Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter always wondered if he’d go with a bang. If he’d keep on his feet until he was the only one left standing, turn all cool-like to the other Avengers with a Harrison Ford smile, and just pass out in a graceful way. Like, everyone would probably be like “dang, I really miss Peter because he’s so cool and suave, but that was such a cool death.”. Maybe the Daily Bugle would say something about it. Something less awful than usual, hopefully.

He’d hoped that it wouldn’t hurt.

He’d hoped that he’d die saving people.

It doesn’t hurt, he guesses. And he did save the Guardians from being ejected into space before they kinda crumbled to dust. So if that makes up for not being able to pull off Thanos’s glove, then he’d hit the mark.

But it didn’t feel like it was worth anything. It didn’t feel like anything but terror.

He didn’t want to go.

“I don’t wanna go Mr.Stark, please I don’t wanna go-”

He apologizes.

He goes.

.

..

…

Stark sees his opening. They’d corner the major asshole that was Thanos on some decrepit planet that had fallen to nothing.

“It was Gamora’s planet” the blue girl - Nebula - had said, predicting that that would be where the god would be. The god of bullshit. Going back to the planet of his slaughtered daughter, where he kidnapped her and killed half her people. God of bullshit and asshole-ery.

(He tries not to think of the planet where his…. where Peter was. He wondered where the wind carried him)

They’d found Thanos - sleeping, of all things, and took advantage of the moment. Cap decks him right in the face with all his might, and Thor just swings his axe through his wrist. The gauntlet fall with a clunk, and the big blue bitch is screaming something as he wakes up behind his back, but Tony doesn’t care. He grabs the gauntlet, pulls out the oozing hand, and takes off for the other side of the planet while Cap and Thor pummel the much weaker man to almost nothing. He deserves it.

Banner’s waiting back on their ship.

“This is an awful idea Tony, I mean awful. ”

Tony didn’t give a shit.

When he puts his hand in the gauntlet, he feels like his whole being is ripped to shreds. But he pictures the kid, his kid crying for help as he turned to dust and apologizing for it because this blue Shrek thought that he could play god and massacre half the universe.

He should think of the other half of the universe. He should consider what Cap is feeling, or think of Wanda or Fury or everyone else who was lost or lost someone, but really, he only cared about bringing Peter back.

He wills for the Universe to right itself.

The universe listens.

Not even twenty seconds after he launches back away from the gauntlet, a portal with orange rings opens beside him.

.

..

...

And then suddenly he’s… back.

Dying was weird. In hindsight, if he wasn’t so terrified it wouldn’t be so bad. Turning into dust really didn’t hurt as much as being crushed by that building. It really just kind of tickled, honestly. And after he died, there was nothing. If his brain hadn’t been powdered, he might have had some flashbacks or he’d start dreaming as it happened, but that stuff just doesn’t go down if you don’t have a brain to do it, apparently. Total rip-off. If death had a manager, he’d ask for a refund.

Being dead was…. nothing. There was nothing. He really didn’t have any feeling about that.

But honestly, coming back sucked.

It didn’t happen all at once. He was built back together piece by piece, particle by particle. He felt his skin form first, creating a shell that protected the ashy organs inside. His brain came back first, at least parts of it. He was aware of the muscles twisting back to existence and the organs blooming from nothing. Peter couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move. All he could think of was “ where’s Mr.Stark? where’s Mr.Stark? is he dead? am I dead? I want to go home I want to go home I don’t wanna die, please- ”

And suddenly he can breathe.

He takes in a lungful of stale air with a large gasp, flailing upright as he did so. He coughed up dust and felt like passing out because did he just die? Is he, like, not dead?

And suddenly there are hands on his shoulders, and he think “Tony!” but when he looks up, it’s the other white human dude from before. He looked just as frazzled as Peter felt, but evidently was handling the whole dead thing better than the fifteen year old, because at least he wasn’t having a panic attack and coughing up dust.

“Hey, hey kid it’s me, Peter - oh,shit his name is Peter too, right? Okay, uhhhh.” The man tried, waving his hands like he was trying to figure out what to do “It’s Starlord. You, know, the one that decked Thanos in the face?”

“The one that woke Thanos up from Mantis’ sleep?” the hulking blue man chimed in, looking vaguely indifferent and oh god they were all stuck in purgatory or something-

“Oh, shut up, you did the same thing on Knowhere!” Starlord shouted back, taking a deep breath and turning back to the kid.

“Look, kid, I don’t really know what happened, but we’re back now. You’re the last one to reform for whatever reason, but even that DnD character popped back up. But he, uh, he sorta ditched the second he stood up, so-”

“Where’s Mr.Stark?” Peter interrupts, chest still heaving. Starlord - what a stupid name- made an “uh” sound and looked to the others, who shrugged.

This sucked.

“Well, my guess is that he didn’t get dustified. ‘Cause Thanos only killed half the universe, so I’m guessing him and Nebula made it through the rapture.” the man explains, with nods from the others encouraging him on. “So my guess is that he went after Thanos again, and maybe him and his team were the ones who brought us back.”

Okay, so Tony was probably alive. Which was good, really, really good. And yeah, it was probably the Avengers that fixed everything, so that means that most of them were fine and probably had his back, so double good.

But the kinda awkward silence that fell on Titan was less than good, and he still was stuck in the midst of a panic attack, so that kinda sucked.

“Maybe we should take the boy back to the ship? Being outside is distressing him.” the weird alien girl said - Mantis, that’s her name.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, good plan. Uppsy-daisy, Spider-kid.”

And then Peter was off the hard ground and being carried like a toddler back to their ship.

“Where are we going?” Peter asks, to exhausted to really sound indignant.

“The ship! It’s a cool ship, ‘cause it’s my ship - I’m the captain, by the way - and after that? I’m not really sure. Maybe we’ll run you home, since your wizard ride kind of ditched you back there.” Starlord says as they walk up a metal ramp.

Oh, the ship is cool. If Peter had an ounce of energy left in him, he’d go check out the glowing tubes in the corner.

Starlord sets him down on a bench in the corner, where he slumped and curled up in the corner. Mantis brought over a glass of… water? Whatever, Peter was literally dust ten minutes ago, he’s not being picky right now.

The engines fired up, and Peter felt the ship rumble as they took off towards the dark reaches of space. Peter winced at the shock, his sense feeling overwhelmed in an instant. He felt the glass in his hand crack a little.

“Kinda nice how we came back with our clothes, right?”

Peter looks up at Starlord, who was leaning against the opposite wall a few feet away. When Peter didn’t respond, he continued.

“Like, we could have been dusted without it affecting our clothes and just woken up butt naked on this dirty planet, but like, we have all our cool clothes.” Starlord explains, waving his hands to gesticulate. “It kinda makes un-dying less awful, I guess.”

“It’s like Jake Long.” Peter adds in, voice still quiet. Starlord doesn’t get the reference, and Peter goes on to explain the greatest Disney TV show of all time, and how the character would somehow just transform into a dragon without ripping his clothes to shreds and reappear with them on.

“Maybe he just stores them somewhere inside his dragon form? Like how kangaroos can hold shit in their pouches? That’s my theory.”

The conversation carries through a lot of pop culture references (“I liked Back to the Future, but I wasn’t a fan of the sequels.” “There were sequels ?”) and after a while, Peter didn’t feel like he’d just died anymore. He was still curled up in a corner, still covered in the dumb dust, but the panic in his chest had simmered down. He looked off to his right and saw the planet fade away, blurring until it was a spinning red ball. He died there.

The conversation lulled, and they both looked out at the planet. They’d all died there.

“How long have you been spider-ing?”

It’s asked in a quiet tone, which Peter appreciated. He could still hear the rumblings of the engines, even in space.

“I got my powers when I turned fourteen, and started being Spiderman a month after that so… a little over a year? Almost two, I think.”

Starlord gave a low whistle at that, and Peter turned to him with practiced indignity.

“What?” Peter asked with a defensive tone. But the other man didn’t have that patronizing look that Tony got sometimes, when he wanted to use Peter’s age against him in an argument. He looked kinda… impressed.

“That’s awhile.” Starlord comments, nodding a little bit to emphasize the point. “You’re what, fifteen? So that means you’ve been spider-ing for 1/15th of your life.”

Peter smiled for the first time at that point. What? He’s a sucker for compliments. It was nice to have someone older look at him and go “Sick job, kid” rather than act like he was a baby with a flamethrower.

“I started space-pirating when I was like, ten, so I couldn’t give you grief without being a hypocrite or something.” Starlord adds, with a softer look on his face. “I used to hate that my life got uprooted, but honestly? Being a space pirate is cool, man. Like, if I’d stayed on Earth I’d be, like, an accountant or some shit. But I’ve literally gotten drunk on a moving comet when I was seventeen, so it’s fine.”

Peter almost laughed at the story, ease trickling back into his body. He looked back to the planet, a distant red dot the size a pencil eraser by now.

“I was actually gonna go see a exhibit on comets and meteors the day that Thanos came.” Peter says softly. “I was on a bus going across the Brooklyn Bridge when the space doughnut fell on Washington Park.”

Starlord looked at him for a moment, like he was heavily considering something. Peter focused on the red dot, ignoring the look the best he could. It was kinda creepy, and Peter was reminded that he knew this dude for a culmination of maybe like an hour.

“Hey, kiddo.”Starlord starts slowly, like he’s considering his words. “How would you feel if we took the long way home? Not super long! Just to check out, like, an actual asteroid. To, you know, make up for that field trip that Thanos crashed.”

Peter looks at the other man with wide eyes. Cruising the galaxy in a space ship with space pirates and seeing an actual asteroid ? Jeez, Ned would be freaking out-

Ned. Ned, MJ, and Aunt May. They don’t know that he’s okay. And neither does Tony.

He thinks back to the look on Tony’s face as he crumbled to dust.

He should go back.

“... How much longer will it take?”

He needs to let everyone know that he’s alive.

“I dunno, maybe a week? Probably a week.”

It’s a bad idea to take a vacation when everyone thinks he’s dead.

He thinks of Tony’s face. He doesn’t think he can look at him any time soon, not after doing that to him.

“If it’s a week? I’m in.”

He’s such a dick.

.

..

…

“What do you mean, you forgot the kid?!”

Thanos wasn’t dust, but he was pulverized to essentially nothing at this point. Robo-girl was still stabbing his corpse, which was concerning to say the least, but he was concerned about much more important things.

Like his kid being abandoned on a dirt planet across the galaxy.

Strange, for his part, looks mildly mortified. He was looking off to the side, preferring to watch the corpse stabbing rather than look Tony in the eye. Steve looked like he wanted to just go home, but he was smart enough to keep him yapper shut while Tony tore into Strange.

