Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And I… am… Iron Man.”

Those were supposed to be the last words of Tony Stark. His final, snappy comeback that would ever be uttered into existence. Five little words that were going to be the greatest middle finger insult to one giant, oversized purple alien named Thanos.

Except when he closed his eyes, he found himself wanting them to reopen.

Things did not become clear immediately; dying - or not dying but being in an incredibly traumatic event - tended to do that to a person and make their brains slower to process things. At first, there was simply nothing more than white light, so intense that any chance of opening said eyes was thwarted. He squeezed them shut again against the throbbing pain they were causing him. 

After a moment to adjust to that, Tony tried again. This time, his eyes didn’t sting so much, and he was finally able to see. He found he was in the middle of a grassy field, and while it was rather warm, he was leaning comfortably in the shade of a tree. The sun was the culprit behind the blinding white light - it was glaring at him like some cop’s interrogation light, and the comparison irked him. He groaned, his body ever so slowly coming back to life as his brain remembered how to Human.

The left glove of his armor was gone. His face mask completely uncovered - no duh, he thought, for how else would the sun be trying to murder his corneas? - and a slight breeze made him aware of the pain on his face. The entire right side of his body and suit were… well, burnt toast felt like an apt description. His body was screaming at him; every fiber, muscle, joint, and tendon ached and throbbed.

It took several seconds for Tony to actually question his condition. The force of the blast from that snap and the resulting radiation should have been enough to kill him. His throat should have been damaged, and there was absolutely no way he should be awake to have this realization. Taking a closer look at his suit, he realized that the damage done was bad, but not astronomically so. Not bad enough that he couldn’t fix it. Yes, he was bleeding and sorer than the time he fell thousands of feet below a wormhole, but… not dead.

Yes, that was the key. Not dead. 

Why was he not dead?

And why was that damned sun so bright anyway? It wasn’t that bad when the fight started.

“FRIDAY? Are you there?”

Yes, Boss. 

A huge sigh of relief washed over him. At least his AI could help.

“What the hell is going on?”

There was a beat. I’m afraid I don’t understand. Can you be more specific?

He held back a growl. “Where am I? Where’s the rest of the team? Why am I alive?!”

His heart would surely crap out on him one of these days. The constant stress and high blood pressure were going to kill him. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t. He did just die, or so he thought, and here he was.

You are currently in the middle of Riverside Park, FRIDAY answered. None of the other Avengers are within the current perimeters of my scanner. As to why you are alive, that I cannot answer, except that you were brought into the world as an egg that was fertilized–

“Alright, alright, shut up, God!” Tony interrupted. “Please do not give me the birds and the bees talk ever again.” No time to ponder how his AI even knew what that was; he certainly hadn’t programmed that into her code. “Riverside Park, you said?” That he could handle. And yes, now that FRIDAY had said that, he could easily see the blue waters of the Hudson to his right. To the left, he caught sight of the freeway and New York’s ever-impressive skyline of buildings. Hadn’t he been at the compound upstate?

“You said none of the others are even close by?” he repeated, hoping for a fraction of a second that he’d somehow misheard her.

Correct. Their biometrics are not in range.

Now that was alarming. FRIDAY’s sensors were the most advanced that existed. “You’re sure it’s not a glitch? Some kind of error? The suit is damaged; something may have popped loose during the fight.”

There was another pause as FRIDAY began to perform a diagnostic check. The entire scan was finished eight seconds later.

I can confirm that the suit is 68.5% damaged, and that my systems are running precisely as they should.

Well, there went that idea of a loose wire. 

Tony rubbed his eyes with his armor-less left hand, mindful of the few burns that were dotted across his face. So he was in the middle of nowhere, injured and with a damaged suit, and no one around to help. 

“What is this, Tennessee all over again?” he mused aloud. “Is the Mandarin about to make some public announcement of his triumphant return? If he is, I suppose I should be grateful it isn’t wintertime and snowing.”

The AI thankfully chose not to respond.

He was alone except, of course, for the very random, ordinary citizens whom he caught glimpsing at him from a distance. He couldn’t fault them for the not-so-subtle whispers and glances towards him. It was a bit surprising, however, that no one tried to run up to him for a picture or autograph.

That sort of thing was becoming all the more common as the Avengers grew in popularity and were gaining the people’s favor. 

“Riverside is… what, two or three miles away from my tower?”

Yes, Stark Tower is approximately 2.56 miles from your current location.

At last, the AI was giving him something useful. “Should be a fair walk. No sweat.” If he could actually stand up, which he hadn’t tried yet. He tensed his muscles as he braced himself to move. A sharp pain in his leg caught him off guard, causing Tony to fall back against the tree.

“Or, you know, maybe I’ll just sit here a little while longer.”

All at once, the other important questions began to flood his brain. Was Thanos really gone? Was anyone else hurt? Did anybody other than himself almost-not-really-die?

Memories of the battle flashed across his mind’s eye. Banner’s snap, the attack on the compound. The subsequent fight with every single ally, friend, acquaintance, and frienemy he’d ever known. Even some that he hadn’t yet gotten the chance to know well enough to categorize. And of course, Pepper… Morgan.

He had to call Pepper.

With a quick command to FRIDAY, he eagerly waited to hear her voice on the other end. He waited and waited for her to pick up. Instead, the only thing he heard was that the number cannot be connected as dialed. The confusion that had slowly been building in his veins turned quickly to fear. There was no reason Pepper should not have picked up the phone. Actually, there was no reason the phone could not be dialed at all. 

Trying not to let the fear get to him, Tony instead dialed happy. But to his dismay, the same thing happened.

Just what the heck was going on?!

——-

Peter inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air that he could get from his current altitude. The top of the Empire State Building gave him one of the best views of the city. It was also one of the only places where his senses were not being bombarded with sounds from backfiring cars, shouts of people yelling for taxis, street vendors trying to make a sale, or the smells that assaulted his nostrils from overfilled dumpsters.

It was, quite simply, one heck of a view.

He loved this city. Maybe he was biased because it was the only place he’d ever known, and nostalgia had a huge part in that. Even so. He was old enough and wise enough to know that other cities in the world were just as large, larger, and just all-around better. But none of those other cities had him.

They didn’t have Spider-Man.

His morning had been more on the slower, lazy side for once. The only reports he’d heard over his police scanner - the one currently in his suit mask - were minor fender-benders, a welfare check, and a noise complaint. No carjackings or armed robberies for once. On one hand, Peter was glad for the reprieve. Such moments were hard to come by, and so he learned to appreciate them. The problem became that every lull was preceded by some epic event of destruction or chaos, and knowing this made these duller moments hard to enjoy.

Even his own spidey senses had no way of knowing just what kind of trouble lay ahead.

“Dispatch to any units in the vicinity of Riverside Park, please respond."

The signal caught Peter’s attention, and he waited to hear more.

“Copy, unit 232.”

“Multiple calls of a 10-10 P in the park. Need an officer for 10-6. Location is on the Northern end.”

Peter frowned, watching his HUD as his programming began to translate the codes in real time. He’d had to memorize the most common ones when he’d first gotten his powers, and the number of mishaps he’d made in the beginning hadn’t exactly endeared him to any officers. He didn’t rely on that software as much anymore - hearing the codes on a daily basis for years helped - but it was nice for the more obscure incidents that didn’t happen as often.

“Unit 232 en route,” came the officer’s voice again. “Traffic is heavy, and I’m 12 minutes out. ETA unknown. Anything else to add?”

“Negative. Will tell you if that changes.”

“10-4.”

Peter knew 10-10 meant possible crime, even before his HUD told him as much. And the P meant a suspicious person. Dispatch wanted an officer nearby to investigate the claims. By the sound of it, the officer wouldn’t be able to reach the park for some time. 

Well, good thing web-swinging wasn’t affected by traffic. This was exactly the kind of thing he loved to do: just be helpful. It didn’t always have to be on a world-class scale. Sometimes the biggest help was in doing the little things.

He stood from his perched position and stretched his arms over his head before diving headfirst off the edge. The rush of the air always made it hard to catch a breath, even with the mask, but the adrenaline rush never got hold.

While swinging, he decided to check in with Yuri and let her know of his plans. A few seconds later, her voice came through loud and clear.

“Hey, Spidey,” she said evenly - her usual greeting. “You’re not calling to tell me of some gigantic emergency right now, are you?”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” Peter smirked. “And no, why do you ask?”

“It’s just rare for you to call me while I’m not at work. You know, some of us do appreciate our paid time off and dislike being interrupted.”

Peter paused on a rooftop to facepalm. “Oh, right, I completely forgot! Sorry, Yuri, I’ll let you go.”

To his surprise, she gave a short laugh. “I'm going back tomorrow. You’re not exactly interrupting much anymore. Now what’s up?”

Peter returned to the air. “I was actually letting you know that I was going to check out the suspicious suspect call that came in a few minutes ago. Riverside Park.”

She hummed. “Yeah, I heard it over the scanner.”

“I thought you weren’t working til tomorrow?” he shot back with humor. He knew Yuri was always listening to her personal scanner even when off duty. “And you say I’m the one working too hard.”

“Shut up,” she replied, and Peter could feel her eyes rolling through the phone. “Still, the park is filled with innocents. I’m glad to hear you’ll be getting eyes on the situation.”

“Yeah, I’m nearly there,” he said as he shot a web out onto a tree limb, swinging himself into the branches. Now that he was in the area, he needed to figure out where to go next.

