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The Living, The Dead, And The Ones In-Between

Chapter 4

Notes:

Should I even bother to write anything in here after that last cliffhanger?

I'll do it anyway because I wanna thank lantaniel again for making the beautiful art pieces for this, and I wanna thank ghostly-blues as well for beta-reading.

And now: grab your tissues and enjoy the final chapter! :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

At 10 AM sharp the next morning, Tony sends down the private elevator under the pretense of some excuse of a test run to pick up Peter. But when the elevator comes back up and the doors open, it’s empty.

Immediately, Tony begins to worry.

He pulls up footage from the surveillance cameras, only to remember that Peter doesn’t show up on those. The worry grows, gnawing on his insides as he tries to convince himself that he didn’t just lose the astral projecting form of a teenager. Maybe Peter is just late. Maybe he got held up by something. Maybe he got distracted. The kid is easily distractible.

So, Tony waits a few minutes and sends the elevator up again, pretending like he isn’t counting the seconds until the doors open once more.

And once more, it’s empty.

His left arm starts aching and Tony absentmindedly starts massaging his wrist to ease the pain away as he actively tries to not picture the worst-case scenario (it’s a habit he developed after being kidnapped, because if you’re already prepared for the absolute worst, nothing can surprise you). The worst-case scenario which would be… what exactly? Peter is back in his body? Peter decided not to stop by anymore? He actually had been a hallucination the entire time?

Shaking his head, Tony takes deep breaths. No need to jump the gun. There has to be a logical explanation for all of this. “FRIDAY, send the elevator down again in five minutes.”

Boss,” the AI answers, sounding slightly hesitant, “the other two test runs performed perfectly. There is no need for-”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, I was giving you a command,” Tony snaps, immediately regretting his harsh tone towards her but unable to stop himself.

The silence from his AI doesn’t help his nerves as he impatiently waits for the five minutes to pass. He pulls up a holo-screen to watch the elevator descend down and rise up again.

Tony holds his breath as the doors open.

It’s empty.

He’s on his feet before he can twice about it, entering the elevator in a few long strides. “Bring me down,” he says. FRIDAY doesn’t answer him, but the doors close and the elevator starts moving. Tony is somewhat aware that he has to apologize for his words at some point, but he can do that after he finds out what’s going on.

A part of him hoped that Peter would jump out of a hiding place as soon as the doors open, screaming BOO! or whatever, laughing as he celebrates his successful prank. But that doesn’t happen. Tony looks around the small, inconspicuous room that is the entry to their private elevator, but there’s not a single clue about what might’ve happened.

The panic that Tony tried to push down for so long spreads with an impressive speed through his body. Something is definitely not right. He knew he shouldn’t have let Petter wander back to the hospital on his own! That kid clearly attracts trouble like a magnet!

For a second, Tony thinks about searching the entire Stark Tower in the hopes of Peter wanting to sneak a look at some of the labs, but he knows that it would only be a waste of time. For one, Peter has already seen the labs when Tony gave him a little tour of the tower, pretending to check on his employees, and on the other hand, they can’t really keep up with Tony’s personal lab, no matter that they’re still so much better than the labs of his biggest competitors.

No, the Stark Tower isn’t the right place to look for the kid.

“To the garage,” he says as he steps back into the elevator. “And calculate the fastest route to the hospital for me.”

“If you are unwell, I would recommend calling an ambulance instead of driving yourself.”

“I don’t need an ambulance, I’m not unwell.”

“Your increased heart rate suggests something else.”

“An ambulance won’t fix it,” he snarks back. More silence from his AI. He sighs. “I’m sorry, FRIDAY. I am. But I really need you to give me the fastest route to the hospital in Queens I’ve been visiting the past few weeks.”

“Of course.” She pauses. “Boss, I do believe that you should inform Miss Potts or Colonel Rhodes about Project Ghost Boy. I have noticed a change in your behavior since you started that project, and I am positive that they noticed it as well.”

“A change?” Tony asks, stepping out of the elevator and into the garage, grabbing the first keys he can get his hands on and sliding into the car. “What kind of change?”

“A positive change. You seem more relaxed. You smile more. You laugh more. Your overall health has increased.”

For a moment, Tony halts in his panic. He doesn’t know what to do with the information FRIDAY just dumped on him. Of course, he noticed himself that he’s started feeling more and more relaxed over the past weeks ever since Peter practically moved into his lab. He just never thought other people would pick up on it.

And now he can’t find Peter.

With his panic rising anew, Tony starts the car, revs the engine, and drives off.

He makes it to the hospital in record time, thanks to ignoring at least 60% of all traffic laws. When he spends almost five minutes finding a free parking lot, Tony is this close to just letting his car stay in the middle of the road and having to deal with it being towed and the resulting fees. It’s been a long while since he’s actually been to Peter’s hospital room and for a second, he actually doubts his sometimes not-so-trusty memory to find the right room – but maybe that was just the panic inside him trying to reel him up even more, showing him all the possible ways he could fail.

Knocking at the door he thinks – hopes – is Peter’s, Tony waits a second if someone answers in before he slips inside, eager to not only solve this mystery but also get away from the busy hallway, seeing as he’s only wearing the old baseball cap that he has for emergencies in his glove box. As soon as he sees that there are two people in the room, he strangely feels like collapsing.

Because those two people are exactly the same – one Peter lying in the bed as unmoving as the first time Tony saw him, and other Peter sitting on the windowsill, knees pulled up to his chest and his head barely peeking up when he sees Tony.

Peter isn’t dead.

Tony can stop having constant heart attacks.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, pulling his eyebrows together in confusion.

Pushing the part of him aside that wants to yell at Peter for scaring him like that, Tony gives him a smile that’s probably a lot more shaky than he likes to admit. “The one and only.”

Something’s wrong. It’s not only the fact that Peter didn’t come back to the tower, but it’s entire demeanor, still and unmoving and silent and lost in his thoughts in an unsettling way, which are all things Tony has never associated with the kid. Even when he was missing having a body or communicating with his family and friends, he’s never been like this.

