits.

“Oh, Peter!” Steve calls, sitting on Peter’s favorite white couch in the far corner. “So glad you’re here—you haven’t gotten to see the footage yet. We’re watching Tony’s glass encounter on loop.”

Peter smiles, shaking his head. Okay, watching it one time isn’t a betrayal he thinks, as he walks into the room.

“Look, look,” Rhodey says. “I added that song you were dying about the other day in all those stupid videos. I finally get how…how funny it is…” He trails off because he’s already laughing, tears shining in his eyes, and he brings up another video. It’s still the same footage, but as soon as Tony slams into the glass it goes into slow-motion, and the Mmm Whatcha Say song comes on.

Peter nearly chokes, covering his mouth with his hand, and everyone bursts into laughter.

Chapter Text

Steve sits in the driver’s seat and Rhodey is in the passenger’s seat, and Peter is in the back of the truck with Tony. He’s moving around anxiously, clenching his hands, and Peter is trying not to laugh at him. There seems to be a clear difference between Tony when there’s no one else around, and Tony when he’s anywhere near Steve. It’s like someone turns the competitiveness up to eleven, and he’s constantly finding ways to pick at him.

“Jesus, I should have driven,” Tony says. “We’re never gonna get there. The carnival is gonna leave town before we get there.”

“Put a cork in it, Tones,” Rhodey says, looking over his shoulder at him.

“I’m going the speed limit,” Steve says. “Don’t you want to set a good example for Peter? He’s still a new driver.”

Peter is pretty sure Steve is driving like this to irritate Tony. He’s definitely been alone in the car with him before when Steve picked him up from school that day, much to his shock, and he drove a lot more like a normal person then, as opposed to this over-exaggerated grandpa.

“Peter is a speed demon, just like me,” Tony says, winking at him.

“I’m really not,” Peter says.

“We know,” Rhodey says. “He’s a big liar.”

“I am not a liar,” Tony says, looking out the window as they make a right turn. “I just know truths the rest of you don’t know. And Pete, c’mon, kid, I’ve seen you on the course we made—”

“That’s…that’s different,” Peter says, pointing at him. “That’s free rein, I can do whatever there—”

“Speed demon,” Tony says, definitively.

“Sounds like you like having your license,” Steve says.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Peter says. He really likes being able to go out on his own, even though Tony literally made it impossible to text when he’s behind the wheel, even if he’s stopped at a red light.

“I never got mine,” Steve says, with a shrug.

Peter’s jaw drops. “Uh, what?”

“Yeah, he loves flaunting that,” Tony says. “I don’t know why we let him drive.”

“They just give you stuff when you come back from the dead,” Steve says. “They didn’t give you anything good when you came back?”

Peter laughs a little awkwardly, and he can feel Tony look at him.

“Rogers,” Tony says, abruptly, “you don’t have to slow to a crawl every time you wanna make a turn, I know you’re—Jesus—”

Steve whips around the corner, and Rhodey grabs the handle above him and holds on. Tony braces himself on Peter’s shoulder, gritting his teeth until they’ve made it around, and then Steve slows down to forty five again. He chuckles to himself.

“Hmm, okay,” Tony says, straightening himself back out again. “Careful, real…real careful, there. Baby on board, remember, Cap? Let’s go back to irritatingly slow.”

Peter glares at him. “There is no. Baby. On board.”

Tony snickers, slapping the back of Steve’s seat.

All of their phones chirp and chime at the same time, and everyone but Steve takes them out to look.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says, as Peter smiles wildly. “Seriously, how did this happen? Who taught him this?”

“Bruce taught him at bowling the other night,” Steve says. “If that’s Thor again.”

Thor has been texting everybody for about a week, whenever he has the slightest thought or sees something interesting. He’s been off with Bruce settling New Asgard for the past week, and Peter can’t even possibly say how delighted he is to be included in this group chat.

The last hour was quite eventful—I skied for the first time, unsuccessfully, I damaged a very old Viking ship and I mistook a troll statue for a real troll. Greetings to everyone!!!! We miss you!!!!

“I love this,” Peter says out loud. He doesn’t mean to but he isn’t embarrassed about it either.

Tony’s tone rings out on Peter’s, Steve’s and Rhodey’s phones. Peter looks over at him, watching him put his phone away with a flourish. Peter reads his message.

Bruce I know you’re in this chat and you need to provide evidence of all these things tout suite buddy

Peter snorts, grinning over at him. Tony grins back, starting to clench his hands again.

“Aw c’mon, Cap, you coulda made that light.”

“The red car ran it, I wasn’t gonna run it too.”

“Oh my God,” Tony says, digging his thumbs into his eyes. "There's no in between."

“What made you wanna go to this thing, Tony?” Rhodey asks. “I thought after your whole Pirates of the Caribbean fiasco you’d never wanna ride another ride again.”

Tony huffs and everybody laughs, Steve slapping his hand down on the steering wheel.

“Peter, I love how you tell that story,” Steve laughs.

Peter snorts. “I’ve never seen him like that—”

“—climbing all over the boat,” Steve laughs, and Rhodey snorts, completely avoiding eye contact with Tony.

“Laugh it up, but now I can sleep in Cinderella’s Castle whenever the hell I want,” Tony says. “I get free food, the suite, unlimited fast passes and free tickets for five guests whenever I visit, all because I’m one of those customers who wants to speak to the manager. I’m not ashamed about it, it was their fuckup—and I totally could have fixed those boats, if they hadn’t insisted on yelling at me through their stupid PA system.”

Everyone keeps laughing and Peter covers his face, trying to stop, because Tony is giving him the evil eye.

“I wanted to go to the carnival because Scott and his family went last weekend and he was raving about how great it was, how they have the best funnel cakes he’s ever had, and I know that guy’s a sugar fiend, so I’m sure the claim’s legit. Peter, you love funnel cakes and fun—I thought it’d be great. Boys’ night out, there’s alcohol there too, but Steven, unfortunately you’re the designated driver—”

“Wouldn’t do anything for me, anyhow,” Steve says.

“So just me and you, Rhodey,” Tony says. “And Peter never. He’s not even allowed to look at it.”

“I’m sure Peter’s had alcohol at parties,” Rhodey says, looking at him in the rearview.

“Ummm,” Peter starts. It was only once, before the end of the world, and he’d stopped once he crashed into the dessert table and ruined some girl’s cupcakes.

“Ummm,” Tony mocks, looking at him harder.

“Nothing,” Peter says, and he grins at him.

“No way, Parker,” Tony says. “May would tear you limb from limb.”

“Yeah, that’s why she doesn’t know,” Peter says.

“Well now I’ve got blackmail material,” Tony says, holding his chin high. “So you better walk the line, kid.”

Peter figures he’s probably all talk. He can usually get out of any real trouble with Tony as soon as he pulls out the waterworks, so he’s not too worried. Ever since the kidnapping Tony’s been on a real rampage to do more fun things, even more than he was beforehand. And he’d been a man on a mission beforehand, very aware of the demons in Peter’s head and the trouble he’d been having. Peter doesn’t know what the hell else he’s gonna come up with, or if he’s ever gonna stop—yesterday he had game night with the Guardians, the day before he’d taken Peter and May to the movies, which he’d bought out just for them. On Monday they binge watched the first two seasons of The Wire together, and the weekend had consisted of street fairs with Pepper and an NYU tour. Tony’s been extra paranoid too, looking over his shoulder whenever they’re in public, and he still won’t take elevators unless they’re in the compound.

Peter can’t really express his gratefulness. He’s fit to burst with it, and sometimes it’s overwhelming, just how much all of this makes him feel. He loves every moment they spend together, and tries not to think of the things looming behind his eyes, the things that wake him up at night. Tony’s helping him fight them, all the ways he knows how.

“This is it, right Tony?” Steve asks.

“No, that’s the other carnival,” Tony says. Steve sighs, sounds very put-upon, and Tony laughs. “Yeah, that’s it. Parking’s ten bucks, here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ten, flicking it into the front seat.

Peter looks out the window. He’d looked this thing up and it only comes to town every few years because it takes so much time and resources, and he’s never gotten to go before in his life. He can see one of those crazy ship rides that swings you back and forth higher and higher in the air. Bumper cars, dual Ferris wheels, a couple different big roller coasters, lots of food carts and a big stage in the back. Steve gets into the right lane and turns into the parking area.