“Well, when I came back the Time Stone called to me, so I immediately came here.” he explained, tone defensive. “And the boy was still being reformed, but the Guardians were all awake, so-”

“ Still being reformed?” Tony nearly shrieked, making everyone flinch. “He was being reformed and you ditch him with space pirates? We knew them for less than an hour, Jesus fucking Christ-”

“Tony-” Steve tried to intervene, raising a placating hand that Tony was willing to bite off if it came within a foot of him.

“Shut up, Cap! You know that Barnes is gonna be chilling with a fucking margarita in hand when get back, you can’t talk!”

“Strange.” Cap says, completely ignoring Tony’s outburst. Strange is looking back at the man with a look of gratitude which is squashed by the vaguely disappointed look of the bearded man’s face.

“You shouldn’t have left Spiderman on that planet, but can’t you just open up another portal to just get him back?” Strange has a look of revelation on his face, and Tony feels like crying.

“Oh my god, we could’ve done this ten minutes ago-”

“Stark, I came back to life ten minutes ago, you cannot complain-”

“Strange!” Captain shouts, exasperated. “Can you please open a portal back to Titan?”

“Yeah, open a portal to see if the kid is reformed yet-”

“Tony, for the love of God, shut up.”

Strange opens a portal after a moment, and Tony immediately jumps through. His chest is heaving with adrenaline, because this is the place, that’s the rock where Peter turned to dust, oh my god there’s footprints .

“Where’s the kid?” Cap asks, poking his head through the portal. Tony follows the footprints and sees a damn chemtrail going straight up into space.

“Oh my god, my kid got kidnapped by space pirates.” Tony wheezes, and Steve puts a stupid comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sure they’re just bringing him back.” Steve rationalizes, and Tony’s considering blasting a hole through the man’s chest when suddenly a bing appears on his faceplate.

“FRIDAY, what is it?” he asked, temporarily distracted by the fact that he shouldn’t really be able to get any, you know, signal where he was.

“It’s a message from Peter’s suit.” Karen says, as Tony feels his breath catch. “Would you like to hear the message?”

“ Yes, yes, oh my god play the damn message-”

“Hey Mr. Stark!” The kid’s voice chirps through the sound clip. He sounds like he usually does after a really shitty fight. Exhausted, rattled, but covering it with a thin veil of optimism. It makes Tony want to cry. “I’m not sure if this’ll get to you, but I’m hooked up to the Guardian’s telecommunications system, so it should be able to find you? Maybe? I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but I just want to let you know that I’m gonna be gone for a week. I told Peter - uh, Starlord - that I was about to see an exhibit on asteroids, so he thought it might be a good idea to just show me a real one!”

“You better not say what I think you’re going to say” Tony wheezes. “Because if you say it, you’re going to be so grounded that you’ll never see the light of day again.”

“So I, uh, I think I’ll be checking that out before I head back. You know, taking advantage of my opportunities and all.”

Damn it.

Somebody said something in the background that Tony couldn’t pick up on, but it made Peter pause.

“Alright, so we’re about to go into warp drive - this is so cool - so I’m gonna have to end this transmission. But I got up, like, a minuet after Strange left? And we entered orbit like five minutes after that, so if you wanna use that as a place of measurement for how long it took this message to get to wherever you are. But I’ll be back maybe a week from when I send this? I guess we’ll just find out. Sorry I’m not coming back immediately I just - I just need a minute, I guess. But I will be back. Let everyone know, if you can.So, uh, see you later.”

The transmission ended, and Tony felt like he was going to pass out.

“Tony? What was it?” Steve asked, genuinely concerned now.

“We missed him by five minutes.” Tony says through gritted teeth. “Five minutes, and he decided to go play hooky with space pirates.”

He was going to scream.

Chapter Text

When they return back to Earth, they land in Wakanda.

When Tony asked if they could make it through the security even with magic, Steve gave him a look akin to what a dog give you if you try and grab at their favorite toy. The calm threat is enough to have Tony put his hands up in surrender, muttering “You can be the first to be vaporized when you cross over.”

Steve is the first one to jump through, immediately spinning in a circle as if Barnes would just happen to be standing there waiting for him. Thor follows immediately after, and when they don’t immediately get vaporized, Tony takes it as an okay to haul himself and Bruce through the circle. They, too, make it through without being zapped into nothing. Tony looks back in the circle and gives a short wave goodbye to Nebula and Strange. Nebula was going to do whatever space people do with the ship they left there, and Strange honestly couldn’t care about what the results in Wakanda were, now that he has his stone back and Thanos isn’t likely to come after it again.

Neither of them return the wave, and the portal closes. Assholes.

He turns back to see the rolling landscape of Wakanda. And with it, the very threatening band of Dora Milaje who happened to be at that specific region at the time of their arrival. Steve’s lost puppy eyes were probably the only reason that they didn’t have their weapons raised. That, and the king standing amongst them with a smile on his face.

“T’Challa!” Steve exclaims, looking the most alive he has since… well, ever. And that’s saying something, because he saw the look on that man’s face when he decked a sleeping Thanos in the face. Yeah, good two-shoed star-spangled American boy, his ass .

The two men come together for a hug, doing some hefty back slaps. And if Tony’s being honest, it’s a very moving sight. If there was a photographer here for the moment, they could probably sell their photos for thousands to TIME Magazine. He’s sure Okoye was even smiling a bit, which he’s certainly never seen before. Of course, that could just be Tony.

The pair released each other, but Steve still gripped T’Challa’s forearms with furrowed brows and a hard set to his jaw, his face falling into that of serious concern.

“Did he - uh, did everyone make it back?” Steve asks, fooling absolutely no one with who he was really asking for. T’Challa never stopped smiling, but it dimmed a bit at the question. It left a heavy weight in Tony’s chest that he’d rather not think about.

“Everyone who was … vaporized has returned in the shape that they were in the moment Thanos activate the gauntlet, yes. However,” his eyes slid over to Tony, his next words clearly meant for him. “Anyone who died of other means were not revived. Unfortunately, I believe that they will not be coming back.”

“Vision.” Tony says, with an empty finality with his voice. It’s not a question, he obviously knew that Vision probably wouldn’t come back - he asked the universe to save those who had been unfairly killed. And yeah, that should include Vision and that girl that got Quill worked up, but it’s never that fair. He knew this.

It still hurt. Very badly. Guess it’s his final goodbye to the mind of the man who took care of him.

T’Challa had a look on his face like he understood. No pity involved, he just gave a small nod to Tony and turned back to Steve, smiling again.

“Come, Captain. I am certain that James Barnes will be very eager to see you.”

The walk to the main hub-palace-thing wasn’t very long, however time probably passed a little faster with the entertainment that was a Steve visibly trying to stifle his excitement. It had been seven months since Thanos decimated half the population, and every moment Steve had been looking forward to this. It was probably the only thing keeping him going.

When they reached the palace-hub, Bucky was already on the steps. He was wearing the same battle clothes that he’d worn when the whole ordeal happened, and he was drinking some orange drink with clear agitation on his face, eyes flickering between the pathway that they were on and the poor princess trying to hold a conversation with him. She was smiling, so perhaps she didn’t mind his distraction too much.

The moment that Steve came into view, Barnes shoved his glass over to a laughing Shuri, who said something along the lines of “James, I cannot drink this.” which was clearly ignored as Barnes came down the steps two at a time. Cap, in return, speed his power walk up to a near jog until the two met with a hug, Barnes’ feet actually leaving the ground for a moment before Steve curls down and shakes for a moment.

Tony remembers the week following the event. He’d returned home, and there was a strange silence over everything. Even with the day it took him to come back, the air was still filled with shock. The Wakandans had no king, and no king’s fruit to replace T’Challa. Nat and Bruce were the first to greet him, and he soon found that Rhodey was still here - thank God- and so was Cap. But with one look on the man’s face, he knew that was it. His eyes had sunken in, back hunched over and the skin on his knuckles ripped to shreds. Neither Sam or Barnes would let this happen to him. Jesus, he lost both of his best friends in this bullshit.

It was in that moment that he forgave Steve. Maybe it was because he finally understood why Steve fought so hard to protect his closest friends, if this is what he became without them. Maybe it was because he lost Peter, too.

(And yeah, the kid had been in his life for a little over a year, which is nothing compared to the near century between Barnes and Cap, but then he thought about the dream he had the night before Thanos’ people came, about his kid being held by his other kid and he just-)

He just had to work on getting Steve to forgive him, back. And when he saw the distant relief on Cap’s face when he saw him walking towards him. He looked around Tony, eyes becoming a little clearer.

“Just you?” Steve asks, voice horse like he hadn’t used it all day. Tony felt a lump in his throat that he hasn’t felt in years. He nods, swallowing it away.

“Yeah, just me.” he tries to make it sound ambivalent. His voice cracks, so there goes that. But when he looks at Steve’s bruised eyes, he thinks he saw a look of shared pain that he hadn’t seen in awhile. It made him clear his throat and try again.

“We’re gonna get them back, Steve.” Tony promises, taking a step forward as Cap’s eyes harden in a way that makes him look distant. “No, you listen to me. We will get them back. If Thanos can do some cosmic voodoo bullshit to make them leave, the laws of equivalent exchange says that we can get them back. So straighten the fuck up, soldier, because we have a busy few weeks ahead of us.”

And yeah, maybe his schedule was a little off, but hey they got there. And looking at the two cling to each other, he briefly wished that he got to actually talk to his kid, not just hear some wobbly explanation for why he wasn’t coming home. He wished he could actually touch him and see that he wouldn’t crumble away again. He wanted to make sure that he was alright.

But he was on some stupid space roadtrip, and he’s not actually his kid, no matter how much it feels like it sometimes. Damn it, he had the gray hairs to prove it to the little shit. To him, that’s as much evidence of being a father as have damn stretch marks,

“You’re a damn idiot, Steve, who the hell goes after Thanos with four other people?” Oh yeah, the heartfelt reunion is still going on. At least they’ve gotten to the chastising bit, that’s fun.

They move the party inside to a large dining room. Falcon waited there, waiting eagerly for his friend to come back. Tony was forced to endure Reunion Part Two for another five minutes before they settled down enough to eat some damn food.

In the meantime, Steve sits between Sam and Barnes, talking avidly between the three of them. Rhodey, Bruce, Thor, and Tony sat on the opposite side of the table, choosing to stay silent as the three caught up.

“Yeah, I honestly thought I just got hit in the head and was about to pass out, but like, worse.” Bucky admitted, taking a drink from another orange drink. “I sorta figure I just passed out when everything faded away, but then I woke up right where I was and you were gone, so I figured something was up.”

“Yeah, at least you weren’t in a damn bush when you woke up.” Sam countered, avidly ignoring the clear moment that the last words caused. “It had fucking thorns, Steve. It was awful.”

Listening to them, Tony wondered how Peter handled it. He knew that he didn’t get the ignorant bliss that Bucky had, and he’d woken up surrounded by strangers on a dirt planet light years away.

