Chapter Text
TONY
Every pour on Peter’s face is defined. Like looking at someone in high definition.
Each line; around his mouth, above his eyebrows, beside his eyes; every place he would one day have wrinkles -because he will. Damn him, Peter Parker will live long enough to have wrinkles- shone like a very good quality picture.
Peter says something, something that sounds like a sorry, and Tony wants to tell him that there’s nothing he should ever be sorry for again, but it’s too late.
Tony can feel the body he’s been leaning against getting hollow, falling apart. Peter’s jaw sets as the cracking splinters journey up his neck and overtake the line of his chin -and all too fast he’s gone, his eyes leaving Tony’s as he floats off into the wind on a breeze Tony doesn’t feel.
Tony’s hand slams through what once was the spider emblem he designed, Peter’s chest, and smacks against rock; sliding on dust that didn’t escape with the wind and sticking to his hand, tacky with his own dried blood.
He stares at it, cradles it with his other fingers to his jaw, feels the heat of a setting sun, and wonders if this is how all the parents of kids he failed to save over the years felt.
And in that moment, he decides he’s never really been a hero.
-
Tony gets up after a while, once the ache low in his abdomen becomes unbearable and Friday has chirped in his nano-housing compartment one too many times to ignore.
He stares at the place Peter was for another minute, still holding his hand, and then tries to wipe the rest of the clinging dust off as something stings low in his throat and high in his nose. He rubs at his palm with his thumb and scrubs with an edge of his sweatshirt. The Blue Woman, the only other one left, watches him from where she’s sat, forearms balanced on her flared out knees.
“He did it.” She says, something haunted lines her tone, something that makes him want to shiver. She doesn’t say anything after that.
Tony let's his now rubbed-red hand fall from his grip.
When you can do the things that I can, and you don’t, and then the bad things happen… they happen because of you.
Tony should have- they almost had it off. They almost had it- Peter’s-
“Why did you tell him.” Tony doesn’t ask, and he doesn’t look at her, just stares at the expense of rock he watched Peter turn to dust against. “You couldn’t have waited?”
“I thought he would be smart enough to wait.” Her eyes are vacant, her voice something monotone.
“You- he blew it, for all of us. Not just himself, but everyone, everywhere. You couldn’t have waited?” His voice is raising, something prickles at the corners of his eyes, his abdomen screams with every shift of his weight. “Five minutes. We needed five minutes-”
“I’m sorry.” She says finally making eye contact with him, “I made a mistake.”
Tony feels a pang in his ribs, something in her look reminding him of scolding The Kid, who just turned to dust in his arms, on a rooftop.
“Just get in the ship.” He says. “We need to regroup on Earth.” He sets his jaw, and firmly tears his eyes away from the small pile of dust laying in the dip of a rock, wiping his hands as he walks towards the dead groups ship.
-
PETER
Something tastes off. The air, maybe. His own saliva, maybe.
There’s a hand on his shoulder, his head is pillowed on someone’s thigh.
For a second he expects Tony to lean over him, hold his face, cradle his head, tell him ‘everything’s fine. You’re alright.’
He can hear the words echoing around his skull, filling the space behind his eyes with a thick hot tar that pushes out his waterline in the form of burning tears.
His suit helmet is down, everything is bright, and everything has an orange tint.
“They’re moving.” Someone- The Wizard, that’s The Wizard’s voice. Strange. His name was Strange- says.
“The Spider is awake.” The woman he’s laid up against mutters, her voice is like bells, ringing above him.
The Wizard hums. “Peter, right?”
Peter nods, trying to sit up, surprised when nothing hurts. “What happened?” He tries to shake the gross taste from his mouth and the cotton feeling in his brain away. It doesn’t work.
“We’ve been moved over a plane of existence.” Strange says simply, like that explains anything. He sighs at Peter’s blank stare and scrunched forehead. “More like a reality,” he mends,
“imagine there are two sheets of paper, one above the other. We have been shifted over a sheet, creating a type of…” He visibly searches for an adequate word, “bubble, yes, that works, a bubble between our worlds. Thanos has created the illusion that we are gone, but he’s merely hidden us from the senses.”