“Don’t park too far away,” Tony says. “Make sure they see all of our faces.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head.

Their phones buzz again and it’s the tone Peter had set aside for Thor. He quickly grabs for his phone and opens up the notification.

Bruce is currently dancing at a club called No Stress!!!! I thought it would be a nice place to take him!!!!! I’ll try to take as many photographs as possible.

“Oh my God,” Tony, Rhodey and Peter say, all at the same time.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Bruce is dancing in some club,” Rhodey says.

Peter watches Tony quickly type out a reply and then he gets the notification for it.

Photographs are a must, Point Break! Think of it as an official, commissioned job!

~

Rhodey and Tony don’t plan on drinking much because they never really do anymore, and as soon as they get inside the carnival they buy one drink each, this towering purple thing that they both get at a discount for being who they are. It’s called a Typhoon and it looks a lot like grape soda—and Rhodey lets Peter try a sip while Tony isn’t looking. Steve sees, gives him a knowing little smile, and Peter grins back. He tries not to cough too loud and give himself away, because it tastes like straight up vodka, and he backs away from Rhodey before Tony turns and looks at all of them.

“Alright, what first?” Tony asks. “Your choice, Pete.”

“Weird pirate ship,” Peter says, fast.

Tony glares at him, and Rhodey snorts.

“Your first choice is a pirate ship?” Tony says, fast. “You’re trying to bring my trauma to the forefront right away, huh?”

“There’s no way to get stuck on that thing,” Steve says, pointing over at it. “It just…hurls you into the air back and forth…over and over again.”

“Fun, amazing,” Tony says, taking a long sip of his drink.

“C’mon,” Rhodey laughs. “We can finish the drinks in the line.”

“I want some kind of something to have in the line!” Peter says, grinning. “Like maybe a funnel cake…”

“You deserve maybe, half a funnel cake since you’re trying to sabotage the night by bringing pirates into it.”

“Hey, Tony,” Peter says, nudging into him as they turn to start moving towards the closest stand that has funnel cakes. Tony’s gaze snaps down to find him and Peter grins. “Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me.”

Tony grits his teeth, staring at him, and Peter bursts into laugher as he marches away without saying anything in response.

They go on the pirate ship after Peter and Steve devour the funnel cake together, and Peter nearly dies laughing at how loud the other three scream as they’re thrown back and forth in the air. They go on it three times in a row—Peter takes videos of the second time so he can capture all of their facial expressions, and the third time Rhodey and Steve go on one side of the boat while Peter and Tony stay on the other. Peter nearly chokes, he’s laughing so hard at the way the other two look.

They drive bumper cars and Tony literally stalks Steve the entire time, bumping him every five seconds and trapping him in a corner. Peter takes a video and sends it to their group chat, captioning it STILL LOTS OF TROUBLE IN PARADISE. They wait for the race track after that, and Peter beats everybody, despite Rhodey hollering at him the whole time and trying to distract him. Tony actually looks really impressed, and Peter preens.

They get a very unhealthy dinner of hot dogs and pizza, and then they ride the Ferris wheel, the Zipper, the Super Shot and the baby roller coaster. Steve holds on tight during that one, a stern look on his face the whole time that Peter can’t read, and Tony laughs hard and knocks into him as they’re disembarking. Steve pushes back and they’re both laughing and grinning and Peter takes another video, captioning this one NEVERMIND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER WE’RE GOOD.

They find this super soaker carnival game and first Tony plays Steve, and then they play each other again, and then one more time while Peter live texts the whole thing to Ned. Then Peter plays Rhodey, Tony plays Rhodey, and surprisingly, when Steve and Rhodey face each other, they wind up being more competitive than anybody else.

“Captain America and War Machine, round six, round six, round six everybody,” the weird carny that’s running the both announces over his microphone. There’s a crowd surrounding them, people are cheering, it’s a whole big scene. “We’ve got a big Hello Kitty on the line, I repeat a big Hello Kitty—”

“You wanna go on the big roller coaster, kid?” Tony asks, handing Peter his second fried pickle. “I feel like this is gonna go on all night and we haven’t ridden it yet.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Steve calls over his shoulder, before Peter can answer. “I gotta beat his high score—”

“Oh, you think so, old man?” Rhodey asks, huffing. “Yeah, we’re gonna see about that—”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Peter says. “They’re definitely gonna go at least three more rounds.”

“Ridiculous,” Tony says. “Worse than me.”

“Impossible,” Rhodey yells, grinning at him over his shoulder.

Tony and Peter start over towards the roller coaster, which is called the Colossus. It isn’t as big as the Cyclone or anything, but the initial drop looks crazy, almost ninety degrees, and there are a couple big loops that shoot up into the sky. He knows Tony loves this stuff, and as much as Peter likes Rhodey and Steve, he’s kinda glad they’re getting to do this one just them.

“How’d the presentation go?” Tony asks. “I forgot to ask.”

“It went fine,” Peter says, eating the last bite of his pickle as they get into the line. “I did most of the talking because Alicia didn’t want to.”

“Sounds like you should get the better grade,” Tony says.

Peter shrugs. “It doesn’t really bother me.”

“I can never tell if you like attention or if you don’t,” Tony says, looking at him. They start weaving through a set of fences, walking underneath the roller coaster. “Like…our mutual…friend,” Tony says, eyes darting around, and Peter knows he’s talking about Spiderman, only because that’s the way he’s been referring to him in public since the kidnapping. “He, uh—he gets so much attention, but you don’t get to share in any of that. Not really.”

“Yeah,” Peter says.

“That ever bother you?” Tony asks. The red and blue lights hanging above them are blinking and reflecting off each other. Another carny guy with a mohawk gapes at Tony as he holds the next gate open for him.

Peter has thought about this a lot but never really come to a complete conclusion. “Uh…no, it doesn’t bother me,” he says. “I don’t do it to get attention, I just wanna…I just wanna help.”

Tony smiles at him, that smile that’s full of affection and lacking any of the façade Tony puts on for most other people.

“How many in your party si—oh my God. It’s Iron Man.”

“That it is,” Tony says, turning around to look at the girl sitting on the fence right before a rickety wooden stairwell. “Two in my party.”

“Party of two—party of two, Iron Man and a teenager!” the girl says, her eyes still wide, and she grins at Peter as they pass by, one of those expressions that he’s seen a lot since he started hanging out with Tony. It never fails to make him feel like the coolest person in the world. He thinks he doesn’t really need to get attention for being Spiderman, because he still gets attention for being this random teenager that all of the Avengers hang out with. It’s almost better.

There’s another shell shocked guy standing at the top of the stairs and he literally bows when Tony passes him, and Tony waves his hand through the air kinda like a king might do.

“Thank you,” he says, as they climb into the front two seats. “Thanks, very nice. Hey, bud, make sure the kid here is strapped in real tight, precious cargo, all that…”

“Oh my God, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, his face going hot.

“No regrets,” Tony says.

The guy runs over and pushes down Peter’s shoulder harness and makes it click into place twice, and Peter’s eyes nearly bug out. The guy connects the seatbelt and yanks on it to make sure it’s secure, and then he does the same to Tony.

“Yeah, I’m never getting out of this thing,” Peter says, looking at Tony as the guy says something about Iron Man into his walkie talkie.

“I’ll come visit you,” Tony says. “Bring you funnel cakes to sustain your life.”

“Thanks,” Peter says.

“Least I can do.”

The guy loads up the rest of the cart and checks everything, and then stands there for a second with his thumb up. Then they shoot forward, their feet dangling in the open air as they slowly start the climb that leads to the initial drop.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Tony says, as the cart speeds up. “I wasn’t fucking prepared.”

Peter snorts, laughing. “This is awesome!”

“My brain is dislodging.”

The coaster is wooden and sounds rickety and Peter hadn’t really paid much attention to it before, and he realizes that his phone is still in his pocket and he hopes it doesn’t fall out. He looks over at Tony and sees that he’s got a look of terror on his face that no ride has elicited yet, not even Rockin Roller Coaster in Hollywood Studios, which he just took as an opportunity to yell about Aerosmith for three minutes straight.

