a/n: three years later! a rewrite of surprisingly a lot of people's favourite oneshot. it still makes no sense plot wise but nonetheless i hope u enjoy

⚠alcoholism, grief⚠

Day 22. His body was just as dilapidated as his heart. Thinning hair, weak muscles, his bones showing out from the skin. It cost everything to fall asleep, now, but he was exhausted. He just needed something, he needed—He needed Pep to know. He needed something to survive the trip back.

"Hey Ms. Potts. If you find this recording," Tony took a breath and leaned back on the wreckage of the ship. He was dizzy from the movement forward and exhaled with a heavy sigh. "Help post it on social media, it's gonna be a real tearjerker."

"I don't know if you're gonna see these," Tony admitted. "I don't know if you're still—"

Peter was ash on his hands. He was gone, whisked away in a fit of dust. Dying and dead in the span of a few seconds. Tony couldn't do a thing, it was too late— There was something words couldn't reach about the feeling one has of holding their child in their arms and it being all they can do.

"Oxygen will run out tomorrow morning, and then it'll be... it." Tony licked his lips and stared out into the endless nothingness. No planet or star in sight to put his place in the universe into perspective. He was as small and meaningless as you could be in the great void of space. "I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one."

"Please note, that when I drift off... I'm fine, I'm totally fine," he assured her, his tone remaining steady and clear. He had reached an acceptance, now. There was no need to tell Pepper he was dying a guilty man. This is how he imagined it, in the end. "I'll dream about you. Because it's always you."

Then everything was so bright. It was burning, it was like staring directly into the sun, and with his sunken-in eyes he assumed he was seeing some sort of miracle, or heaven, or the real end of all things. But instead the glow faded and some super-powered chick he'd never seen on the Avengers roster stared at him and narrowed her eyes. 

He wasn't fine.

It's been a month into his recovery, and while his body is gaining enough strength to stand on his own two feet, his mind is something else entirely. Shredded to shrapnel in all he'd seen, in all he couldn't do. Pepper is at his side every time she can be, but when she's gone, he keeps finding himself going back to old habits.

Nobody was doing well, though. It seemed like nothing when anybody would pop open a bottle and pour themselves a hefty glass. It was a temporary solution to a permanent problem, and Tony hated himself for it, but he didn't know what else to do.

It's a dark night. His head is exceptionally stormy, his skin feels like shards of ice and his head is full of cotton as he limps down the hallway to the elevator. He leaned against the steel wall and downed the glass in hand. 

"Ge'mme to the lab," he slurred. 

"Sir, protocol suggests that I call Ms. Potts and ignore your requests," F.R.I.D.A.Y. says knowingly. She sounded sad, but he was so drunk that he could have hallucinated it.

"Oh," Tony said dumbly. He tried to straighten his feet, then his shoulder ultimately fell back on the wall. He looked down at his glass and shook the ice around. "She's smart."

"Yes, sir."

"Is she— She's busy?"

"No, sir."

"Oh." Tony sniffed. "Okay."

"...Calling Ms. Potts," F.R.I.D.A.Y. finally said.

She arrived down the hallway before the elevator doors closed, and Tony suspected that the doors were purposely held open. Her expression was full of concern and love, and it made Tony soft and ashamed. 

He looked down at the glass in his hand and willed it not to be his, then opened his mouth to excuse himself, but Pepper shook her head before he could speak. She understood.

She carefully took the glass and put an arm around his waist. "Let's go to bed, Tony."

"Wait," Tony said, the word tearing from his throat in a strangled cry. "I need to barf."

Pepper hesitated, then became alert and looked around for a trash can or bathroom quickly.

"No, no," Tony repeated. "No. Not that. No, I mean, I need to— I need to use B.A.R.F. I need to see him."

"Tony," Pepper said softly, her eyes going sad. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"No, I need to. Pep, I need to. I need to see him."

Pepper stared into his eyes and chewed on her bottom lip, and she must have been thinking of a million different things, concerns, questions, ideas with better judgement. But Tony was desperate, and she knew him better than anyone else. Tony wouldn't rest until he did this. Temporary solution to permanent problem, but it was better than drinking.