“So, we’re not dead?” Peter asks, cautiously. He looks over his shoulder to find Mr. Stark walking past The Blue Woman.
“To them? Yes. To each other? No.” Strange answers cripticly. “Stark is planning on getting back to Earth using The Guardian's ship. We should follow.”
“What about your yellow sparkly thing?” Peter asks, doing the motion with his own hands, “can’t we get home that way?”
Strange looks at him quizzically, then down at his hands, like he forgot about something.
Strange raises his hand to eye level, holds it flat, and watches it for a moment. He clenches it into a fist and back to lie flat. “Magic still works here. It didn’t in the realities I foresaw.”
Peter’s eyebrows press together. “So the yellow sparkly thing?”
“Will in theory work.” Strange finishes. “Perhaps he was careless.”
Peter shrugs, “I say we try it.”
Strange holds out two fingers, then circles his hand around it.
Yellow and orange sparks follow in the wake of his second hand, opening to a New York Street Peter recognizes from patrol.
“That’s really cool.” Peter blinks, squinting against the bright of the portal against the almost gone sunlight. “So we can all get home?”
He hears rocks shift from behind him, so he looks over his shoulder again. The Blue Woman is standing now. Eyes laser focused on the crackling gold in front of Peter.
“Human.” She says, not turning to address Mr. Stark. He doesn’t turn, so she says louder. “Human. Look.”
Mr. Stark turns, and his eyes widen.
-
TONY
The Wizard isn’t dead.
Peter. Peter. Peter.
“Strange?” Tony asks, he’s walking fast towards the glowing circle. It disperses after a moment. Tony’s stomach aches. “Strange?”
There’s another portal, this one bigger, showing off the Cauldron of The Cosmos Tony had been leaning against, a time that felt like a hundred years ago.
“Come on.” He says to The Blue Woman, “we should go.”
She follows without complaint.
The entry room makes his foot steps echo, moments later the portal fades out. Tony is standing with The Blue Woman -he should really learn her name- in the high sun of the early afternoon shining in though the broken window.
“Ok, I’m gonna ask a really stupid question.” He says to the air around himself. “But what the fuck is happening?"
There are sirens in the street, people are yelling for each other, horns are honking, he thinks he hears an alarm going off somewhere distant.
“He did it.” The Blue Woman says again. “One half of the universe, dead.”
There’s a slam somewhere to the right, Tony glaces over just in time to see the red hot band disappear into the air.
“I don’t think so.” Tony says, still staring at the air where the whip faded. “Strange, that you?”
Another slam.
“Ok. Alright. Let's try this;” Tony tries not to let the hope pooling in his abdomen show in his voice. “One hit yes, two hits no.”
The band flizzles to light and wacks into the tile.
“Are you alone?” Peter. Peter. Peter.
The band -whip? Is it a whip?- slams twice.
“Is everyone who disappeared with you?”
One slam.
“Peter.” Tony whispers. “Is Peter with you?”
Another slam.
Tony lets out a little noise. “Shit. You have a phone in here?”
-
PETER
Strange slams his whip twice, then calls up another portal.
“What are you doing?” Peter asks.
“Cutting out the middle man.” Strange answers, “he doesn’t need a phone, he needs Rogers.”
“Is that what you saw?” Peter watches Tony step through the portal, followed by the woman he can see. “In the other universes? Is that what you saw?” He watches The Guardian's climb though the sparkling circle.
“Yes and no.” Strange answers. “It’s complicated.”
“Then… uh… explain it?”
Strange casts him A Look, rolls his eyes and blows a hanging piece of hair from his forehead. “I saw him team up with Rogers, and the others, but years from now. In every instance it was years from now and we were either here or nowhere.”
“So this is different.” Peter brushes his own overgrown hair from his eyes. “This isn’t what you saw.”
“No.” Strange says.
“So does that mean we’ll lose?”