A quick glance around gave him his answer.

A middle-aged man was limping along the pathway below, half of his face covered in some kind of scarring or burns. A streak of blood trailed down from the man’s right eye to his chin. But all of that was nothing compared to the weird red and gold metal armor plating he seemed to be wearing. It was clearly damaged by… well, Peter had no idea what.

He didn’t even realize he’d gasped aloud until Yuri’s voice cut through his jumbled thoughts. “What is it? What’s happened? Is the guy really that bad?”

“Suspicious doesn’t begin to describe this, Yuri,” Peter began, his spider-sense buzzing just looking at the guy. “I didn’t miss the memo of some new supervillain, did I? Or even a new good guy? Because I feel like that’s what I’m looking at right now.”

“Tell me everything,” she demanded in her captain's voice. “Are there casualties? What kind of damage are we looking at?”

“That’s the weird part,” he admitted, and did his best to relay what he was seeing. Or rather, not seeing. “It’s just one guy. He isn’t attacking anyone. No one’s running for cover, screaming, nothing.” He paused a moment, using his HUD to zoom in closer. “He’s limping, and he’s got this metal armor that looks like it’s been through a jet engine. It’s like he was fighting something, but there haven't been any reports of the sort.”

“Scanner’s been boring today,” Yuri agreed. “What’s your suggestion?”

He shrugged, despite knowing she couldn’t see it. “I’m going to do the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man thing and talk to him.”

“Good luck.”

After all these years, Peter knew Yuri wasn’t as standoffish as she appeared, so he took the otherwise abrupt ending without a second thought.

Peter jumped down from the tree with ease and casually approached the man from behind. The buzz of his spider-sense only increased as he got closer, but still, there wasn’t that feeling of imminent danger. Just that something was wrong. He cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t mind me saying,” Peter started, “but I think you’ve gotten your calendars mixed up; costume parties are usually reserved for the fall when there's turkeys and pumpkin spice everywhere.”

The man jumped and turned around, clearly startled by Peter’s voice. Peter expected to be met with hostility and a weapon. A criminal who was prepared to do whatever it took to stay out of prison. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen. Instead, Peter could see the exact moment the strange man realized Spider-Man was standing in front of him. There was an exhale, a sudden rush of relief that appeared on his face.

“At last, a familiar face,” the guy spoke with a relaxed air. “And what’s with the giant white spider? Did you make that yourself?” He shook his head, as if he realized that he had been rambling. “Sorry, back on topic: Where is everybody?”

Stunned and confused, Peter was forced to re-evaluate his initial plans. Instead of trying to apprehend a hostile, he was now tasked with helping some lunatic get medical attention. How fun. He wasn’t a mental health expert by any means, but he knew enough to know that keeping the person calm was crucial.

“Uh… I did, yes. The spider. It was a suggestion from a friend. But more importantly, are you okay? Because if we’re being honest here, you look like you could use a hospital.”

The man waved him off. “I’m fine, we’ll get to that later. Where is everybody?”

Baby steps, Peter reminded himself. Try to get on the same page. “Um.. are you supposed to be meeting some friends or something?”

The question was supposed to get him talking, and, hopefully give Peter something to work with. The guy just tilted his head, looking annoyed.

“C’mom, kid, now’s not the time to be coy. I just fought a giant purple alien to bring half the population back, including you.”

There was a long pause. “Okaayy… I think you may have hit your head. Badly. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll call EMS to—“

“Peter, this is insane, I’ll just go to my tower and have Dr. Cho look me over, and then—“

“Woah woah woah, stop! Stop a second.” Peter held out both of his hands and, incredulous, he asked, “Did you just call me Peter?” That changed things.

“Yes, I did. I know, it’s not as common as “kid” but that is your name, Peter Parker. Unless that’s changed in the last five years, which I seriously doubt.”

Peter was glad that this mask covered his face, because he was sure his slack jaw was quite the sight. “How do you know that? Do we know each other…?” Peter frantically went through every major event of the last five years, looking for some clue as to who this guy was. He didn’t look familiar at all. Had he come to F.E.A.S.T in the past? The guy didn’t look homeless… and how did he know Peter was Spider-Man?!

While wracking his brain, Peter could see the man’s face begin to change. It was slight, but still noticeable. “Wait.” He held his hand up and pointed. “You’re not Peter Parker.”

“Uh, yes, I am?” Peter admitted, as much as he wanted to deny it. “I think I’d know myself, sir.”

“Cut the crap, Underoos. This isn’t funny anymore.”

Peter frowned and blinked once. “Did you just call me Underwear?”

There was a brief, awkward pause.

“Take off the mask.”

“What?”

“Right now. Take it off. No one else is around. Show me your face.”

There was desperation in the stranger’s eyes when he asked. Its intensity was the one thing that kept Peter from outright denying the request. The guy was confused and just trying to make sense of things. It wasn’t something he could help. Fleetingly, Peter was aware of how often situations like this ended badly with the police. Officers had very little training when it came to mental illness. If Spider-Man hadn’t come, there was a very good chance the man would have been killed.

Looking at it that way, it wasn’t a big deal to lift up his mask and show his face. So he did. It wasn’t like he had anything left to lose; the man knew his name.

The man looked at Peter, then swore under his breath. “You really aren’t him.”

“I am Peter Parker. I’d show you my ID, but carrying that around kind of defeats the whole secret identity thing, don’t you think?”

“Why are you dressed like Spider-Man?”

“Because I am– did you not see me swinging around here just a moment ago? Look,” and Peter shot some webbing at the closest tree - the same one that he’d been hanging out in just moments ago - harmlessly showcasing his abilities. “See? Spider-Man.”

The news began to sink in, and the man began to shake his head and pace back and forth. “This… this isn’t right. You’re not… I must have screwed up and… but I couldn’t have. You were there! I saw you, I mean, I saw him. I saw my Peter. You’re not my Peter Parker.”

“Sir, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. What do you mean I’m not your Peter?”

But instead of answering, Mr. Crazy just asked another question. “FRIDAY, search the web. What’s today’s date?”

“Who is Fri-”

It is currently July 11, 2023

“This makes no sense! This– did I…?”

Boss, the voice– Friday– interrupted, I may have an explanation. Considering the power of the stones and the unique abilities of each, I believe you have landed in a parallel universe.

The man looked as if he were about to have an aneurysm; he was so tense. “Oh…”

“The multiverse is real?” Peter found himself asking, but still not quite believing it. The man couldn’t answer, falling forward to his knees. Peter was quick to follow him.

“Sir, what’s your name?”

Dazed, he still managed to respond, “Tony.”

“Okay. Breathe slower for me, Tony. Can you do that?”

Tony nodded, and Peter began to talk him down. It only took a moment for Tony to get a grip on himself again. Peter assumed that the embarrassment of having a panic attack in public - and in front of a stranger, no less - was enough to snap him out of it.

“What the hell,” Tony shrugged, seemingly talking to himself. “I’ve been to space, fought multiple aliens, met a talking raccoon. Why should this surprise me?”

“Just so we’re clear,” Peter started, “you’re not some new supervillian, right? Because if you are, I’m going to have to inform the police captain, and she’s already kind of prickly on a good day.”

The half-confused, half-annoyed look Peter received was enough of an answer.

Up ahead, Peter could see two officers heading towards him and Tony. They would definitely lock the man up for insanity. “Look,” Peter explained, “obviously, you know me somehow. I’m not sure I’m following, to be honest, but if the police come and hear you, they’ll think you’re insane. More than likely, they’ll take you away and stick you in a psych ward. I don’t want that for you. I’m your best chance at that not happening. So, can I at least take you somewhere where we can talk and go from there? You have lots of questions, and so do I, but there are two officers heading this way, and I’d like to keep this as simple as possible, okay? What do you say?”

Tony didn’t respond verbally, but he did make a facial expression of defeat and agreement.

Figuring that that was as much as he was going to get, Peter nodded and, making sure his mask was still in place, jogged towards the two officers.

“Hey, no worries, boys, I got this one in hand. Just a little misunderstanding."

The pair glanced at one another. “You’re sure?” One of them asked.

“Yeah, of course. The guy’s homeless, but also totally harmless. I’m going to take him over to the F.E.A.S.T shelter nearby. No weapons, no evidence of any foul play.”

The pair seemed reluctant to leave, but the mention of no weapons appeared to calm them down. “And you’ll make sure he gets there and causes no problems?”

“C’mon, have I ever let you guys down like that? Actually, don’t answer that. But seriously, I can handle this guy. Go take it easy, grab a donut! You deserve it!” Peter even went as far as to pat one of the officers on the arm before backing away. “See you around!”

He turned and swung his arm around Tony, gently leading him away. “Just keep walking,” he whispered.

Tony did not look pleased to be led this way, but he didn’t put up any resistance. Peter waited until he could hear the officer reporting an all clear over the radio before relaxing and removing his arm. “Alright, now we’re in the clear.”

“Thank God, because if you were going to keep your arm around me like that, I was going to have to file a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

Peter snorted. “Don’t take the friendly in Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man that far.”

Chapter Text

Tony was not a man to panic. At least not in the normal sense, and not counting New York and the wormhole. Was he abrupt and abrasive? Prone to anxiety attacks? Someone who acted first without asking? Yes to all.

But even he was having a hard time comprehending the revelation that he had been dropped into a whole different world. And this was coming from the same guy who made time travel possible.