"Okay," she murmured. "But if you start feeling like you're going to have a panic attack again, then we're shutting it down."

Tony nodded.

They went down to the lab together, Pepper staying close at his side and keeping him upright. She opened a doorway and lead the two of them into a blank white room. She sighed shakily before sitting beside him. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know what to do."

The room shifted in front of their very eyes, rays of blue light forming furniture, the setting of the Stark Industries foyer. Then, the kid materialized in front of him, pixel by pixel, as if it were some reverse of how he—

He was wearing his uncle's suit jacket and jeans, a black shirt underneath and his hair gelled back. He grinned with excitement and just stood still in the room like a memory frozen in time. Tony held his breath and felt a burning pain in his chest an throat. He wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair up, to hug his kid tightly and tell him he loved him.

Tony appeared next, a younger one by about four months who was more suave and self-assured. As the last pixel fell into place, they came alive in the memory. Pepper squeezed onto his hand, and sat silently next to him.

"Alright, Mr. Parker," Tony teased. "All you gotta do is hold this and we'll take a picture together, and then just like that your little internship thing is real."

"I can already imagine people saying that I faked the photo," Peter grinned, ear to ear. "Do you think they'll believe it? Do you have a wax figure of you made?"

"Yes," Tony said with a shrug. "Wearing a different suit, though. So, whatever. We'll just take a bunch of different ones. If all else fails, I'll just show up to your science class and sign your homework or something."

Peter burst with bright laughter. (Tony shuddered with his exhale. His hands shook violently in Pepper's. He wanted it to be real. He wanted to hear his kid laugh in person.)

"Tony?" Pepper asked quietly, rubbing his back in soothing circles. "Come on. Let's turn it off."

"Pep." He heaved, his eyes brimming with tears. He was so exhausted. 

The image stopped and faded away, and seeing Peter fall apart cell by cell with a grin on his face had his stomach lurching, the alcohol he had drank suddenly wanting to pull itself up. That wasn't how it happened. He wasn't smiling. He was afraid, he was terrified, his face was something burnt into his head, the way the kid fell into his arms, desperate for help and protection and—

"Listen to me," Pepper repeated, putting her hands on his cheeks. "Tony. Take a breath. You're here. You're right here, and I'm with you."

"I need to get him back," Tony said desperately, his voice trembling and tripping over itself. His next big request. He needed permission to devote himself to this, because it would consume him. 

Pepper, the ever-so-patient martyr, frowned deeply. "Tony..."

"I can't," Tony struggled, trying to form the words. "I can't rest. This is tearing me apart, Pep. I—This can't be how it is, this can't be permanent."

"You need to do this," Pepper said quietly.

"Yes."

"Then I support you." She sighed quietly and tucked her forehead onto his shoulder. "But tonight, you should get some rest. We both need some sleep ."

They went to bed.

Tomorrow he was washed within himself, tucked away in his lab nursing a hangover and nearly a year's worth of voicemails to his chest. He stayed watching patrols, footage from several nights from several months. He listened to the kid talk about everything; upcoming field trips that were now cancelled, tests that were now postponed, finals that were no longer coming up. He wondered how many of the people that Peter had saved during those patrols were still alive.

He wondered if Peter's friends were alive. His teachers. His classmates. He had a pained sense of heart realizing that much of it didn't matter. That he simply was gone, and that his life being gone with it shouldn't matter. 

"Hey, call Karen."

"Karen is offline," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said plainly. "Would you like me to activate the suit?"

"Yeah," Tony huffed, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet up on the desk. "Do that."

After a moment, a new voice flooded into the room. "Hello, Mr. Stark. What can I help you with today?"

Tony didn't know why the greeting made him so wistful. He also didn't know why he programmed Karen to be so much like Peter. 

"Hi, Karen," Tony said quietly. "How're you doing?"

"I am doing well," she said cheerfully. "Thank you for asking. How are you, Mr. Stark?"

"Been better." Tony tapped his thumb against his leg. "I wanted to ask about the kid."