Strange looks over at him, from the corner of his eyes. They follow The Grey Man -Dray? Drax?- through the portal. “I’m none too sure.”
Peter doesn’t know what to say to that, just follows Strange into the stainless steel of the room the portal opens out into.
The room is empty aside from what Peter’s calling The Space Club, Tony at the helm, still clutching his abdomen, where he was stabbed.
The sun is low in the sky here, telling Peter they’re somewhere near Europe, maybe Africa.
“Where the fuck are we, Strange.” Mr. Stark mutters.
“One second, Stark.” Strange says, despite the fact that he can’t be heard.
There’s an alarm over head, Mr. Stark flinches, and Strange grins.
-
TONY
Pardon his french, but what the fuck.
His knowledge of timezones tells him they’re somewhere far from New York, and his knowledge of alarms is telling him that they are certainly not welcome here. The Blue Woman is suddenly on guard, leaned over and holding two long swords in hand. Tony has no weapons, so he side-steps behind her.
There’s rattling, maybe of armor, and then the door slides open; and before them stands the Princess of Wakanda, accompanied by several very shaken guards.
“Oh. It’s Iron Man.” She looks confused, and a little underwhelmed. “Little late.”
“I was fighting Thanos on another planet, so I think I get a tardy slip, at most.” He snarks, but his brows are pressed together. “Maybe a slap on the wrist- hey. Here’s a thought. What the hell happened, down here?”
The Blue Woman seems satisfied that this isn’t a threat, and drops her arms; standing straight.
Princess Shuri’s arms, clad in some large cannon-panter shaped things from her elbows down, drop to her sides, her head angles off. “We lost.”
“Hell yeah we did.” Tony mutters. “I got stabbed, by the way. You have a medic to spare? I’ll trade valuable information for drugs.”
She gestures with her arm. “This way.”
Her makeup (is it makeup? Face paint? It’s pretty.) is smudged under the eyes. She falls into step beside him, her guards stand in front of them. “What happened on your end?” She asks. Her eyes trained on him, probably desperate for information. Probably looking for the quickest way to fix this.
“We had Thanos. Almost got the gauntlet off.” He shrugs, “he killed- uh a guy who was with us, Thanos killed his girlfriend. So he freaked out and tried to beat him up. I don’t know, I probably would have reacted the same way, to be honest. Thanos woke up outta the trance we had him in, and the rest…” He closes his eyes, cracks his knuckles, opens his eyes because he’s walking, and says, “Strange, The Wizard --Sorcerer --whatever, he traded the Time Stone to Thaons.”
Shuri’s eyebrows press, she squints at him. “What could be worth an Infinity Stone?”
Tony looks down, watching the tiles pass below his feet. “Me, apparently.”
Her gaze hardens, then softens when he meets it. She nods, once. Understanding shone in her eyes.
“They’re alive.” He says, “I know it’s insane, after what we saw, but Thanos was wrong. They’re alive- they can tell you themselves… I just- I just need a doctor.” He sumbles, his ears ring. “Shit.”
Shuri grabs him under the arm.
“Friday, status?” He asks his chest.
“Nanobots-seething was not designed to last so long, Boss. You are now losing blood.” Her voice sounds worried. Distant, maybe.
“I should… I should update that.”
“Yes, Boss.” Friday says, worry laced in her tone.
Tony snorts, turning to The Princess. “Let's walk faster, yeah?”
Shuri nods.
-
PETER
Mr. Stark is half unconscious when they lay him on a cot. Strange stands, worried, beside him.
“Is that Groot?” The man who hit Thanos with his gun -Star... something- asks. “Holy shit, it is- Rocket!”
“I am Groot!”
… Is that a tree? And a racoon?
Holy shit. That is a racoon, talking to Thor. Mayhaps Peter needs a nap.
He turns his attention back to Mr. Stark, now being fitted with an oxygen mask. Someone is pulling at his shirt, another person cutting it open. The girl with panther-gauntlets instructs Friday to remove the nano-bots. They crawl back, covered in blood, and collect themselves in a neat pile on the bed beside Mr. Stark.
