An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“—and then, blam-blam! Do-do-do-do—blam blam blam! Blam! There’s this totally crazy laser beam that just — whoosh! — went right over my head and I’m like, holy cow—! It was insane, Mr. Stark, you should’ve seen it!”
Peter’s voice stretched thin where it tried to sound excited, pulled taut over something fragile beneath his vocal cords; barely rising above the steady chimes and beeps of the many machines lining the room.
It was a space he knew all too well by now — the kind of familiarity earned through frequent repetition. And each one, he made sure to note, was against his liking.
Both he and Mr. Stark had both spent way too much time here over the past year.
At least this time, he got a bigger room.
“Mhm-hm.” Pressed shoulder-to-shoulder beside him, Tony managed to wedge himself into the hospital bed without complaint. Half-reclined against the raised backing, his head tipped slightly back with his eyes shut, looking almost like he was dozing off; if not for the attentiveness hidden in every quiet hum of acknowledgment he gave.
Both his arms folded loosely across his chest, almost lackadaisically. He listened to Peter’s constant ramblings like it was any other day.
“Then there’s this crazy bright light, and next thing I know Thor flies right over me — and Vision, Mr. Stark it was so crazy, he just tore through everything with his yellow stone laser thing and there were lasers everywhere — blam! Blam blam! It was insane!”
The room itself seemed to breathe in quiet, artificial rhythms, a sharp contrast to Peter’s highly excited and breathless chattering. Ventilation whispered through hidden ducts as purified air filtered down from the ceiling. Sleek panels hummed low along the walls, transparent displays flickering faint blue light that painted everything in a sterile, muted glow.
Somewhere behind him, a pump cycled with strict precision — whirr…pause…whirr — pushing fluids through clear lines that disappeared beneath the tangle of blankets and tape at Peter’s arms; a steady, persistent soundtrack that had been on nonstop repeat.
“…and then you fly by — at first I had no idea it was you, ‘cause, you know, there was so much going on. And then one second I’m still strapped to the table and the next…wait, no, the next…no, that was after Bucky tried to get me out, which — okay, that part was insane, ‘cause he just, like, came outta nowhere…and there was fire everywhere! I swear, even the ceiling was on fire, and there were these like, fire-balls flying around that just fwoosh! fshhrr! It was everywhere — it was so crazy, Mr. Stark!”
Though animated with excitement, Peter’s eyes still looked utterly drained beneath it all, faded pale and hollow with dark exhaustion carved deep beneath them in bruised half-moons. Yet his words still came out quick and eager, tripping in uneven bursts, each word rushed for the next. All as his voice thinned into something weak and crackly, his breaths catching on themselves as the energy started to slip away.
Tony wasn’t surprised Peter kept talking, words spilling out in stubborn defiance. The kid had already informed him and every nurse that passed by that he was, verbatim, “more sick of sleeping than sitting through A.P. Bio.”
Tony didn’t argue with that. After all, he’d seen how this would end.
“Mhm-hm,” he hummed, low and steady.
He just let the kid have the sliver of wakefulness while it held.
“One second I’m laying there, and the next — wait, no, Groot. Did I tell you about Groot?” Peter pushed on, his voice lower in volume yet still persistent all the same. “He was yelling — or, you know, Groot-yelling, which is still yelling, I think, just more…plant-like? I don’t know, it was weird…and I think Bucky was throwing Rocket, that raccoon, at some point. That I could’ve imagined. That was really weird. It was all so crazy, Mr. Stark!”
Tony listened to the recollection with one ear tuned to Peter, and the other turned to the machines. His attention flickered between the rise and fall of Peter’s voice and the steady lines on the monitors. Never fully settling on either.
Still, his response came easily. Familiar.
Automatic.
“Mhm-hm.”
While he’d never tell the kid, Tony didn’t exactly require the play-by-play from Peter. He’d lived through the same battle with significantly more consciousness and substantially less blood being siphoned out of his body at the time. Safe to say, his version of events had considerably fewer gaps in it.
And whatever gaps adrenaline and panic had left in his own memory, FRIDAY had spent the last several days methodically tearing apart every second of footage available. Suit telemetry, thermal scans, comm logs, HUD recordings — replaying the disaster on an endless loop while searching for anything that could give them answers.
Anything that explained what Osborn had turned himself into.
