#i don’t like superhero movies but goddamnit that was incredible

[zarophod]

watching across the spiderverse was the best decision of my life

[ema--vee]

make your heart believe

DO NOT TAG AS SHIP

Tony Stark had never been this happy.

He had of course found happiness before, but it always seemed fleeting. As soon as he made something good for himself, the universe seemed determined to rip it away.

So, he’d pretty much decided to stop trying.

But now, he truly felt like nothing could ruin his mood. Thanos was gone, the universe was safe, and somehow, by some wonderful, incredibly miracle, everyone lived.

His original teammates—the first family he made for himself—were back and better than he ever thought they could be. In the wake of half the world disappearing, it had been the grief that brought them back together. He’d been scared that everything would dissipate once the Earth didn’t need them to be a team anymore, but it didn’t.

After New York, when they first came together, he’d finally felt like he found the people he needed. Now, when he looked back, that group might has well have been strangers. They had nothing on the closeness and actual love he felt for them now.

Even better, though, was the return of everyone who’d been dusted. Okay, mainly Peter. Having the kid back was the best thing in the universe.

After Titan, he’d been a wreck. Somehow, he’d been one of the seemingly lucky ones—not only was he himself still alive, but so were his best friends and his fiancée. Pepper, Happy, Rhodey—he was glad they’d made it, so, so glad, but it barely made a dent in the agonizing grief. Peter Parker had been snuffed out as if he weren’t the brightest soul in the universe, and it had been all his fault. Surviving didn’t seem so lucky.

Seeing Peter alive had done more to right his world than any of the rest of the universe rematerializing.

Goddamnit, Tony had never felt so whole.

Maybe that was why everyone finally felt like a family. Maybe, all along, he was just missing Peter.

The rest of the team had taken to Peter immediately. Of course they did, it was impossible not to love the kid. They’d already heard all about him while they were trying to save the world, but no way could Tony’s stories do the kid justice. And Peter was ecstatic being constantly bombarded by the Avengers, who all vied for his attention pretty much constantly.

He’d been spending more and more time at the compound with all of them. At first, Tony had been worried that May wouldn’t want to ever let the kid out of her sight, and he’d been scared he’d never get the chance to see Peter. But May had been surprisingly understanding of Tony and Peter’s need to find stability around each other. Both the kid and his aunt were welcome at the compound anytime, and to Tony’s relief, they actually took him up on the offer.

It was good. Tony needed the kid around. It proved that he wasn’t dust on a distant planet anymore, and Tony could handle anything as long as it meant Peter was alive.

Criminals, aliens, Barnes drinking the last of the coffee—none of it could faze him.

Peter was here and alive and Tony was happy.

Saturdays had become designated Peter and Tony days. They texted and video-chatted throughout the week, and he still came over on Fridays to work in the lab, but Saturdays were their days. Just the two of them, no Avengers, no work, no superheroing, just good, old-fashioned bonding.

They started out the day with pancakes, since they were easy enough that even Tony could make them, and Peter could experiment with whatever toppings and flavors he wanted, since the kid was going to eat like twenty of them anyways.

Tony ate his own normal-sized plate of pancakes while Peter chowed down on flavor combinations that shouldn’t work, but he seemed to be enjoying them.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” the kid said around a mouthful of food. “This is really good.” He swallowed and beamed over at Tony with a smile that could power a solar system. It had to be Tony’s favorite sight, and he made it his mission to make sure it never went away.

He and Peter liked to do mundane things together. Last week they played laser tag, the week before they watched all the Lord of the Rings movies in one sitting, the week before they played board games that Peter loved when he was younger. Today, they planned to work on Peter’s driving, grab some greasy diner food, and spend the evening relaxing in their blanket fort, Peter with a book his scary friend had recommended, Tony with one Peter had recommended.

It was perfectly domestic, and every moment made Tony feel more stable and relaxed than he had in a very long time.

And when Peter fell asleep sitting up, Tony didn’t even hesitate to scoop him up and carry him to bed, pulling off his shoes and tucking him in before placing a light kiss on his forehead.

“Night, kiddo. Love you.” It was so easy to say.

Tony fell asleep easily that night, not a single nightmare plaguing him.

“Boss,” came Friday’s voice, jolting Tony awake. “Mr. Parker appears to be having a nightmare and is in distress.”

Tony nodded, immediately jumping out of bed. The nightmares, thankfully, were less common than Tony had anticipated, but that didn’t mean they were nonexistent. Fortunately, Tony had learned fairly quickly how to calm his kid down.

When he got to Peter’s room, the kid was already awake, sitting up and clutching at his blankets with white knuckles as he hyperventilated.