(“I don’t wanna go Mr.Stark, please I don’t wanna go- ”)

He quietly set down his fork, but maybe it clanked or maybe the look on his face was more obvious than he’d thought, because both Bucky and Sam glanced at him, then around him. They seemed to simultaneously realize the very obvious lack of an over talkative kid hanging off his shoulder. It’s dead silent for a moment, and Tony grits his teeth at it. It’s not like the kid’s dead-

“This is some good soup.” Bruce said abruptly, shoulders visibly tense. He was decidedly looking away from Tony. “Great soup, really.”

“I agree.” Steve added quickly, looking at Tony with a small smile. “Very good soup.”

Maybe he’d forgiven him, after all.

“Honestly? I’ve had better.” Thor adds, unhelpfully. “Clearly there is too much pepper for it to be truly enjoyable.”

.

..

…

Peter knows that something is off balance within the spacecraft he’s on.

It’s not like it’s awkward or anything. Starlord had taken to the helm to punch in coordinates and check up on any transmissions they may have gotten (some of which were… unnervingly threatening, which Starlord and Drax would laugh off in a disconcerting way) while Mantis and Drax relaxed in the loft above the main living space. They even had music, even though it was almost archaic rock from the 60’s to the 80’s.

But it looked like sometimes certain songs would come on and Starlord would look up excitedly to his right, only for the excited gleam to leave his eye as he clenched his jaw and looked forward. Even though he looked interested in Peter’s questions on the ship’s mechanics (of which there are a lot ), his back still curves over the controls in the most isolating way, and his eyes stare out into the cosmos as though he’s making new constellations as they go, searching for something. Peter hasn’t known the man for more than half a day now, but he knows something is off. And yeah, maybe probing the space captain that you hardly know for sensitive information isn’t the best idea if you know that said spaceship has a vacuum tube for ejecting things, but hey, he’s gotta be a friendly neighborhood Spiderman even if it’s not his neighborhood.

That doesn’t really make sense, but you get what he means.

So after Starlord scrounges up some strange yellow fruit that has the texture of an orange but the taste of cookie dough for dinner, Peter decides to take his chances.

“Hey, Starlord.” Peter asks, after he’s wiping the strange juice from the fruit off his hands. Starlord looks up from where he’d been sitting at the little table behind the control chair, still slurping up some of the fruit.

“What’s up, kiddo?” and maybe Peter has some constipated look on his face, because the other man sits up straight with a panicked look in his eye. “Oh my God, are you allergic to the space fruit? Please tell me you’re not, like, actively asphyxiating right now because I do not have the medical experience for that.”

“What? No!” Peter responds, getting emotional whiplash from the unexpected response. “No, I’m good, I guess. I just wanted to, uh-” he pauses for a moment, looking from his sticky hands to the man at the table. “I wanted to ask if you’re alright? I mean, you don’t have to respond or anything, but you just seem kinda down.”

Starlord stares at him for a moment, expression hard and the silence is heavy.

Oh God, Peter thinks, he’s gonna throw me out the airlock.

A moment before Peter opens his mouth to back the hell up, Starlord sighs, then thumps his head on the table.

“Everything sucks.” he states, and Peter can’t help but agree.

“I’ve been going through the transmissions a lot because I was hoping to get a signal from this one ship.” he continues, arms folded with this chin resting on top of them now. “It was this ship that was destroyed by Thanos to get to one of the Infinity Stones. A bunch of people died - like, a lot. I was just,” he pauses, swallowing a bit. “ I was hoping that maybe, when whatever brought us back happened, maybe it just brought back everyone that got hurt by Thanos. But I’ve looked and there’s… there’s nothing. I don’t think they’re coming back.”

Peter swallows the small lump in his throat. He doesn’t know what happened on Earth after the whole space doughnut incident, but he knows the Avengers had to face off against Thanos after he got all the stones. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here.

For a moment, Peter wonders if that transmission he sent to Tony’s suit even reached anywhere at all. If he unknowingly gave it no destination. It made his head feel light.

“You lost someone to him?” Peter asks, so he can stop his train of thought. Starlord hummed.

“Yeah, my, uh- something” he pauses for a moment, then continued. “She was a big something. And she was also Thanos’ step-daughter, and he sacrificed her to get the soul stone.”

“I get that, kinda.” Peter adds when Starlord pauses for a moment. “I mean - she didn’t die. But this girl that I crushed on for like, two years asked me to go with her to homecoming. Which was super cool, and I was really hyped for it. But it turns out her dad was this dude who dressed up in a metal falcon suit and we had some beef, so he dropped a building on me and tried to steal Tony’s stealth jet on the night of homecoming.” Peter paused, then added. “Tony is Iron Man, by the way.”

Starlord looked at him for a moment after he stopped speaking, then a huge grin broke out on his face as he began laughing, pressing his face into his folded arms to muffle the sound. It was mildly concerning, given the conversation.

“Oh-oh my god kid.” the man huffs out between laughs. “How long ago was that?”

“Like, a year ago? Maybe?” Peter squeaks out, and the laughter only gets harder.

“Oh jeez kid, you have the shittiest luck, really.” Starlord says as he sits up, leaning his back against the seat behind him. He’s sitting up straight.

“That’s rough, buddy.”

At those words, Peter chokes out an unexpected laugh that actually catches Starlord off guard this time. But, oh god, he doesn’t even know the cultural reference of those words, and that just made it better.

He’s not sure if laughing over their shitty situations is the best way to cope, but at least Starlord wasn’t looking so depressed anymore.

At the commotion, Drax decided to make his grand entrance by leaping from the loft to the floor below, a move that has Peter leaping and sticking to the wall he’d been leaning against in surprise. This only makes Starlord laugh harder, and Drax joins in at the look of bewilderment on Peter’s face.

“Hah! The spider child looks terrified!” Drax says merrily, and Peter momentarily questions his choices leading him here in that moment. “Now I understand why you were laughing so much, this is very entertaining to look at.”

Peter, despite the warm feeling on the tips of his ears, gives into the atmosphere and laughs along with them. It distracts him from the heavy stone that had been left in his chest since he died, and it makes him feel a little less guilty for avoiding his problems on Earth.

Jeez, he really is a dick.

Chapter Text

Tony can’t blame Peter for avoiding his problems on Earth. Hell, the majority of his own teenage years were composed of driving fast down the narrow roads of Burbank with a few bottles of something or another in the passenger seat just to avoid his own problems; which, in all honesty, were much less significant in comparison to what the kid has gone through. And this is only his first time disappearing in order to ditch the shitshow that was his life, so hey, he’s already that much better than Tony.

So yeah, it would be hypocritical of Tony to judge Parker for taking a week long vacation before coming back to the emotional hellscape that was Earth, especially now that everyone’s trying to figure out how to deal with the rebirth of all those who were - to say it bluntly - removed by Thanos a few months back. Maybe he can judge the fact that the kid chose to go on a interstellar road trip in order to avoid these issues, but hey, we all gotta do what we gotta do. Tony may be a little upset, but he can’t blame him. If anything, he’s been doing the same thing in Wakanda; sitting in the least used living room that looks out onto the Wakandan forests rather than checking the news for updates on the chaos that the world was in.

But looking at the phone in his hand, staring blankly at the contact named Mama Mia, he’s feeling a little bit of resent towards the kid.

Tony has to call her. He should have called her yesterday, when he first got back. That should have been the first thing he did when he stepped through that portal: call Peter’s aunt. Tony has always felt a ugly, awful sense of relief that he never had to call her in the first place. No Parker survived Thanos’ bullshit sacrifice, which to Tony helped prove that the universe really had it out for him and everything he cared about. Or maybe it was trying to spare him the pain of having to apologize for not being able to save the kid. Nobody was waiting at home for him, when it happened. Tony didn’t have to call anyone.

(which was honest to god horseshit, the entire surviving population of the universe should have cared about Peter)

But karma has come knocking on his door with a baseball bat full of nails, now that everyone is very suddenly back and looking for answers. Tony really can’t complain.

He goes to start the call three times, each time he hesitated right before he hit the call button. It’s inevitable, he can’t just not call May. Well, technically he could. It would be the most asshole-ish thing in the world, but it’s a possibility.

'Let everyone know, if you can.'

Direct quote from the little pooch-screwer himself. And he could absolutely let everyone know. It is within his “can” capabilities.

With a fortifying breath, Tony hits call.

It hardly rang before the call went through. Tony was midway through rubbing his face to compose himself when May’s almost out of breath voice came through the receiver.

“Tony?”

“May. Yeah, it’s me.” Tony says, feeling much less prepared than he thought. “I should’ve called yesterday, but-”

“Is he with you?” She was urgent, cutting through Tony’s bullshit. “Was he with you when - when whatever the hell that was happened?”

“He was with me, yes.” Tony sighed, trying the think of a way to phrase this. “Long story short, the kid followed me onto that spaceship that attacked Washington Square Park. It took us to another planet - I told him not to come, May.” he says in a rush, the feelings of anxiety filling his chest like the buzz of a hundred flies around spoiled meat. “I told him not to come, but he snuck onto the ship anyways.”

“Well, that sounds like Peter.” May responds, voice laced with anxiety. Tony hums in response.

“He was one of those to disappear. And he did so on the planet, which became a major issue when I brought everyone back.” Tony pauses, staring out the windows into the Wakandan forests. “He’s alive. He sent me a transmission. But - alright, there’s no way to say this without sounding crazy.”

“Tony, I found out that my nephew was bitten by a radioactive spider and decided to fight crime in his PJs and I rolled with it. I can handle whatever you’re about to say.”

Well, when she puts it like that.

“We weren’t alone when we fought Thanos on Titan. There was another group of these - honestly, I don’t even know what you can call them. Space pirates? I don’t know, they were on our side. Well, they woke up at the same time that Peter did, and I guess Peter charmed the hell out of them because they decided to take him along some kind of spaceship joyride to come back to Earth. Consensually, may I add. Peter sent me a transmission from their spacecraft before they went into warp speed or whatever the hell they do.” Tony hasn’t particularly relayed this information to anyone else, so it’s coming out much faster than what he’d have liked. “But he seemed fine? Vaguely shaken, but overall excited to go play hooky with some aliens. One of which happened to be human, although I have no clue how a human got up there without everyone knowing. I’d also like to add that I do no condone the pipsqueak’s actions, but I’m just pretending he’s on some school trip and I feel better.”

Yeah, if he had any control over his mouth he absolutely would have omitted that last bit, but maybe she’ll take it as a joke rather than the very painful truth.

He’s not sure how she’s taking the whole thing in the first place. Granted, he did just blatantly tell her that her nephew was MIA in the galaxy with a bunch of space pirates (did he really have to call them space pirates?), but the silence is killing him. He almost continues with some random rant just to fill the silence, but her voice halts him.

“Do you think he’s safe?”

It’s a quiet, simple question. It almost shocks Tony with the contrast of her voice against his. He doesn’t pause before answering.