“He needs stitches.” Strange says under his breath, “it may have nicked something major. They need to check.”
“Dr. Strange-” Peter starts.
“Why aren’t they checking.” Strange asks, “I gave up my duty to save this… arrogant, dickhead of a man, and they can’t even check him for significant--”
“Dr. Strange!” Peter interrupts, “Maybe we should step outside...”
Stange steps back, ignoring Peter, and slams his whip once into the floor.
The few that noticed focus in.
He slams it again.
Peter grabs his hand and holds it in the air before Stange can slam it again.
“Let them focus.”
“They need to focus harder, damn it.” Strange glowers, ripping his wrist from Peter’s grasp. Peter lets it go as a kindness.
“I heard Stark was here.” Comes a voice, one Peter’s heard time and time again in detention. He turns to see Captain America.
“This Joke.” Strange mutters, waving Captain America off and continuing his tense-jawed glaring.
“What happened?” He asks, “is he ok?”
“Only family.” a man dressed in purple scrubs says, pushing Captain America’s chest. The tall, broad shouldered man looks offended, taken aback, but the nurse pushes him again, and he stumbles from the room. “Fucking super heros.”
Princess Shuri nods in agreement. Peter hangs beside her, watching as they wheel Mr. Stark away.
“We need a way to talk to them.” He says to Strange, who stares in the direction they pushed Mr. Stark. “We need to tell them we’re here. You heard the noise in the city. People are going crazy.”
Strange nods. “Once Stark is stitched up.”
Peter nods.
-
TONY
“Tony?” It’s Rhodey’s voice. Next to him. Above him. “Tones?”
“Mmm’p.” Tony mumbles, cracking his eye open. “I’mm’p. I’m up.” He moans as he tries to sit up. “Ow.”
“Lay down.” Rhodey pushes his chest. Tony looks down at his body, he’s wearing a grey and red hospital gown.
“Peter. Strange. Where are they?” He blinks his eyes again, rubbing at his nose. “Peter!”
There’s a fizzle, a band of orange and yellow sparks to life and slams into the ground.
“He’s with you?” Tony asks, glancing over.
The rope slams once more.
“Good.”
Rhodey has an deep line pressed above his nose bridge. “What the fuck?”
“They aren’t dead. None of them.” Tony explains, somewhat manic. “Right, Strange?”
Another slam.
“See?”
“How does that…?”
“He’s a wizard. He does it in fights.” Tony explains, waving off Rhodey’s questioning. “Any idea on how we can talk, Strange?”
One more slam.
“Really?”
Another slam, Rhodey’s stopped flinching, now.
-
PETER
“Really?” Peter parrots. “How?”
“Astral projection, or, a form of it. You and I are going to astral project into his mindscape, we’ll be in his vision.”
“You can do that?”
“It’ll be hard.” Strange says, ever cryptic. “But it can be done.”
“How do we do it?” Peter asks.
Strange slams his whip again, then creates a portal.
“Strange?” Mr. Stark asks, “you ok?”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Reassure him that he’s not insane. Here, sit down.” Strange sits, the cloak lifts off of his shoulders and floats by Mr. Stark. “Take my hands-- yes, like that.”
Peter takes both of his hands clasped together like lego hands, not intertwined fingers. They’re both sat criss-cross-apple-sause.
“Now concentrate on your breathing. Nothing else. In and out.”
Peter clears his throat, straightens his back, and clears his mind- or tries to. It’s hard with the spidey sense, alerting him at every shift.
It’s basically just hyper-active anxiety.
“Peter. Breathe. Think about your breathing.” Strange mutters, his voice a deep rumble. Peter squints his eye open to see Strange’s head bowed, strands of hair floating on a breeze Peter doesn’t feel. “In and out. For Stark.”
And Peter’s mind is blank.
When he opens his eyes Strange is still holding his hands, they’re floated above their bodies. Strange lets his feet fall back down below him.
Peter squeals, clutching Strange's hands tighter.