“And then this music starts playing — old people music, Mr. Stark, like, really old — and then Star-Lord’s just flying around shooting stuff and there were explosions and yelling and Thor was crashing through walls —”
But somehow, none of the footage or his own recollection hit quite the same as hearing Peter talk about it.
Maybe, he figured, just maybe — it was because the kid recounted the whole nightmare like it had been some sort of chaotic Avengers field trip instead of the closest Tony had ever come to losing him since actually losing him.
He wasn’t entirely sure his shrapnel-damaged-but-technically-repaired heart was built to withstand this many near-death experiences involving one deeply unlucky teenager.
“This is the first time in my tenure as Spider-Man that I was kind of welcomed into the writers’ room, me and the producers would meet once every two weeks to pitch ideas and discuss our ambitions and what we wanted to try and do. My pitch when I came to the table with it was called ‘Spider-Puberty’, what happens if Peter Parker is losing control and things are changing?” ‘Spider-Puberty’ was my tagline pitch to the studio — which was immediately shot down, but they liked the kernel of the idea and it grew into what we have in the movie now.”
“For whoever’s next, whether that is a Miles Morales or a Spider-Gwen or a Spider-Woman or something like that, I would love to be a part of setting up the next chapter, whatever that looks like, I don’t know. But if I could do what Downey did for me, then I would be so content swinging off into the sunset.” - Tom Holland.
the cinematic irony of peter perched on playground equipment, trying to convince tony, “you didn’t have to come all the way out here, i had that, i was fine”
homecoming is not the best movie in the mcu. it isn’t the most intelligent movie. it’s not the most well-written movie. but it’s so special to me because of the care they put in to showing things like this.
peter parker is a hopeful kid with spark and drive, trying to convince tony stark, a seasoned ‘hero’ who’s recovering from the worst time of his life, that he’s ready to take care of bigger responsibilities. and they show that in so many ways.
tony’s just saved him. he got an alert that peter was drowning, in danger, and he saved him from across the WORLD, dragging him out of the water, making sure he was warm, and breathing, and safe. he chews him out, tells him to stay out of trouble, because tony recognizes that was a very dangerous situation.
peter does not recognize how dangerous it was. the idea of there being a problem for him to fix overshadows any danger he could be in, because he’s so dedicated to trying to prove himself as worthy. he thinks tony doesn’t trust him, that’s why he’s telling him to leave it alone. so he’s arguing back!!!
he’s so painfully a teenager in this movie. it makes my heart bleed.
in a similar scene: peter parker jumping on his bed, whilst he complains that he’s sick of tony “treating [him] like a kid all the time”. because. of course.
Identity Within: Part I︱Chapter 17, Rinse and Defeat (PREVIEW)
“—and then, blam-blam! Do-do-do-do—blam blam blam! Blam! There’s this totally crazy laser beam that just — whoosh! — went right over my head and I’m like, holy cow—! It was insane, Mr. Stark, you should’ve seen it!”
Peter’s voice stretched thin where it tried to sound excited, pulled taut over something fragile beneath his vocal cords; barely rising above the steady chimes and beeps of the many machines lining the infirmary room.
It was a space he knew all too well by now — the kind of familiarity earned through frequent repetition. And each one, he made sure to note, was against his liking.
Both he and Mr. Stark had both spent way too much time here over the past year.
At least he got a bigger room this time.
“Mhm-hm.” Pressed shoulder-to-shoulder beside him, Tony managed to wedge himself into the hospital bed without complaint. Half-reclined against the raised backing, his head tipped slightly back with his eyes shut, looking almost like he was dozing off; if not for the attentiveness hidden in every quiet hum of acknowledgment he gave.
Both his arms folded loosely across his chest, almost lackadaisically. He listened to Peter’s constant ramblings like it was any other day.
“Then there’s this crazy bright light, and next thing I know Thor flies right over me — and Vision, Mr. Stark it was so crazy, he just tore through everything with his yellow stone laser thing and there were lasers everywhere — blam! Blam blam! It was insane!”
The room itself seemed to breathe in quiet, artificial rhythms, a sharp contrast to Peter’s highly excited and breathless chattering. Ventilation whispered through hidden ducts as the purified draft of air filtered down from the ceiling. Sleek panels hummed low along the walls, transparent displays flickering faint blue light that painted everything in a sterile, muted glow.
Somewhere behind him, a pump cycled with strict precision — whirr…pause…whirr — pushing fluids through clear lines that disappeared beneath the tangle of blankets and tape at Peter’s arms; a steady, persistent soundtrack that had been on repeat.