Peter still looks at him like he doesn’t know why he’s here. Tony takes a few steps forward. “I thought we had a playdate. 10 AM by the private elevator, remember?”

Immediately, Peter’s eyes grow three times their sizes and he lets go of his knees, sitting up a bit straighter. “Shit, I completely forgot about that! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Tony calms him down, ignoring the strange urge to remind him not to swear. “No harm done.” He waves his hand around the air dismissively, as if he hasn’t spent the better part of the last hour panicking and growing at least twelve new grey hairs. There are more important things to discuss. “Everything okay?”

“What?”

“Did something happen? Something that caused you to forget about meeting up?”

When Peter shakes his head, Tony knows immediately that it’s a lie. “No, nothing happened.” Tony is already trying to find the best way to gently pry the truth out of him when Peter freezes up. His eyes drop to his knees, shoulders pulled up to his ears. “Actually… that’s not true.”

Because he doesn’t offer any further explanation, Tony slowly moves next to him, leaning against the windowsill. He would prefer to have the conversation somewhere else, preferably somewhere where no one could barge in and question Tony’s presence here, but it looks like that is out of question. “What happened?”

Again, Peter takes his time to answer the question, and when he eventually does speak, his voice barely raises above a whisper. “I saw my parents.”

“That’s… good,” Tony says, trying to hide his confusion.

It didn’t escape him that the kid’s basically never mentioned his parents, only talking about the aunt and uncle he lives with. More than a couple of times, he thought about asking Peter about them, but he’d never really worked up the courage to actually do it. Sure, he could’ve hacked into a few government servers to find the answers he’s looking for, but he – strangely – wants to respect Peter’s privacy. Tony just assumed that Peter doesn’t live with them because of some work thing. Hearing that they apparently finally put their work aside to come visit their son relaxes Tony. Not everyone should have the kind of relationship with their parents that he had.

However, Peter’s reaction makes him think that this isn’t the end of the story.

Peter huffs out a humorless puff of air. “No, not really.”

“Why?”

“Because they died almost ten years ago.”

It feels like someone punched the air out of Tony’s lungs.

That detail is very important. And now he understands why Peter is behaving like this. Thoughts race through Tony’s head as he tries to put them in some sort of order. Next to him, Peter is as stiff as a board, eyes still burning holes into his knees. Tony needs to say something, but he doesn’t know what. That one sentence simultaneously answered and created so many questions. Tony’s burning to ask them all, to try to figure it out, but not a single one slips over his lips.

Peter doesn’t need more questions, he’s smart enough to come up with them himself. No, he needs emotional support to process what happened and what it could mean – and Tony absolutely doesn’t feel equipped to be that support. The reasons why should be more than obvious.

But the truth is that neither of them can be really picky about it right now.

“What exactly happened?” Tony eventually asks, hyper aware of the words coming out of his mouth, afraid to say something wrong.

The kid doesn’t answer immediately. “When I came back yesterday, there was some light in my room and I heard some voices. I couldn’t really understand them, but then I went into the room and-” Peter stops, his breath hitching in his throat. For a second, Tony wonders how he would react to suddenly seeing his dead parents in front of him.

Blinking the tears out of his eyes, Peter clears his throat, obviously trying to keep his voice steady. “It had been them, I’m absolutely sure of it.”

“Did they say something to you?”

He shakes his head. “No. They disappeared only seconds after I got here. There was this blinding white light and when I opened my eyes again, they were gone.”

Silence stretches between them, but not for long because the question that’s burning on Peter’s mind is also troubling Tony. Mostly because he doesn’t know the answer to it.

“Mr. Stark, because I could see them, does that mean I’m- … I’m about to-”

“No,” he quickly interrupts him, keeping his voice as strong and stern as he can manage. “No, it doesn’t. It wasn’t a death omen or something.”

Peter looks at him with big eyes. “How do you know that?”

Yeah, how does Tony know that? Other than him wishing it to be true so badly. Because even thinking about a scenario where Peter doesn’t wake up is too painful, stealing the breath right out of his lungs and clenching his heart with a tight grip. If anyone would’ve told him two months ago that he would get so attached to a kid who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space, he would’ve declared them insane. And yet here he is, desperately trying to find an answer that isn’t because I don’t want it to be.

Luckily, Tony has a lot of practice with improvising and bullshitting his way through conversations. And he keeps a log of Peter’s vitals.

“Because nothing changed,” he persists, faking the confidence he needs right now. Pulling out his phone, he opens the app he created to keep up with Peter’s symptoms and developments. “See? All your vitals, your brain activity, they’re all the same. There’s absolutely no indication that you’re doing any worse.”

Peter takes a look at the phone, but Tony can see that he doesn’t believe it. He can’t really blame him. There are stories about people practically dying right on the spot with no indication whatsoever. Besides, what if this is the first symptom that something is wrong?

Peter needs more than a few numbers on a screen.

Fortunately, Tony has more.

He takes a second to ground himself, ignoring his racing heart and the slight nausea that is climbing up his throat. “I was able to touch you.”

Tony knows he should’ve told Peter about this the second that it happened or the second that followed that second. He didn’t, though. Why? Well, Tony can’t really say himself. Maybe because he doesn’t have any answers to why it happened, maybe because he didn’t want to disturb their little world they created in the lab – whatever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. Peter needs to know.

Immediately, the kid’s head snaps up, his eyes flying over Tony’s face. “What?”

“It was a few days ago, back in the lab when I showed you that project proposal.”

“I didn’t feel you touching me.”

“Well, I wasn’t touching you exactly, but your hood.”

Something flashes across Peter’s face and Tony begins to fear that the kid will ignore this massive development, but when he opens his mouth, he says something Tony never could have predicted. “I was able to do that, too.”

“You were what?”

“Touch you.” Tony can do nothing but blink at him as Peter lowers his eyes to his own hands. “When you came in the lab and had that nightmare about Afghanistan. I tried to wake you up and automatically touched your shoulder, but instead of my hand phasing through it, I could actually touch you.”