“You’re alright. Keep in contact with me, I’m keeping you here.” Strange instructs.
“Holy shit.” Tony says, and Peter and him lock eyes.
-
TONY
“Mr. Stark!” The Kid’s eyes are wide, a smile grows on his face, a stark contrast to how Tony last saw him. And The Kid is floating.
“Peter… How…?”
“Tone?” Rhodey asks, “You ok, Man?”
“You’re not gonna fucking beleive me, Honeybear, but I swear to god there’s a Wizard and a Dead Kid floating a few feet that way.” He glances over to Rhodey, who startles, falling back.
“Holy shit!” Rhodey exclaims, then leans forward and grabs Tony’s face. “Tony, one of your eyes is orange- like orange. Like the whole thing. What the fuck.”
“That’s us.” Strange explains. “I apologize. Being connected like this may take a toll on your physical body, but there’s no way around it.”
“It’s them.” Tony explains to Rhodey. “So I can see them, I guess. Peter? Kid.” Tony tears his face out of Rhodey’s grip. “You alright?”
“I’m good.” Peter says, “really, sorry I got a little dusty-”
“Never apologize to me again.” Tony snaps, “you hear me? Oh shit- May. I need to call May.”
“Please.” Peter nods.
“I’m getting half of this.” Rhodey’s brows are raised, he leans back in his chair with a mask of calm. “Literally half.”
“You’re like that kid from that really old movie.” Peter says, he spins a little in the air, still criss crossed, his legs floating upward. “You know the one--” Peter throws on a haunted expression and whispers, “I see dead people.”
“What did I say about pop culture references, Young Man?” Tony glares, but he can’t keep the smile from his face; who knew it could feel so good to scold people. Especially dead people.
“You’re serious, right now.” Rhodey asks, an eyebrow raised, “you can hear them, see them?”
“Not all of them. Just The Wizard and Peter, right?” He turns back to his slightly transparent -and a little floaty- orange tinted ghosts.
“We’re doing a form of astral projection. So yes, only us. But there are others. Hundreds on this floor alone.” Strange explains, jaw set and raised. “More outside. I’ve sent The Guardian's out to calm as many as they can.” He looks over to Peter, breaking his composed manner with an eye roll and a sigh, tugging The Kids arm. “Get down from there.”
“He doesn’t listen to anyone.” Tony rolls his… eye… and crosses his arms over his chest. “He’s the most disobedient little createn- hey!--”
Peter’s feet touch down beside Strange- and The Little Shit grins.
“Do you have like, cookies or something? He doesn’t listen to me. Ever.”
“I’m not a dog, Mr. Stark.”
“You’re a poorly trained shih-tzu that likes to piss on my Louboutin’s; that’s what you are.”
“Does that count as a pop culture reference? Because I think you broke The Rule.”
“Oh my god. Enough of your bicking.” Strange groans, eyes squinted shut and hand flying out in a ‘stop’ gesture. “I’ve had enough for a millenia. Call in The Princess.”
“Strange is asking for Princess Shuri.” Tony says, turning to Rhodey, “can you…?”
“Yeah. Alright. Your ghost buddy tells you to get The Princess, last remaining claim to the Wakandan Throne, so I’ll do that.”
“Thanks, Platypus.”
Rhodey looks… exacerbated, tired of Tony’s shit, taken aback. “Dude- no. Tones, think about this. How do you even know-”
“I don’t know.” Tony says, jaw clenched. “Rhodey, I don’t know, but fuck if I’m not gonna try- I thought he was dead, The Kid. I thought I lost The Kid. And now he’s…” Tony looks over to Peter, who is frozen in place, forehead wrinkled in concern. “He’s right there, Rhodey. So no, I don’t know. But I gotta believe.” His eyes are back on Rhodey. “Because if I don’t believe, then he’s dying in my arms again…” His voice trails off, jaw falling slack, edges softening, “and we lost. To the guy that’s been in my head for six. Years. I need to try.”