Peter puts his hands up when they reach the top of the peak, and he hears Tony cursing as they start literally rocketing down. They reach the valley and go back up again, quickly shooting through a loop and rushing around sideways towards the next one. Tony is yelling so loud and Peter can’t stop laughing, he tries not to fucking drool with how the wind is coming at him and how much he’s laughing, and he knows Steve and Rhodey have to be able to hear Tony shrieking like this.

“Stop—laughing—at—me—”

“I can’t!” Peter yells, laughing harder.

He screams too when they take a corkscrew fast, the coaster clicking along and shaking and rumbling, and they start up the next loop and come to an abrupt, jolting stop when they’re right in the middle of it, upside down. Everything goes dark all around them, the coaster and the Tilt-A-Whirl right next to it completely shutting down.

“No way,” Tony says, after a moment of deadly silence. “No. No, no way, this isn’t happening.”

They’re literally hanging upside down, right in the middle of the biggest loop on the coaster. They’re definitely fifty feet in the air. Peter looks down, sees people gathering, sees the Tilt-A-Whirl shudder back to life, its music slow and eerie sounding. He hears the rest of the people on their cart chattering nervously and Tony growls beside him.

“No, no way. I’m hallucinating. I’m still napping hours ago. You haven’t disturbed me with that stupid video of SpongeBob yodeling or whatever the hell.”

Peter tries not to laugh too hard. He actually can’t believe this is happening. They must have some kind of weird karma or luck going around to get stuck on something again.

“Peter, fix it,” Tony says. “Make it go.”

“You’re the mechanic.”

“All the blood is rushing to my head.”

“I’m okay, I hang upside down all the time.”

“Not with my puke all over you—and that’s why it’s your responsibility to fix it.” Tony grits his teeth, holding onto the restraints tight and angry.

Everything looks different from this angle and Peter tries to crane his neck, looking around. He sees a group of people all wearing the same shirt running over to a big control area behind the coaster, where someone is already set up and panicking. All of the other rides around them save for the Tilt-A-Whirl seem like they were unaffected by what Peter is thinking was some kind of power surge. He looks over to where he thinks Steve and Rhodey were and he doesn’t see them there anymore. But he might not be looking at the right stand. They all kind of blink brightly the same way, and the carnival looks like a whole different world now that they’re hanging here like this. Peter hadn’t been expecting to do any upside down recognizance work tonight.

He looks down at his waist, at the seatbelt attached to the shoulder harness. He grabs it, yanks on it with a little bit of strength, and it falls out of its lock.

“Fuck! No, Peter, I don’t want you falling on your goddamn head—I was kidding—”

Peter pushes a little on the restraint, but it doesn’t give at all, which is probably a good thing. His shoulders are pressing down hard onto it. “I can’t get out,” he says.

“Good!” Tony says, scowling at him. “Jesus.”

Peter hears roaring laughter and he looks down, sees Steve and Rhodey standing there at the base of the coaster, staring up at them. Steve cackles and bends over, slapping his hands on his knees.

“Tony!” Rhodey yells. “What kind of crazy ass karma you got going, man?”

“No commentary from the peanut gallery!”

“Peter I’m sorry you’re up there!” Steve yells. “You don’t deserve this! Tony, on the other hand…”

“Jesus Christ, they’re the worst,” Tony says.

It’s a really strange feeling, hanging upside down like this and not of Peter’s own accord. It isn’t getting to him but he feels like it might, eventually, if this goes on long enough, and from the look on Tony’s face it’s gonna get to him a lot sooner. It’s actually probably getting to him already.

“Wait a second,” a woman’s voice says, from somewhere behind him. “Is Iron Man on this ride?”

“No,” Tony shouts. “Just his headachy alter ego.”

“What do you think happened?” Peter asks, looking at him. He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to distract Tony.

“Looks like some kind of overload with this one and baby ride right there,” Tony says, vaguely gesturing at the Tilt-A-Whirl. “That thing’s already up and running again though, but this one probably has a couple different processes and fail safes it has to go through after an unplanned stop.”

Peter looks down again. The crowd next to the fence is growing, bright flashes going off as people start documenting their horrible experience, and Peter can see Steve and Rhodey standing in front, both of them still laughing. Steve cups his hands around his mouth and leans back a bit. “We’re gonna go see what’s going on!” he yells.

“Christ,” Tony says, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Steve can barely figure out how to work a goddamn radio, how is he gonna help?”

“Uh, Captain Rogers has gotten a lot better at technical stuff,” Peter says. Tony looks at him, eyes narrowed, and Peter clears his throat. “I mean. Not nearly anything like you, or…or anything like anybody who can fix a roller coaster, but he’s—he figured out how to jailbreak his firestick without even looking it up online, I helped him upgrade that speaker you bought him—”

Tony glares and it looks really silly upside down and Peter splutters, completely failing not to laugh.

“So lemme get this straight,” Tony says. “You’re helping Steve become more technologically advanced—and you’re laughing at me. Again.”

“You make him sound like a robot. And Sam and Natasha were already helping him before, anyway,” Peter says. “He’s smart, so…he was gonna figure things out eventually.”

“You’re disowned.”

“No I’m not.”

“Fine, you’re not.”

Peter grins.

Tony sighs. “Oh my God, this fucking sucks,” he mutters.

Peter has been around Tony in all kinds of moods in the past couple years, has seen the full spectrum of Iron Man emotions in every situation, and Peter knows this is the kind of stress that settles deep in Tony’s bones. They were all having such a good time, too, goddamnit.

Peter thinks of something. Something that he’s always known but never mentioned, because it never came up, because he never found a way to say it that didn’t sound stupid or dumb. But right now, somehow, feels like the right moment. A good distraction on a stuck roller coaster.

“You know, I met you before I ever met you,” Peter says.

Tony opens his eyes and looks at him. “That supposed to mean something? Like in another life? Don’t get cute with me just because we’re stuck hanging upside down—”

“No,” Peter laughs. “Uh—2011, the expo in Queens when all those drone things were destroying shit—uh—you saved me.”

Tony stares at him. “What are you talking about?” he asks, softly.

“I was there with Ben and May, I was wearing an Iron Man helmet and being stupid like kids are, holding up my—fake repulsor at a drone that could have definitely killed me and you—you just—”

“That was you?” Tony asks, his eyes wide. “You? You? This you?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughs. Nice work, kid. “You were already the coolest, but, uh, after that…”

“Wow,” Tony says, staring off, blinking. He’s quiet for a couple long moments. “Sorry. Rebooting. Don’t know if you should have rocked my world while I’m being slowly tortured to death at a carnival.”

“Thought it’d be a good distraction,” Peter says. “So yeah, just thought you should know…you’ve been…saving me since long before you thought you were, Iron Man.”

Tony snorts. “Kid, you, uh…you don’t know what you—”

The restraints loosen a little bit and Peter falls down slightly, because his seat belt is still undone. He feels even more smashed into his seat now, the harness digging hard into his shoulders. There are little yelps from everybody on the coaster and Tony looks at him with wild eyes. He pushes hard on his own restraint and it wobbles in his hands, but it doesn’t come undone.

“Seatbelt!” he yells, as the whole area, coaster and all, lights up around them. “Seatbelt, seatbelt!”

Peter fumbles for it, and there’s a humming sound that he isn’t sure everybody else can hear, and before he can reconnect the seatbelt they go shooting forward, wavering on the track. Everybody is screaming, including the both of them, and not in the we’re having a great time on a roller coaster way, but more in the oh my god I hope we don’t die way. Peter’s seatbelt flaps in the wind as they finish the loop and go through another corkscrew, and then they dip down and loop around one more time before slowly finishing the track and pulling into the station.

He hardly had any time to be afraid or think about what was happening, other than a blank kind of panic, and he figures that’s probably a good thing.

When they stop moving underneath the wooden overhang everybody kinda just sits there as the attendants walk around, unsnapping seatbelts and pulling up the shoulder restraints. Peter’s heart is hammering against his ribs and he looks at Tony, who doesn’t look happy.

“Well, check out all these superheroes,” one man in a plaid shirt says from behind a control panel. “Well, one superhero and nine other people who look like they wanna kill us.”