“Yes.” He says, a steady conviction in his voice. “I can’t tell you how I know, all I can tell you is that I’m certain of it.”

And suddenly, May laughs. It’s startling enough that Tony nearly fumbles his phone.

“May, are you - uh - alright?” There’s a strain to his voice at the near insanity of the situation, and the woman laughs for a second longer before composing herself.

“No, I’m fine Tony. I’m great. I’ve spent the last twenty four hours expecting you to call and tell me that he dead or near dead and you call me and say that he’s just, what, blowing off steam?” she laughs again, the relief clear in her voice. “Tony, if he’s safe, I’m happy. Would I be happier if he wasn’t with some strange aliens that we hardly know? Probably. But I’ve called like eight different precincts and three other hospitals just waiting to find out if he was anywhere in New York.” She takes in a deep breath and pauses for a moment. In the background, Tony can make out the sound of beeps and someone speaking over an intercom. It makes him pause.

“What’s that beeping? Where are you?”

“Work.” May says, mildly exasperated. “At least they gave me the rest of the afternoon off yesterday. But there’s a lot of people who came back who were in… the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. Everyone re-appeared where they were when they disappeared in the first place, so there’s been a lot of car accidents.”

Tony winces. “Oof, sounds like a fun time.”

“Yeah, actually there’s a group of people that were landing at JFK when it happened. Luckily they were at the end of the runway and going pretty slow, but it’s still somewhat surreal to see.” She discloses, probably violating several HIPPA codes with the joke. “Anyways, I should get back to work. I’ve probably used up the last of everyone’s pity by sneaking into this old lady’s room for this call - she’s been unconscious for the three days, don’t worry.”

Tony very abruptly realizes where the kid gets it from.

“Oh, well that’s fine. Concerning on all parts, but fine.”

The call ends after an exchange of goodbyes and a promise for updates if he gets them, and Tony stares out into the forests as he takes a deep breath.

The phone call went… surprisingly well. It should have been a lot worse. He’s pretty sure that if he’d asked Strange for all the ways the call could have ended up, he’d lucked out with the best possible outcome.

He slides the StarkPhone into the back pocket of his jeans and sighs as he looks up at the sky, the blueness blocking away the vast darkness filled with stars and galaxies. Somewhere in all that was some seventeen year old superpowered kid, wandering space light years away from home. God, he’s getting gray hairs just thinking about it.

He wonders if he can ask Strange if this was a part of the best outcome, too.

.

..

…

When Peter Parker was a kid, he had asthma. It was to be expected, given that the little apartment that he lived in with his parents was old and always a little dusty, combined with the dirty air that came with living in the city. By the time he hit eleven, he’d outgrown it like most kids. Before that, he used to have at least a minor attack once a week. Running around for too long and not eating enough did that to him. But he remembered once, when he and his friend Harry were playing around in Harry’s dad’s office building, he’d run into some room where something was causing a lot of smoke, enough to make his eyes water. He only sucked in one breath of the smoke before running out of there. Unfortunately, one breath had been enough to spark up the worst asthma attack he’d ever have. It took ten minutes for Harry to figure out what was wrong, and another fifteen before Harry got his dad to pay enough attention to call for help. By the time help arrived, Peter’s legs felt like pins and needles and the tips of his fingers were numb like he’d been out in the cold all day. It was the first time that OsCorps ever threatened his life, he used to joke.

He’s not sure why his brain does it, but it links that distant memory to the much more recent one of him dissolving into nothing, and throws in the feeling of a building collapsing on top of him. Maybe it’s because of the gradually numbing, or the buzz of panic that gradually filled him as time passed. But either way, his brain put the three together to make the worst nightmare cocktail of them all.

For the past two nights he’s spent on Starlord’s spacecraft (“she’s called Milano, after this girl I had a crush on.”), Peter’s had this recurring nightmare. Or sleep paralysis, he’s not sure. All he knows is that the second that he reaches that state between awake and dreaming, he starts to feel that awful buzzing. Enough that it starts a ringing in his ears. The buzzing makes it feel like he’s turning into nothing, so slow that it’s almost impossible to perceive. Along with that, he slowly loses his ability to breath. Maybe he sucks in, but the air just never reaches his lungs. It’s like they’ve already dissolved into nothing.

He’s not sure how long these dreams last, or if he’s really not breathing that whole time. All he knows is that it always gets to a point when the ringing becomes too loud, the buzzing becomes too violent, and his lungs need air so desperately that it wakes him away from sleep. Hours usually seem to pass in what feels like a minute, and he never feels like he’s rested at all. But he covers it up and goes to talk to whoever is around, usually Drax or Starlord. They hardly ever notice it, usually just making some comment over the fact that he’s basically just a bug and gossiping about the latest transmissions they hear over the radio.

It makes him feel better, and sometimes he forgets that the dreams even happen. But they don’t stop.

This time, though, it’s different. It’s different because he doesn’t wake up from the dream itself. Rather, it’s the cool, too-smooth hand on his cheek, followed by an abrupt choking sound.

He shoots up, sucking in a deep breath like he has for the past two nights before looking around wildly. He’s in a little room that they designated as his room (it apparently used to belong to some sort of sentient racoon, and it smells like it). In the darkness, he can make out the smaller figure that can only belong to Mantis.

“W-What are you doing here?” Peter asks, pulling the bedsheets up to cover his chest despite being dressed in the T shirt that he wore under his suit. Mantis turned on the light, making them both flinch with the brightness.

“I felt your pain,” she said, a sadness to her voice. “I could feel that you were having nightmares, even from across the ship.”

“Oh,” Peter replies, still catching his breath. “I’m… sorry?”

“I didn’t come here for an apology, spider boy.” Mantis said simply, innocently using the incorrect title. “I came here to see if I could help. I used to always help with nightmares.”

Peter stares at her, uncertain with what to say. Half of him was still passed out, and that half was nudging him to just lay down and try sleeping again, despite what had happened the last three times he tried. The other half was urging him to reassure her that, yeah, he had nightmares, but he could deal with them.

Neither halves got what they wanted, as she quickly made her way to his bed. She moved with her hands by her chest and her back hunched, just like a praying mantis. It was disconcerting to the poor teen, and he pulled his sheets higher up on his chest as his eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, Peter. I can help.” She said, placing a finger on his forehead like E.T. “Sleep.”

It was like a massive wave crashing over him, and he was dragged under. He hardly even felt himself hit his head against the headboard, and he certainly didn’t hear Mants’ surprised squeak in response.

He woke up to Mantis curled up in the corner of his room, pillows and blankets assorted into a little nest. His eyes felt like stones were tied to each eyelash, but he somehow felt more rested than he had since… well, since before he became Spiderman, to be honest. As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed and out towards the little kitchen a little ways down the hall. He’d rather not wake Mantis up, in a quiet way to return the favor. Upon reaching the kitchen, he startled as he realized that there was the larger Peter waiting for him, holding a bowl of cereal to his chest and a very intense look to his eye.

“Uh,” Peter began, clearing his throat “I didn’t know that they had cereal in space. Is that Captain Crunch?”

“Uh uh uh, little Pete, I’m the one asking questions.” Starlord states, gesticulating with a spoon. “But to answer that - yeah, I get them sent here from a guy I know. Don’t ask how he gets them, just know that a good portion of our budget goes to the Captain, so you better appreciate him.”

At this, Starlord holds out another bowl. Upon inspecting the cereal, Peter came to realize the 1. They probably had to substitute the milk with something else, which was evident by the strange glowing blue liquid that filled the majority of the bowl and 2. This was not Captain Crunch, rather, it was some Wal Mart knockoff brand that was probably a few bucks cheaper. Peter didn’t have the heart to comment on either, so he accepted the bowl with a quiet “Thank you.”

“No problem, little Pete.” Starlord commented, again using the nickname that the trio had created for him, along with the contrast Big Pete for Starlord. “More importantly, I heard from a little alien insect bird that someone was having nightmares and not telling me.”

That explained the weirdly accusatory tone that the man had held while offering him cereal. Peter sighed, stirring the cereal with his spoon. The liquid shimmered as it moved.

“It’s not a big deal, I’ve been having nightmares for, like, two years now.” Peter answered, thinking back to all the recurring gunshots and the groan of steel and cement giving way over his head. “I’m pretty used to them by now, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Except that I do.” Starlord said, the tone of his voice somewhat reminiscent to that of Tony’s when Peter did this kind of thing. “Look, kiddo, I’m not trying to like dad you or anything. Steel Man or whatever his name is has that covered-”

“He’s not my dad -”

“Nope!” Starlord exclaims, holding up a finger. “Nuh-uh, the adult is talking. Like I was saying, Iron-Dad probably has the the whole mentoring-y thing covered, but he’s like a billion light years away right now, so I’m legally required to take deal with your bed wetting situation.”

“What- I haven’t wet my bed!” Peter spluttered, ears going red. “No beds have been wet! It’s just the same bad dreams that I’ve been having.”

Starlord hummed, staring him down with an uncomfortable amount of intensity as he slowly brought up a spoonful of the off brand cereal to his mouth. Peter looked off to the side, tapping his foot to fill the silence that the awful, awful situation had created. Maybe he could just walk out of there? It’s not like Starlord could stop him, he’s still human (Peter’s not sure if he believes the whole half god thing, especially since he’s seen what Thor can do in some videos. Now that’s a god.)

Before he can test his theory, Starlord sets the bowl down on the counter behind him, letting out a big sigh that turn into a loud groan, freezing Peter in his place.

“Ohhhhh my god, I hate this. This sucks, I’m never doing this again.” The man groaned, leaning back and wiping a hand over his face. He stood up and looked at the petrified teen. “Look kiddo, I’m not gonna force you to tell me what goes down in your head when it’s lights out, but just know that there’s not one person on this ship who won’t get it, alright? I have dreams about my dad, Drax has his on his family, and Mantis - honestly I’ve never seen Mantis sleep unless she’s been knocked out, but she gets it. But what I’m getting at is - you’re not alone in dealing with the boogie man, alright? Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it.”

Peter grips his bowl, looking at the crumbs on the floor. It was weird. Back home, everyone had nightmares too - definitely ones worse than he did. And he knew this. So when they saw the small bags under his eyes and the way he flinched in Tony’s shop when a steel beam fell, and when they gently prodded with ‘you doing okay, kid?’s and ‘If you ever need any help, about anything, let us know. We can help.’s, he just smiled and nodded and commented about how the crime has changed in the last year. He never lets them know, they have enough on their plate. Plus, how would they even take him seriously if they knew about the dreams? They wouldn’t. Tony’s always one step away from benching him - Peter can tell. He doesn’t want to add fuel to that fire.

But when Starlord stares him down and tells him that he can talk, that they won’t think any different of him - it feels different. It doesn’t feel like he’s some kid playing dress up in the big leagues. It feels… he doesn’t know how this feels. It’s new. Something along the lines of safe and comfort, but not really either of those tones.