Rhodey sets his jaw, closes his eyes, uncrosses his arms to push off his thighs, and stands with the whirr of his braces. “If evil ghosts kill us all, I get to murder you.” He doesn’t wait for Tony’s retort before walking out of the room.
“He called you guys evil.” Tony says, pouting. “You’re not evil, right?”
“No, Stark.” Strange says, annoyed. But Tony can hear something else, something fond, on the edge of his tone. “Not evil.”
-
There are people in his room. Lots of them. More than he asked for, to be honest. He signed up for Rhodey and Princess Shuri- and there is Nat, Bruce, Thor, a fucking racoon (he TALKS), and Rogers standing in a horseshoe around his bed.
Peter informs him that The Guardians have brought and introduced him to a talking tree, so maybe the racoon isn’t the weirdest- no. no, the racoon is weird. Tony wins. Tony; 1, Pete; 0.
“They talk to you?” Princess Shuri asks, “you can see them?”
“I can only see two of them.” Tony explains, for maybe the third time. “Dr. Strange and Spidey. They’re being an intermedium between the two groups. Your brother is in here, by the way. Strange says that he says hi.”
Shuri nods, her eyes glassy. “Can they hear us?”
Peter nods, hand still held in Strange’s, and sits on Tony’s bed- well, above. “He can. We can hear and see, but we can’t interact.”
Tony voices that.
“So all he did was move them over?” Natasha asks, the first Avenger- Un-Avenger? Ex-Avenger?- to speak up.
“That’s what Strange says.” Tony answers. “And he had control of an Infinity Stone for years, so I vote we believe him.”
“So, in theory, we could just move them back?” Bruce asks, “because that seems too simple.”
“That’s the problem.” Tony says, “it’s the stones, they’re with-“
“Thanos.” Nat finishes. Shaking her head. “And we lost against him already, now we have half of our army, one of our strongest players in the adjacent dimension, and the other one benched with a stab wound.”
“I’m honored. Touched, even.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She squints.
Princess Shuri speaks, cutting off Natasha’s glare. “Why did he give up the time stone for you? It seems like had he not, this could have all been avoided, and we could have taken down Thanos before he was able to manipulate time to his will.”
Strange swallows, heavy. Jaw eternally clenched.
“That’s what I was due to yell at you about, Strange! I thought there was something-”
“Stark-”
“No. No. You gave him that stone. That was our one advantage, and you gave it away-”
“If I hadn't he would have killed you.” Strange cuts in. “He would have killed you, and every chance we would have had would be lost. So forgive me for thinking long term, here.”
“There had to have been another way-”
“There was no other way, Tony.” The voice cuts through the confused quiet around them like a hot knife. “You’re our advantage. He would have killed you.”
“Nahh. No.” Tony shakes his head. “Ya’see, Strange, that doesn’t compute, ok? That’s not how this works.” Tony’s gesturing with his words. “That’s not how this was meant to go. You don’t trade the most powerful fucking thing we have for me, because I’m not worth a stone that turns back time.”
“You are how we kill him.” Strange argues, “in every universe we get close, it’s you.”
“I only drew a drop of blood.” Tony has a clenched jaw and wide, angry eyes. “Hours of fighting, my entire suit destroyed, and I gave him a razor nick. So no, Strange. That was not a fair trade. Me. For that stone? No.”
“Can’t you just accept that you’re the hero? I thought your ego would be stoked-”
“My ego shattered when The Kid died in my arms--”
“I couldn’t watch you die. Not again. I’ve lived through hundreds-” Strange closes his eyes, mending his words, “millions of realities. One after the other. And in each you die. All but one- and this isn’t it. But it’s not one of the ones where we lost, either. So I’m willing to sculpt a new reality, with you holding the reins; because, Stark, as much as you can be a pain in my ass, you are this reality’s only hope.”
Tony shakes his head again. “That’s not how this works, Wizard.”
“Well, too bad.” Strange says, “Because this is how it’s working.”
Tony sighs, bringing his hands up to rub his face.
“Did anyone get any of that?” Bruce mutters, “because I didn’t get any of it.”