Tony also couldn’t stop staring at Peter in the brief time his mask had been off. The kid he’d taken under his tutelage, who had simultaneously infuriated and impressed him… wasn’t exactly a kid anymore. This Peter was clearly older and more confident in himself. If Tony had to venture a guess, he would say Peter was in his mid-20s, either still in college or recently graduated from it. His cheekbones were more defined, and he had that chiseled jawline that girls loved (Tony remembered being young and good-looking; a perfect jawline was a good start to getting a girl’s attention).

Peter looked sincere, still kind and likable, but not overly youthful. Those Bambi eyes that had so often conned Tony into letting him get away with something weren’t so wide anymore, but were still that same shade of brown Tony remembered.

Maybe, Tony thought suddenly, this is what would have become of his Peter if it weren’t for the Snap. The kid would be five years older, anyway. Tony remembered seeing Peter during that final battle, as he rambled on about how Doctor Strange had come to get him, never once pausing to breathe. But then, after he’d snapped… nothing. He was just suddenly here.

Tony tried to shake himself of that train of thought. He needed to focus if he wanted to get back home.

This Peter was still smart, though, as was evident by his impressive suit. Tony hadn’t said as much yet, but even he could tell that the suit was technologically advanced and full to the brim with features. Maybe less than what Tony himself would’ve put in, but still.

When Tony thought he could get away with it, he commanded FRIDAY to scan and analyze Peter’s suit and tech. A few seconds later, and she had helpfully displayed the results.

Analyzing now… the suit is made of carbon fiber weave and graphene for the red and blue. The spider emblem is composed of pure carbon fiber. I’m also picking up traces of silk. It appears he has an AR heads-up display, which shows his geographical location, web, fluid levels, health, and other relevant data.

He hummed with satisfaction. So Peter was still a science nerd at least, and knew his way around technology. Tony wished the suit had more extra features, like a parachute. Maybe he could make a few suggestions while he was here. Yeah, that’d be nice.

Peter led them both towards the park entrance, and the sounds of the city assaulted Tony’s ears. Honking cars, shouts, general chattering of people talking on phones as they walked, and even the odd hustler trying to make a few bucks with rigged games.

“Let’s head up to this roof a couple blocks down,” Peter suggested. “It’s private, so we can talk.”

Tony opened his mouth, “If you think I’m going to just let you manhandle—“

Peter lifted him before he could finish, and Tony found himself swinging through the air until Peter landed them gracefully on our rooftop moments later. It was just as well that Tony was used to flying around in his Iron Man suit, or he was sure he would have hurled all over the place. Stupid teenagers.

“Sorry,” Peter spoke, not sounding sorry at all. “I’ve found it’s best to just get the whole swinging thing over with, especially when you’re not used to it.”

“I’ll have you know, smarty-pants, that I am not one to get motion sick.”

Peter removed his mask, and the smug little smile on his face was proof enough that even in other universes, he was a little shit. While annoyed, Tony was glad that some things hadn’t changed. Peter gestured with his head, “Would that have something to do with this weird metal suit you’ve got?”

Tony harumphed. “It would indeed, if it wasn’t so damaged.”

Peter nodded. “Alright, well, enough small talk, because I have so many questions right now. You know me, or claim to, anyway, and you say you’re from another universe, is that right?” When Tony just nodded instead of simply answering, Peter went on, “Alright, Tony, then prove it. Prove to me somehow that what you’re telling me is true.”

Tony sighed, somehow knowing that the conversation would go like this. It wasn’t like he blamed the kid for not believing him. Heck, he hardly believed himself; the least he could do was offer answers for him. Just how he would do that, though, well, that was another problem. Different universes meant that the details needed to convince Peter that he knew him would be different. Well, he’d start small and go from there.

“Your name is Peter Benjamin Parker,” he began. “Your parents died when you were young, and you were raised by your aunt and uncle.”

Tony could see the objection forming on Peter’s face; he could practically hear him uttering the words, “Anyone could look up that information.” So Tony went on.

“You got your powers when you were bitten by a radioactive spider, but you didn’t fully embrace them until your uncle‘s death. You felt responsible; you could’ve stopped what happened to him, but you didn’t, and you blame yourself.”

Peter’s smugness was slowly falling away from his face the longer Tony spoke, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You have this sixth sense that warns you of danger. I think you described it to me once like a tingle, and it tells you right before something is about to happen. You quip jokes when you’re anxious, especially during fights. You are one of the smartest kids I’ve ever met, and someday the world is going to know you for more than just Spider-Man.” Tony waited, feeling anxious for some kind of response. “Well?”

“Holy crap, you’re from an alternate universe.”

“Yup.”

“So multidimensional travel is real.”

“Pretty much,” Tony agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to add it to my growing list of impending world disasters. While we’re talking, what else is no longer theoretical? Please tell me astrology is still garbage, because if Mercury being in retrograde actually affects my tech, I’m going to be very upset.”

Peter laughed, but his mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide with shock. “N-no, astrology is still crap… but seriously, you find out that you just traveled dimensions and the first thing you ask is about astrology?”

Tony shrugged. “I won’t apologize for being me, kid.”

“That’s another thing,” Peter held up a finger. “I'm not a kid.”

“As someone older than you, you will always be a kid to me, so shut up.”

Peter shook his head.  “How exactly do we know each other? Are you another superhero?”

Tony gave him a blank stare. “I’m Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man.” He paused for a beat, hoping the name would trigger some kind of response. But there was nothing. Not even a twitch. Tony had just saved half the universe for cryin’ out loud! He… he couldn’t just be a nobody.

“You really haven’t heard of me?”

Peter frowned, and Tony realized he was examining his suit. “Unless the density of iron has changed, that suit is clearly too lightweight to be made of pure iron. I’m guessing some kind of alloy by the looks of it?”

A sense of pride inexplicably washed over Tony, temporarily drowning out his own existential crisis. God, this kid was smart. He wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that he missed this. “Gold-titanium,” Tony answered with a smirk. “Well, the original was iron, though the circumstances surrounding that suit are not something I would like to discuss right now. But yes, I am a superhero.”

“And that’s how I know you?”

“More or less yes, I kind of took you in as an apprentice. Intern? Prodigy?” He shrugged. “Semantics.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re here. How did you even get here?”

“That’s a great question, and one that I’m still trying to figure out.”

“So you don’t know?”

“No, no I don’t.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

Tony frowned. “You know, you were never this much of a smartass before. I don’t like it.”

“Well, if I’m your apprentice/trainee/intern, I should think it’s all your fault for teaching me. Because you seem to be quite snarky yourself.”

Tony shook his head. “Look, as great as this conversation has been, I need to go and meet myself, quite literally.”

It may not have been a perfect plan, but it was the only plan he had. He would go out into the world towards his tower, locate this world’s Tony, and go from there. Two Tony Starks could surely figure out this multiverse thing. And he’d figured out time travel alone! The possibilities to be had with a clone of himself? Infinite.

“Uhm,” Peter began to follow as Tony walked away. “First of all, sir, you’re still injured. You really should get those wounds looked at. Second, did you really just say that you’re going to go find this world’s version of you? Doesn’t that go against the laws of time travel or something?”

Tony turned around, barely holding back an eye roll. He was not about to get into a discussion about time laws right now. “I told you, my injuries are fine.” They were painful enough to bother him, but no way was he admitting that. “Just let me go and find my tower and I’ll be a happy camper.”

As Tony went to step away, Peter suddenly held out his arms to stop him. “Whoa, wait, hold up!” Peter exclaimed. “Did you say your tower? As in Stark tower?”

This time, Tony did roll his eyes. “You may be older, Peter, but you’re still just as clueless. Yes, my tower.”

“But I thought Howard was the head of Stark Industries?"

The world came to a standstill. Tony felt shaky. There was so much to unpack in that single sentence. Maybe he’d misheard the kid. “What did you just say?”

“Howard Stark is the CEO of Stark Industries. Are you like… related to him somehow? Because the last I heard, there was only one Stark.”

Tony’s mind didn’t just halt; it jammed, derailing like a train crashing into a skyscraper. None of the sounds of the city - the horns, alarms, the shouts and sirens - registered in his ears. The only thing at the forefront of his mind was the notion that Howard— his father, that person who had been responsible for at least 85% of Tony’s childhood trauma— was still alive. The one in charge of controlling a multi-billion-dollar company, who hadn’t been brutally killed in a staged car accident in the 90s.

The very idea of this was such a catastrophic and cruel twist of fate that Tony’s mind, usually so adept at calculations and engineering, couldn’t accept it. Because in those few simple words that Peter had spoken, Tony was being battered with onslaughts of memories of his father’s disapproval.

Right then, in that moment, Tony was no longer a grown man with a wife and daughter. He wasn’t a man who had saved the universe on several occasions or had just given up his own life to do so. He was just a neglected little boy with daddy issues that no suit of armor could protect him from. Was this what karma was? Was this his punishment for years of being a selfish and arrogant bastard? Why else would the universe see fit to torture him like this?

He turned fully to face Peter again, unable to keep the irritation from his voice, and demanded. “Is this some kind of joke, Peter?”

“What would I gain by joking? I don’t know you,” Peter reminded. “I’m just as lost here as you are.”

All at once, Tony’s heart skipped a few beats. It took everything Tony had not to fall to his knees as the words finally, slowly, began to settle into his mind. Howard Stark… was alive. Tony Stark did not exist.

