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Peter limped through the tulips, the sharp wind from the jet tugging at his clothes. The wound on his temple tugged as he squinted against the sharp wind, head pulsing. His body ached from where the train had collided with him, and his mind had never felt as fragile as it did right now.
Was this real? Or just another trick?
The jet landed, the ground rumbling under as it touched down and Peter kept pushing himself closer, every part of him screaming in pain. He wanted to believe that this was real. That the call with Happy had been the truth. Everything Mysterio had shown had felt real too.
Peter started to slow as the stairs of the plane unfolded, unease coursing through him, and a figure stepped out of the jet. Peter paused at the familiar sight, heart rabbiting in his chest.
“Peter?”
No, this wasn’t right.
“Underooos? Are you okay. What happened?”
Tony Stark descended the stairs, signature sunglasses perched on his face. He hit the bottom of the stairs, stepping out onto the field of tulips. He made his way towards Peter, strides long and sure.
“No, no, stop. STOP! STOP RIGHT THERE!” Peter yelled, panic flooding his system, holding out his hands.
This wasn’t real. Because Tony Stark was dead. He had died. Peter had seen. He was sure he had…. Had he died? Was that another trick that Mysterio had conjured to mess with Peter. How could he forget the death of Tony Stark? How could he forget the miracle of Tony Stark living? How the hell was he supposed to know what was real or not.
Tony stopped in his tracks, slowly pulling off his sunglasses. “Peter? What’s going on?”
“You’re dead,” Peter rasped out. “This isn’t real. I know it’s not.”
Tony expression shattered. “Kid. Peter. I’m real. I’m alive. See. Look.”
Tony held up his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his blazer. In the sunlight, red and gold flashed at Peter. It was a new arm, in the colours of the Ironman suit. Had Peter helped build that? Or was that simply another one of Mysterio’s tricks. Tony couldn’t have survived the snap. Though, if anyone could it would be Tony.
“No,” Peter shook his head. “No, it’s not real.” Peter’s grief had been real. It had been.
“Boss?” Happy Hogan appeared at the top of the jet. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong, Happy,” Tony said, not taking his gaze off Peter. “Kid, I promise, it’s really me and Happy.”
“Prove it,” Peter said. “Tell me something only you would know.”
“Okay. Something only I would know,” Tony nodded. “We can do that. The first time you came to the lab, you met DUM-E and spent half an hour letting him make you a smoothie that was filled with motor oil and you drank it so you wouldn’t hurt his feelings.” Tony’s lips quirked. “You nearly gave me a heart attack when you said it didn’t taste that bad.”
Peter sucked in a sharp breath.
Happy had come down the stairs, joining Tony in the field. “We went to Germany together. You ordered a pay-per view to your room. They didn’t list the titles but I could tell by the price that it was an adult film-“
“Okay, okay, okay, it’s you, it’s you, stop, stop, stop,” Peter said, limping forward, relief rushing through him in waves. It was them. It was really them.
Tony and Happy slowly started moving forward.
Relief had Peter’s knees buckling as he limped towards Tony and then he threw himself at the man who had become his father.
The genius caught him easily, holding him tightly.
“You’re real,” Peter breathed, tucking his face into Tony’s neck.
“I’m real,” Tony said, holding him tight, his voice rumbling through Peter’s chest. “I’m here and I’ve got you.”
Peter trembled in Tony’s grip, the adrenalin leaving his body. Tony was really here. He was alive.
“Happy, let’s go,” Tony said.
Peter heard Happy moving away and he clung to Tony tighter.
“Come on, kid. Let’s get you on the jet,” Tony said.
Shifting, Tony wrapped his metal arm around Peter’s waist, shifting Peter’s arm around his neck. He helped Peter limp towards the jet, half carrying him up the stairs.
The jet was large and warm as Peter limped inside. Tony directed him to the closest chair, gently guided him down. Peter trembled in the plush seat, gazing at Tony through unshed tears.
Without a word, Tony pulled out a med kit from nearby and kneeled in front of Peter. The jet rumbled underneath them as it lifted into the air, the Netherlands growing smaller and smaller below them as they rose fast.
Tony’s hands were gently as he carefully started to wipe away at the blood on Peter’s face. Peter sniffed, leaning into Tony’s touch as he carefully cupped Peter’s face. The steel cool of Tony’s new fingers grounded Peter in the moment. This was real.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Tony asked carefully. “How did you get these wounds?”
“I got hit by a train,” Peter mumbled, exhausted as the events caught up with him.
Tony’s hand froze on Peter’s face, and he could hear Tony’s teeth grinding together.
“A train?”
Peter made a low noise in his throat. “Must have been an express. It was going pretty fast.”
Tony made a sharp noise before he continued cleaning Peter’s wounds. “Tell me everything. Form the beginning.”
Peter blinked at Tony with wide, wet eyes. “I guess it started on my trip to Europe.” And then he told his story.
Tony was silent as Peter explained his trip, how he had come across Mysterio and how Peter had thought he was the good guy, but it turned out that he wasn’t. That all he had wanted was revenge against Tony.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Tony asked.
Peter sniffed. “I couldn’t remember if you were alive or not. I didn’t know what was real?”
“Oh kid,” Tony said, opening his arms.
Peter fell into them, head colliding with Tony’s shoulder.
Tony held him tightly, a hand rubbing up and down his back. “I’m sorry you had to go through with this. I never should have let this happen to you.”
“It’s not your fault,” Peter mumbled.
Tony sighed. “You’re too good for this world, Peter.”
“M’not,” Peter said. “I messed up.”
“No. You have done amazing, kid. I’m so proud of you,” Tony said firmly, gently pulling back so he could look Peter in the eye. “The toll he has taken on you, mentally. I’m going to make sure he can’t do that to anyone ever again.”
“I can help,” Peter said, firmly.
“You need to rest, kid,” Tony said.
Peter shook his head. “No. He came after me. He used you against me. I’m not letting you fight him alone. This is my mess and I need to fix it.”
Tony jaw twitched but he gave a small nod. “Okay then. We’ll stop him, together.”
Peter gave a small smile. “Together.”
“But first,” Tony said. “You need rest and something to eat. And a new suit. In that order.”
Peter let out a small laugh, his first one since he started his trip to Europe. “Okay.”
“I’m really proud of you, kid,” Tony said.
“I’m really glad you’re alive,” Peter said, eyes searching over Tony’s face. “It…it really sucked when he made me think that you had died. Really sucked.”
“You can’t get rid of me,” Tony said. “I’m going to be grounding you well into your forties.”
Peter snorted, heart fluttering in his chest. “I can’t wait.”
Tony climbed to his feet, gently carding his hand through Peter’s curls. “I’m going to get you something to eat.”
Peter watched as Tony moved about the jet, relief coursing through him. He didn’t want to live in a world where Tony wasn’t alive. When Mysterio had been taken care of, Peter was going to make sure that he made more moments with Tony and take advantage of the fact that Tony was still here. He would make sure that Mysterio would know that he had failed in taking Tony Stark away from the world.