Tony’s thoughts jump back to that night, to the horror he felt when he realized that Peter witnessed one of his weaker moments, and to the vulnerability when the words just kept tumbling out of his mouth. His memory is a bit fuzzy on the details, but if he remembers correctly, the kid had been kind of stiff when he talked to him. Back then, he pushed it onto the topic of the conversation they were having … but what if that wasn’t the case?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony asks and, yes, he does realize that it’s pretty hypocritical of him to ask that question.

Judging by the way his eyes jump to him, Peter knows that, too. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

For a second, the urge to argue that it’s not the same comes up in Tony, but he quickly pushes it aside. They don’t have time for that, not as long as Peter still has that haunted look in his eyes.

“The whole touching thing is good,” he says, putting the confidence back in his words. “That we can touch each other means something.”

“Nothing changed,” Peter parrots Tony’s own words back to him. “You said it yourself. Everything is still the same.”

“That’s… different.”

“How is it different?”

“Because it has to be!” Tony jumps up from the windowsill, running a hand down his face. It’s difficult to be confident when a genius teenager uses your own words to blow holes in your defense.

Peter just stares at him and, while he’s keeping his mouth shut, every thought that’s running through his head is perfectly visible through his eyes. And Tony doesn’t like those thoughts. He can’t allow Peter to lose hope.

“I promised you that I will fix this,” he says, stopping right in front of Peter and kneeling down to his level, “and that’s what I’ll do. I will get you back into your body, Peter. Whatever it takes.”

“You’ve been trying that for months.”

“And I will keep trying for years if I have to.”

“And what if I don’t have that long?” Peter’s voice breaks and tears start welling up in his eyes. However, he isn’t looking away, putting Tony through watching all of the kid’s fear and heartbreak and desperation wash across his face. “My body hasn’t changed yet, but what if it does? How long will it be before the doctors decide that it’s not worth keeping me here? How long until May and Ben can’t afford it anymore?”

“I’ll pay for it,” Tony immediately says.

“They won’t let you. They don’t take charity.”

“I’m pretty sure they’ll be a little more open about taking money if the life of their nephew is on the line.” From all the stories Peter’s told him about his aunt and uncle, Tony is sure that they won’t put their pride over Peter’s life. And if the hospital is trying to flip the switch on any of the machines, Tony will simply transfer him to a private hospital, hire the best doctors in the world to work on it, put all his money in it, maybe even give that arrogant neurosurgeon who copied his beard a call – thinking about it, he should’ve done all of that as soon as he decided to take on this mystery.

Peter isn’t convinced, simply shaking his head and looking to the side. Tony wants to reach out and take his hand, praying that it might work, that they could touch each other again and therefore give the kid some hope – but what if it doesn’t work? Giving Peter even the slightest sliver of doubt is the last thing Tony wants right now, and he can’t risk it.

He sets his hand next to Peter’s on the windowsill. “Just give me a bit more time,” Tony asks – no, Tony begs. The desperation in his voice clearly classifies this as begging. “I will find a way to get you back into your body, and, yes, I maybe sorta lost track of what we’ve been trying to do over the last few weeks, but I will solve this. Trust me, Peter, please. I only need some more time.”

Tony half expects Peter to say no. Most of the time when Tony begs for more time (which doesn’t happen often, but it does happen), he doesn’t get it, which leads to him needing to improvise. In his mind, he’s already half-forming a plan of practically kidnapping Peter’s body – he’s not sure why, but it’s the first thought that jumps forward.

However, to his immense relief, Peter simply nods. “Okay.”

Tony feels how the weight of a mountain lift off his shoulders. At least this means that Peter hasn’t given up yet.

Right?


Tony is really trying to find a solution, Peter has to give him that. The second they enter the lab, he orders FRIDAY to start the movie playlist before diving into finding the answer to what happens after you die. He barely eats or sleeps, like he can’t be bothered with such mundane things that are essential for human beings (Pepper has to come and literally drag him out of his lab to sleep, already given up on getting him to eat anywhere but his lab). There’s not a single thing he’s not looking into, be it a religious or spiritual theory or just some insane idea from reddit. Using his fame and influence, he talks to experts who are booked out months in advance, discussing their theories and asking questions so specific, a lot of them don’t know how to answer. It’s one of the most fascinating things to see Tony dive into mad-scientist-mode, processing so much information at once and coming up with new theories so fast that your head starts spinning.

It’s a crime that Peter can’t enjoy it.

Since they left the hospital three days ago (at least Peter thinks it has been three days, but time is acting quite weird right now), he’s been feeling weird. Not something-is-happening-to-my-body-weird, but more of a tired weirdness. He feels heavy and he can barely concentrate on the movies playing for him non-stop. There’s a part of him that wants to help Tony and get lost in his research marathon, that wants to solve this mystery, but Peter feels strangely unmotivated.

Then, there’s the heartache. Seeing the ghost of your parents is traumatic on so many levels. For one: they’re ghosts – at least, that’s the only fitting word Peter can think of. And don’t forget about all the implications of him being closer to being dead than alive.

Last but not least, he missed them. They’re his parents and they died years ago! Even if they didn’t talk to him and even if he only saw them for a few seconds, it’s enough to make his heart ache with every single breath he takes. No matter how tough Peter tries to act around Tony to get him to stop seeing him as a helpless child, he’s still just a kid. Every kid wants their parents.

And now he’s in this weird situation where he’s presented with a way to see them again but it would cost him everything. Except Peter isn’t even sure if that’s true, because he doesn’t know if he will even get everything back. What if they don’t find a way to wake him up? What if they waste all this time and money and attention on it and it doesn’t work out? Wouldn’t it be better to just cut to the chase and move on? To not bother other people with his problem?

With a shaky sigh, Peter presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, pretending he can stop those torturous thoughts from driving him mad. Trying his best to distract himself, he brings his focus back on the screen, but for the first time in his life, Star Wars doesn’t manage to hold his attention. Luckily, there’s a different distraction.