He forced himself to focus, to steady the tremor that wanted to sneak into his voice. His mind ran through the logic: if Howard was alive, the entire trajectory of Stark Industries would be different. The company, the technology, the legacy—his legacy—none of it would be his. All those years spent crawling out of his father’s shadow, only to find that in some realities the shadow was still there, and thicker than ever... It was infuriating. It was terrifying. It was just plain wrong.

“Did… Howard didn’t have a child?” Tony found himself asking.

A pause, and Tony could see the exact moment that Peter realized why he was freaking out. “N-no, sir. He didn’t. There was… It’s a whole thing, but… he’s your father, isn’t he?”

“FRIDAY!” Tony shouted. “Scan all records you have access to here. Search for me.”

FRIDAY was diligent in her search, and Tony was holding his breath, waiting for something. Anything. There had to be some kind of mistake. There just had to be. He couldn’t not exist. It was bad enough he’d been sent here in the first place, but to not have ever existed? Had his crimes during his youth and weapon-producing days been so bad as to warrant this?

Maybe he really had died in the battle of Thanos after all.

Search completed. Peter is correct, boss. This world’s Howard Stark does not have a son, and there are no other Tony Starks who are a match. I’m sorry.

He needed to sit down. He needed to sit now and think. Tony needed a new plan. A new… anything. He’d been wrong before; this was much worse than Tennessee. He had no records, which meant no fortune. No lab. No company. No…

No Pepper.

No Morgan.

Panic surged through him like a bolt of lightning. His breathing began to quicken, and his heart began to pound. The last time he’d had a panic attack this bad, Pepper had force-fed him some horrible smoothie and made him breathe into a brown paper bag until he could recite Pi to the 50th place. But now there was no Pepper. Not even a paper bag. Just a broken suit with limited power remaining, and a Spider-Man who couldn’t seem to do anything but ask a thousand and one questions.

The world around him became blurry, and he was vaguely aware of Peter’s mouth moving— but no sound was heard— before things suddenly went black.

Chapter Text

There was a nanosecond where Tony Stark’s body was falling towards the rooftop, the world slowing to a crawl so that Peter could react accordingly. It was only due to his abilities and the resulting muscle memory (gained from his near-decade of superhero exploits) that allowed him to catch the man. Tony was injured enough without needing to crack his head open.

Peter gently began shaking his shoulder. “Mr. Stark? Tony?” There was no answer. Peter leaned down and concentrated, only relaxing when he could feel the man’s pulse and hear him breathing.

“Nice one, Pete,” he muttered to himself. “You really handled that one well.”

In all of his years of crime-fighting, he’d seen a lot of strange things. Villains calling themselves Scorpion and Rhino… Sandman, the guy literally made of sand, was up there. Then there was Dr. Conners—who knew that cross-species genetics could turn someone into a giant lizard? At least there were scientific explanations for these oddities. There wasn’t exactly an explanation for a guy in a metal suit of armor and claiming to be a hero, appearing randomly from another world.

So it was safe to say that Tony Stark, while Peter was convinced he wasn’t a villain, was up there with being the strangest person yet.

Peter leaned back on his heels, having been kneeling on the hard concrete roof long enough for pebbles to dig into his knees despite his suit. “Now what? What even happened?”

He has passed out from the mental stress of today. I suggest giving him rest.

Peter jolted. “What? Who is that?”

I am FRIDAY, Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth. I am part of Boss’ suit and I perform many functions for him.

“Woah,” Peter whispered. “So cool. So uh… he’s going to be okay, right?”

His heart rate and blood pressure are slightly elevated, but other than the wounds you yourself observed earlier, he is not in any danger.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

I would still suggest that his wounds be appropriately dealt with before infection becomes an issue.

“Right, of course.” Peter shook himself and started to focus. He wasn’t about to just leave the man behind, but… MJ was supposed to be coming after her shift at The Bugle.

He was glad once more for his technically advanced suit and built-in phone . Not only was it convenient to have a number specifically for his spider man duties, but it also insured that he never lost his phone. He’d done that one too many times as it was. With a few quick clicks and commands, MJ’s familiar number appeared on his HUD. He waited through three rings, his senses scanning the rooftop for any indication the weirdness wasn’t over. The line picked up.

“Hey, Pete,” MJ’s voice greeted him. “What’s up? Everything okay?” She paused before lowering her voice a little. “No attacks or villains I should be aware of?”

“Actually, no for once. But that doesn’t mean that weird things still aren’t happening. I definitely have a weird thing.”

“Okay…” she took a moment to let this sink in. “Should I be concerned about this ‘weird thing’?”

“I don’t think so?” he offered weakly.

Peter heard the sigh in her voice and could practically see her eyes rolling in the back of her head. “How about we stop beating around the bush and you just tell me what’s going on? Jamison is playing too many mind games as it is.”

“Okay, but you are not going to believe it.”

“Pete. How much weird crap have we seen together?”

“More than enough that me warning you should be an indicator about how serious I am.”

That made her pause. “Okay,” she seemed to resign herself. “I’ll try to believe you. Hit me with your best shot.”

“I met this guy who came here from a parallel universe, who knows me as Peter and Spider-Man, and apparently doesn’t exist here. Oh, and he’s supposedly the son of Howard Stark of Stark Industries.”

He waited, letting the static of the phone call fill the air. When it was clear she was floored by the answer, he tried to refrain from an “I told you so.” Instead he went with, “MJ? You still there?”

“Yeah… that’s just… wow.”

“I know.”

“And he’s still there? With you, I mean?”

“Yeah, he… he’s injured though, I guess from whatever happened before he got here? But yeah. You’re better at this than me. Should I take him back to my place?”

MJ’s voice was incredulous. “Of course you should! What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t know… I’m clearly a little confused by this whole situation.”

She sighed over the line. “If he really doesn’t exist, taking him to a hospital will just raise suspicions— you know, insurance, identity. Get him to your apartment and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, the relief in his voice clear as could be.

“See you soon.”

Thank goodness she was smart, or Peter knew he would have been dead long ago.

Peter turned the situation over in his mind like a weird, jagged puzzle piece that had gotten jammed into the wrong box. He looked at Tony Stark—who, for the moment, was just a guy sprawled facedown on a Queens rooftop, bleeding through his suit and breathing like he’d run a marathon with a Buick on his chest. He’d just dumped all of that, the multi-dimensional madness, the whole "I’m from another world" thing, on MJ—because she was the only person who could absorb that sort of weird and not flinch. It was almost funny, for a guy whose every day was a new flavor of disaster, how much he’d come to depend on her not batting an eye.

He imagined her, right now, somewhere between the end of her shift and the train, probably rolling her eyes so hard she’d see last week’s crossword puzzle. MJ processed world-shaking news with the same cadence she used to ask for extra fries at the diner they loved.

Focus, Peter, he told himself. He had more pressing issues than fawning over his girlfriend.

“FRIDAY?”

Yes, Peter?

“Should I be removing his suit before I swing back to my place? I don’t want him to bleed out, but it looks bulky.”

It would be inadvisable to remove it completely. However, I can manually remove all but the ones over his chest and his right arm.

“Yes, do that please.”

I have also taken a full analysis of his injuries and their severity. You will need medical supplies, bandages, antibiotic ointment, isotonic fluids. Also: Mr. Stark prefers caffeine and high-calorie snacks after trauma events.

Peter blinked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

Caffeine is not ideal, but Boss insists despite my numerous warnings and attempts to discourage the habit.

Peter smirked. “That also doesn’t surprise me.”

Peter watched in awe as the suit peeled itself away bit by bit, seemingly integrating itself into the small, glowing center on Tony’s chest. “That is so cool. Is that nanotech?”

Yes, it is, FRIDAY confirmed. Boss designed this iteration himself. The Mark 85 utilizes nanotechnology housed in the arc reactor, allowing for rapid deployment and self-repair capabilities.

“That’s incredible,” Peter said, watching the metallic particles flow like liquid mercury back into their compartment. It left behind only the damaged sections FRIDAY had mentioned - the right side of his torso and arm were still plated, presumably to provide compression and support for the injuries beneath. “I’ve been working on something similar, but the power requirements alone—”

Perhaps another time, FRIDAY interrupted. Boss requires medical attention.

“Right, sorry.” Peter shook himself. Here he was geeking out over tech while a guy was bleeding on a rooftop. Way to prioritize, Parker.

He carefully picked Tony up, mindful of the burns and trying not to jostle him too much. The guy was lighter than expected without the full suit, and Peter was suddenly very aware of how unconscious people were just… awkward to carry. He’d done this before, sure, but it never got less weird.

“Okay, uh, Tony,” Peter said, adjusting his grip. “Let’s get you somewhere safe. Try not to wake up mid-swing, because that would be really awkward for both of us.”

The trip back to his apartment was slower than usual. Peter took extra care with his swings, avoiding any sharp turns or sudden drops. The last thing he needed was this guy waking up while they were fifty feet in the air. That would be a fun conversation. “Hey, sorry, just kidnapping you a little bit. Don’t freak out!”

Yeah, no.

His mind kept going back to Tony’s face when FRIDAY had confirmed it. That look of absolute devastation when he’d realized he didn’t exist here. Peter tried to imagine it - waking up one day and finding out you were never born. That everyone you knew just… wasn’t there.

He couldn’t even wrap his head around it.

“FRIDAY? Are you able to like… integrate yourself into my tech? I would be able to hear you a lot better.”

A pause, and Peter made s few more swings before her voice came through.

How is this?

“Perfect, crystal clear.”