“No, I wanna kill you too,” Tony says, getting up as soon as he’s able, yanking up Peter’s restraint before the attendant can. He gets up onto the platform and holds out his hand, and Peter takes it, letting him pull him up. He watches as Tony shoots dirty looks at everybody who works here as they walk out, and as soon as they turn the corner they’re met with Steve and Rhodey waiting for them on the other side of the fence.

“Where’s your Hello Kitty?” Tony says, sounding accusatory.

“Gave it to some little girl,” Rhodey says, shrugging.

“Of course, you’re a saint.”

“You were stuck for like, ten minutes, not even,” Rhodey says. “So stop being pissy.”

“Whose idea was it to start the thing up before anybody was ready?” Tony asks, pointing back and forth at the two of them. “I need answers.”

“That’s just how it works, I guess,” Steve says, holding open the door for them to walk out. Other people rush over to their friends and family, and one guy pukes off to the side next to the back of the Tilt-A-Whirl. “What were you gonna do to get ready, anyway?”

“Peter pulled off his goddamn seatbelt and couldn’t put it back on,” Tony says, looking down at him.

“Jesus, kid,” Steve says, worry in his eyes.

Peter shrugs. “Turned out okay, in the end.”

“Yeah, but it could have not,” Tony says, weaving around a few other members from their trapped party. Nobody seems to be taking it very well, and even Tony looks a little heavy on his feet.

“I’m surprised you’re not threatening to sue,” Peter says, as they walk out and into the main area again, putting distance between them and the coaster.

“I should demand to speak to someone, ask for special privileges, like being able to sleep in the Tilt-A-Whirl whenever the hell I want, but any amount of complaining wouldn’t mean shit to them,” Tony says, rubbing his temples. “These carnival people live on their own plane of existence.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Rhodey says.

“You live on your own plane of existence,” Tony says, nudging him.

“Uh huh, uh huh. Okay, what’s next?”

“You think I’m staying here?” Tony nearly yells. “No way, no way, night over, my brain went through the blender hanging like that.”

“So things are normal, then?” Steve asks, smiling at him.

Peter tries not to laugh.

“I don’t want to do anything else,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re such a child,” Rhodey says, steering them over to the closest food cart, boasting fried Oreos and chocolate-stuffed churros. “C’mon. Treats for you and Peter for surviving yet another very scary situation. We’re so proud.”

“Rhodes.”

“What can I get?” Peter asks, looking at the menu. He can definitely do with almost everything they’re offering and Steve insisted hours ago that all of Peter’s food tonight was on him.

“Whatever you want, buddy,” Steve says, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I’ll get something that’ll take me a long time to eat so we can keep Tony here longer,” Peter says, turning to beam at him.

“You’re supposed to be on my team,” Tony says, tapping his own chest.

“I am,” Peter says. “I definitely always will be.”

“Awww, so sweet,” Rhodey says, putting on an over-exaggerated smile.

Tony scoffs but he smiles at Peter, shaking his head. “I need—seven Advil—for one more hour in this deathtrap.”

“Fine,” Steve says, looking at him. “I have some in the car. Natasha made me start carrying it.”

“Because you give her headaches,” Tony says, and laughs at himself. A kid on his phone walks up in line beside them and Peter can hear the video before he sees it—the familiar shattering of glass, mmm Whatcha say, and then Rhodey is pushing Tony aside to make eye contact with the kid.

“Is that the Tony Stark video?” Rhodey asks. “Where he runs into the glass door like an idiot?”

“Yeah,” the kid says, laughing, not looking up to see who the hell he’s talking to. “It’s the best.”

“Okay,” Tony says. “I’m gonna wait in the car.” And then he stomps away.

Peter snorts, laughing and watching him kick up dirt as he walks, weaving around a group of drunk guys and a family holding a bouquet of colorful balloons. “Aw, come on!” Peter yells after him.

“Go get him back,” Steve says, knocking Peter on the arm. “You’re the only one capable, I think.”

“I’ll get you two Oreos and two churros and one funnel cake,” Rhodey says, nodding at him.

“Perfect!” Peter says, and he takes off after Tony. “Hey, Iron Man! Wait! I’m in danger!”

“You are danger,” Tony yells, not turning around.

“That’s not really an insult!” Peter says, and Tony still doesn’t stop walking. “Hey, Mr. Stark, I’m gonna go ride the Colossus again by myself—”

Tony quickly turns, staring him down, and Peter laughs.

“You better not.”

“I’m gonna.”

“I know you’re trying to manipulate me—”

“I loved that ride, it was my favorite—”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to have that goddamn….hazard running again in the next twenty minutes—”

“And I’ll be the first one back on it.”

Tony steps closer and looks like he could breathe fire. “Kid—”

“I won’t if you stop being angry and come back,” Peter says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tony stares at him, and after a moment he holds his chin high. “Bumper cars and food. For the rest of the night. That’s my deal, all or nothing.”

“Deal,” Peter says, holding out his hand for Tony to shake. Tony huffs but he does it, and they turn to start walking back to the food cart where Steve and Rhodey are waiting for their order.

Both Peter and Tony’s phones buzz, and it’s Thor’s tone. Peter fishes it out of his pocket, remembering to be thankful he didn’t lose it on the coaster, and opens the message.

I was just showing my new friends the Whatcha Say video when Bruce showed me the news clip—Spiderboy and Stark, are you still stuck upside down? Rhodes, this one needs music, too!!!!

Peter covers his mouth, laughing, and Tony sighs heavily.

“I regret everything about him having a phone.”

Chapter Text

Peter is under the rubble again.

But it’s different. There are thousands of pounds on top of him, skyscrapers collapsing and his body is broken, bones snapping, blood everywhere. He can’t breathe, his chest is caving in, his lungs are collapsing. He can’t scream, he can’t beg, Spiderman is gone. Spiderman is dwindling in the darkness of his mind, all memory of him wiped away. It’s just Peter—Peter, tears making tracks in the dirt on his face. Peter, sobbing wet sobs that are silent, broken.

Peter, who is dying.

He can only whimper, the pain cutting into his vision, making static in his eyes and all over. His legs are crushed, his arms are twisted, warm blood blots on the back of his head and mats in his hair.

Help me he thinks. I can’t leave May, I can’t leave Ned, MJ.

I can’t die on Tony. Not again.

~

“—doesn’t matter, just call him—no, it’s an emergency—Bruce!”

“Would you like me to call Peter’s aunt, Boss?”

“No—not, not yet—Bruce, help! Help me!”

“Tony—Jesus, what happened—”

“Need Bruce, Steve—Helen too, someone call her—help me, please—”

~

Peter is on Titan alone, or at least he thinks he is. The air feels thicker and he can barely breathe. He feels like his ribs are broken and his heart is broken too, something creeping up his body, something like fear, something like leaving. And then he hears a voice. His own voice.

Tony is next to him then and Peter stumbles towards him, because Tony can save him, Tony can save him, death is winding up his legs and pulling him down but Tony can save him. Peter clings to him and he can’t hear anything anymore, can only feel the vibration of his own voice, his panic, his whole life being yanked out from under him, forcibly uprooted. Tony holds him, holds him tighter when his legs fall away because he’s disintegrating, he’s fucking disintegrating, and Tony lowers him to the ground because he can’t hold him up anymore, because Peter is disappearing, he’s dying, he’s dying—

And he never thought he’d see Tony freeze but Tony is frozen, staring at him, his eyes wide in pure horror and Peter apologizes, freezes himself, and he didn’t know death would actually feel like fading away—

—he sees behind the darkness this time—

It isn’t anything but that, deafening silence, crushing pain, like he’s completely broken but still moving, still searching, lost in darkness. Alone, dead, alone, in his own purgatory that’s nothing, because he’s nothing, he’s a failure—

—he feels their disappointment everywhere. That look May gets on her face when he’s done something stupid. Tony’s silence.

“Please!” he yells, looking up and around, but there’s nothing, darkness, darkness seeping into his bones. “Help me—somebody—Tony, can you hear me? I’m not dead, I’m not dead, please, please—”

He drops to his knees because he feels like the building is collapsing on him again, he’s breaking even more, sobbing and gasping—he hears the echo of his begging, how he begged when he was trapped under the rubble after the Vulture, how he did when he was dying—he hears May screaming when she found out about Ben, that wailing terror of losing someone else, the love of her life gone—and he hears Tony getting stabbed, Peter was too far away to help then, even further now, and he’s broken, gasping, can’t breathe—

~

“—this is more than a nightmare—”

“Peter, listen to me—listen, I’m here—focus on my voice, focus—”

“—heartrate is through the roof, Christ, it’s like he’s in the middle of a fight—”

“—did you treat the cut?”