“Seems to me like Mr. Tin Can took a little too much or the good stuff, if you know what I mean.”
“Maybe I did, because I’m hallucinating a walking, talking build-a-bear.”
“Why you-” The racoon pulls a knife from his boot, Thor lets out a booming laugh, scooping Rocket up and placing him on his shoulder.
“No weaponry in the hospital, Rabbit.”
“Yes weapons in the hospital, Dumbass.”
“I hate my life.” Bruce mutters, dropping his head to Thor’s bicep. The racoon pats him on the head.
“Join the club, Buddy.”
“I’ve been in the club for too long.” Bruce groans.
“I like clubs, we should make a club.” Thor adds. “Banner, want to be in my club?”
Nat rubs at her eyes, Rogers looks like he might pop a blood vessel.
“We’re going to step outside.” Bruce says, pushing Thor back, “so you guys can discuss serious things. I’ll keep the murderous racoon occupied.”
Thor bounds out the door with Bruce, less enthusiastic, at his heels.
Tony’s the first to speak. “What happened to them, by the way. First time I’ve seen Thor in- what, six years? Bruce in five?”
“They’ve been in space, apparently.” Nat fills in cooly. “As have other people, such as yourself. What happened, up there, other than the dusting?”
“We fought Thanos. Almost got the gauntlet, off. But he moved. End of story.”
“I heard a lot just now about a stone.” Rhodey prompts, “care to explain?”
Tony sighs, eyes closed and lips pressed to a thin line. “Strange traded the Time Stone so that I could live, and now he’s saying it’s the only way we win the next fight.” He opens his eyes to see Peter smiling at him sadly, one hand overlapping his. It leaves pins and needles in the thin skin over his knuckles.
“What do you mean?” Nat asks, “the only way we win the next fight?”
“He scanned some universes when he had the time zones. A couple thousand alternate futures—“
“Fourteen million, Douchebag.”
“Right, sorry, fourteen million alternative futures, and he says that in every one we got close it was me.” He nods his head a little to the left, then rubs a hand through his hair to scratch the indent of his skull. “Which I can’t believe. Because surely a stone that controls time would be more useful that a guy that just got stabbed.”
“You’re Iron Man, Mr. Stark.” Peter’s eyebrows are pressed firmly together, his face screwed up in an expression that radiates ‘no duh’, he’s seen it on his own face in pictures.
“I might be Iron Man? But I’m just a human, Kid-“
“Hell yeah you’re just a human! You’re a genius. And a hero. And there’s no one else I would choose to save my ghostly ass.”
“Peter, language.” Tony glares.
“You say worse, Mr. Stark.”
“Ohhh I’m never introducing you to Rhodey. Or Pepper. And you know what? I was gonna let you geek out over Nat to me later but now I’m not so sure—"
“What? No, sorry. I’m a perfect angel who never swears. Tell her I think she’s fantastic.”
Tony turns to Natasha with a sigh. “Spidey thinks you’re amazing.”
“Thank you, Spider-Man.” Natasha looks amused, if it’s fake he can’t tell. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her blonde hair is artfully tasseled. “You’re rather interesting, too.”
“Woah.” Peter giggles. “Nose bleed.”
Strange sighs.
“Right, business-"
“I heard you were feeling better.” There’s The Blue Woman, standing beside his door. “I had to see for myself.”
“I am feeling better.” Tony nods, “they have the good drugs here.”
“I’m… glad.” She has her eternally stone face pressed still.
“Don’t think I ever caught your name?” Tony asks.
“Nebula. I was A Child Of Thanos. I would like to further help your rebellion against him. Would that be ok?”
Tony doesn’t wait for a confirmation from Rogers to accept her request. “Sure. Peter would love to have you in the… What was it called, Kid?”
“The Space Club.”
“The Space Club. You would make a fine addition. Come on in.”
“Cool.” Peter murmurs, “she’s got katanas, Mr. Stark.”
“Yes she does, Kid.” Tony nods, smiling, “yes she does.”
---