“Hey, uh, do me a favor and say something? Because that felt worse than throwing up, and the whole silence thing is like eating straight salt -”

“Thanks.” Peter says, cutting him off. He’s still staring at the crumbs - they should really sweep up in here - but his voice is soft. “I don’t - I’m bad at talking, but if I ever need anything, I’ll ask.”

A heavy hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed, causing Peter to look up. Starlord gave him a small smile, and Peter felt his first moment of peace since he left his school bus.

“Alright! Good talk kid - God, I feel like a dad.” The older Peter exclaimed, completely shattering the moment. Peter smiled.

“You’re old enough to be my dad, technically.” Peter offered with a small smile, finally lifting up a spoonful of cereal. “If you got an early start.”

“I’m gonna throw you out the goddamn airlock, do not test me.”

The cereal was soggy, and the grain grated against his tongue. There was no pile of rubble on his chest, and he was wasn’t fading away. Safe and whole, he dodged the hands of his newest friend without spilling a drop of space milk.

Safe and whole.

Chapter Text

“Wait, hold on, you’re telling me that Captain America just comes back from the dead? And he’s a war criminal now?”

Peter laughed as Starlord gripped his hair in distress, clearly overwhelmed by the new information that, yes, World War II hero Captain America is back, and yes, he is wanted by most nations around the world. Peter got the news when he was, like, six, so the shock factor was pretty mild. It was more like a surprise pinata at a birthday party than the return of the world’s most iconic war hero, but he can’t be blamed. Starlord, on the other hand, apparently adored Captain America when he was a kid during his short time on Earth, and therefore he took the news with enthusiasm and disbelief - despite not hearing the name since his life on Earth decades ago.

If Peter were kinder, he’d clarify that he was back for eight years before being declared a war criminal, and hardly anyone but the government really considered him a threat.

(And Peter, to some extent. He remembers the glimpse of the helicopter that carried Colonel Rhodes and Mr. Stark out. You can’t really idolize heroes after you see them tear each other apart, apparently.)

However, seeing the distressed look on the spaceman’s face made the little cruel side of Peter come out.

“Bucky Barnes came back, too. And he’s an even bigger war criminal.” Peter announced, a wild grin on his face as he dropped the Bucky bomb on him.

“ What?!”

“We’re approaching the asteroid.” Mantis announced, voice sweet. “We should be there in about an hour.”

Peter (to Starlord’s distress) turns away from the conversation in order to look out the large bay windows. In the distance, a bright blue star shone brightly, the solar aches so powerful that they were visible, half rings extending and winding around the star. It tinted everything in a pale blue light, each little rock that blocked light leaving a trail of shadows that extend for what must be hundreds of miles behind them. It was magnificent in a way that Peter had never experienced, in a way that he only ever dreamed of experiencing. He felt very small, in that moment. In the best way possible, he felt like only a piece of stardust in the entire universe.

“Why did we take him to Vega? Betelgeuse is a much grander star.” Drax weighted in, looking generally uninterested in the spectacle before him.

“Because Bette is about three weeks in the other direction, also it’s covered in flesh eating space crabs.” Starlord responded, finally recovering from his episode. “We’re not traumatizing the kid anymore by making him fight space crabs.”

“It is the best way to heal one’s mind!”

“I’m not even gonna argue with you about this.” Starlord answered, turning away from the window. “Everyone get ready to land on the asteroid. The air isn’t toxic to any of us, but it’s thin, so bring something that you can breathe from if you need it. Also it’s really close to the star, so wear tank tops or something, I don’t know.”

Everyone scattered and retreated to their respective rooms to prepare. Peter was practically buzzing with excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet to get rid of some of his excess energy welling up inside of him. Yeah, being in a spaceship is super cool and hasn’t really lost any of its charm, but being in such a small area was… difficult, for Peter, considering that he grew up spending most of his time walking around and has recently picked up swinging down streets for miles on end. Being stuck in a spaceship that was a little bigger than his aunt’s apartment was a little tiring for the kid.

So the thought of finally being able to move around outside, especially with that outside consisting of an asteroid lit by a blue star? It was a dream for Peter. A very, very tangible dream that he was about to experience in about forty five minutes.

Grabbing the little backpack that the Iron Spider suit turned into (of course Tony modelled the folded up version of the Iron Spider after a kid’s backpack, absolutely no surprises there), Peter slung the straps over his shoulders and tapped a little fingerprint reading square that activated the suit. Nano tech unfurled from the pack, spreading out over him where he stood. It was always a little disconcerting, when the suit closed around his head and suddenly his senses were dulled to a regular level until he told the suit otherwise. Blinking the unsettling sensation away, Peter took a step towards the little porthole that looked outside the ship.

His cabin was on the opposite side of the ship from the hanger, and so his view was of all the stars that they had passed when warping through the cosmos (honestly, just thinking about it was cool). With the harsh light emitting from the blue star behind him, it was harder to see the vast expanse of space before him. The suit - intuitive as always - picked up on his intentions as contrasted the stars from the darkness that surrounded them.

And in an instant, Peter saw further than ever before. It was like one of those infinity rooms, with mirrors and lights creating a galaxy in a regular room. Except larger, and more colorful. Every possible color filled the dark exterior in little pin pricks of brightness, enhanced by the suit. Peter’s breath caught.

He wondered for a moment if he was looking in the general direction of earth. If he could just go out and launch in on very specific direction and eventually - eventually being over 25 light-years, but still - landing on Earth. He wondered what Earth was like, now that everyone was back. Everyone but him.

Has anyone noticed that he hasn’t been back?

Tony might’ve gotten his message by now, but that’s a big ‘might’ve’. If he hadn’t, then there’s a big chance that he just never remembered to look for Peter in the first place. It had been a few months, and there was probably a lot of stuff he needed to focus on down on Earth anyways. It probably just slipped his mind, which is totally understandable. Afterall, he is just some kid from Queens. It’s fine.

(Peter doesn’t know why the thought makes him want to puke, though. Probably just motion sickness.)

May would definitely notice. And Peter feels bad for leaving her like that, but he knows that it’ll be fine when he comes back to Earth. Yeah, she’ll be worried, but once she hears about the fact that he didn’t pass up the opportunity to space travel then she’d understand, he’s certain of it. Then they can just watch some super old 80’s movie, and everything will be fine. It’ll be fine.

He doesn’t know how long he’s standing there, but eventually there’s a dull ‘thunk thunk’ as someone knocked on the steel door of his cabin. Whipping around, Peter squeaks out a surprised “Come in!”

The door slides open, and Drax towers in the entrance. Peter is frozen still.

“Why does your voice squeak like that?”

God.

“Like what?” Peter asks, desperately trying to hide the crack in his voice.

“Like that! Why? Why does it do that?” Drax presses, completely ignorant to Peter’s desperate attempts to cover the pubescent intonations that he still hasn’t completely outgrown. Peter clears his throat before answering.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Peter says with an attempt at a deeper voice. Drax scrunches up his nose in distaste.

“You humans all do this. I have lived with Quill for years and he does the same thing with his voice. It’s exhausting to understand.” Drax laments, looking vaguely upset. Peter, still frozen, swallows before attempting a response.

“I’m… sorry?”

Drax huffs, looking indifferent again. Peter’s not certain if it’s a success or not.

“Quill told me to tell you that we’ll be landing in five minutes, so you must be prepared at the deck as soon as possible.”

Five minutes? Jeez, how long had he been just staring out the window for?

“Alright!” Peter responded, voice squeaking at the start. Drax made a face akin to a light snarl before shutting his door and leaving.

Peter slumped down onto his bed, staring at the wall across from him and breathing in and out a few times to settle his stomach. The contrast the overwhelming excitement for the upcoming trip and the deep exhaustion he felt thinking of Earth had him emotionally whipped, so he gave himself a few seconds to re-calibrate himself. Staring at the slate gray of the wall across from him, Peter took a steadying breath before standing up, shaking himself with a few little jumps, and walking out his door towards the airlock deck down the hall.

Everyone but Starlord was there, relaxing by the door. The man himself was at the controls, working on finding a safe spot to land on.

“Is everyone back there?” Starlord called from where he sat. A chorus of ‘yes’s responded.

“Well, hold onto something, because this landing might be a little bit-”

And suddenly there was a massive lurch, unexpected and fast. Peter latched onto the wall and held tight, while Drax grabbed a handle and placed a steadying hand on Mantis. The ship groaned as it skidded across the bumpy surface of the asteroid before coming to a slow stop. Slowly, Peter released the wall as Starlord came bounding back.

“Welcome to the unnamed-asteroid-on-Vega!” Starlord announced, ignoring the shaken child in front of him.

“That landing sucked.” Drax responded bluntly.

“You suck.”

As this exchange went on, Starlord began typing a code on the keypad by the door. He paused and looked behind him.

“Does everyone have breathing stuff?” Starlord asked. Peter pointed to his suit, Mantis held up some squid-like mask, and Drax shrugged. Starlord seemed unsurprised, and he tapped the disk by his ear so his helmet extended over his head.

“Alrighty then! Behold, an asteroid!”

The airlock behind them shut and the door in front of them opened, causing the air in the cabin to whip around violently before stabilizing with the outside atmosphere. Immediately, the Iron Spider suit listed off the gases and elements that filled the air, and deemed the atmosphere to be “below acceptable but not deadly”, in layman’s terms.

The asteroid was… different, from what he imagined. He’s not sure what he imagined, but this was much more sci-fi than anything his brain was expecting. Tall ridges surrounded him, reaching to hundreds of feet high, like a mountain range. It reached to be around as tall as the Freedom Tower in New York, or maybe the Washington Monument he scaled in D.C. The rock itself was a collage of different colors - blue, reds, and grays marbling together in the most surreal way. It was amazing.

As he stepped outside, he immediately felt the change in gravity. Each little step had him floating for a moment before touching down again, like he had cable attached to his back.

“Whoaaaaa.” Peter laughed, taking a light jump and flailing his arms as he went nearly as high as he would with double that strength. It was dangerous, and if Tony were here he’d be yelling at him to “Stay on the ground, kid, that’s how it works.” But Tony’s not here. Starlord is.

“Bet you can’t jump up onto that ledge!” Starlord exclaimed, pointing to a ledge that’s easily sixty feet tall. On Earth, he can jump maybe fifteen feet at best. Peter smiled as he felt a rush of adrenaline, and he launched himself off the ground with full force.

He soared into the air at an overwhelming speed. A small scream left his lips at the unexpected momentum, followed by a series of laughs as he approached his target.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god-” Peter exclaimed, becoming more and more higher pitch as he began passing his target. In a panic, he quickly shot out a web towards the rock, pulling himself down to the ledge and landing on his hands in knees to keep from tumbling forward. Taking a breath, he (carefully) stood up and rose two arms above his head, crowing down to the others below. Starlord yelled back, then attempted to make the same jump, only to go maybe eight feet up before sinking down. Drax’s laugh was audible from up where Peter stood.