“Yeah, but more keep cropping up—”

“What the fuck is happening—”

“You saw the note, someone did this to him—”

“Where is May? Where is she—”

“Sam’s grabbing her, should be soon—”

“It’s like someone’s torturing him—”

“Strange, help—”

“Peter. Peter, focus on me. Peter. Peter, come back.”

~

He’s in a back alley in Queens and he’s stumbling against the wet pavement, blood streaming out of his nose. He keeps wiping his face and smearing it but it doesn’t stop dripping. He feels like his ribs are broken, like the concrete is still bearing down on him. It feels dark, darker than usual, and the windows on the coffee shop next to him are blown out, the inside ashes. Peter doesn’t look, limping over to the fence ahead of him.

He hears Ben’s voice in his head. You failed, son.

Peter swallows hard, tears springing to his eyes. He scales the fence, gasping, and tumbles over into the grass on the other side.

You failed me, you failed her, you failed everybody. This is a world without superheroes.

“No, no,” Peter mutters, and he tries not to listen. He doesn’t know where he’s going and his leg hurts more the more he moves, but he keeps going, like a machine. He’s having trouble breathing and it’s like he’s shutting down, like this is his last mission.

He needs to hear May’s voice, he has to talk to her. He fumbles for his phone in his pocket as he keeps struggling through the high grass, and he looks over his shoulder and sees the city go dark. Blackness trickling down the skyscrapers, consuming the bodegas and streetlights. It’s empty.

He selects May’s contact and brings the phone to his ear.

She won’t answer. She doesn’t want to hear from you.

The phone rings and rings and rings. Rings longer than it should, and May doesn’t answer.

Peter brings his hand down, staring at the phone as it drops the call. He calls again, and gets the same response. None at all. He feels like he’s gonna puke, and he wipes the blood off his face again. “Why would she—why would—”

You’re dead to her.

Peter’s face crumples and the tears are hot as he keeps creeping along, his feet sinking in the dirt. He can see the outlines of the darkened buildings and they look sinister—Peter can feel the weight on his back, the crushing pain, and he doesn’t know where he is. He knows this city like the back of his hand but he doesn’t know where he is. He’s lost.

And then he sees them. Growing out of the ground like they came from the earth and not a craftsman’s hand, ghostly and unnatural.

Tombstones.

~

“Honey, honey, sweetheart—”

“His nose is bleeding again—”

“—it’s just getting worse, it’s getting worse, I don’t know how any of this is happening—”

“You’ve gotta figure it out—”

“Jesus, he’s just a kid, who the fuck would do this?”

“He’s Spiderman—”

“Turn him onto his side, he’s gonna vomit again—”

“—haven’t seen anything like this before, the note says eight hours max—”

“—this is a game, they want me to watch him suffer—”

“We’ve gotta get him out! Tony, please—”

“—gotta take control of this, stay on top of the wounds as they come, we gotta get his attention and hopefully that’ll work, that’s the only thing I can think—”

“Peter—Peter, Peter, listen to me, listen, it’s Tony, I’m here—”

“Don’t let him choke, don’t let him—”

~

Peter is frozen, and he falls to his knees without meaning to. He feels sick, he feels sick, he can’t believe it, it can’t be true, it can’t. He’s never wanted to see Tony’s name etched in stone like this, with a beginning and an end, with an epitaph Peter can’t read because he’s crying too hard.

He feels the cement weighing on him, pinning him down. He feels the darkness, the envelope of death, the helplessness and pain and Tony’s face in his final moments.

And now Tony is dead. Tony’s gone, he’s under the ground. Peter closes his eyes and he can see him, moldering, coming apart, his eye sockets empty and his jaw eroding. Covered in dirt and worms, and Peter will never speak to him again, never hug him again, never learn one single new thing from him again—

—Ben is gone, Peter’s parents are gone, Tony is gone. May has finally given up on him, and he knew he’d never be good enough, not after what she’s lost, everything he had to live up to, he wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough—

He leans forward, resting his forehead against the headstone, and everything hurts, his insides pulsing, his bones brittle. His head is pounding like there’s something picking away at his brain. He feels like he’ll never be happy again. He doesn’t deserve it.

He hears Ben’s voice again, disappointment in every syllable.

They don’t need you. No one needs you. You couldn’t save me. You can’t save anyone.

Peter can’t answer. He can’t find his voice. He’s been pushing the sorrow away since Ben died, trying to focus on other things, but it’s swallowing him now. His own death, failing May, and now Tony is dead too. Ned and MJ are next. The city is crumbling. He couldn’t save it.

Peter feels like he never came back. He’s been dead all along and it’s catching up to him, the darkness, wrapping its tendrils around him and hauling him into hell.

He traces the T in Tony’s name with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gasps. “Please, you can’t be gone, you can’t—”

Someone grabs him by his hair and throws him backwards, into the wet grass. His scalp hurts but he doesn’t have time to adjust—they kick him in the stomach and he gasps, his ribs are definitely broken now, and the streak of blood from his nose slips into his mouth.

More figures approach and they’re steeped in darkness but he can see who they are—it’s the Avengers, the Guardians, Rhodey, Doctor Strange—all of them, Tony too, but their eyes are dead. They aren’t speaking, aren’t moving like themselves. Their skin is tinged grey, and they look like they’re deteriorating.

They’re dead. They’re all dead. They’re just there to kill him too.

He holds up his hands in defense when Steve aims a kick to his head but it lands, knocking out his teeth, breaking his nose. Natasha picks him up and throws him, breaking Tony’s headstone in half. Peter’s blood fills in the letters, the dates. The beginning and the end of Tony's life.

May and Ben approach, both crossing their arms over their chest.

“You were a failure,” May spits out, looking at him in disdain.

“We never wanted you,” Ben says. “You were a burden.”

“You ruined our lives.”

“No,” Peter sobs. “Please, you can’t—you can’t mean that, you don’t—”

Thor grabs him next, around the throat, and he squeezes. Peter can’t breathe, he struggles and kicks and gasps. He can feel the concrete on his back. Thor punches him, letting him go, and then Tony approaches, standing over him. He sneers at him, disgusted.

“Taking you under my wing was the biggest mistake I ever made.”

Then they all attack. Kicking, punching, grabbing, pulling, scratching and there’s blood everywhere, his blood, and he can’t fight back, it isn’t in him, he isn’t capable anymore. Spiderman is gone, and Peter Parker is next.

He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can feel the concrete—

~

“—having a seizure, hold him down—”

“—how are we doing on the video, any recognition yet? Follow it through town, we’ve got—”

“—c’mon, baby, please wake up, please honey, you have to—”

“—oh Christ, oh Christ, stitch it—shit, there’s another one—”

“They’re coming in slow, I don’t see any breaks, not yet—”

“—can barely breathe, we need more oxygen, come on—”

“Peter! Peter, listen to my voice. Listen to me. We’re here, we’re not there, we’re waiting on you. We need you back, buddy.”

“How much longer?”

“We have less than two hours left.”

“Then what happens?”

“Then…God, I think we lose him. I think he’ll be stuck there, if this is what I think this is.”

“Come on, Peter—”

“You’re Spiderman, Peter—”

“Honey, honey—”

“Wake up, Pete. Wake up.”

~

They grab him, yank him up, dislocate his arm and Peter can barely see through the blood and the tears, but he can feel the city fall, the city he was supposed to protect, Ned, MJ, they’re in there somewhere but he failed them too, just like he failed everybody else. The Avengers are like zombies, broken machines, and they toss him into an open grave.

He lands hard, almost blacking out, and he tries to focus, tries to live. He struggles to his feet, almost falling again, his legs giving out from under him. “No, please—guys, please, it’s me—there has to—there’s something wrong, none of this is right—”

They start throwing dirt in and Peter struggles, trying to climb out, but he can’t hold on, can’t keep himself up, and they’re tossing it in so fast. They’re burying him alive.

“May, Ben—” he coughs, stumbling, dropping down. “Help me, don’t let them—don’t let them do this! God, please!”