"Peter has been active for 67 days," Karen noted, her voice softer. "But completely dormant. I have been programmed with keeping him safe, but I do not know where he is. His tracker is not responding. Perhaps he isn't wearing his suit?"

"Do you have footage from when the tracker went offline?"

"...Yes," Karen replied. "As a precaution, I am to warn you that it may cause distress. However, Peter never deactivated his suit."

Tony let the words sink in. Then he furrowed his eyebrows and sat up. "Wait. His suit is still active? Can he hear me?"

"No, I cannot seem to reach him. You were only able to reach me because I exist outside of the Stark suit, as well as the Iron Spider."

"But it's still active."

"That is correct." She paused. "Peter is safe."

Despite everything, Tony felt a strong sense of relief, mixing with confusion and the contradictory dread. He's safe. That means he's alive. How is he alive? 

"How do you know that?" Tony asked, his voice bordering on a furious despair. "I saw him, Karen. He died in my arms. I swear on my dad that if you're messing with me, I'll disconnect you and sell you to Google."

"If Peter were hurt, he would have set off a protocol," Karen said knowingly. "I can try and contact him, if you'd like."

Tony jolted up in his seat. His head pounded from the sudden motion. "Do it." 

More silence.

Tony held his breath.

"...I can't seem to reach him. It seems the connection is more broken than I thought."

"Make sure the suit has strengthened interplanetary communication," Tony said dryly. "I'll put it on my list."

"Sir, if I may suggest," Karen started thoughtfully. "I have calculated positions for where communication may be even feasibly possible, and there is a set of coordinates in New York; at the Sanctum Sanctorum."

Tony stared blankly ahead. "Repeat that?"

"Which part, sir?"

"Sanctum Sanctorum?" Tony asked. He already knew what he was asking for. "Bring up a photo."

A holograph image of that godforsaken building appeared in front of him. Of course. The cowardly wizard who's to blame for all of this is the same person whose house is key to fixing it. Tony's blood was boiling.

He tapped the arc reactor on his chest and let the nanotech climb over his skin. 

"Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. interjected. "It's against doctors orders to be using the suit at this time. You still have superficial injuries that—"

"I'm going to talk to the kid." Tony said, and the faceplate fell over him. He opened the garage door and flew off.

Manhattan was a short drive away, all things considered. People probably aren't expecting to see Iron Man, as he's been away from the public view since everything went down. He didn't care about any of that when his biggest concern was getting the kid back. Nothing compared to that.

If Peter was able to be brought back, that meant everyone was. 

He burst through the doors of the Sanctum and strolled past the confused people who were also dressed in robes. (Maybe good old Doctor Strange was in a cult. Was he using cult magic the whole damn time? Whatever.) "F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Down the hall there will be a circular room," she replied, bringing up the blueprints. "The connection is strongest there."

"Alright." Tony walked in with heavy footfalls. "Karen, get ready."

"Yes, sir." 

He stood in the center of the room. "Call Peter Parker."

Silence. Tony stared at the HUD in his helmet unblinkingly, waiting for the call to decline. 

Instead, the mark went green, and Tony's ears filled with static.

"Kid?" Tony choked out. He was talking to a damn ghost. "Peter, can you hear me?"

"Mr. St-rk?" Peter's voice filtered, consonants blocked out by white noise. "H-ly s-it, c-n you h--r me?"

"Yeah," Tony gasped. He didn't dare move. "Yeah, I can hear you kid."

"W--t? It's r--lly h-rd to und-rs-and you, Mr. S-ark, I th-nk we h-ve b-d conn-ct-on." Further white noise. Tony's head hurt, but he pressed on to hear what the kid was saying to him. "M-kes s--se. I -- differ-nt pl--et. Or r--lm."

The kid laughed quietly as if he had said a joke, and it was all chopped up but it was the best thing Tony had ever heard. 

"Ar- you tr--ng to g-t to me?"

"Yes," Tony said immediately. "I'm trying as hard as I can, kiddo. I'll get you back home. I promise. Do you know where you are?"

"H-ll," Peter said with some sort of amusement. "It's like nothing. I j-st --- and th-re's just em-ty s-ace and st-ff. There are o-her people h-re."