For the next few hours, they messed around with the asteroid’s gravity field, mostly with Peter teaching them moves that would regularly be impossible to them. Starlord executed each of them with an exaggerated cry that came straight from a bad 80’s kung-fu movie. Mantis squealed, but landed each movie pretty perfectly. Drax couldn’t even do a flip without flailing his arms out with an aggravated cry that made Peter laugh, and then they’d spend the next ten minutes trying to catch him as he jumped and swung around the asteroid.

It was like being on a rollercoaster - constant adrenaline, a lot of screaming, and even more laughing. He hadn’t felt like this since he first started swinging - at least not in a fun way. A lot of not fun rollercoasters, but this was better than those. Much better, in his opinion.

After awhile, he started using the extra steel spider-leg-things that came with the suit to chip off bit of the asteroid to take back home. He made three pockets: pretty ones for May, science-y ones for Tony and Ned, and cool looking ones for MJ. With each find, a warm feeling filled his chest as he imagined giving all of them cool space souvenirs. They can’t be angry at him for ditching is he brought back souvenirs, right?

“Not gonna lie, those weird extra leg things really creep me out, man.”

Peter turns around to see Starlord, landing softly on the ledge where Peter stood. Peter sent him a smile that he couldn’t see.

“Oh - sorry, yeah, they’re kinda weird. Kinda furry-ish, but I think the mining abilities make up for that.”

Starlord makes a vaguely confused noise, and Peter huffs out a laugh. Hasn’t been to Earth since he was a child in the 80’s, right, he doesn’t know what a furry is.

“So, worth it?” Starlord asks, gesturing to the rock they stood on. “Or are you gonna call Iron-Dad to come pick you up and simultaneously blow up our ship? ‘Cause I’d like a little bit of notice if that’s what’s gonna go down.”

“It’s definitely worth it.” Peter said, currently in too good of a mood to respond to the Iron-Dad comment. “I never really thought I’d be able to, y’know, do something like this. At least, not for fun.”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget how amazing it is.” Starlord says softly, tapping the disk by his ear to reveal his face. A gentle expression was settled on his face as he looked upon the view from the ledge of the asteroid. “I grew up with so many amazing things, sometimes I forget how lucky I am.”

“I get that.” Peter responds, smiling as he thought of Aunt May and Uncle Ben. “Completely different situation, but the same feeling.”

“Funny how that works.”

They sat there silently for awhile, marvelling the scene before them. Peter retracts the strange metal legs to sit down with his feet dangling over the ledge, and Starlord followed suit.

“It helped me get over my fear of heights, kinda.” Peter commented out of the blue. Starlord looked at him with a expression of mild surprise.

“ You have a fear of heights?”

“Yeah, if my web shooters run out and I just plummet, it kinda hurts to hit the ground. Especially since I work mostly in New York, ya know?”

Starlord hummed in response, then pointed to the stone that Peter hadn’t put in his pocket yet.

“Cool rock there, little Pete.” he commented. “A little sharp, but hey, that just makes it more fun.”

“Oh, yeah, these are for my friend MJ. I’m grabbing a bunch of little stones, since my friend’s back home will totally be jealous that I went to an asteroid without them.”

The small conversation continued on, just a conglomerate of anecdotes that flow from one to another. Starlord talks about the crazy adventures he went on with his space pirate-slash-kidnapper-slash-paternal figure, and Peter told him about the smaller - yet still significant - adventures that he went on with his family as a kid. Peter caught him up on recent history (just the cool bits, Starlord wasn’t really interested in the 2008 fiscal cliff), and they debated over the best movies. It was nice, in a way that Peter had never really experienced. It was pleasant.

A beeping noise came from Starlord’s wrist about half an hour into their little spiel, and both humans jumped at the sound. Starlord looked down and tapped it.

“Oh, it’s just the alarm. We should be heading back now.” His face scrunched up with frustration as the beeping didn’t go away, the screen only glitched. “What the hell, man, shut up.”

When Peter stood up, however, a violent chill went up his spine and made him stand straight up. His spidey senses screamed at him, and looking up he saw why. One of the blue flares that had been expelled from the star had grown significantly bigger in the last half an hour without notice, as it came arching in their direction. Probably not a direct hit - not even within an Earth-size distance, probably - but the energy that was waving off it was about to shake this asteroid to its core.

“Look out!” Peter shouted, grabbing Starlord by the collar of his jacket and heaving him away from the ledge. A deep rumble that was so low that it was almost impossible to hear, yet loud enough that Peter felt it deep in his chest grew impossible strong without the span of a second, before an unexplainable force slammed into Peter’s back from where he shielded Starlord’s mostly unprotected form. The planet made a huge thud as it absorbed all the energy with a lot of shaking involved.

The thing about solar flares is this - they’re mostly harmless, if it’s not a direct hit. Usually it messes with a few text, maybe a phone call gets dropped. No biggie. But on this unnamed asteroid, with such a weak atmosphere that it may as well not have one at all? The result of the flare against Peter’s suit was a thousand times worse. In an instant, the suit heated up like its warmers were put on blast,  a billion different WARNING lights flashed before his eyes, and a piercing screech came from the suit right were Karen talked from. It was impossible high pitched and loud, loud enough that Peter couldn’t hear the choked gasp that came from himself as he clutched his head. He desperately clawed at the pressure point that was meant to manually release the suit, but suddenly his suit seized up completely, all the noise and light suddenly gone.

“System failure. Sending Eminent Danger Distress Signal.” Karen’s warped voice said, but Peter couldn’t bother to try and understand. His vision was slowly turning black, the combination of the loud noises and bright lights making him slowly lose consciousness. It didn’t matter, because suddenly Peter was tipping back, unable to keep his balanced with his frozen suit.

“Kid - hey, whoa, Peter! ”

He knew this feeling. Even though he couldn’t see it, with the screens all black, he knew he was in a free fall. He felt arms wrap around his suit and heard the sound of Starlord’s jet-boots activating to try and slow them down.

“ Dammit, why are you so heavy all the sudden-”

Peter’s world goes dark.

.

..

…

Tony is - gradually, mind you - getting the hang of life Post-Thanos.

The whole Thanos-era was it’s only special flavor of shit. Emotionally, the entire world was a mess. It was such a mess that wars stopped being fought in the span of a day. Not officially, of course. No, it was more of a redirection of concerns, like who was gonna fill what spot in the well structured hierarchy of society. Wakanda, for all the safe haven-ness that Steve blew it up to be, was no different in this sense from the rest of the world. A lot of big crybabies everywhere you looked. Awful.

(Plus the constant need to try and find a way to take down Thanos - an infallible way, so that he can bring back Pe- )

But Post-Thanos? Just a different flavor of shit. Bland shit. Wheat-bran, off-brand two dollar shit. Because it was mostly just trying to figure out what to do with all these people who just came back and expect their lives to be exactly the same but, opps, sorry Bobby but your wife was mourning your death so she turned to the pool boy and suddenly you’re back and the pool boy is lounging in your Gucci swim shorts by the pool and your wife is at the end of her first trimester, whoops!

Overall, a lot of awkward power struggles that Tony has been forced to put his thoughts on, given his own position in power. It was tiring and pointless, yet it had to be done. He was technically the one to cause at least this part of the issue by bringing them all back, and he’d been preaching so much about accountability that it would be sort of hypocritical to let everyone else deal with it while he hid out in Wakanda.

But in comparison to the emotional shitshow that the world was in before? Tony preferred this one. 100%, no doubt about it. As sappy as it sounds, Tony can’t deny that walking around and seeing the somber faces of Wakanda smiling again lessened the strain on his heart.

God, he sounds like an old man.

And, yeah, it’d be nice to actually see the kid that he went through all that shit for, but with enough internal reflection (aka, staring at his ceiling, buzzed and unable to sleep) has caused him to convince himself that, hey, the kid’s alive, isn’t he? That’s good enough, you’ll see him in a few days.

A few days is three days from now, if Peter was gonna stick by his “be back in a week!” schedule. Tony’s hoping that the kid overshot, and that he’ll just get a panicked message from the UN about some UFO incoming any minute now. But that was wishful thinking, and Tony didn’t have time for that.

Instead, he desperately tried to focus on making repairs as the incessant chatter that always filled Shuri’s lab filled his ears.

“Hey, princess, what’s this claw thing do.”

“Racoon, if you don’t put that tool down right now, I will put you in a hamster cage.”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try. No, really.”

If Tony were 20 years younger, this would probably be the result of some strange high he’d get during a party. A super genius princess of an almost fantastical nation bickering with a very aggressive talking racoon? Yeah, sounds like a good mix of something or another. But no, this was all very, very real. And very annoyingly loud.

‘Namaste, Stark’ he told himself, taking a steadying breath in. The moment was ruined by a loud clang and the aggravated screams of the poor teenage girl, who sounded like she was activating some very powerful weapon - most likely designed for this specific situation, knowing the girl. Still, he trusted in her ability to make something formidable enough to take down the feral animal, and he also trusted his instinct to know when the hell to vacate a room.

“Alright, that’s my cue to leave the premises. Good night, ladies and racoon.” Tony proclaimed as he power walked out of the room. Behind him, he heard the bickering continue without a pause to acknowledge him - to which he was grateful.

The long, ornate hallways of T’Challa’s palace made his footsteps echo loudly, and his sigh bounce across the walls. And when his phone buzzed for the third time since leaving the lab, it reverberated around him to the point of making his head ache. He paused, taking a deep inhale through his nose as he calmed himself down.

Nama-fucking-ste

As it seemed, yoga words weren’t the keys to calm down an agitated Tony Stark. Usually, building tools in his lab helped that, but now he’s not at his lab - he’s at this lab where the stuff isn’t were it’s supposed to be and (as much as he hates to admit it) the tech is years beyond his current understanding. And should he be taking notes from the super genius princess in there? Absolutely - even Tony can admit that there’s more to learn, and having a sixteen year old girl school him when sixty year old men have tried and failed is pretty cool. Pride - for once - isn’t the issue here. It’s that even though he has tools and new knowledge at his fingertips, he just can’t get settled with this incessant goddamn phone-

‘Screw it’ Tony thinks as he pulls out his phone, tapping a quick “taking a nap pls handle everything thanks pep” before pressing down much harder than necessary on the power button. It’s a bad idea - a very bad idea, given the state that the world is in right now. But he can’t deal with that, to hell with his previous claims about how the present day circus of an Earth wasn’t getting to him-

“Stark! Good to see you again.”

Blinking, Tony turns to see Thor walking up to him, swing his axe around with a smile.

“Whoa there, settle down Gimli, try not to behead anyone with that thing.” Tony says, half joking as he warily keeps track of the axe. Thor huffs, a vaguely confident expression on his face as he gently tosses the aforementioned axe from hand to hand.

