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It takes exactly 2 days of being back in the land of the living before Tony questions about Peter. Honestly he’d have done it sooner but he was busy being smothered to death (was it too soon to make those jokes?) by Morgan who’d refused to leave his side, even if she only had patchy memories of him, now Eleven and in Middle School already. He’d missed out on nearly six years and he hated how he could relate to the ‘Blipped’ now. Missing so many years of his life while everyone grew and aged without him, it was almost as shit as living those years without everyone . So yeah, between getting to know his daughter again, Pepper sitting down with him and having the awkward conversation on how she’d moved on, the woman had a boyfriend, a stable relationship of two years and Rhodey giving him a stern talking to about dumb decisions he was no longer allowed to make, he’d been busy.
“So, what's Peter up to nowadays? He’d be.. In University? Maybe?” Tony remembered the Spiderling had told him once about wanting to take a Gap year, travel a little, experience things before heading to, hopefully, MIT.
“Who?” Rhodey had asked, Tony raising an eyebrow, a small frown on his features.
“Y’know, Peter? Parker? The Kid I literally saved the world for?” Tony frowned further when no recognition showed in the other man's face.
“Uh yeah no, who? Tony, are you sure you don’t need us to get the Wizard to take a look at your head after all?” And that was enough for Tony to get up, heading down to the basement despite protests he should take it easy. Nobody followed him though, after he waved them off.
He didn’t need to take it easy when something was wrong, something he had to get to the bottom of, even if he’d only been alive two days and was down to three functioning limbs. He’d assumed surely Peter would have kept in contact, he’d envisioned him being a sort of ‘big brother’ type to Morgan as the years went on, he’d always had hopes the two would like each other, both smart beyond their years with the Stark Sass that honestly made Tony question sometimes if Peter was Biologically his. (He wasn’t, Tony definitely didn’t check, honest.)
Once he’d gotten seated at the chair, a holographic screen pulled up, Tony found…nothing. Well that was a lie, of course he found things on Peter Parker but not his Peter Parker. One was a middle aged school teacher in Florida, another a convicted drug runner for a gang in LA, but no Peter Parker from Queens, not His Peter.
Further digging, in the first bit of isolation since his resurrection, had Tony angry, saddened and utterly confused all at once.
He’d found a police report, articles, tributes.
The kid's Aunt May, had apparently died, about a year after he had and to make matters worse, the report he’d hacked into (well FRIDAY but still,) had listed that Spiderman had been at the scene. There was countless write ups of events that occured five years ago, ranging from Spiderman having a period of intense press scrutiny, the source trail leading back to a video from Quentin fucking Beck of all people, attempting to pin terrorist attacks on the same Vigilante who used to save Cats from trees? Tony scoffed at the stupidity of the public who split their opinions for a while. There were also unconfirmed reports of multiple Spidermen? Some weird villains who seemed to vanish after a couple of days, and of course, right in the middle of it was May’s death, which originally had been pinned on Spiderman. Tony felt sick. Even if the police didn’t know the kids identity, the fact Peter had been the prime suspect in his Aunt’s death, had been there. God Tony wished he’d come back sooner, if only to bundle the kid up and keep him safe. Also therapy. Therapy sounded good. He’d pay for it.
Anyway, the deeper he read, things started to get weird, there were unexplained gaps in reports, some videos made little sense, seemingly unedited by FRIDAY’s scans but missing chunks. The obituary for May Parker mentioned her being a Wife and a Daughter but there was no mention of being an Aunt, or a Mother as she’d unofficially been. Putting aside his anger at Quentin, since he was apparently dead and no longer his concern, nor the Villains that cleared out, his concern was Peter. Where was he now and who had he stayed with after May’s death? Happy?
Pulling up his high school records was a no-go, looking into Midtowns history, no one came up under Peter Parker, nor for the Middle School the Kid once mentioned he attended (and hated with a passion.) No dental records, medical check ups, nothing. He couldn’t find a single scrap of evidence that Peter Parker had existed. He’d tried looking into the Kid’s friends a little bit, see where that went, but still nothing, no mentions on social media, no pictures together, no one on their friends list under the name.
“Where are you Peter?” Tony questioned out loud as trail after trail that he followed went dry or never even began. He couldn’t find anything. But he knew, he was certain. Peter had to have been real because Spiderman still existed. Tony’s eyebrows raised, of course, why hadn’t he tried that?
A couple of searches later brought up the latest sightings of Spiderman. He could track the kid down through the Bug! Seemed the Kid was still okay and still in New York, sighted a few times a week all over the City, any time of day, which did not bode well. Tony had hoped surely the kid was in University despite whatever had happened or maybe a job? An apprenticeship? But apparently not because Spiderman sightings had absolutely no pattern.