Peter landed on his fire escape and carefully maneuvered through his bedroom window. Getting Tony inside was trickier still, but he somehow managed without further injury or bodily harm.

Thank God he’d left it unlocked this morning. His apartment was small - okay, tiny - but it was private. That’s what mattered right now.

The place was exactly how he’d left it that morning - which meant it was a disaster. His desk was covered in half-finished circuit boards and a laptop that probably needed charging. A few textbooks were stacked haphazardly on the floor next to his bed (the bed that now had an interdimensional visitor in it, because his life was insane). There was a coffee mug on the nightstand that he’d forgotten about three days ago, and he was pretty sure something in his mini fridge had gone bad last week.

A framed photo of him and Aunt May sat on the desk, next to one of him, MJ, and Harry at Coney Island last summer. His Spider-Man suits - the older, more damaged versions - were shoved in the closet where he’d left them. At least he’d remembered to close that door.

This was not the kind of place you brought someone from another dimension. Especially not someone who apparently owned a tower. A whole tower. With his name on it.

Peter looked at Tony, unconscious and beginning to bleed on his suit, and decided that ship had sailed. Peter then carried him into his small living area and laid him down on the sofa as gently as possible. Only then did he step back and stare.

There was a guy from another dimension unconscious on his sofa. In his apartment. A guy who knew things about him that nobody should know.

This was fine. Totally normal Tuesday. Well, Wednesday. Whatever.

With a shake of his head, Peter grabbed his first aid kit from under the sink and set it on the table nearby. The pro version, because of course he needed the one that was basically a miniature pharmacy and ER. He pulled out bandages and antiseptic, trying to figure out where to even start.

Boss’ vitals are stable, FRIDAY announced. Heart rate 72 bpm, blood pressure 128/84. Higher than ideal, but not dangerous.

“Okay, good. That’s good.” Peter tugged his mask off and ran a hand through his hair. “How long until he wakes up?”

Difficult to say with certainty. Boss has experienced significant physical and psychological trauma. His body may require several hours of rest. However, knowing Boss, he will likely wake within the next 30-60 minutes purely through force of will and stubbornness.

Peter snorted. “Yeah, he seems like the type.”

He got to work cleaning the cuts on Tony’s face, trying not to think too hard about how weird this was. The burns looked bad but not terrible - second-degree, he thought. The remaining armor plates over Tony’s right side retracted at FRIDAY’s command, and Peter winced at the angry red skin underneath. Blistered in a few places, but could’ve been worse.

He worked carefully, methodically, the way he'd taught himself over the years of patching up his own Spider-Man injuries. Don't rush. Be thorough. And for God's sake, use enough antiseptic - that lesson had been learned the hard way.

It still felt invasive somehow. This guy knew him - or some version of him - and here Peter was, treating his injuries like… what? Like they were friends? They weren’t. Peter didn’t even know this guy.

But Tony had looked so relieved when he’d first seen him in the park. Like Peter was someone safe. Someone he could trust.

That had to count for something, right?

“FRIDAY?” Peter asked as he applied antibiotic ointment to a particularly nasty burn on Tony’s shoulder. “That glowing thing in his chest… is that safe to be around?”

The arc reactor is perfectly safe. It powers the suit and serves as a housing unit for the nanotechnology. It also replaced the electromagnet that was keeping shrapnel from reaching Boss’ heart.

Peter’s hand stilled. “Wait, what?”

FRIDAY paused, as if considering whether to continue. Boss was injured years ago. The arc reactor is what keeps him alive.

“That’s…” Peter didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Horrifying? Incredible? Both? He looked at the circular glow with new eyes. “So he built this thing to keep himself from dying, and then turned it into a power source for his suit?”

FRIDAY’s tone almost sounded approving. Correct. Boss has always been resourceful.

“That’s insane,” Peter muttered. “That’s brilliant and insane.” He went back to bandaging, more carefully now, very aware of how vital that glowing circle was. “Your… Boss. Tony. In his world, he really was my mentor?”

Yes. He recruited you after the incident in Berlin.

“Berlin?” Peter frowned. “What incident?”

Perhaps I have said too much, FRIDAY replied, but there was something almost amused in her synthetic voice. That information pertains to events in my universe, not yours.

“Right. Different worlds, different… everything.” Peter secured the last bandage and sat back. “It’s weird though. He knew things about me that I’ve never told anyone. About Uncle Ben. About my powers.”

You were close, FRIDAY said simply. Boss does not trust easily, but when he does, he is… protective.

Peter thought about that. About a version of himself that had Tony Stark as a mentor. As someone who cared. It was strange to mourn something he’d never had.

“Is that why he freaked out so badly?” Peter asked quietly. “When he found out he doesn’t exist here? Because he’s alone?”

There was a longer pause this time.

Boss just lost everything, FRIDAY said finally. His family. His friends. His purpose. Yes, Peter, that is why he ‘freaked out.’

The way she said his name made Peter look up, even though there was nothing to look at. FRIDAY sounded almost… reproachful. Protective.

“I wasn’t trying to be insensitive,” Peter said. “I just… I’m trying to understand.”

I know. FRIDAY’s tone softened. And I appreciate your assistance. Boss will as well, when he wakes. He simply needs time to process.

Peter nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. Or could she? He had no idea what kind of sensors were in that suit.

“Can I ask you something else?”

You may ask. I will determine whether I can answer.

Fair enough. “That battle he was in. The one with the purple alien. Did he… did he win?”

Another pause.

Yes, FRIDAY said. Boss won. But victory came at a cost.

Peter looked at Tony’s unconscious form, at the burns and the damaged armor and the exhaustion evident even in sleep.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m starting to figure that out.”

“What happened to him?” Peter wondered aloud.

He wasn't expecting any more details, and FRIDAY seemed to confirm that.

I have already said more than I perhaps should have. Boss will need to tell you the rest himself, when he is ready.

“Right,” Peter said quietly. “Got it. None of my business.”

Still, his eyes drifted to the burns, the damaged armor, the way Tony’s face was still tight with pain even unconscious. Whatever battle it had been, it had been bad. Really bad. The kind of bad that sent someone hurtling across dimensions, apparently.

A knock at the door made Peter jump about a foot in the air, his spider-sense buzzing even though he knew exactly who it was.

MJ. Right. He’d called MJ.

This was going to be interesting.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Chapter Text

Peter crossed the small apartment in three strides to open the door, and was greeted by MJ’s face. She stood there, still in her work clothes - black jeans, a Bugle press badge clipped to her belt, and that leather jacket she’d gotten at a thrift store in Brooklyn. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that way that meant she was already preparing herself for whatever insanity Peter was about to throw at her.

“So,” she said, stepping closer to him without waiting for an invitation. “Interdimensional traveler. That’s a new one, even for you.”

“Yeah, well, I aim to keep things interesting.” Peter met her in the entryway and caught her lips in a kiss, his hand resting on her cheek while the other wrapped around her waist. He pulled back a moment later, grinning like a fool. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she repeated, feigning exasperation, but her eyes were alight with affection that mirrored his own. “So where is this stranger?”

Peter finally stepped back, allowing her to enter, then closed the door behind her. “He’s over here on the sofa.”

MJ followed him to the living area, with Peter watching her face as she took in the scene. Tony was still unconscious, bandaged and burned, the arc reactor in his chest casting a faint blue glow across his features. The damaged armor pieces sat on Peter’s coffee table, looking completely out of place next to his scattered papers for class and a half-empty bag of chips. Peter’s face reddened, wishing that he’d cleaned up more before MJ’d arrived.

“I’ll just, uh…” he trailed off as he grabbed up the bag of chips and two used coffee mugs, hustling to the kitchen.

“Okay,” MJ said slowly. “That’s… definitely a guy. Definitely injured. Definitely has some kind of glowing thing in his chest.” She looked at Peter. “You weren’t kidding about the armor.”

Peter was back in the living room now, gathering up his essay papers and placing them safely in a binder. “Would I joke about something like this?”

“You joke about everything, Pete. It’s like your default setting.” But her tone was gentle and she was already moving closer to examine Tony. “How bad is it?”

“Second-degree burns, mostly,” he answered without looking. “Some cuts and bruises, too. FRIDAY says he’s stable, just… overwhelmed. Mentally, I mean.”

She frowned. “FRIDAY?”

“Oh, right.” Peter finally joined her again. “FRIDAY is his AI. She’s in his suit.” Peter gestured vaguely at the arc reactor. “FRIDAY, this is MJ. My girlfriend. She’s… my girlfriend, which I already said.”

There was a pause, and then FRIDAY’s voice came through Peter’s suit speaker, which he’d left on the arm of the couch. Hello, MJ. It is nice to meet you. Any friend of Peter’s is someone I am inclined to trust, though I reserve final judgment.

MJ blinked. “Did the suit just… did she just sass me?”

Peter grinned despite himself. “Told you. AI.”

I prefer the term ‘discerning,’ FRIDAY replied. And for the record, Peter, I do not ‘sass.’ I provide measured responses based on available data.

“Uh-huh.” MJ’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. “I like her already.” She crouched down next to the couch, studying Tony’s face. “So this is Tony, a guy who doesn’t exist in our world, but knows you in his world.” She looked up at Peter. “Did I get that right?” At his nod, she added, “That’s so weird.”

“You’re telling me.” Peter finally stopped cleaning, satisfied for the moment, and sat on the coffee table, careful not to disturb the armor pieces. “MJ, the things he knew… he knows about Uncle Ben. How I got my powers. He knows my middle name. He called me ‘kid’ like he’d done it a thousand times before.”