Craning his head over the back of the couch, he looks over to where Tony is working, an endless stream of words coming out of his mouth, some orders for FRIDAY, others thoughts he needs to say out loud. Peter had stopped listening to Tony less than an hour after their arrival, unable to muster the energy to concentrate on it, so he’s quite surprised when he sees the genius’ current theory.

“You think the Flying Spaghetti Monster did this to me?”

“Maybe,” Tony answers without looking up from whatever he’s reading on his tablet, absentmindedly tapping away on his holo-screens. “Did you claim that zoodles are the superior type of pasta or something?”

“I would never be so disrespectful.” Tony snorts, but Peter can tell that he’s not really listening. His eyes drift back to the monster made out of noodles. “You really think that’s possible?”

Something must’ve been evident in Peter’s voice, because Tony pauses and looks over to him. Peter can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but he doesn’t like it. It makes him feel like a little kid who needs comforting. (Which is absolutely true, he just doesn’t want to admit it.)

“Do I think a flying food monster in the sky is the reason that you’re astral projecting? No.” Peter is relieved and disappointed at the same time. On one hand, it means Tony hasn’t lost his mind. On the other one, it means that they’re nowhere closer to finding a solution. “But sometimes you get your best ideas while looking at other stuff.”

Which translates to Tony reached a dead-end. Again. How many more until he gives up? Until he realizes that there’s nothing he can do? That it’s pointless?

“Hey, no, don’t give me that look.” Peter drags his eyes back to Tony, who’s pointing a finger at him. There’s an air of desperation around him. “We’re not quitting. We will solve this. Say it.”

“Okay.”

“No, say that we will solve this.”

“We will solve this,” Peter mutters, sounding as defeated as he feels. We isn’t even right, he’s doing nothing helpful, just moping around. And yet he can’t find it in himself to get up and help Tony look, even though it’s his mess.

Tony is still looking at him with something that looks way too much like pity to make Peter comfortable. He doesn’t want pity, he wants a solution for this, no matter the outcome. “Peter-”

“It’s fine,” he says and turns back around, waving a hand through the air dismissively. “You’re right. You’ll figure it out. You promised. So, no need to think about anything different.”

For a second, Peter thinks – maybe even hopes – that Tony will object, but that doesn’t happen. “That’s right. I will figure it out. After all, I promised.”

Peter doesn’t answer, fighting the tears welling up in his eyes and trying his best to just watch the movie. After a heartbeat, Tony goes back to tapping away on his tablet and talking to FRIDAY, working on his never-ending list of theories.

Tiredness starts creeping into his body, turning his limbs to lead and making his thoughts fuzzy. The sounds from the movie turn into white noises, coaxing him closer and closer to sleep. The only thing keeping him afloat is Tony’s voice, the deep rumble of it demanding his attention. Peter is distantly aware that he should say something. He never felt like this before, so tired and weak and… almost human. Like he’s been pulled away into the dream world.

(Or being pulled away to somewhere else.)

He tries to open his mouth and form words, but it’s impossible. His consciousness is already slipping away, his eyelids slide shut, and he falls into the darkness.


“This actually seems real,” Tony mumbles, swiping through the reports he found about a group of monks in Kathmandu, Nepal, who claim to have regular out-of-body-experiences. They also claim they can do magic with some glowing mandalas around their hands, which is, you know, insane, but the reports are the biggest lead Tony found since he started all of this. “Kid, take a look at this.”

He doesn’t get an answer.

“Pete?”

Still no answer.

Looking away from the holo-screens and turning around to face the little movie corner he made, he expects to catch Peter reenacting a movie scene again. He notices two things immediately. One, there’s not an action movie playing on the screen, instead some comedy special. And two, Peter isn’t there.

A very bad feeling starts spreading through his chest all the way from the tips of his hair to his toes.

“Peter?” Jumping up from his chair, Tony hurries over to the couch, thinking (hoping, praying) that Peter maybe just laid down, getting more comfortable or whatever. But when he rounds the corner, there’s nothing on the couch except a few pillows.

Did he go somewhere? But where? It’s not like he would need to go to the bathroom or the kitchen or somewhere else. Still, Tony checks the storage room, because what if Peter decided to snoop around, bored of watching movies?

The storage room is filled with interesting stuff, but none of it is the projected soul of a teenage boy.

Panic starts filling Tony’s brain. “FRIDAY, where’s-” He stops. FRIDAY can’t help him, she can’t detect Peter.

Or can she?

“What were you asking, boss?”

“I need you to locate the little cluster of electricity we scanned a couple of weeks ago.”

The AI pauses for a second – a second that feels like an eternity in which Tony’s brain provides him with all the worst-case-scenarios he can come up with. “Why?”

“Because I told you to,” he snaps, all his patience replaced by worry. “Why are you starting to question all my orders all of a sudden?”

“You have been exhibiting strange behavior for the last few weeks. I am simply worried for your health.”

“My health is fine.” Unlike someone else’s. “And now do it or I’m gonna replace you with Alexa.”

If Tony wasn’t so mad with worry right now, he’d apologize to his loyal AI, but he can’t find it in himself to care about that right now. He can fix this after he makes sure Peter isn’t- … That he’s still-… God, he can’t even think about it, it hurts too much!

When FRIDAY speaks up again, her voice sounds a bit more robotic. “I could not locate the cluster of electricity in your laboratory.”

“Search the entire building.”

“My sensors and programming do not allow me to follow that command.”

A part of Tony wants to demand that she do it nevertheless, but he keeps his mouth shut. FRIDAY is right, her programming doesn’t allow her to look for Peter anywhere but here and it would take Tony hours to fix that. Hours that he might not have.

And he has this very ominous feeling that he already knows where he has to look for Peter.

Grabbing everything he needs, Tony dashes towards the elevator, impatiently waiting for the doors to open – only to almost run into Pepper when she’s about to step out of it. “Tony? What-”

“Can’t talk right now, gotta go,” he mumbles, wiggling past her and rapidly pressing the button to close the doors.

Pepper grabs onto the doors, keeping them open. “No, we need to talk.”

“Pepper, I really can’t talk right now. There’s something I need to do.”

“Does it have to do with why you’ve been living inside the lab the past few days?”