So that meant Tony had to wing it, unless FRIDAY could work through public CCTV footage and triangulate roughly where the Kid lived now.
“FRI, keep running those scans, I’m going out.”
He couldn’t sit and do nothing but his return wasn’t public knowledge, he had to be careful.
“I’m going out, I have someone I need to go see.” Tony gave a minimal explanation. Pepper quirked an eyebrow, Rhodey tilted his head, the two and Morgan hadn’t let him out of their sights.
“Where? Who? Tony should you really be moving around so much with-” a vague wave was given to his missing arm.
“Yeah, I’m fine and I just need to go see the Wizard after all.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“No I’ll be fine, FRIDAY can drive me.”
“Okay, keep us in the loop.”
One hug later from Morgan and Tony was out of the door of the Lakehouse.
He only felt slightly bad because he wasn’t lying about his intentions but he didn’t correct either of the two on why he was actually seeking out the Wizard, it wasn’t for a check-up like they assumed.
A brief drive from Friday in the least flashiest car that Pepper hadn’t sold and the former Hero arrived at Bleaker Street and was ready to shout at a Wizard.
It ended with said man being punched in the face and no more answers than when he'd arrived.
Peter huffed as he barged into his apartment, door slamming shut behind him, keys launched at the counter. The faint crash and jingle let Peter know they'd landed somewhere but honestly Peter didn't care where exactly. He'd had a shit day, not to say that all his days weren't shit, nearly all of them were now, but today was worse. Jamerson had only paid half his usual for his photos on the basis that they painted Spider-Man in too good of a light, the photos depicting the hero saving an old lady from a stolen car chase, frozen in fear mid-crossing. Peter was just glad he'd reached her in time but yeah, Jamerson took them because nobody could get pictures like Peter but the pay… The price cut, the deductions, Peter had been doing the maths in his head and he'd be behind on rent at this rate. Again. Which he couldn't afford to be, he was already on his last warning for late rent. He really needed this place, he'd gone through several apartments already, never able to keep them longer than a year, be it rent or noise disruption which in his defence wasn't him, it was the Parasite that had infected him at the time, nothing worked out for long and Peter couldn't hold down any other job, never knowing when he'd need to dash out and be Spider-Man.
"Hey Ben." Peter mumbled to the Cacti on the chipped window ledge, the paint cracked and peeling. The Cactus, of course, naturally didn't reply, because Cacti can't speak, but Peter hummed anyway. As soon as his camera and bag were dumped on his bed Peter grabbed a cup of water from the tap.
"Here you go Ben." He spoke softly while he watered the plant. He couldn't have pets in this complex not that he couldn't afford one anyway so Cactus Ben was his only company.
Once Ben was watered the young adult headed back into the crappy kitchen to pull something to eat out of the cupboards. All he could find was disappointment and cereal.
"Looks like it's Rice Krispies for dinner again Ben."
And so, face illuminated by the slowly setting sun streaming through his window, Peter Parker sat in silence, consuming the last remnants of a box of cereal while his Spider Metabolism begged for more substance.
“I think we’ll have to move again soon, Ben.” Peter sighed, he liked this apartment, it felt a little like his first, small, compact, a shit view but full of noise. He liked being able to hear the people of the city, he enjoyed the occasional excited squeals from the twin girls that lived above, and the lively singing the man next door did in his shower, he liked being able to hear the people he risked his life for daily, knowing they got to keep living their lives because of his actions. Maybe it was creepy, Peter didn’t know considering his only real social interaction was with Jamerson or his PA. He’d tried going into Delmars once, only for the man to deny his requests, some mumbled words under his breath about picky kids. It felt wrong, that the man who’d been a family friend for so long thought of him as just another of the thousands of New York Teenagers. He hadn’t been back since no matter how much he missed the best sandwiches in Queens.
“I know, Ben. I liked this place too, I just don’t think Mr Cassidy will appreciate me being late on rent again.” Peter continued, trying to imagine the little Cacti talking back, because God was he lonely. The highlight of his days now was talking to Victims, which again probably sounded terrible but it was the most Peter got to talk to other humans. The nicest were those he helped in mundane situations, perhaps helping the elderly carry their shopping or aiding kids who lost their ball or their frisbee or whatever else in trees or over fences or onto building roofs. It was nice just to talk to someone.
“Fitz, you in there?” The banging knocks to the door startled Peter, whose sixth sense failed to warn him about his landlord's approach. He’d been zoned out a lot lately, senses feeling dulled. Peter wasn’t sure if it was the lack of food or just his general negative mood.