“And in his world, you two were…?”

“Mentor and mentee, I guess? He said he took me on as an intern or apprentice or something. He recruited me for some incident in Berlin.” Peter ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’d never quite broken. His mind was racing, and he’d no doubt that MJ could see that. “FRIDAY says we were close. That Tony doesn’t trust easily, but when he does, he’s protective.”

MJ was quiet for a moment, watching Tony’s unconscious face. “How does that make you feel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Pete.” She gave him that look, the one that meant she could see right through his deflections. He’d seen it too many times to mistake it. “There’s another version of you that had this… this relationship. This person who cared about him. And you’re sitting here bandaging a stranger who knows everything about you, but you know nothing about him. That’s got to be messing with your head.”

Peter wanted to deny it. Wanted to say it was fine, that he was fine, that it was just another weird day in the life of Spider-Man. But this was MJ, and she’d call him on that in a heartbeat. Plus, he knew better than to lie to himself. She was absolutely right– as usual. There was no point in denying.

“It’s weird,” he admitted with a rough exhale. “Really weird. Like… I keep looking at him and trying to figure out what this other Peter has that I don’t. What made Tony Stark decide to mentor him? Is he smarter? Braver? Less of a screw-up?”

“Peter—”

“And the worst part is, I’m actually kind of jealous.” The words came out before he could stop them. “How messed up is that? I’m jealous of myself in another universe for having something I never even knew I wanted.”

He trailed off, letting the silence surround them. They both knew the weight of those words. Peter had only been a child when his parents had died, a teen when Uncle Ben was killed, and Dr. Octavius’ breakdown was still fresh in his mind. Not to mention May, whose death still pained him if he thought about it for too long. But there was something about having a male role model that always alluded him. Everyone he’d ever gotten close to… eventually left.

MJ moved to sit next to him on the coffee table, their knees touching. “That’s not messed up. That’s human.”

“Yeah, well, it feels pretty messed up when the guy just found out he doesn’t exist here. That everyone he knows is gone.” Peter gestured at Tony. “I don’t know who all he’s lost when coming here, but the look on his face when he realized… MJ, it broke him. And here I am feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t get to have some cool mentor in a universe I’m not even from.”

He tried to downplay the pain, hoping that it would lessen the impact. But one glance at MJ told him it wasn’t working. She could see right through him.

“Hey.” MJ took his hand, squeezing it. “You’re allowed to feel things, even complicated things. It doesn’t make you selfish.”

Peter squeezed back, grateful for her presence. For her ability to just be there without making it weird. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, logistically. Practically.” Peter waved his free hand around the tiny apartment. “He can’t stay here. I can’t exactly have a grown man sleeping on our couch. And even if I could, where does he go after that? He has no identity here, no money, no records. He literally doesn’t exist.”

“Could he stay at a hotel? Use cash?”

He scoffed at this suggestion. “With what cash? He showed up with nothing but that suit.” Peter shook his head. “I certainly can’t lend him any. Even if he had money, hotels require ID. Credit cards. Things that someone from another dimension wouldn’t have.”

MJ chewed her lip, thinking. “You said he’s from Stark Industries, right? Could he go to them?”

He tilted his head, considering this. “I don’t know. Imagine walking up to your alternate universe family and saying, ‘Hi, I’m your son from another dimension, will you take me in?’” Peter shrugged. “I don’t even know what their relationship was like in Tony’s world. I wonder… FRIDAY?”

Mr. Stark’s relationship with his father was complicated. Howard Stark was emotionally distant and often prioritized his work over his son. They had unresolved issues when Howard died.

Both Peter and MJ looked at the suit.

“Howard’s dead in your world?” MJ asked.

Yes. He and his wife Maria were killed in 1991. Boss was 21 at the time.

“Jesus,” Peter muttered.

“So Tony lost his parents young, too,” MJ said quietly. She looked at Peter, who was coming to the same conclusion that she was. “Maybe that’s part of why the two of you connected.”

The idea of having a friendship that deep with someone, bonding over their shared trauma and trials, while also being geniuses and superheroes… it made Peter’s chest ache that much more. He could only imagine what that must be like. He could feel the jealousy starting to bubble inside, but tried to shove it away.

“Okay, so the Stark Industries idea is out,” MJ said, getting back to business. “What about… I don’t know, maybe…” but she trailed off, as if realizing there really wasn’t an easy answer. “He really is alone here.”

Peter stood up and started pacing, needing to move. “I don’t know what to do, or who I’d even call about this.” He began ticking things off on his fingers. “We can’t take him to a hospital because he has no insurance or identity. We can’t take him to Stark Industries because that would be insane. We can’t leave him on the streets because he’s injured and he’s clearly going through some kind of crisis. So what? He just… stays here? In my apartment?”

“For now, maybe yes,” MJ said. She stood too, catching Peter’s arm to stop his pacing. “Look, I know it’s not ideal. I know it’s complicated and weird, and we have no idea what we’re doing. But Pete, you did the right thing bringing him here. He needed help, and you helped him. That’s what you do, because you’re Spider-Man. And because you’re Peter Parker, a good person.”

His eyes softened just a little. “But for how long? What if he can’t get back to his world? What if he’s stuck here?”

“One step at a time.” She cupped his face with both hands, making him look at her. “Right now, he needs rest and medical care. When he wakes up, we’ll talk to him. Figure out what he wants to do, what he needs. See if FRIDAY can help him create some kind of identity. But you can’t solve everything in one day, Peter. You can’t save everyone from every problem immediately.”

Peter knew she was right. She was usually right about this stuff. But the helplessness still gnawed at him.

“What if I make it worse?” he asked quietly. “What if bringing him here was the wrong call?”

She frowned at him. “As opposed to what? Leaving him in the park to get arrested? Taken to a psych ward?” MJ shook her head. “You gave him a safe place. You gave him time. That’s more than anyone else would have done.”

Peter, FRIDAY said, something almost gentle in her synthetic voice, Boss would not want you to feel guilty for helping him. He would say that you did exactly what needed to be done. And he would be grateful, even if he does not say so immediately. He is not always good at expressing appreciation in the moment.

That brought a surprise laugh out of Peter. “Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

MJ smiled and pulled him into a hug. Peter wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her familiar scent. It was grounding. Real. His world, exactly as it was supposed to be. For a few seconds, the insanity of this day faded from his mind. It was just him and MJ. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. “For being here. For not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Oh, I definitely think you’re crazy,” she said, pulling back to look at him, a big, teasing smile on her face. “But that’s why I love you.”

Peter was about to respond when a low groan came from the couch.

Chapter Text

Consciousness returned to Tony in stages.

First came the pain– a dull, persistent throb that radiated through his body, originating at his right side and face. The ache and burn from his wounds gained in that great battle. Then came the subtle awareness of his body. He could feel something soft beneath him, the pressure of bandages, and the cold metal of the arc reactor in his chest. The last stage was sound. Low voices were speaking around him, whispers as if whoever they belonged to were trying to keep from waking him.

Tony was in no rush to open his eyes, content to let these sensations process a moment. He knew his armor was no longer surrounding him due to the lack of weight, and the aforementioned softness under him– like a bed or a cushion. Someone had removed it. Someone had bandaged him. Someone had brought him… somewhere.

That someone was nearby.

The memories hit him like a bolt of lightning. The battle. The snap. Riverside Park. Peter Parker– the wrong one. Not his Peter. A parallel universe where Tony Stark never existed, had never been born.

A breath heaved its way out of him, shuttering and constricted. Yeah, this clearly sucked. Any of these on their own was enough to deal with, but having them all at once to deal with was its own muddled mess. Tony could tell by the amount of pain his body was in that he was not equipped to deal with it right now, as much as he’d try to deny it should anyone ask.

“--think he’s waking him,” came one of the voices. Peter. That was definitely Peter’s voice, even if it still sounded wrong. Too mature, too confident. But those eyes… Tony remembered looking in the kid’s eyes and just knowing without a doubt that this was Peter. Even if it was another version of him. No one else had the ability to look so intelligent and simultaneously innocent.

Tony finally forced his eyes to open, blinking against the dim lighting of what appeared to be a small living room. Apartment, then. That made sense, an older Peter wouldn’t be living at home with his aunt. His vision was blurry for a moment until he finally focused on the two human-like figures standing a few feet away. He recognized Peter first, now out of his suit and wearing regular civilian clothing. No T-shirts with puns, which Tony was a bit disappointed in finding. Next to Peter–

Tony had to blink several more times.

A young woman stood with her arms crossed, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was watching him with sharp, assessing eyes. It was the kind of gaze that cut through one’s crap and found the heart of whatever was the truth. He knew that look, as he’d been subjected to it enough times. The way she held herself as well, with that subtle tilt of her head, the confidence she held…

It wasn’t Pepper. Of course it wasn’t. How could it possibly be her? Whoever this woman was, she was still younger with different features, and her style was distinct. But her very nature– her presence, the competentness that oozed from her–

His throat constricted. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter cut through his racing thoughts, taking a cautious step forward. “You’re okay. I brought you to my apartment. Do you remember passing out?”

Oh yeah. Now that he’d mentioned it, Tony remembered his world suddenly going dark. He replied with a gruff, “Yeah. Course I do.” He tried to sit up, but his body immediately protested that by sending signals of pain from his right side. He fell back against the cushions with a groan, gritting his teeth as the waves died down.