“I’ve wielded the Storm Breaker for upwards of three months now, Stark, I doubt that I will accidentally behead someone now.” Thor said with a smile. Tony huffs in disbelief, walking towards the god.

“Uh huh, well, there’s a first time for everything.” Tony muttered, continuing down the hallway as Thor matched pace. “What brings you to this side of the palace? You’re not exactly the tech type. Much more of a smash-y frat boy, if you get what I mean.”

“I don’t,” Thor said simply, “and I’ve been wandering around all afternoon. This Wakanda is awfully boring - I can’t even train, because I ‘disturb the animals with my thunder’, or whatever these people claim. I don’t understand why they would fear it, is thunder not common here? There have been at least three storms unrelated to me in the past month alone- ”

Tony listens to his rants as they stroll down towards the gardens outside the western side. Fresh air sounded like wine for his aching head right now. At least Thor’s mindless chatter was keeping him from spiralling down - well, whatever down was from where he stood mentally at that moment. Whatever it was, he had no interest in it. He’d much rather hear Thor’s opinion on midgardian sheep in comparison to Asgardian sheep (which is that they are much thicker here, yet less soft. “Quantity over quality, unfortunately.”)

The pair eventually break through the endlessly winding halls to the sprawling garden beyond. It’s lush with native plants - greens, purples, and reds dominating the eye. Some are short flowers, others towering trees to offer shade. Thorned bushed lined the path to prevent any from touching the beautifully natural display. While Tony had the tendency to simply pick one or two flowers from their stems (just to add a little chaos to the gardener’s lives) and keep walking with his eyes focused on the path ahead, he paused in his step to take a deep lungful of fresh air. Unlike New York, Wakanda had all renewable sources of energy that kept its air beautifully clean, and every breath was cleaning Tony of all the smoke he’d inhaled in his life as an engineer - not really, but it felt like it.

As Tony paused, he felt the heavy gaze of Thor beside him, even without looking. As he exhaled, he slumped his shoulders. A snippy taunt nearly left his lips, but he suddenly felt very tired, looking out upon the beauty before him. Perhaps it was the uncharacteristic silence that persuaded Thor to speak.

“Stark, has something been bothering you?”

“Absolutely not, Thunder Thighs, I’m doing spectacular.” Tony says almost tonelessly, eyes not leaving red and purple flowers to the right of him. His clenched jaw and the tightness around his eyes said otherwise. Thor hummed, then continued as if Tony had said nothing at all.

“Is it the boy? Peter, was it?” Thor asks simply. At the name, Tony feels as though an eighty pound backpack had been slung over his shoulders, making him more exhausted than he was before - amazing, how just a name can do that to him these days. God, he hated parenting.

Tony contemplates deflecting, as he always has. But Pepper’s yoga instructor once said some BS about talking about one’s own issues. Pepper said that too, at some point. And multiple therapists. Overall, a significant amount of people have given that particular shred of advice, to which Tony almost always ignored. But for some reason when he opened his mouth, the wrong words came out.

“Yeah.” Tony slips out before he shuts his mouth with an audible clack. Taking a steadying breath, the man stared at one of the taller trees with unnecessary intensity. Thor waited a moment, before weighing in.

“Yeah, I can understand how stressful a family can be.” The man says wistfully. Tony whirls around to face the other man’s ever-present relaxed expression, despite the heavy tone of the conversation.

“Hey - he’s not my kid, no matter what Rhodey tells you.” Tony asserts, ignoring Thor’s doubtful smile. “He’s not. ”

“Family is not defined by blood, Stark.” It’s not the first time he’s said those words, but it’s the first time he’s said it not in reference to his own situation. It makes Tony pause, his tense expression relaxing. “Either way, caring about someone and having them act out is… stressful, I’m well aware of that.”

Tony almost laughed, turning again to look out on the garden. “Well, I’d say something about how playing hooky with space pirates is next level stressful, but I think you automatically win all ‘who-has-the-most-stressful-family’ contests.”

“What a grand accomplishment.” Thor says dryly. Tony can’t help but sympathize. There’s a quiet pause before Tony continues, mouth opening twice before he gets his words right in his head. While his face is as forcibly relaxed as ever, the tightness in his voice betrays his anxiety.

“It’s not fair to be annoyed at the kid for leaving - there’s a lot of times that he stayed and fought when he had every right to turn tail and sprint in the other direction. Hell, I wanted him to, sometimes.” Tony begins quietly. “I don’t think I’m bothered by that part of it all. What bothers me is just looking up there, ” Tony spits, gesturing towards the sky. “And knowing that he’s somewhere up there doing god knows what with people I certainly don’t trust, and sending some bullshit thirty second transmission to let me know ‘oh yeah Mr.Stark I’m not dead anymore!’ before going ghost for the next week and-” Tony cuts himself off with a harsh sigh, right hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So you are bothered by not knowing where he is, then?” Thor asks, and Tony nearly laughs at the simplicity.

“That’s one of the things I’m bothered by, yeah.”

“Oh, why not simply ask the Doctor Strange to locate him for you?” Thor asks, tone almost joyful in nature. Tony turns back to him, a bewildered expression on his face.

“Excuse me, are you saying that Strange can do that? And he didn’t do that already?” Thor nods excitedly.

“Yes, he did so to help me find my father! Given, that was moments before my sister came and murdered him, however that is besides the point.” Thor says offhandedly with a small shrug, and wow if only Tony had that flippant feeling about his own parent’s murder, then maybe he and Steve wouldn’t still be using different boxes of the same cereal every morning. “I’m sure he can help you find your child!”

“Not my child.” Tony mutters, eyebrows pinched already pulling out his phone to turn it back on. Right before he does, he pauses. Silence falls between the two men as Tony stares blankly at the phone, each second passing making Thor grow more and more concerned.

“Um… Stark, are you al-”

“You know what?” Tony announces loudly, making the other man flinch. “I’m gonna do the cool adult thing and give the kid his space. So what if he wants to blow off some steam? He already said he’ll be back before dinner, so till dinner comes and passes, no problemo, right? Right.” Tony concludes with finality, moving to pocket his phone. Thor has a look akin to shocked confusion at the sudden outburst.

“Well, if that’s what you believe to be the best thing, then-”

They both flinch as the Bee Gees Stayin’ Alive starts blasting aggressively loud from Tony’s previously dead phone. Tony freezes, seizing up as the high pitched ‘Ah, Ah, Ah, Ah, Stayin’ Alive, Stayin’ Alive’ starts serenading from his left back pocket. Whipping his phone out, he stares at the flashing red letters on the black screen, reading EMINENT DANGER: A17

“That- that can’t be right.” Tony breathes, quickly tapping the screen to signal that he saw the message. His breaths come quicker with every passing moment, heart racing as though he just ran the entirety of the palace behind him. Thor peered over his shoulder to look at the phone beneath him.

“Who is Party Magic in your phone?” Thor questions as Tony quickly taps the call button, peering over Tony’s shoulder with a pinched expression.

“Your contact is Thunder Thighs.” Tony says instead of answering, mind buzzing with anxiety. He hears the phone pick up on the other end, and he doesn’t even allow Strange to finish saying hello before he cuts in.

“Yeah, more important question - is it easier for me to teleport to your D&D inspired hang out or for you to find me? Because I’m gonna need you to be here or for me to be there within the next fifteen seconds or I’ll just fly in through your voodoo wall. Okay? Sounds good. Bye.” he doesn’t wait for an answer before aggressively hitting end call and beginning a countdown in his head, face blank as he stared at the path head with concerning intensity.

Fourteen, Thirteen.

“Stark, I am very confused at the moment-”

“Be quiet.” Tony snaps ( Nine, Eight.) “I’m counting.”

“For what?”

Five, Four.

Suddenly, a circle of sparking orange appears before them, a few feet away.  Tony can’t bring himself to smile.

Two, One.

“That.”

Chapter Text

When Peter was first adapting to his new-found powers, he was very quickly exposed to the cruel, cruel world of sensory overload. The first day, he remembered agony that he felt at the sound of May washing the dishes - each scrape of metal and unconscious muttering on May’s part had him gritting his teeth and digging the palms of his hands so hard against his ears that it would have left bruises, three days before. That was nothing compared to the first time he braved the outside of his building - finding out that he could hear the screeching brakes of the F train ten blocks and twenty feet underground from his doorstep had him scrambling back inside, throwing up in the corner of the hallway and flinging himself back to his apartment in a panic. It took him a week of practice just leave the window open.

With all of those experiences, he’d never been in a situation where he was so overwhelmed that he was forced to pass out to escape it. Even when the plane crashed and the resounding boom temporarily shattered his eardrums, he still got up and held his own against Vulture. But being trapped in a tin can with screeching alarms and flashing lights? Yeah, he lasted maybe seven seconds of that.

The weird thing about sensory overload is that even in sleep, there’s no full escape. Well, at least in this case. Everything was dark, and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even think, really. It was more like he was floating in inky water, except that he couldn’t feel his own skin, and sounds from outside his head came and went like cars passing down a highway. He heard the quick words of Starlord and a sharp gasp from Mantis. But it was like they were speaking some foreign language that his brain couldn't even try and comprehend. It was frustrating, but he couldn’t even hold onto that feeling before it slipped away. Nothing was tangible, here.

Waking up from that state was like swimming through molasses. Somewhere, we was fully aware that he was drowning. He could see the light of consciousness penetrating the thick, dark syrup above him, but moving towards it was a battle of its own. Outside noises were the only foothold he got to propel himself closer and closer to the surface. Peter’s not sure how long he’d been there, but he wakes up in a blink of a second. His entire body jerks with the shock of it, like when your friend turns the volume up on the radio too high too fast. For a second, he couldn’t even breathe.

“Relax.” Mantis whispered from behind him, a calming hand allowing his body to relax and his lungs to fill with oxygen again. Peter closed his eyes and sighed, the quiet sounds of the ship no longer overwhelming him. After a moment of basking in the relief, Peter opened his eyes and surveyed the room around him. It appeared that he was in the workroom towards the back of the ship, where they repaired their weapons and kept general maintenance supplies. He was laying on the metal workbench, with questionably smelling rags balled up beneath his head as a makeshift pillow.

To the left of him was the Iron Spider suit, still fully formed and draped against a chair in the corner, almost as though it was watching him. At the sight of the suit, Peter quickly recalled what took place on the asteroid before he had gone unconscious. The bright light, the loud screech of the malfunctioning suit, the Iron Spider becoming a coffin as he plummeted hundreds of feet-

“Re-” Mantis begins to say as Peter’s breath picks up, but he quickly raises his hands defensively as he turns towards her, a bewildered expression on his face as he tried to get ahold of the turbulent emotions rushing through him.