He feels the concrete weighing him down—

They hate him, they want him dead—

May and Ben are gone, they want this, they want this—

Tony’s dead, he’s a shell of himself—

“Tony, please,” Peter sobs. “Please, please, you know me! You know me, please don’t do this, please don’t do this—I’m on your team, I’m, I’m—”

Peter falls through the damp earth, sinks deep until he’s up to his shoulders in it, gasping, stretching and trying to grip something, anything, but they’re still filling the hole, still burying him, and this can’t be happening this can’t be happening it can’t be real, he’s so scared, he’s so fucking scared, it feels like his heart is gonna rip itself out of his chest—

“Peter. Peter.”

“Peter, listen.”

He’s hearing things. He’s dying and he’s hearing things. He gasps, trying to breathe, trying to stay alive. It hurts to move, every time he thrashes he cries out in pain and he gets the dirt in his throat, choking on it.

“Peter, c’mon, buddy. Please, please, Pete.”

~

“—keep trying, keep talking, we don’t have time, we don’t have enough time—”

“—take care of his leg, Bruce, quickly—”

“I think he’s choking—”

“Honey, fight this. Baby, we’re right here. We’re here, we’re waiting for you, you gotta come back to us, sweetheart, c’mon—”

“Helen—”

“I see it—”

“Peter, please. I can’t lose you, kid. I can’t. Not again. Open those eyes, come back. May and I, we’re right here. We’re right here with you.”

~

He’s on Titan and he’s under thousands of pounds of rubble. He’s alone. He doesn’t try to move. Each movement is agony, and he almost wants to die. The pain isn’t worth it anymore, and the whole world is broken. The good memories haunt him, stain themselves on the backs of his eyes—him and May laughing over Thai food, racing through Bryant Park, making stupid commentary on the Teletubbies when their TV was stuck. Tony at that chocolate tasting stealing too many samples and slipping them into Peter’s hands behind his back, saving that litter of cats with him despite his complaining. Finally beating Ned in Star Wars Racer, watching MJ laugh at how dumb she thought they were. Saving Belvedere Castle from collapsing with the Avengers, when Clint bought him a churro after.

Nothing will ever happen again. They regretted bringing him back. He didn’t deserve the second chance.

He lets out a breath.

“Peter.”

It’s May’s voice, but Peter knows he’s hallucinating.

“Whatever is happening to you…it isn’t real. You’re in the compound. You’re here, we’re all here with you. Everyone, we’re all—we’re worried, we’re so worried, honey. You gotta come back. Wake up, you’re here, with us. None of what’s going on in your head is real, baby.”

“Yeah, Pete,” Tony’s voice says, before Peter can even process anything. “Everybody’s here, I know you like the big group hangouts, well, you’ve—you’ve got one. We’re all waiting on you, kid, it’s movie night, your choice, I know—I know you’re wanting to watch ET because I told you I used to cry about it, well—open those eyes, c’mon.”

They both sound choked up. But Tony is dead. May hates him. It can’t be real. He moves a little and winces, the concrete shifting.

He’s dead. He’s dead he’s dead.

“You’ve gotta wake up, Peter,” May says. “You listen right now. This isn’t allowed, we—we went through this before and it isn’t allowed to happen again.”

“You’re necessary, buddy. The world just—it sucks without you, it isn’t right, and we can’t take it, so—we need you.”

“We need you.”

It hurts to breathe but he’s breathing faster, because they sound so sure, so…honest. So real. Like the real life he thought he knew, before he got stuck here in this nightmare.

Is it a nightmare? None of it has felt right, this whole time.

Fuck, everything hurts. He tries to move again, raising up on his arms a little bit, and tears slip out of his eyes, racing down his cheeks. He grits his teeth and collapses down again. Fuck, it hurts, fuck, fuck.

“Peter, please,” May says, and her voice cracks. She sounds like she’s everywhere, getting louder and louder the harder he listens. The concrete weighing him down feels a little lighter. “Please, honey. Please, we need you, we—we love you so much, Peter. We love you.”

“That’s…that’s right,” Tony says, and he’s crying too, Peter can tell. “We love you, kid. The nightmare isn’t real, but we are, we’re here, come back to us. Wake up.”

They love him. Everybody’s there. This isn’t real, but they’re real. They’re waiting for him, they love him, they love him.

He raises himself up again, gritting his teeth and straining hard. “C’mon, Peter,” he gasps. “C’mon, Spiderman, c’mon. You’ve got this. You had it before—you’ve—you’ve got it now. This shit isn’t even real. It isn’t real—it isn’t—it isn’t real.”

“We love you, Peter. We love you.”

“We love you, Pete. C’mon, come back. Come back, we’re right here. Open your eyes.”

“Open your eyes, honey.”

“Come on, kid, you’ve got this.”

“I’ve got this,” Peter gasps, pulling himself up, bracing his feet on the dusky red ground, pushing hard, knocking the concrete off little by little. “I’ve got this, I’ve got this, I’ve—”

~

His eyes shoot open and he instantly feels like he’s dying. He sucks in a breath and there’s so much movement and sound and he winces, a sharp pain in his eyes.

“His senses, his senses, turn the lights down—” Tony’s voice hisses, from close beside him.

Peter realizes he’s wearing an oxygen mask and he reaches up to touch it, but his arms feel like jelly, and they flop like he’s boneless. He can’t see, everything is blurry, only colorful outlines moving in a very white room. He hears a rapid beeping somewhere beside him, and they were right—it seems like there are so many people here, all moving around frantically.

There’s a hand on his cheek, and it slowly and carefully turns his face.

May comes into focus. “Just relax, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out, relax, breathe. We’ve got you, you’re okay.”

He’s starting to be able to see—he’s in the med lab in the compound. He has no goddamn idea how he got here—he was out following that weird guy and the woman he was with, and then—and then—he can’t remember. He can’t remember, he can’t remember.

Tony squeezes his shoulder, grounding him. “We got you, kid, stay with us.”

“He shouldn’t be able to fall back into it once he’s gotten out,” Doctor Strange’s voice says.

“Don’t wanna take any chances,” Tony says.

“Did we cover all his injuries?” Bruce’s voice asks. “Make sure there aren’t any we missed.”

A woman rushes over and starts checking him over, and Peter recognizes her as Helen Cho, who he’s met a couple times here. He feels dizzy, absolutely exhausted. He blinks slowly, looks at May.

“Stay awake, Peter,” she says, sternly.

“Tired,” Peter whispers, still blinking at her. His voice sounds stupid from behind the mask. He tries to think about what happened—he understands everything he went through was some kind of high caliber nightmare, but he can’t understand why his whole body hurts. Like he went through something physically, too.

“Peter,” May starts.

“No, c’mon kid, no rebelling right now,” Tony says, stopping what he’s doing and rushing closer, hovering over him. “Stay awake.”

Peter doesn’t think he can. He feels really bad about it, and he’s definitely not doing it on purpose, because he doesn’t want to go back to sleep, he really, really doesn’t want to go back to sleep after what happened, but he feels like he’s falling. Losing. Hopefully the nightmare isn’t dragging him back.

“Peter, Peter,” Tony says, cupping his other cheek, and both him and May are pleading with him, shaking him.

“Just sleep,” Peter mutters, his eyelids slipping closed. That’s all he hopes it is.

“Tony—”

“Bruce—”

“Peter, come on, buddy—”

“Peter, open your eyes. Open your eyes, honey, come on—”

“Tony, what should we—”

Peter is so, so tired.

~

He opens his eyes what feels like two seconds later, but everything is different. Weak light is streaming in through the windows now, and the beeping, what he assumes is his heartrate, is going a lot slower. Everything is quieter, and when he looks to his right he sees May sleeping in a lounge chair, behind her Bruce is passed out in the far corner, and Tony is sitting on Peter’s left. Awake.

Tony stares at him. “I’m gonna take the mask off, okay?” he asks, softly. Peter nods. Tony leans in and quickly slips it off Peter’s face, putting it aside. He sits back down and stares at him again, and Peter can’t read his expression. He still feels exhausted, like he ran a fucking marathon, or fought off a ton of aliens or something. And got beat up really bad.

“How’re you feeling?” Tony asks, eyes searching Peter’s face.