“Easy,” the woman– the Pepper doppelganger - spoke at last. Even the tone of her voice held that same no-nonsense quality that he used to hear from Pepper. “You’ve got severe burns, and probably a concussion. You need to take it nice and slow.”

“I”m fine,” Tony waved them off. “Seriously, by my standards, being conscious and talking is practically a gold medal in the Olympics of health and injury. The bar is low, I’m aware.” His voice wasn’t nearly as convincing as his words, even to his own ears.

The woman’s intensity only wavered for a second, which Tony was honestly impressed by. For not knowing him at all, she was handling his antics like a pro. “Yeah, you look fine,” she answered dryly. She turned and walked into the apartment’s small kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle of water. “Drink.”

The word was a command, not a suggestion. He usually would have argued, but it wasn’t until he saw the bottle being handed to him that he realized how thirsty he was. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last eaten or drank anything. It must have been before the snap, and before the attack on the compound. The cool liquid felt like life itself, and he downed half the bottle before he truly noticed the two young adults in the room just watching him. Both wore identical expressions of concern and worry.

“Did something happen while I was out? Do I have neon blood on my forehead or something? Why are you staring at me?”

The girl’s expression screamed, ‘what the heck is wrong with you?’ while Peter looked somewhat apologetic. “Sorry. We were just… worried. That’s all.”

“Huh.” Tony’s left hand absently rested in the center of his chest, where the housing unit for his nanotech lay in a mockup of his arc reactor. The gesture was a habit he’d found himself doing, a small reassurance that he could protect himself and others if the need arose. Even though he knew, logically, that there was no danger. Even in another universe, Peter wasn’t going to hurt him. The redhead - a girlfriend, if he had to guess - while she had sass, also wasn’t dangerous. But getting his subconscious to believe it was another story.

“I’m MJ,” she broke the long awkward silence, then settled down in a small comforter across the room. “Peter filled me in on the basics. You know, the alternate universe part, at least.”

“Girlfriend?” The word came out before Tony could stop himself, tinted with surprise. He recalled the kid mentioning some girl named MJ a few times, and had clearly seen the signs of a typical adolescent crush, but it had never gone anywhere. Tony was not going to bring up the subject, either, though he did have a nice little birds-and-the-bees or man-to-man talk outlined for whenever Peter had the nerve to ask for advice. But he’d never had the chance to use it. The world had been half wiped-out, including the kid. Now, it seemed, Peter hadn’t even needed the talk. He was older now. Obviously, he’d figured things out by now.

Because alternate-Peter got to live a normal life. He’d be able to graduate high school, go to college, date his girl, and still be Spider-Man. And do it safely, to boot! The suit he’d seen earlier was a thousand times better than the onesie he’d first started out with. This Peter didn’t have to worry about aliens. Had never been in space, or dusted on Titan. Never–

Never needed Tony.

Tony forced himself to stop that line of thinking. That was a rabbit hole of existential proportions which would no doubt lead to at best, an anxiety attack. He couldn’t allow himself to spiral.

“Yeah, girlfriend,” MJ confirmed, eyes never leaving him. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was not okay. He was far from okay. Like the farthest a person could be. Literally, an entire universe away. But he couldn’t unload that on a couple of young kids who were just living their life. Who had already done more for him than they should have.

“I’m just peachy,” he replied, letting the sarcasm bleed through. “Cool as a cucumber. Any other food-appropriate analogies you’d like to hear? Just not zucchini, because that one’s a euphemism and I’ve since grown up enough not to make those kinds of jokes in the company of those under 30.”

Both Peter and MJ stared at him with a look that roughly translated to, “Is this guy serious?”

“I’m fine,” Tony insisted again, this time fighting against the pain as he forced himself to sit up. It was ridiculous to argue while being horizontal. “Just… you know, processing.”

“Right,” MJ said in a tone that betrayed the word. She shared a glance with Peter– one of those wordless communications that couples and best friends developed over time. The kind that allowed them to exchange words without ever speaking. “Well, you can take your time processing, but we still need to talk. All three of us. Because while it’s great that you’re here, there are many, many questions that need to be addressed. Questions that only you can answer. I think we need to hear this whole story from you. The whole thing, top to bottom.”

She ended her small speech by crossing her arms over her chest. Tony assumed it was an attempt to look more intimidating or serious, which she didn’t need. God she did remind him of Pepper. The dry sarcasm, the refusal to baby him, that to-the-point attitude. Maybe she was related to Pep somehow. He’d have to remember to look into that later.

“Right,” Tony said while rubbing his eyes. “The story. God,” he began shaking his head. “Where do I even start?”

“Well, when we were in the park, you did mention something about a giant purple alien? That seems pretty important.”

Tony let out a bark of a laugh. “Big. Yeah, that’s one word for that asshole.” He rubbed at his face some more, trying to gather his thoughts. There would be a lot to explain. “If I’m going to sit here and tell the story, can we at least get some pizza or something? I’m starving.”

This time Peter was the one to let out a laugh. “I think I can handle that.”

Tony waited until the order was placed, then Peter and MJ made themselves comfortable on the armrest of the sofa and nearby chair, respectively. Then he took a deep breath and began. “Alright. So. This all began, from my perspective, five years ago. This alien warlord named Thanos shows his big ugly face here on Earth.”

“What kind of name is Thanos anyway?” MJ asked.

“The kind that belongs to a genocidal maniac with a god complex,” Tony answered.

“That’s… oddly specific,” Peter muttered.

“I’m not kidding, either,” Tony added. “The guy was obsessed with the idea that the universe was overpopulated. Too many people, not enough resources. He thought he was salvation, the answer to all of the problems in the universe. Like I said: God complex.”

Peter frowned. “How did he intend on fixing things?”

“Oh, just by killing half of all living things.” The silence that followed was deafening. “Yeah. That’s right. Half of everything. People, animals, plants. All of them. All he needed to do was snap his fingers and–” he groaned, having attempted to snap the fingers of his right hand unconsciously, forgetting that he was still injured. “Anyway. It would be completely random, impartial. He called it mercy.”

“That’s insane,” Peter shook his head. “Was he just that powerful? How exactly did he plan to do this?”

“That’s the other half of the story,” Tony continued. “Infinity stones. Do you know anything about those?” The silence that followed was expected. “ Good, trust me, you’re better off that way. There are six of these stones that control some fundamental aspect of existence. Space, time, reality, power, mind, and soul. Get them all together, and you can control anything. Make anything happen.”

“And he got them,” MJ said quietly.

Tony nodded slowly. “He got them.”

“Wait,” Peter interrupted. “Did you try to take on a world-dominating alien all by yourself?”

“Of course not,” Tony scoffed, looking offended. “I may be a selfish bastard, but I’m not stupid. I had a team. Earth’s mightiest heroes.” He paused here, expecting understanding to appear on their faces. Instead… nothing.

Peter gestured with his hands. “And these heroes, they are…?” he prompted.

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Tony held up a finger. “Are you trying to tell me that you, Spider-Man, are the only superhero in this universe?”

“No! I know better than that. I’ve just never heard of a group of heroes teaming up like what you’re describing.”

“The Avengers?!” Tony’s outburst made both Peter and MJ jump. “That ring any bells?”

Silence. Both shook their heads.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered softly. “Of all the places for me to end up–”

“Why don’t you tell us who these heroes are?” MJ suggested. “We might not have a team, but maybe we know them anyway?”

“Right. Sure.” Tony cleared his throat. “It started out with six of us: me, Hulk, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Captain America. He and I are like the leaders.”

“Did you say Thor, as in, the Norse god?” MJ asked. Simultaneously, Peter mentioned that they knew of a Captain America in this world.

“Of course you know Spangles McGee,” Tony quipped. “We’re getting sidetracked. Back to the Avengers. We started out as six, but eventually grew to like… what, fifteen/twenty something? I don’t even know. Point being…” and here Tony sighed, lowering his eyes as the memories came flooding back. “We tried to stop him. God, did we try. But he already had some of the stones by the time he got to Earth. And then he got the rest, and… “ Tony’s hand clenched. “He snapped his fingers. Just like he said he would. Half of all life turned into dust.”

Tony glanced back up and looked at Peter, whose face had gone pale. “Dust?”

“Disintegrated. Gone. Including—” Tony’s voice caught in his throat. He wanted to say it. Wanted to tell Peter, but he just couldn’t. So he didn’t. Instead he said, “Including half of us Avengers. We tried to go after Thanos once and for all… and we killed him. But not before he destroyed the stones forever. We spent the next five years apart, trying to find a way to move on, or in my case, how to fix it. Eventually, I figured out time travel. So we went back in time to before he got the stones, snapped our own fingers, and brought everyone back.”

“You figured out time travel?!” Peter exclaimed. “That– are you for real?”

Tony glared at yet another interruption. Something in his face must have scared Peter, for he sobered up immediately. “Sorry.”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” MJ whispered.

Tony shrugged. “You’d be amazed at what you can accomplish when you’re motivated by cosmic genocide.”

“But that would mean everything was great,” Peter said, and Tony could see in his eyes how his mind was working at putting the pieces together. “But then there was still some battle, wasn’t there?”

Tony nodded. “Thanos from the past figured out what we were doing, somehow– I’m still not sure on the specifics. But he used our own tech to come to our present and attack us directly. He brought his entire army with him. There were thousands of them, kid. It was… it was the biggest battle I think that anyone’s ever seen. Everyone who’d ever been an Avenger, or who worked with us in any capacity, all showed up. We all fought together to protect the stones, because he wanted to wipe out everybody this time.”