(He’s fine, don’t worry. Nothing’s wrong, Quill caught him. Someone caught him. The Iron Spider is not a coffin, the Iron Spider is not a coffin, the-)

“No, Mantis - I’m fine, you don’t have to do your voodoo magic on me.” Peter wheezes out between deep breaths, heart beat slowing by sheer force of will. “I’m alright, I just got disoriented.”

It was always kind of hard to tell what Mantis’ expression meant - her huge black eyes and hunched posture sort of unsettled Peter, even after the week of being within 200 feet of her at all times - but he was half certain that she was emoting some sort of doubt in his words. He’d seen it enough that even on an alien it shone clear to him. The realization made him smile a little, and that alone seemed to quell Mantis’ thoughts. Folding her hands on her lap, she returned the smile in a way the was vaguely unsettling, but warm nonetheless.

“So, um….” Peter began, stopping as his voice cracked with misuse. Mantis patiently tilted her head. “What… happened?”

“Do you not remember? It was quite spectacular.” Mantis asked, her ever-present earnesty calming the buzz still running through Peter’s veins. For that, he formed a tired half smile.

“Yeah, I remember getting blown off the whole asteroid - wait, is everyone okay?” Peter asked, back straightening again as his ears strained to hear the others talking. The attempt backfired when a headache erupted in his head, punishing him for trying to use his senses to early. Sensing his distress, Mantis laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Just as fast as it came, the headache left.

“They are all fine, Drax caught you and Quill before either of you hit the ground. The ship was damaged, but still safe. Quill is outside with Drax to try and repair the ship-”

As she spoke, the hatch slammed open, loud enough to make both heroes flinch. Loudly, Starlord stomped onto the spacecraft, groaning melodramatically as Drax followed, appearing vaguely frustrated himself.

“ - Like seriously, dude! I asked you to hold the compression valve steady, steady! How does that equate to you compressing the compression valve? ” Starlord shouted as he tossed a bag of equipment onto the floor, which ended up tipping over and spilling across the floor. Quill cursed behind clenched teeth.

“The valve was weak, I hardly even grapsed it.” Drax replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Quill gripped his hair, air hissing through his teeth.

“I want to tear your head off so bad right now, man.”

“You can’t even reach my neck, how could you possibly-”

“Shut up!” Quill exclaimed, hands flying in the air. “You’re so loud, you’re gonna wake the baby! ” He continued, turning to point where a very awake Peter was observing with an expression of vague bewilderedness. Mantis, whose mouth had been in the little ‘o’ that it makes when something exciting happens, made a big smile as she waved at the two men.

“Hi!” Mantis greeted, breaking the momentary silence.

“It seems that the baby is already awake.” Drax commented as Quill began to step over the spilled equipment over towards the counter Peter sat on.

“I-I’m the baby?” Peter questioned, throwing his legs over the side of the counter.

“Yes, yes you are. You are small and took a really long nap, thus you are the baby.” Starlord explained as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking a quick look at the boy. “So how you feeling, buddy? You kinda freaked us out back there.”

Peter mirrored the other in front of him, crossing his arms across his stomach as he curled into himself at the question. “I’m fine, now. That was a solar flare, right?”

Starlord nodded in response. “Yep-peroni, kiddo. The flare pretty much fried our ship for the time being. Not totally unfixable, just totally annoying.”

“Yeah, I think the Iron Spider got fried, too.” Peter frowned as he turned his gaze to the suit draped over the chair. “A ton of alarms went off, it got super loud and bright all the sudden. Plus the suit locked up, so I was pretty trapped. I guess it was a little too, uh, overwhelming”

Starlord nodded, humming as Peter talked. When Peter looked back, he was staring pretty intently at the suit that had just caused Peter to go into sensory overload.

“Yeah, yeah overwhelmed.” Starlord mused, sounding distracted. “So, uh, you’re definitely gonna need that suit to be repaired, right? That’s gonna need to happen.”

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together as he slowly looked from his suit to Starlord, a concerned expression on his face. “Yeeeeah, that’s gonna need to happen. I sorta figured that I could start up in a-”

“Yeah yeah yeah, but you just woke up, and I thought you might want to, ya know, chillax for a minute before having to work too hard.” Quill suggested, shrugging fairly nonchalantly as his eyes darted between Peter and his suit.

“Oh, I mean I guess that might be a good idea, but-”

“So can I work on it for a second?” Quill burst out, words slurring together at the speed that they came out his mouth.

“I don’t really know if that’s a good idea, man.” Peter spoke, eyebrows raising as Starlord clasps his hand together, eyes closed and knees bending as he began to actually beg.

“ Pleeeeease ? I’m probably never gonna be able to mess with Earth tech like this again. All I get is nerf guns! ” Starlord bemoaned, pushing his case.

“You have nerf guns?” Peter asked, a laugh in his voice.

“Yeah, but Gamora locked the away somewhere secret, so I don’t even have those!” Quill said, a little less steam at the mention of Gamora. Peter - ever empathetic - noticed this, and any fight and wish to preserve Tony’s billion dollar suit deflated like an untied balloon.

Sighing, Peter dropped his crossed arms. “Alright, you can poke around it. But don’t scratch a wire, or I’ll pack it away until we get to Earth.” Peter said forcefully, actually wagging a finger. He cringed at the strange kinship he felt with Tony in that moment, only heightened by the weariness he felt and Starlord exclaimed a loud “Yesss!” as he bounded over to the suit.

“If anything really goes wrong, I’ll just tell Tony the flare did it.” Peter mumbled to himself, hoping that won’t be the case. Shaking his head with a sigh, he slipped off the counter and stretched. Spotting the ear cuff that formed into Quill’s helmet, Peter picked it up and hooked it over his right ear.

“Hey, I’m gonna go check out the outside of the ship.” Peter called back to Starlord, who gave a grunt in response, along with something like “don’t break anything” that had Peter rolling his eyes as he tapped the ear cuff. The mask seemed to pixelate into existence around his face, similar to the nanobots in the new iron suits that Tony was working on.

“Coooool.” Peter breathed, looking through the red tinged lense. He gathered some of the equipment and walked out onto the dusty ground of the asteroid.

Even after the shockwave the solar flare created, the plains of the space rock were just as mesmerizing. A mini dust storm seemed to be flowing through the region, although it had the same effect as a fog in the early morning. If anything, it just made the scenery that much cooler.

“I’m on an asteroid.” Peter said to himself, smiling widely underneath the mask. After a moment, he turned towards the open panelling of the ship. The red lense immediately single out the parts that need repairs, as well as the tools that could fix them.

“I’m on an asteroid, and I’m fixing a UFO .” With that running through his head, he quickly dug his hands into the hardware of the ship. He hadn’t been so excited to mess with machines since he’d first worked on his own suit in Tony’s lab, button up rolled up to his sleeves in a half assed attempt to keep them clean.

(Tony had laughed and said that this was just an excuse so Pepper would let him work on his own suits. Peter remembered the queasy feeling of half believing that, that Tony didn’t really want him there but just wanted to work on his suits in peace. Peter was quiet for a total of two minutes before Tony walked over to his workbench and helped him work on his own suit for the rest of the day. Peter learned everything there was to know about the spider suit. Tony never touched the Iron man suits. His button up was ruined. Two days later, a new button up in the same style appeared in a brown paper bag on his bed, along with five high quality black shirts. “To work in.” the note said.)

Peter got lost in the work, so much so that he hardly noticed the way that his spider senses perked up at the sound of a bang inside the ship. The shouting that was so loud that he could hear it outside wasn’t out of place, so he kept his nose in the oil. What got him out of it was a frazzled Mantis poking her head outside, body completely tense.

“Peter! We really need you inside.” Mantis whisper shouted, eyes impossibly wider than usual. Peter groaned, stepping back.

“What is it? Did Starlord set the Iron Spider on or something.” He asked, already mentally kicking himself for letting the man mess with his suit. Buy Mantis shook her head, fingers gripping the doorway.

“No! It’s not Quill.” She spoke. “Your father is here.”

“My father?” Peter squeaked, setting down his tools in confusion.

“Your iron father.”

Oh.

Oh.

“What?” Peter exclaimed, rushing back into the ship. “Mr.Stark is here?”

His question was answered as he rounded the corner to see Tony Stark - well, Iron Man really - holding a massive repulsor cannon levelled with Starlord’s head, who was currently half cowering behind the Iron Spider (which was sparking).

“I don’t know where he went, I’m not his babysitter! ” Starlord spit at Tony, who somehow looked even more pissed off underneath his suit, if the revving of his repulsor was anything to go by. Drax observed from the side, hand wrapped around a chair as if he was prepared to throw it, although the look on his face seemed to show that he was amused at the sight rather than genuinely concerned. Peter couldn’t say the same for himself.

“Wrong answer, Flash Gordon. I’m gonna need to see the kid in the next 15 seconds or I’m gonna blast this ship and everything on it to hell, so help me god-”

“Tony!” Peter exclaimed, hands raising automatically as his mentor swung the ( incredibly intimidating) repulsor canon his way. Remembering the mask currently obscuring his face and the baggy clothes covering his frame, he quickly tapped his right ear to release the mask.

“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, it’s me!” He rushed out, as the mask pixelated away the same way it came on, and he rapidly blinked the weird feeling of going from red tint to full color in a second. Because of this, he didn’t really see Tony lower his canon, nor did he see the expression on Tony’s face when the nanobots folded away to reveal his face.

“Peter.” Tony said, a strange reverence in his voice forcing Peter to focus on the man, concern growing as he did. Tony was pale - paler than he’d ever seen him. It made the ever-present under eye circles more prominent, more like bruises than anything. His hair had fallen away from it’s usual commed and gelled look, appearing almost frizzy in the dim light of the ship. But it was the look in his eye, wide as though Peter was the Ghost of Christmas Past appearing before him.

“I told you that he was probably outside.” Starlord grumbled under his breath, flinching away from a rather outgoing spark from Peter’s suit. No one paid him any mind.

“How-how did you get here?” Peter asked, voice small. Tony approached him, reeling in his expression as the nanobots folded back into the reactor on his chest. Reaching out a hand, he patted Peter on the shoulder before resting his hand there, staring at it.

It took him a moment before he realized the question, blinking rapidly as he looked back at Peter, the look of shock shuttering away as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know, some magic mumbo-jumbo.” Tony says flippantly, ignoring the shake to his voice. “Just a little hat trick from our local cornerside neurologist-turned-party magician, Strange.”

“You are aware that I can hear you, correct?” A voice calls from a necklace on Tony’s chest, making Peter jump. Tony pulls the hand off Peter’s shoulder to shake the large circular charm at the end.

“Magic walkie-talkie.” He explained, a small smile on his face that Peter returned. Tony watched the kid for a moment, a noticeable stutter in his breathing. Before Peter could ask him about it, the man shook his head, turning to move towards the nearest chair.

“Okay, wait, let’s backtrack here.” He spoke, waving a hand to the others. “Because I think we’re on two seperate pages. Honestly, I think we’re on two completely separate books.”