Immediately, Tony moved to sit next to him, Peter automatically reaching up to allow himself to be tugged into Tony’s arms. They’re ability to comfort each other had become routine.

“It’s alright, Peter, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. He’s gone. You’re safe, okay? I promise.”

“I know, I know,” Peter sniffed into his shoulder. “Can you…” he trailed off, chewing on his lip.

“What is it, kid? What can I do?”

“Can you… Could you maybe tell me about it? When—when you won? I’ve—I’ve never heard the story.”

“Do you think it would help?” Normally, he would immediately indulge Peter in whatever he asked him to do, but for some reason, the idea of recounting the story of defeating Thanos made his chest feel hollow.

“I... I don’t know. Maybe?”

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe we should just talk about something else, to take your mind off of it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Peter smiled up at him weakly and blinked tears away from his eyes. “You’re right, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course I am,” he said, and it felt like a success when Peter let out a short, wet laugh.

It didn’t take long for Peter’s tears to dry and for the kid to fall back asleep. Record time, Tony was pretty sure. He was getting good at comforting his kid. Peter’s head was pillowed on his chest, so he knew there was no way he was moving tonight, partly so he wouldn’t disturb his sleep, partly because having Peter there meant he was real and alive—and that was Tony’s favorite thing in the world.

But something still bugged him. It twisted in his stomach and spread unease through his limbs, until his comfort melted away and was replaced by a sense of source-less discomfort.

He should have been able to tell him. He should have been able to tell Peter about how he would do anything to bring him back from the dead. He should have been able to tell him how they defeated Peter’s nightmare.

So, what was the problem?

Tony lay in bed, Peter sleeping tucked into his side, staring at the ceiling, and trying to come up with an answer.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized—

He didn’t actually know how it happened.

It should be one of his best memories—the moment that grape-flavored bastard got what was coming to him—but he couldn’t find it. He didn’t even know who delivered the final blow or wielded the gauntlet and stitched the universe back together.

Those parts of his memory were made of static, nothing but buzzing, grey white-noise.

He looked down at Peter’s sleeping form, watching his chest rise and fall. Somehow, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember. Peter was here, and he was happy and that’s all that mattered. He deserved to happy for once. It had been a long time coming.

He ruffled Peter’s curls gently, relishing the way the kid smiled at the touch, even in his sleep.

But then he blinked, and for a split second everything seemed… off.

Like looking at a 3-D movie screen without the glasses, everything tinged with ghostly red echoes. He didn’t feel connected to the floor, to the bed, to Peter.

Then the world went back to normal. Peter sniffed in his sleep, nose crinkling up the way Tony always thought made him look like an adorable sleeping puppy.

He was so, so tempted to pretend nothing had happened, that it had just been a trick of the light and his tired mind.

But Tony Stark was never one to turn his back when something was wrong. He had to understand. Ignorance, he had learned, was not bliss but death and destruction. Peter, Pepper, all his teammates and friends—he couldn’t ignore it if there were even a chance that they were in danger.

Thanos. What had happened to him? What had happened to the gauntlet? To the infinity stones?

He… he couldn’t remember. He should remember. He should know.

He blinked and the red was back. He couldn’t feel Peter’s curls under his fingers. He couldn’t feel anything. A ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, shrill and deafening. He winced, plugging his ears but it didn’t do a thing.

Just when he thought it was certainly loud enough to rupture an eardrum, it stopped.

Tony lurched, falling hard backwards onto the hard ground.

Ground, not bed. He reached out, but Peter wasn’t there. The weight at his side was gone, the emptiness constricting at his chest.

When he opened his eyes, it wasn’t Peter’s ceiling he was looking at, but sky, orange and endless. Familiar red dust surrounded him. He could feel the soft grains under his fingers as he sat up, burning at his skin.

Peter was gone. Peter… had never been back.

His friends, the few surviving Avengers, were slumped on the ground surrounding him. He rolled Steve over, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the other man’s eyes half-lidded and glowing red.

The others were the same. Rhodey, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Clint—they were all trapped in whatever dreamworld they’d been stuck in.

The red… The reality stone.

None of it had been real. Months spent being happy and… and having Peter back… none of it was real.

No no no no no no

It… no…

Peter was dead. He was still dead. Tony had failed him, and what’s worse, he actually wished he hadn’t woken up. It wasn’t fair to the real Peter, who was still dead and gone, but he was tired, and all his grief was rushing back, even worse. He felt like he was drowning. Maybe, maybe if he closed his eyes he could go back.

But the stone wasn’t here. He’d broken out of its hold and there was no going back. He was awake now.

He was the survivor again.

Tony Stark had never felt this alone.