“Yes, but I just-”

“Is it Project Ghost Boy?”

Tony freezes, every single thought in his racing mind coming to a screeching stop as a cold shiver runs down his spine. His wide eyes jump up to her unreadable face, a hard mask she usually reserves for business negotiations. How did she find out? What does she know? Could her knowing be the reason why Peter isn’t here right now? Was he so absorbed in his research that he missed some crucial development?

Pepper’s face slightly softens, no doubt seeing the panic in Tony’s eyes. “I saw the file during a routine check up on the biggest projects. Couldn’t open it, though.”

When Tony made Pepper CEO, he gave her complete and total access to everything related to the company. For one, she needs it to run SI properly, and on the other hand, Tony trusts her completely, simple as that. The only reason she has restricted access to the arc reactor files is a security measure, so no one could get to it by getting her access codes – a security measure Pepper insisted on herself. Other than that, she can always see what Tony is doing (which is why he keeps the ring he bought in a place FRIDAY’s eyes can’t reach and the sales contract for the little property outside of the city with the lake only existing on actual paper, not in any digital form).

When he created Project Ghost Boy, he made sure that no one could access the files, but he didn’t think about Pepper being able to see it.

“Tony, what is going on?” she asks, her voice now full of concern. “You’ve been acting strange. And I don’t just mean these past few days, but the past months. Ever since Happy had his surgery.”

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out of it. There’s still the very urgent, burning need to check up on Peter in the hospital, but he knows Pepper won’t let this go. He’s brushed her off too many times in the past for her to give up when she’s concerned. “Pep, everything is fine, I promise. Nothing is going on.”

“Why are you looking into life after death?”

For a second, he thinks about asking her how she knows that, but disregards that question. She must’ve seen the list of people he talked to, must’ve seen what was on his screens when she dragged his ass out of the lab. All of that combined with a sudden change in his behavior in the last few weeks? Yeah, he can’t really blame her for being worried, and if he would have the time, he would explain everything to her.

But he doesn’t have time.

“Pep-”

“Don’t Pep me!” she all but screams, too worried to keep her composure. “After the palladium poisoning, you swore to me to tell me when something is going on!”

“And I will, but-”

“Then where are you going?”

Tony winces, knowing Pepper won’t like his answer at all. “The hospital.” Immediately, her eyes darken. “But not because of me!”

“Tony, I swear-”

“I promised someone I would help him,” he blurts out, the pressure of running out of time and Pepper being angry at him making him ramble, “and I want to keep that promise. I need to keep it! Because if I can’t-” He doesn’t want to think about what happens if he can’t keep that promise. “Honey, I will explain everything when it’s over, okay? But right now, I need to go.”

Pepper’s eyes jump over his face, searching for any indication of a lie or a joke or something, and even though it can’t be more than a few seconds, it feels like ages until she finally nods. “Alright. I’ll wait.”

Pressing a quick kiss against Pepper’s knuckles as she takes her hand from the doors, Tony isn’t granted a lot of time to celebrate this little success before the panic settles back in. Every single second feels like an eternity as he moves down to the garage and gets into the first car he reaches, not really caring if it’s subtle or not. His driving on the way to the hospital is more than reckless (the only reason why he doesn’t get into an accident is because the other drivers pay attention) and he expects at least three tickets for the way he parks the car in front of the hospital.

Of course, Tony doesn’t care about any of it. What’s a parking ticket compared to losing Peter?

Without his disguise, he races through the corridors and up the stairs, drawing quite some attention to himself for several reasons, but again: he doesn’t care. Tony is only slowing down once he reaches Peter’s level, knowing the nurses will ask questions about him visiting a patient he technically doesn’t know. Luckily, the nurse not too far from Peter’s room is busy, talking to someone on the phone, and the billionaire can slip into the room unnoticed.

He feels how his heart sinks and how relief floods through his veins at the same time. There are not two Peters greeting him, just the boy’s body in the bed, as still and unmoving as all the other times Tony saw him – but his vitals haven’t changed. Not dead, then. Tony still has a chance to fix this.

“Peter,” he calls out, crossing the space between them in two long strides. “Hey, kiddo. It’s me.”

No response.

Tony reaches out, lying a hand against his shoulder and shaking it. “What’s all this, huh? Are you trying to prank me? You should know better than that. I’m unprankable.” Again, he’s only met with silence. To stop his other hand from shaking, he balls it into a tight fist. “I need you to give me a sign, okay? Anything that you can hear me.”

Nothing. No Peter jumping out of a wall or floating through the bed or the vase full of bright flowers falling from the desk or an ominous breeze – just nothing.

Banishing all the bad thoughts from his mind, Tony continues. “You can’t give up, not now. Not ever, you hear me? It’s not allowed.” He moves the hand from Peter’s shoulder to his cheek. “I found something. Some monks in Nepal who do this all the time. Well, that’s what they say, at least, they also say they can do real magic. But that’s a lot better than an angry pasta monster, right? So, we have to give it a shot. You can’t quit now, Peter.” 

With every nanosecond that passes without Peter opening his eyes, it gets more and more difficult to ignore the panic. Desperation seeps into Tony’s blood and desperation always makes him ramble. “Peter, please, you can’t- There’s so much stuff you still have to do! We have to work on those sticky webs of yours! We didn’t get them quite right the first time around and if you wanna get the Nobel prize for them, we need to work out those kinks. And we need to play a real game of chess without me cheating. And… And you said you would watch all those Disney movies with me that I never heard of, remember? You can’t back-out of that promise right now, kiddo, I won’t let you.”

Still nothing.

Something tightens around Tony’s chest.

“Will bribery work?” he asks, aware that his voice is starting to shake. “What do you want, huh? An internship? Done. In a heartbeat. I mean, I’m so used to having you in my lab, it would be weird without you there. Or is this just a ploy to get me to stop making all those Instagram posts? I tell you what: if you wake up right now, I vow to only post stuff you deem not cringy or whatever you want to call it. Is that what you want?”