“…and then you fly by — at first I had no idea it was you, ‘cause, you know, there was so much going on. And then one second I’m still strapped to the table and the next…wait, no, the next…no, that was after Bucky tried to get me out, which — okay, that part was insane, ‘cause he just, like, came outta nowhere…and there was fire everywhere! I swear, even the ceiling was on fire, and there were these like, fire-balls flying around that just fwoosh! fshhrr! It was everywhere — it was so crazy, Mr. Stark!”
Though animated with excitement, Peter’s eyes still looked utterly drained beneath it all, faded pale and hollow with dark exhaustion carved deep beneath them in bruised half-moons. Yet his words still came out quick and eager, tripping over themselves in uneven bursts, each word rushed for the next. All as his voice thinned into something weak and crackly, his breaths catching on themselves as the energy started to slip away.
Tony wasn’t surprised Peter kept talking, words spilling out in stubborn defiance. The kid had already informed him and every nurse that passed by that he was, verbatim, “officially more sick of sleeping than sitting through A.P. Bio.”
Tony didn’t argue with that. After all, he’d seen how this would end.
“Mhm-hm,” he hummed, low and steady.
He just let the kid have the sliver of wakefulness while it held.
“One second I’m laying there, and the next — wait, no, Groot. Did I tell you about Groot?” Peter pushed on, his voice lower in volume yet still persistent all the same. “He was yelling — or, you know, Groot-yelling, which is still yelling, I think, just more…plant-like? I don’t know, it was weird…and I think Bucky was throwing Rocket, that raccoon, at some point. That I could’ve imagined. That was really weird. It was all so crazy, Mr. Stark!”
Tony listened to the recollection with one ear tuned to Peter, and the other turned to the machines. His attention flickered between the rise and fall of Peter’s voice and the steady lines on the monitors. Never fully settling on either.
Still, his response came easily. Familiar.
Automatic.
“Mhm-hm.”
While he’d never tell the kid, Tony didn’t exactly require the play-by-play from Peter. He’d lived through the same battle with significantly more consciousness and substantially less blood being siphoned out of his body at the time. Safe to say, his version of events had considerably fewer gaps in it.
And whatever gaps adrenaline and panic had left in his own memory, FRIDAY had spent the last several days methodically tearing apart every second of footage available. Suit telemetry, thermal scans, comm logs, HUD recordings — replaying the disaster on an endless loop while searching for anything that could give them answers.
Anything that explained what Osborn had turned himself into.
“And then this music starts playing — old people music, Mr. Stark, like, really old — and then Star-Lord’s just flying around shooting stuff and there were explosions and yelling and Thor was crashing through walls —”
But somehow, none of the footage or his own recollection hit quite the same as hearing Peter talk about it.
Maybe, he figured, just maybe — it was because the kid recounted the whole nightmare like it had been some chaotic Avengers field trip instead of the closest Tony had ever come to losing him since actually losing him.
Tony wasn’t entirely sure his shrapnel-damaged-but-technically-repaired heart was built to withstand this many near-death experiences involving one deeply unlucky teenager.
At the risk of sounding anti-intellectual, I think that college should be free and also not a requirement for employment outside of highly specialized career fields
technically you can, if you don't care about degrees.
Free Harvard courses.
Free Courses from Stanford.
Free Courses from MIT.
Free courses from Yale.
Free courses from Princeton.
Free courses on Coursera.
Free Courses on EDx
Free Courses on Alison
For paid, there's The Great Courses+/Wonderium. 20$ a month for unlimited courses.
When searching, the phrases you're looking for are Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs), or you can do a general search of say, "free online college courses."
Oh, and so you don't get surprised like I did, have an avoid: Hillsdale College is a conservative Christian site and not a valid MOOC place. Sign up with them and you will get things like THIS IS WHY THE LEFT IS TURNING YOUR KIDS TRANS AND GAY in your inbox.
I just want to add that I watch The Great Courses for free on Kanopy with my public library membership. Check to see if your public library provides access to Kanopy or not.
One of the best scenes in the movie. Tony trusting Peter to keep up with him, giving gentle direction, they are a team, they have obviously worked together a lot
It's called a Baby Monitor Protocol. @nblkolt - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
ellievsbear
snowghoul
gummygunk
areudirty
germansingergirl
vaporwave