Peter remained silent, hoping the man would leave.
“Fitz?!” Another hammering against the door before the man scoffed from behind the wood, tutting and turning on his heels, something muttered under his breath about fucking kids thinking they’re except from rules as though Peter was some sort of terrible person who was purposely skipping his rent money instead of struggling to make ends meet between his sporadic needs to go save someone as his Vigilante Alter-Ego and his shitty freelance job at the Bugle.
“Yeah, guess it's back to apartment hunting, Ben.” Peter concluded “Mr Cassidy sounds pissed, I thought I had a few more days.”
“Parker? Nah man, I haven’t had any tenants with that name.”
“None?”
“Nope, what did you say his first name was?”
“Peter.”
“Mhh.” The man hummed, thoughtful before he frowned. “I had a Peter Fitzpatrick a couple months but the kid was always skipping his rent, kicked him out back in October.” The man explained.
“Fitzpatrick? What did he look like, did he look like this?” Tony fumbled into his wallet to tug out the only picture he had left, the only scrap of evidence that seemingly hadn’t been affected by the stupid spell, the one they’d taken as fake proof of an internship. It had sat by his sink for years after the blip, had given him the push to save the world, and it was all he had left as proof he wasn’t crazy, that somewhere out there was Peter Parker.
“Uh, I guess? It could look like him?” The man, Neal, offered. “Kid was skinnier and his hair was darker but it looks close enough.”
“Do you know where he went? Do you have any contact details for him?” Tony urged, the closest lead he’d had for weeks.
“No idea man. I don’t store information after tenants leave.”
“Do you not have anything? At all? I’ll pay you.”
“The hell, man, I don’t have anything, piss off, are you some sort of fucking Perv?” The man spat once Tony started sounding desperate.
“No, I promise, I just need to find him.” Tony couldn’t stop the slightly hysteric tone to his voice.
“Get out, I don’t care, Kid ain’t my problem anymore.”
Tony was half way ready to reveal his identity to get the man to talk when a flash of red and blue drew his attention to the windows. Holy Spiderman.
“If I wasn’t in a hurry, I’d sue your ass.” Tony grumbled, turning to flee the building as quickly as possible to try and catch another glance of the kid. It was harder than expected since he could hardly call up a suit. Ironman died with Tony Stark and he did not need to be seen in broad daylight chasing after a Vigilante with such sudden terrible press. Instead, in a terrible decision, Tony cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled the one thing he knew he could without revealing the kids identity.
“Underoos!”
And then the Spiderling slammed into a wall. Hard. Fuck.
Tony was surging forward instantly when Peter collapsed onto the sidewalk, clearly one broken arm and likely a nasty headache, the Spiderling flinched at the contact, and the rest of New York continued on their way, as if seeing a hero slam into a wall was as likely as a cat stuck in a tree.
“This isn’t real-” Peter gasped under the mask, struggling out of the hold Tony instantly had on him, hands around on wrist (the unbroken arm) to keep the kid from fleeing after he’d been searching for days.
“It’s real Kiddo. I promise. I’m back.”
“You died- I-”
“Yeah well apparently it didn’t stick.” Tony shot a smile and the Spiderkid shuddered.
“Are you sure you’re real?”
“Really real.”
“Prove it!”
“One time you made us watch Wall-E together and you cried your heart out when you thought he was dead and you made me promise not to tell anyone ever that you-”
“Okay stop stop, don’t- Okay.” An uneven breath and then the kid was launching into his arms, despite his injuries and face planting a wall.
“You’re back. I’m so sorry I couldn’t- I didn’t-”
“Hey, none of that, let me get you home?”
“Uh- Okay.”
With a few odd looks, Tony managed to get Peter back to what was apparently his apartment (which no, his child was not staying here any longer.) Got him out of the suit and into some casual clothes before they had a look at his arm, splitting the thing.
“So, Pete, wanna explain why I come back to life to find out nobody knows who you are? I punched a wizard in the face and even he didn’t remember you…”
“Oh uh.. Well.. it’s a long story…” Peter rambled, still in awe that Tony was really back, sat in his crappy apartment and could remember him… How long had it been since someone called his name with recognition? That someone actually wanted to spend time with him? Talk to him outside of the mask? And so, before Peter could tell his story, he cried. Six years of tears and hurt and loss that flooded from his eyes and against Tony’s shoulder at the hug he’d been pulled into, because they were finally there.
“I’m here Kid, I promise.” Was all Tony said, a soothing hand rubbing at Peter’s back and that was all he’d needed, dreamt of for years.
Finally.