Tears are starting to burn in his eyes as Tony realizes that he’s running out of options. He can’t make those monks magically appear here, and even if he could fly Peter to Nepal, it would take hours – hours they might not have.

“This isn’t fair.” Tony isn’t quite sure who he’s talking to. Peter, himself, some god, a food monster; they’re all at fault here. “You hear me? It’s not fair. You literally flew into my life out of nowhere and now you’re just gonna leave like this? Without a goodbye? Where are your manners, kid? You apologized to DUM-E for walking through him even though he literally didn’t notice it. And now after months of binge-watching every movie possible in my lab and of making these corny puns and coming up with so many brilliant ideas you just-”

He can’t get the words out. It’s too painful.

Tony never saw himself as a father. For many reasons, to be honest, his own father being at the top of the list, followed by all of his past mistakes and his unhealthy behaviors. He barely manages to take care of himself, how is he supposed to take care of someone so fragile and completely dependent on him?

But then Peter happened and… it’s not like Tony suddenly thinks he would be the best father in the world. Or even a good father. Or a functioning one. But the boy managed to pull on his heartstrings and make him want to try. For Peter – even though he doesn’t need a father, he’s got his uncle Ben, but he wants to be someone Peter can rely on, who he would ask for advice and help and comfort. But most importantly: he wants Peter to be part of his life. And Tony wants to be part of his life.

“Please,” Tony whispers, his voice too shaky to raise even a bit higher. “Please come back, Peter.”

The door opens and Tony almost falls from the bed as he turns around, coming face to face with who he knows are May and Ben Parker.

“What are you doing in here?” May Parker asks, sounding less than pleased.


When Peter opens his eyes, he doesn’t panic. Which is weird, because when you fall asleep in the lab of your life-long idol and wake up in a white, blinding nothingness, you should panic. But he doesn’t. To be honest, Peter is more worried about the fact that he’s so calm than any of the other stuff.

Maybe it’s because he’s been expecting this to happen for three months now. Well, maybe not this exactly, because he has no idea what this even is.

“Uh, hello?” he says loudly (kind of expecting to hear an echo, but it doesn’t come), turning around in a circle. “Am I supposed to wait? Like, is someone picking me up? Or should I just…” He waves his hand around the nothingness, “find my own way?”

No answer.

“Rude,” he mutters but starts walking anyway.

Peter doesn’t know what he’s looking for. There’s supposed to be more, right? A good or a bad more? Or is this eternal life? Just walking around in a completely white space?

He would’ve preferred the pasta monster. That would’ve been more fun.

Pretty fast, he loses his sense of time – but after what feels like a while, something finally happens. It starts with soft noises, too muddled and smashed together to make out any details and coming out of no particular direction. Before Peter can decide where to go next, the noise swells up at a rapid speed, eventually sending a strong vibration through his entire body and building up pressure right behind his ears.

And then, with a soft pop, the pressure is gone and Peter is standing in Central Park. Not the real Central Park, of course, but a version from his memory. The noises around him get more distinct, turning into laughter and giggles and car noises and leaves rustling in the wind, occasionally almost sounding like words. Peter thinks he can make out his own name a couple of times, but it might be his imagination. There are blurry people at the edge of his vision, but as soon as he turns his head towards him, they’re gone.

The only people in focus are a man, a woman and a boy sitting a couple of yards away from him on a picnic blanket, laughing and eating sandwiches and fruit. Peter can taste the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the sweet soft drink and the juicy fruit as his heart aches. It doesn’t really surprise Peter that whoever is in charge of this chose this memory – it’s one of his favorite ones of his parents, only two months before their plane crash.

He notices a movement out of the corner of his eye. This time as he turns his head, the figures don’t disappear and he stares at the smiling faces of Mary and Richard Parker. “Hey, bug.”

“Hi,” Peter somehow manages to croak out, tears welling up in his eyes at the familiar nickname.

“Come here,” Mary says, opening her arms. Immediately, he jumps forward, throwing himself at her with probably too much force, but he doesn’t care. It’s been months since he could hug anyone, it’s been years since he hugged his mother, and he feels like crying – so that’s what Peter does. As Richard joins the hug, rivers of tears stream down his cheeks and sobs rip out of his throat, filling the otherwise idle scene around them with sorrow.

“I missed you so much,” Peter hiccups eventually, leaning back far enough to look his parents in the eyes but never letting go of them.

“We missed you, too,” Mary answers and presses a kiss against his forehead. “So much.” Richard wipes away some tears with his thumb, his own eyes wet as well.

Peter sniffs. There’s a very important question he has to ask, no matter how much he wants to stay in this moment. “Am I… Am I-”

“No,” Richard shakes his head. “No, you’re still alive.”

“I can feel a but coming.”

Mary smiles, running a hand through his curls. “You’re at a crossroads, Peter. Not dead but not really alive either.”

“Like Harry Potter? When he dies?”

“Harry dies?” Richard asks, eyes growing bigger and bigger as Peter gives him a sheepish smile. His father was a Harry Potter fan, just starting to read the books to Peter as soon as he was old enough to understand it, and they died just a few weeks before the last book was published.

Mary throws her husband a look before turning back to Peter. “The point is that you can choose what to do next.”

“I don’t even know why this is happening,” Peter says to distract himself from the task he’s just been given. “Does this happen to everyone who’s in a coma?” If so, why has he never heard about this before? Will he forget everything that happened to him if once he wakes up? Will he forget spending two months with Tony? Will Tony forget about it, too?

The whispers of the leaves sound like his name again, almost panicked.

“We can’t speak for everyone, but when you were shot-”

“Wait, did you, like, see that?”

“We always keep an eye on you, bug.”

Peter can’t help but grimace. “Even on the embarrassing stuff?”

Richard’s smile widens. “Especially on the embarrassing stuff.”

“My dear darling husband, you’re not helping,” Mary chides, her voice fake-strained but a twinkle in her eyes. God, Peter missed them. “As I was saying: When you were shot, you held a lot of regret and guilt which is what kept you in this state.”

Immediately, Peter knows what that is.