"Other people?" Tony questioned. "Did everyone who got blipped end up in the same space?"

"D-d you j-st say bl-pped? Th-t's th- dum--st n-me E-ER," Peter replied, the broken up syllables sounding pointed. It was so hard to understand what the kid was saying. This was killing him. "Yeah, though."

"Everyone who got blipped ended up where you are?" Tony asked again.

"Yes."

There was some relief. That made things easier.

"It's so g--d to h--r your voice," Peter admitted. "I thought... - thought th-t you w-re..."

"I'm alright now," Tony assured him. "I'm okay, Pete. You don't have to worry about me. I'll find a way to get you back."

"How..." Peter's voice was meek, and the fear that he had heard from the kid on Titan was so loud now. "H-w are you going t- get us out -- h-re?" 

Tony blinked tears away.

"I don't know, Peter," Tony said honestly. "I don't know."

That night he slept in the Sanctum. Nobody bothered him, nobody asked questions. His suit isn't comfortable to sleep in but he would do it every night for the rest of his life if it kept Peter safe. He dreamt of Pepper when he drifted off and imagined that she was just down the hall, and that this was a domestic life and nothing was as horrific as it was in reality.

He woke up to a new development-- A call. From Peter's suit. He sat up from the floor like a dead man taking his first breath and then answered the call right away.

"Peter?"

Peter let out a breath of relief that was able to be heard over the speaker. It was shaky. "You p-cked up."

"Of course I did."

"--- m- b—--y t-day."

"What? Sorry, connection is shaky," Tony lifted himself to his feet in an attempt to make it better.

"It's m- birthd-y t-day," Peter repeated.

Whatever was left of Tony's heart broke. He scrambled to put the pieces back together before responding to him.

In his mind, Peter is telling him that it's his birthday, and he's come over to the lab for work, and instead Tony spoils him with an emergency birthday cake, and the kid somehow gets frosting on his nose and in the curls of his hair, and he's grinning, opening up paper gifts and anywhere but there.

Tony inhaled deeply.

"I'm so sorry, Peter."

"I m-ss you," Peter said, and his voice broke. He sobbed softly, and even still the sounds of his kid's cries were broken apart and strung lazily together by the universe. Uneven. The kid had been ripped cell by cell and even now he wasn't in one piece, and Tony couldn't do a thing about it.

"I miss you too, kid." Tony said, bowing his head down. "Happy birthday."

It's been two months. 

Pepper and Tony have temporarily moved into the Sanctum, and have been working with Wong to try and sort this mess out. The Avengers minus Tony have formed together in the time that they've been away, and Tony had gotten a call just yesterday saying that Thanos was dead and the stones are destroyed.

He continued with his own plan.

Tony had learned a lot about Peter in these two months, and he's written each one down as if it would tether him to a reality where Peter was in fact beside him, not only alive but living.

One full notebook sat at the side of his bed of nothing but things that Peter has said to him in the two months. Things to remember for when Peter comes back, all written in scrambled messy handwriting.

He thought of what brought him here. The grief, trauma, depression—The support. Pepper. Love. Family. It all leads him here, to this moment.

"One minute," Wong said, pulling him from his thoughts. "I have groups of students ready to open portals in every corner of Earth. Are you ready, Tony?"

"I'm ready," Tony said firmly.

The seconds count down.

Tony watched as the portal opened in a spiral of sparks. The Sanctum is already full of people, ready and eager to see their family, ones that they've lost. Strangers walk out of the portal, and there's shouting and cheering flooding the streets outside. It's so loud it's deafening.

He raised his chin and looked around for Peter. He couldn't see him. He felt as though he was about to pass out with the way his head was light and his breath was held. Where was the kid? Where was he?

There was a hand on his shoulder, grabbing him tightly. Tony spun around... and there he was.

Peter stood there, gripping his shoulder like a lifeline. Tears streaming down his face and grinning wildly. "You saved me."

Tony didn't hesitate to pull him into a hug, kissing his son's temple and letting himself breathe properly for the first time in months. 

And suddenly, everything was alright.

It was finally, totally fine.