Tony had to pause, as his hands began to shake. Scenes from the battlefield were flashing across his mind. His breathing began to quicken.

Boss, perhaps it would be helpful if I showed the footage.

“The what?” Tony blinked. “You have— of the last few moments of–?”

Yes, FRIDAY answered, but I’m not sure you want to see it. Your heartrate is already increasing.

But Tony knew he couldn’t actually say the words he needed. Not yet. Not when he couldn’t say for certain that he’d actually done it. “Play it, FRI. Show them.”

********

A blue hologram protected into the air, settling itself around the coffee table. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. The digital image showed devastation on a scale he’d never seen. Not even the worst of his battles with enhanced villains had managed to create such destruction. The hologram depicted the ruins of some sort of structure, though Peter had no idea what, with smoke and fire billowing up into the air. 

There in the middle of the screen, was a scaled-down Tony. Kneeling. Bleeding. Alone. A few feet ahead of him stood a much larger figure, with a bulging chin and armor. Thanos. He was massive, easily several feet taller than any human, and armored in gold. His face held nothing akin to mercy or kindness. 

Real-Tony’s eyes were no longer watching the playback, but were instead darting between Peter and MJ as they took in the scene. He’d gone rigid, Peter noticed, and sweat began beading on his forehead.

With a jolt, Peter realized what was happening. He can’t watch his own death. Instead, he was watching Peter and MJ watch it.

Tony was deflecting his own trauma by analyzing theirs. Peter had seen this before in his uncle when he’d come home from work if it had been an especially bad day. Ben would focus on May, asking how her day went and trying what he could to make it better, never wanting to focus on his own stress. That was what Tony was doing, just… on a different scale. Literally, watching his own death.

Boss, your heart rate– FRIDAY started to say.

“I know,” Tony snapped. “Just keep playing.”

Peter wanted to ask why Tony would make himself go through this when it was clearly affecting him. The words were on the tip of his tongue when the answer came. Because it was the same reason Peter went to Uncle Ben’s grave every year. The reason every one of his failures ran through his mind at night when he couldn’t sleep. Because the guilt demanded to be felt.

There was a grunt as Thanos was placing the last stone into the gauntlet-covered arm. He cried out with only minor pain as surges of electricity and power exploded through his arms and body. 

Peter’s eyes were transfixed onto the video. Holo-Tony suddenly surged forward for Thanos’ arm, attempting to yank the armor right off. He was clearly desperate, his movements jerky and weakened from the prior battle. This was a last-ditch effort, right before giving up. 

Thanos kicked Tony with a knee, and real-Tony flinched with the blow, as if being struck all over again. He did the same when Thanos landed two more well placed punches that sent holo-Tony flying backwards. Holo-Tony laid there, unmoving in the dirt and gravel.

Peter’s spider-sense was screaming at him, despite the danger being in video-form. His body didn’t know the difference, or didn’t care. All his sense knew was that the situation was tense, that something terrible was about to happen. 

“I… am.. Inevitable,” Thanos said slowly before raising his arm, preparing to snap his fingers. Only to realize when nothing happened, that the stones were gone. That Tony had taken them.

“No,” Peter heard himself whisper.

Holo-Tony was on his knees, his posture straight and silent. Peter could see the exact moment that the stones settled, and could only watch as the enormous amount of power surged through his suit and body. Real-Tony shut his eyes.

“I remember,” Real-Tony said, his voice hollow. “I remember exactly what that felt like.”

Holo-Tony looked at Thanos with an intensity that was full of five years of suffering, and something in it broke Peter's heart. There was pain there, but also resolution. Acceptance. This was a man who knew he was about to die and was choosing it anyway.

“Don't,” MJ breathed, like she could change what had already happened. “Don't do it.”

But Peter knew. He knew because he'd made the same choice a hundred times in smaller ways. Because that's what heroes did—they gave everything to save everyone else. Peter's eyes burned. “You knew you wouldn't survive this.”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted. “Yeah, I did.”

The words should have sounded triumphant, resolute. Instead, they sounded more like a prayer. LIke a goodbye.

“And I… am… Iron Man.”

SNAP.

The sound shouldn’t have been loud, but in Peter’s small apartment, the sound echoed. There was a bright white light that saturated everything, rendering nothing visible. Then… nothing. The hologram dissipated, and the three were left to try and process it all.

MJ was the first to break the silence. “You… that’s all you have, isn’t it?”

Tony gave a single nod. “Yeah.” His voice was rough now.

“You… you don’t even know what happened after that,” she said with a start.

Peter’s head snapped to her, then back to Tony. “What are you talking about?”

He knew MJ was smart, obviously. Her expression said it all; it was doing that thing where she was three steps ahead of everyone else, connecting dots that Peter was still trying to find. He was half expecting her to find the answer to string theory someday. Right now, however, she rolled her eyes in a way that Peter recognized as frustration that he wasn’t keeping up. “He doesn’t even know if it worked.”

“… Oh.”

Oh.

That single word didn’t feel adequate for the realization that crashed over him. Tony had sacrificed himself without any confirmation that it had actually worked.

“It worked,” Tony said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “It has to have worked. If not, then this was all for nothing. I can’t live with that.”

Peter found himself nodding because what else could he do? What else could any of them do when faced with that?

“I don’t even know how this happened,” Tony added, and for the first time since waking up, he sounded genuinely lost.

I have been working on that, FRIDAY interrupted. My working theory is that the infinity stones channeled enough energy that they caused a dimensional breach. The readings of energy I measured were astronomical. Instead of killing you, you were sent through the breach.

“Well, there you have it then.” Tony slapped his good hand on his knee with a false cheer that didn’t reach his eyes. “Gotta love AI. I don’t know what I did without it.”

The deflection was so familiar to Peter that he almost wanted to smile, but knew there was nothing funny about this. Tony was using jokes as a shield the same way Peter used them during fights to calm his nerves. And now that he’d seen that, he couldn’t unsee it. He was able to see past the quick-comebacks to the haunting look just behind his eyes. He was scared to death. Peter would be too if he woke up one day in a world without MJ.

“Tony?” MJ’s voice was suspiciously soft, and Peter knew whatever she was going to say next would be heavy. “I don’t want to pry, but… did you have a family?”

Peter’s heart froze. He wanted to quickly do something, anything to get her to take back her words. His jaw dropped, mind racing for the right thing to say when–

“Yes,” Tony’s answer was choked. “A wife, and… my daughter. Morgan.”

Peter’s heart sank. 

“She’s only four but she’s already so damn smart,” Tony went on, eyes shining with both pride and unshed tears. “I didn’t ever imagine myself being a father, but… the minute I found out I was going to be one…” He trailed off, leaving a heavy silence in the air. 

Peter felt something breaking in his chest. The image of a little girl waiting for her father to come home, the pain of never seeing him again. It was all too easy for him to remember himself at a similar age going through the exact same thing. He knew that pain all too well. And now, yet another child was going through it.

No. Peter clenched his fists. “We’re going to help you,” he said, the words blurting out with all the conviction he felt, which surprised him. Even MJ looked at him with surprise.

Tony lowered his head, looking at Peter with a look akin to pity and disbelief. “Kid, you don’t have to–”

“I mean it,” Peter repeated. “If you know me as well as you say you do - the other me, at least - then you know why I have to. You said that you know my parents died. I know how that feels, what Morgan feels, and if I can do anything to prevent that, I[m going to. I may not know how, but we’ll figure it out.”

He looked to MJ, who had been looking as if she were about to smack him upside the head, but her expression softened, and he knew she was on board. Tony was more reserved, though there was a tiny spark of hope in his eyes.

“You can’t,” Tony shook his head. “You have no idea if it’s even possible–”

“Yeah, well, a few hours ago, I thought interdimensional wormholes and time travels were impossible, and here we are. Besides, you figured out the technology once before! You can do it again.”

“That was when I had resources,” Tony argued. “Money, a company, a reputation.”

“Tony does have a point,” MJ interjected. “But Peter, once he has his mind set on something, it’s hard to change.”

“Sounds familiar,” Tony quipped, but it wasn’t quite enough to bring back his smirk. “I think that’s one of the things that–” Tony stopped and shook his head, trialing off. “Nevermind. Kid… I just don’t see how this is gonna work.”

Peter crossed his arms. “You really didn't seem like the type of guy who gives up at the first roadblock. You're the kind who looks at a locked door and doesn't just pick the lock—you redesign the whole door. And add a window, with curtains. And a doorbell. One of those smart doorbells with the camera.”

Both pairs of eyes stared at him. Peter’s face reddened. “That… kinda got away from me.”

“A redesigned door,” Tony repeated slowly.

“I panicked.”

“With a smart doorbell.”

“Can we move past this, please?”

Tony began to shake his head. “It’s… actually not a terrible metaphor.”

“Really?” Peter brightened. “I was worried it was going to come out stupid.”

“Oh, it definitely did,” MJ muttered under her breath.

Tony held up a finger. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard, because it is. And I once had Captain America try to motivate me with a speech about the price of freedom. Trust me, that was a doozy.” 

He went quiet, and Peter watched as something shifted in his expression– the humor was fading back, replaced again by exhaustion and worry. “I really won’t be able to change your mind, will I?”

Peter shook his head. “Nope.”

A beat. Then Tony nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”