“I’m not your son! I never was and never will be, so stop pretending this is anything but a makeshift solution until I’m eighteen! God, I wish I just would’ve died with them, because at least then I would be with people who want me!”

Ever since he remembered his last conversation with May and Ben, not a day went by where he didn’t think about it. Not one word of that had been true, but Peter had been angry and he wanted to hurt them, wanted to lash out and rage – now, it seems like the most idiotic thing he’s ever done. He can’t even put into words how wrong all of that was and he feels so much shame that he spat those lies in their faces.

Apparently, it’s also enough shame and guilt that instead of dealing with facing them, his consciousness decided to fly around to avoid the issue.

“What should I do?” Peter asks. His voice breaks and every trace of humor vanishes from his parents’ faces. Quickly, he wipes away the tears from his face. “I mean, if I go back, will I actually wake up in my body or will I just… float around again? And what if I get shot again only a few days later and really die? Or if I get sick? Or-Or if something else happens? How will I know that everything will be alright?”

“We don’t know the answer to that.”

“But you’re my parents. You told me parents always know everything.”

“Yeah, that was a lie.”

Despite all of the turmoil in his chest, Peter manages half a laugh as Richard throws an arm around his shoulder, pressing his head against the crook of his neck. Peter allows himself a moment to wallow in the comfort of this. A thought crosses his mind. “We could stay like this forever.”

There’s a shift in the atmosphere. Richard stiffens a little bit and Mary drops a kiss against his temple. “Bug-”

His mother’s voice pierces through Peter’s heart. “You don’t want me here.”

“Don’t be silly. We would love to stay here with you forever.”

“But,” Richard says, stretching the word long enough until Peter glances up to him, “what kind of parents would we be if we told you to choose this?”

“I hate it when you make sense,” Peter mumbles, because joking about this is easier than facing what it means.

Of course, Mary sees right through it. She’s always been able to do that, be it Peter hiding a bad day at kindergarten or that he took the last cookie. Cupping his face in her hands, she presses another kiss to his forehead. “I know you’re scared, Peter. And that’s okay. But I promise you that whatever lies in front of you will be worth it. We know you will have such a wonderful life.”

“And we can’t wait to hear all about it when we meet again,” Richard adds, ruffling Peter’s curls.

Peter closes his eyes.

“I don’t wanna go.”


“What are you doing here?” May Parker repeats because Tony is still too stunned to say anything.

He can’t tell them the truth, they wouldn’t believe him. So, he has to improvise.

Pepper says he’s absolutely terrible at improvising.

Tony disagrees, some of his best ideas have been improvised.

However, none of that is helping him right now.

“I’m here to help,” Tony says, slipping off the bed and holding up his hands in a – hopefully – peaceful gesture.

“How do you know my nephew?” Ben asks, blocking almost the entire doorway with his broad frame.

“That’s… kinda hard to explain.”

“Humor me.”

“Well… when I say astral projecting, do you-”

“I’m not doing this,” May whispers, shaking her head. “Leave now or I’ll have them call security. Or I’ll kick you out of here personally.”

“And she totally can. She took kick-boxing classes,” Ben adds, equal parts proud and serious.

Somehow, that would’ve been very helpful information Peter could’ve shared. But Tony doesn’t have the time to dwell on it – he can deal with all of that once he’s sure that Peter is actually still here to wrongly prioritize information.

Completely aware that he’s going to sound insane, Tony starts talking anyway. “I’ve been talking to Peter for the last two months. He’s been living in my lab for almost just as long.” May is already out of the door, probably calling someone to drag him out of here, so he places all his hopes on Ben. “I know it sounds crazy, okay? It is! But Peter – his… his soul or consciousness or whatever you wanna call it, he vanished and I got this terrible feeling that that isn’t a good sign. I tried talking to him, maybe guide him back here or whatever, but I don’t think our connection is strong enough or that.”

“You do realize that that sounds like the movie plot of a bad rom-com, right?” Ben asks, crossing his arms over the chest.

“Yes, and if we had the time, I’d make a ton of bad jokes about it, but we don’t.” May’s voice is getting louder again. Ben still doesn’t believe him. Looks like he has to pull out the big guns now. “May can’t cook,” Tony blurs out, searching every tiny bit of his brain for any information Peter said that could help him right now, “which doesn’t stop her from trying. Peter watches sports games with you and you paint your faces and get a shit ton of snacks for it. He and his best friend Ted or Ned or something love to watch Star Wars together and they both wanna go to MIT, but Peter’s worried he’s not gonna get in there. Which is insane, because every school that rejects that genius over there deserves to go bankrupt.”

Tony could go on for hours, more and more little details racing through his head the more he talks. And it seems to work. The unbelieving look on Ben’s face slowly slips away, making space for a different kind of disbelief. Tony just hopes it’s a better one.

However, before he gets the chance to find out, May is back together with a nurse with a name tag that says Dominic.

“That’s him,” May says, pointing to Tony. “We don’t know him.”

Dominic hesitates. “You don’t know Tony Stark?”

May obviously isn’t in the mood for jokes. “He has no business being in here.”

“Just talk to him,” Tony continues, putting all his hopes on Ben being desperate enough to believe his crazy story, as he does his best to avoid Dominic’s hands trying to pull him out of the room. “Fun memories or-or… I don’t know, something! Anything! He needs something that reminds him of this world.”

“What are you-”

“May, c’mon,” Ben interrupts her, already by Peter’s side and beckoning May closer as Tony is dragged out of the room.

“Ben, you can’t seriously think-”

“What’s the worst that can happen? Isn’t it what we would’ve done anyway?”

Tony doesn’t catch the rest of their discussion because the nurse unfortunately manages to drag him out of the room. “Get your hands off me,” Tony growls, trying to shake his hands off, but Dominic holds on tight, pushing him down the hallway with a lot more force than he anticipated.

“We can’t let you just wander into a patient’s room. Especially if they’re a minor and they don’t know you.”

“But we do know each other.”

Dominic throws him a look that either says he thinks Tony is trying to pull a really tasteless prank or that he’s seriously lost his mind. (To be honest, Tony doesn’t blame him.) “His guardians don’t know you and can’t explain how you might know him.”