He doesn’t know if he can answer that honestly. “Not…the best,” he says. Everything still hurts, and the fear of all the horrible shit he saw is still living behind his eyes. He knows it was fake, he knows it, he’s mad at himself for falling for any of it. But imagining it, remembering what it felt like to be there…it makes him wanna throw up.

“Not surprised,” Tony says. “We’re…we’re doing what we can. Just take it easy.”

“Sorry I fell asleep again,” he mutters.

“It’s okay,” Tony says. “We realized it was regular sleep pretty quick when you weren’t thrashing around like you were before.” He sighs, looking down. “You, uh—slept for eighteen hours, so there’s that.”

Peter widens his eyes, blowing out a breath. “How long was the, uh—nightmare?”

“Almost eight hours,” Tony says. He looks up at him again. “Do you remember what happened? Before the nightmare started?”

Peter looks off at the wall. He’s been tailing this Kraven guy and a woman he’s yet to identify for three days now. He hasn’t told Tony yet because he didn’t think it was a big deal, the guy just felt shifty. He was acting weird at the Central Park Zoo, and then Peter found him at the Queens Zoo acting weird as fuck there, too.

“Peter,” Tony says, serious. “I found you, still wearing your Spiderman suit—mid nightmare—outside the compound with a note taped to your chest that said in eight hours he’ll stick this way. You were…trapped…in this horrifying fucking nightmare, that no one could do anything about, and I called Strange and he could barely help me, and it just got worse because fucking…wounds started cropping up all over you. Some of the things you were experiencing in the nightmare were…happening to you, here. You were laying there, thrashing and writhing around, terrified and in pain and getting hurt and all we could do was just sit…just sit there—” He sucks in a shuddering breath, covering his eyes with his hand.

Peter sighs, looking at him. He feels awful, feels like he made some crucial mistake. He can’t remember.

“I saw the people that dropped you on the cameras—well, I saw the guy, identified him as Sergei Kravinoff, goes by Kraven. He’s got a record, he’s associated with some weirdos we’ve run across before. The woman he was with was covering her face, but she was tall, wore a white cape. Does that sound familiar to you?”

Peter knows he can’t hide that it does. He nods his head.

Tony cracks his jaw, and seems to get more intense. “Yeah. Good on you, owning that. I followed the video back, traced it around town, went back over your movements the past couple days. Why the hell would you not mention this to me?”

“Because I didn’t know what it was,” Peter says, clenching his hand at his side. “He was weird, he was acting weird—”

“They could have seen your face,” Tony says, and he looks resigned. “I don’t know if they did, I couldn’t tell, I lost them a few times when they were on their way over here with you, they took out a couple guards, fucked up the perimeter…but they brought you here for a reason. Did that to you and left you here. It was like they wanted to torture me. As Tony Stark, as Iron Man, I don’t know. They succeeded, kid, lemme tell you. I’ve been through some shit in my life, including watching you die once already and this—this is up there. This is way, way up there.” He lets out another shuddering sigh.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Peter says, tears welling up in his eyes. “I was gonna tell you, I just wanted—I wanted to figure out if it was actually something, first. I didn’t wanna bother you with nothing.”

Tony shakes his head at him. “Nothing you bring me is nothing,” he says. “Not ‘I stubbed my toe, Mr. Stark’ or ‘I saw a cool ladybug, Mr. Stark’. Nothing. I wanna hear everything you’ve got to say, you hear me?”

Warmth runs through Peter’s chest. He nods and he’s still crying and he feels so stupid just laying here like an idiot. He twists the sheet in his hand and even his fucking fingers hurt.

“I don’t ever want you to feel that much pain, Peter, Jesus,” Tony says, leaning a little closer. “I wanna avoid that at all costs. Always. Forever. I am here at your disposal and that’s how I want it, whether you think some guy is acting weird when you see him at the zoo or if you don’t like the way a certain building leans. Okay? Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter says, sniffling.

“Christ, kid, you scared me so bad,” Tony says, and one tear escapes, tracking down his cheek before he swipes it away. “Me and May, we were just…losing our minds, it was the worst fucking thing, seeing you like that. I’ll never forget it, I’ll never fucking forget it.”

“It was bad,” Peter says, reaching up and wiping his eyes with wavering fingers. “The nightmare, uh, it was like—all my fears put together. And some things I didn’t even know I was scared of.”

“I think Kraven’s lady did it for him,” Tony says, looking off to the side. “The magic, the spell, whatever the hell it was. Can’t prove it yet, but that’s what Natasha, Clint and Sam are out there working on right now. Steve is tracking him, Scott is on the woman. Thor and Strange are out making sure there aren’t any side effects from something like this. I sent Rhodey and Bucky to the store for all your favorite foods, so you could have what you wanted when you woke up. Everybody’s working for you, kid.”

Peter can’t help it and he laughs wetly, more warmth flooding through his chest. All that, for him. It really makes him feel good. He swallows hard, coughs a little bit. “How did you, uh—how did you get me out? How did you know what to do?”

“We didn’t,” Tony says. “Uh, Strange had a couple ideas from similar experiences, and we just—we watched to see how you reacted to the things we said, and you seemed to react best when it was May and me speaking—and it really started getting through to you when we insisted the nightmare wasn’t real, started telling you that we love you—”

“Mr. Stark, I didn’t…I didn’t know you cared,” Peter says, and he can’t keep himself from laughing a little bit, watching Tony narrow his eyes.

“You’re so dumb,” Tony huffs, and he looks away, avoiding eye contact. “Of course I care. You know I love you, brainless, don’t make me harp on it.”

“Okay, okay,” Peter says, trying to suppress his smile. He thinks back to that moment he told Tony about when they were trapped at the carnival. That starstruck kid at the expo. He wants to go back in time and tell that kid he’ll find a father figure in Tony Stark. That Iron Man loves him and wants him around. Peter can already picture that disbelieving little scowl he used to get on his face.

He still can’t believe it, that Tony is this present in his life. But the evidence is everywhere. In his own existence. In the happiness he builds every day.

Tony lets out a heavy sigh. “May can’t lose you again,” he says, his voice cracking. “And me, I—I can’t either. You’re essential, alright? Who else is gonna get stuck on every single roller coaster on Earth with me? Not Cap, I don’t want that. Not Rhodey, he’d be shitty the whole time—it’s gotta be you, Pete. It’s you.”

Peter smiles, nodding at him. He’s so glad Tony isn’t dead. So glad he sorta feels like he’s gonna pass out under the weight of his relief. He really wants a hug right now but he doesn’t think he’s strong enough to actually ask for one, so he quickly devises a plan. “Mr. Stark, can I—can I have a glass of water?” he asks.

“Of course,” Tony says, patting his arm as he gets up. There’s a sink in the counter on the back wall and Tony walks over to it, fills up a glass, quickly coming back over to him and setting the water on the bedside table. “Lemme help you sit up real fast,” he says.

Tony braces his hands on Peter’s arm and his shoulder and slowly hauls him up. Peter winces, stars dancing in his eyes, but he doesn’t let them distract him from his plan, and as soon as he’s upright he quickly wraps his arms around Tony’s middle, pressing his ear to his chest.

“God, kid,” Tony breathes, laughing a little bit, hugging him back and holding him close. Peter thinks he’s gonna make fun of him for his sneak attack hug, but instead he cards his fingers through Peter’s hair and rests his cheek on top of his head. “Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Peter says, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Oh my God, honey,” May’s voice says, and Peter hears her lounger snap closed. “Oh my God, he’s—Tony, is he alright?”

“Sleeping Beauty has arisen,” Tony says, ruffling Peter’s hair one more time before pulling back and smiling down at him.

Peter turns, watches her rush around the bed, and he opens his arms to meet her in the nearly bone crushing hug she wraps him in. She doesn’t hate him, she loves him, they both love him.

“Oh God, sweetie,” she says, kissing his cheek over and over again. “Thank God. Thank God.”

Peter’s face crumbles with tears and he buries his face in her shoulder, so happy to have her back. He knew she couldn’t hate him. She knows him better than anybody, loves him for who he is.

He feels Tony rubbing his shoulder, and then he feels May grabbing for Tony’s hand.