“If you would just let me-”

“Mr. Stark, just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean-”

“What, were you thinking I would bribe you? Would that actually work? Because if you give me a second, I can get my wallet out of my car and-”

“Of course, bribing me won’t work-”

“Hey!”

Tony and Dominic immediately stop and whirl around, looking back down the corridor to where Ben stands. Tears are shining in his eyes – and there’s a grin spread across his entire face.

Tony’s heart stops as he rips himself out of Dominic’s now lax grip and races back to the room, thoughts and feelings tumbling through his entire body so fast, it makes him dizzy. When he passes Ben, the man briefly squeezes his arm, his eyes saying everything he can’t put in words right now. Tony feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He didn’t do anything – he isn’t the reason Ben is so happy now.

Tony comes to a screeching halt once he’s inside the room, looking at the bed. May is sitting on it, crying and sobbing as she holds Peter in her arms, pressing one kiss after the other onto his head, and Peter … Peter is awake, smiling at Tony as he sees him standing by the door.

“Peter,” he breathes, feeling like a mountain has just been lifted from his shoulders and like his legs are about to give out any second. Somehow, he moves towards the bed.

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” the kid answers, voice hoarse from not using it for so long, but without a doubt the same voice that’s been filling Tony’s workshop for the past weeks.

Tony’s eyes start to burn. “So this is real, right? Not some shared illusion because I talked shit about a pasta monster?”

“It’s real,” Peter says and from this close up, Tony recognizes his tear-streaked, wet cheeks.

“Damn. And I already planned a trip to Nepal.”

“I mean, if you really wanna go to Nepal, I’m not saying no-”

Peter doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because May lets go of him and Tony takes the chance, leaping forward and all but crushing Peter in a hug. If he’s honest, Tony expects it to be weird; he’s not much of a hugger and this is the first time they’re really touching – but it’s not. It feels strangely right, like when a pulled muscle finally stops hurting and you can relax again.

“You scared the shit out of me, kiddo,” Tony whispers, feeling how his voice threatens to break away.

“That’s kinda my job.”

Tony can only laugh.


Two weeks later

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah, totally.”

Tony raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really? Is that why your voice just raised three octaves and you’re jumping around like you really need to go to the toilet?” Peter grimaces, mumbles I’ll be back in a second and races off towards the bathroom. Snorting and shaking his head, Tony makes his way to the living room where the first slide of the presentation fills the TV screen, a blank slide with two badly photoshopped Tony and Peter in each corner.

Soft chatter comes from everyone sitting on the couch. Rhodey and Ben are talking about the game from the night before, snacking on the (store-bought) cookies the Parkers brought with them, while May and Happy talk about their shared love for Downton Abbey. Tony sits down next to his girlfriend (soon-to-be fiancé, if everything goes according to plan next week), and presses a kiss against her cheek.

“Where’s Peter?” she asks, setting down her phone.

“One last trip to the bathroom before it starts,” Tony answers, getting himself one of the cookies.

“He’s always nervous before big presentations,” May throws in and rolls her eyes, fondly. “I swear he wouldn’t stop bouncing his leg the entire way up here, going over his flashcards again and again.” Luckily, May’s want to kick Tony’s ass has changed since Peter woke up – at least a little bit. Tony has to brush up on his most charming techniques to get on her good side, but it’s a challenge he accepted.

“I still can’t believe you made flashcards,” Pepper teases him. “You’ve never been this prepared for any of your meetings.”

“Well, don’t tell Peter, but my flash cards are actually just cue cards for you.” He takes the cards out of his pocket and turns them around, so they can see the laughter and aww and shocked gasp written on them. “He worked hard on some of those corny jokes, I wanna make sure you all have the right reaction to them.”

Since Peter woke up in his body and got released from the hospital only a couple of days later, a few things happened. The first one was Tony giving him the latest StarkPhone with his contact information already saved because he almost started crying when he saw the state of what Peter called his phone. The second one was giving Peter access to the Stark Tower and the penthouse as well as setting an internship contract down in front of him.

Tony once asked Peter about what happened before he woke up, but the kid clammed up and grew rigid. He took the hint and didn’t ask him again, hoping that Peter would share his experiences when he’s ready for it.

There’s one thing they can’t ignore, though: Explaining what happened.

And seeing as Peter enjoys making presentations for fun to explain the most random stuff, it wasn’t that difficult to choose what to do. Plus, Tony can always play this off as helping Peter with his school grades (and therefore get on May’s good side – it’s a twenty-three step plan).

When Peter comes into the living room, he doesn’t look any less nervous than a few moments ago. But seeing as the pack of cookies is already half-empty, they’ll either have to go to the store to get new ones or start the presentation.

“Ready?” Tony asks, handing him the little remote control as they go over to the TV screen.

“I’m not getting more ready the more you ask,” Peter says, looking a bit pale around the nose.

“Hey, kid, look at me.” Slowly, Peter drags his eyes up to him and is rewarded by a smile. “No matter what happens, it will be fine. You and me, we’re in this together. And I’m ready to do something totally embarrassing if you make a mistake to draw the attention away from you.”

The joke coaxes a small laugh out of Peter, and that’s good enough for Tony. Squeezing the kid’s shoulder once, he moves to the other side of the screen and pulls out the cue cards. Peter clears his throat, gripping his own flashing cards tight and throwing a nervous smile at their small audience. “Hi! My name is Peter and that is Tony,” Tony waves, “and tonight, we’re gonna tell you the story about how we’ve met.” Peter clicks on the remote and with a flashy animation, the words Project Ghost Boy appears on the slide. Tony subtly holds up the clapping card.

Notes:

Pro tip: Don't introduce new characters and a family dynamic this close to the end that almost makes you wanna change the endig. I swear I was this close because I liked the Parker's dynamic too much.

So, yeah, this is it! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And if you did, maybe leave me a comment or send me a message on tumblr! I would love to hear your thoughts!

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please leave some kudos, comments, or come talk to me over on tumblr :)