“You get down here too, Mr. Man,” she says, gasping through her tears, turning a bit to look at Tony without letting go of Peter. “We got him back together, it was me and you in the trenches—”

“That it sure—whoa—”

May tugs him down so he’s perched on the side of the bed with her and draws him into their hug, Tony’s arms wrapping around them both. They all three sigh, all at once, and Peter closes his eyes, breathing them in.

~

Peter takes the next four days off to completely recover, and he and May stay at the compound. He has numerous cuts and bruises, a bad laceration on his forehead and another one on his arm. A broken wrist, two broken fingers, and a bunch of broken ribs. He wonders how bad the healing would have been if he was normal, because it seems like it’s taking forever even with his enhancements. Helen and Bruce hang around, keeping an eye on him.

Tony sends for Ned and MJ and they sleep over one day too, binge watching the first three seasons of Brooklyn Nine Nine with Peter until May yells at them to go to sleep. He has a hard time settling into sleep sometimes, after what happened, but there’s almost always someone close by in case he needs them.

All the Avengers hover around anxiously while Peter recuperates, which makes him emotional because apparently all of them love him too, which has basically been his dream since they became a team. He feels pretty stupid about the whole situation, letting what happened happen to him, but the team finds out that the woman, who calls herself Calypso, is capable of that kind of magic, and more. Tony looks horrified when he hears the news, and Strange informs him that it could have been a lot worse. They catch Calypso and Kraven in the middle of some weird heist at the Queens Zoo, and implicate them in a couple other crimes so they’ll be thrown behind bars for a long time awaiting a trail. It makes Peter feel better, to know they’re not on the street anymore. And Tony apparently pulls a couple other strings that nobody will tell Peter about, but he has a feeling he’s never gonna see these two again.

He startles himself out of a dream he doesn’t remember, finding himself on the couch in the living room of the compound. The TV is on low, playing the news, and he sees Clint sleeping on the other side of the couch, snoring with his mouth open.

“Hey,” Tony’s voice says, from by Peter’s side. “You okay?”

Peter hums, rubbing his eyes and stretching a little bit. “Yeah,” he says, looking up at Tony as he sinks down in his seat a little bit. “Sorry, didn’t mean to…fall asleep.”

“Grandpa over there is already way ahead of you,” Tony says, gesturing towards Clint. “Gotta send him home soon before Laura starts blowing up my phone.”

Peter laughs a little bit, letting out a sigh. “Where’s May?” he asks.

“With Pepper in the kitchen,” Tony says. “They’ll be back in a second. With more wine, if my eavesdropping skills are anything like I want them to be.”

Peter smiles, trying to sit up, and Tony grabs his arm, helping him.

“I’m okay,” Peter says.

“I know.”

“You’re being way more overprotective,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You surprised?” Tony asks, letting go of him.

“No, I guess not,” Peter says. Pretty much everybody is being more protective since it happened, and he’s torn between feeling stupid and being flattered. He sighs, watching something about gas prices on the TV. “What do you think we’ll do if, uh—more people start figuring out who Spiderman is?” he asks. He figures people might be catching on, since he’s been seen with Tony and the others so often in public. The ‘long lost son’ story from TMZ doesn’t really seem to be taking off.

“We’ll deal with it,” Tony says. “The accords aren’t a thing anymore so you don’t have to worry about that, and I’m not letting any official sources out you, so you don’t need to worry about that, either. These assholes only keep going because I let them keep going.”

Peter nods. Strangely enough, he feels like the whole nightmare situation cracked him open, made him face the things he’s been terrified of. Most of them are illogical, like May hating him, Ben being disappointed from wherever he is, and the Avengers turning against him. He knows Tony isn’t invincible, but he’s a lot more hard-headed than Peter gives him credit for. Peter is pretty sure he’s gonna stick around as long as humanly possible, and he’s got the best people on his side to make sure of that. Including Peter himself.

He feels a little bit more like a real person again. More settled and in place where he’s supposed to be. Like he can find the track he’s meant to be on, and it’s not the path of darkness, of death. He’s got a lot of light in his future, a lot of possibilities, and he’s got people who love him. For more than just being Spiderman. For himself and who he is as Peter Parker, too.

Both his and Tony’s phones chime and Tony quickly turns his over in his lap, unlocking it.

“Here we go,” Tony says. “I’ve been waiting for this one.”

“What is it?” Peter asks. It was Natasha’s text tone, which Peter had made the sound of something exploding.

Tony quickly mirrors his phone with the TV, and reads out the message. “Okay—she says Ladies and Gentlemen, from the people who brought you Tony Stark Grand Glass Slam comes the follow up—Kraven the Asshole Loses Teeth. Not for distribution, sorry Rhodey, but you did a good job.”

Peter is already grinning before Tony even plays it, and then he sees what looks like CCTV footage of that Kraven guy, with his leopard print hat and coat combo, walking along in a back alleyway. The camera zooms in just as Natasha comes, taps him on the shoulder, and then slams her fist into his face. Mmmm Whatcha Say starts playing and the image slows down as Kraven’s face turns into some outrageous anime expression, and he spins around, three teeth flying out of his mouth. He makes two complete turns and crumples like a ragdoll, and then Natasha starts kicking him in slow motion.

“Oh my God,” Peter says, smiling so hard his face hurts. “This is amazing.”

“Yeah, you can tell it’s personal,” Tony says. “I think she’s even wearing brass knuckles.”

The song keeps going and just gets more dramatic, and Tony sighs happily.

“Yeah, this one is a lot better than the one with me,” he says.

“But that one is pretty funny,” Peter says, looking up at him.

Tony rolls his eyes but ruffles Peter’s hair. “Only you and Pepper are allowed to laugh at that and that’s final. Maybe May, if she’s mad at me. But you should do it behind my back, keep my delicate sensibilities in mind, c’mon.”

“Hey, hey, what happened?” Clint says, blinking out of sleep.

“We’re watching Natasha’s video,” Tony says, nodding at the TV.

“Oh shit,” Clint says, trying to sit up. “Been looking forward to seeing this. Rhodey’s been hyping it up.”

Tony starts it again, and letting it play on loop. All kinds of tones start ringing out from Peter’s phone, and he opens the messages.

Ugh, unfair, I want a shot at this guy.

Hulk is very interested in ripping this dude a new one. He actually, literally informed me of this.

Nice shot Natasha but I feel like we coulda taught him a better lesson all together.

He’s still got teeth left!

I immensely enjoy this!!!!! We should play this song in battle!!!

Yeah, guy deserves this and much, much more.

And then one more from Natasha—Hope you like it, Peter :)

Tony laughs, beaming down at him. May and Pepper walk back into the room, both holding wine glasses nearly filled to the brim.

“Oh, great, finally,” Pepper says. “Rhodey said we’d get to see this.”

“This a video of that dickhead getting his ass handed to him?” May says, coming up behind the couch and leaning on it.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I don’t understand this song, Pete, it’s stupid.”

Peter snorts. “We gotta watch The OC.”

Tony groans, twisting his neck back, and Pepper laughs at him, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

“At least the scene that inspired the meme,” Peter says.

“I told you the word ‘meme’ is banned from any space I occupy,” Tony says. He gets up, patting Peter on the shoulder. “Alright, starting dinner, so all those idiots better be heading back here. Clint, you going or is the family coming over?”

“Think they’re coming,” Clint says.

“Alright, Pete, text everybody and tell ‘em to hurry back if they wanna eat tonight.”

“You take two hundred years to cook anything, so I think they’ll make it,” Peter says, directing the quip over his shoulder.

“You’ve got too much sass on you, underoos,” Tony says. “Just for that I am going to take—three extra hours than I normally do.”

May walks around, sitting next to Peter. “So I guess we’re not eating tonight?” she asks, looking up at Pepper.

“Happy’s on his way,” Pepper says, rolling her eyes. “Tony says he’s very inspiring in the kitchen. You doing okay, honey?” she asks Peter.

May is running her hand up and down Peter’s arm and Pepper smooths her hand over his forehead. Tony, from wherever he is, is currently humming Mmm Whatcha say really loudly, and Peter smiles.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, yeah. I’m great.” And for once, there’s no fear boiling under his skin. No uncertainty, no weirdness, nothing wrong. He feels safe, he feels confident, he feels right. He feels like himself. Like he can keep moving forward.

He made it.