I absolutely adore the scene where Happy and Peter talk on the jet, but I refuse to acknowledge Tonyâs death. So I give you: the jet pep talk, but with Tony and Peter.
When the jet lands in front of Peter, he doesnât know what to think. Heâs a whirlpool of emotions: relieved, yes, but underneath that is a backdrop of pain and panic and defeat and confusion and all the things Peter never wanted to feel again.
So when Happy stands in front of him, Peter canât let himself immediately go to him. What if itâs not him? What if Mysterio is fucking with his mind again? Peter is close to tears, tired of not being able to trust his reality.
I just want to go home, he thinks almost childishly.
He nearly falls into Happy. Itâs the closest piece of home Peter has right now, and the familiar, caring face and arms around him is more than he could ask for. Safe, safe, safe, Peterâs mind supplies.
Happy steps back and gets a good look at his bruised and bloody form before letting out a breath. âJesus, kid. He really got you good, didnât he?â
Peter swallows thickly around the tears in his throat, looking down in shame. Self-hatred bubbles in his chest, and all he can do is nod tiredly. Happy pats him gently.
âLetâs get you inside, see if we canât fix you up a bit.â
They make their way into the jet, and Peter nearly collapses in relief when the doors close behind him. He canât even bring himself to marvel at the nice piece of aircraftâheâs too caught up in the fact that, for now, heâs safe.
âWow. A couple days of vacation and youâve already forgotten about me? I get no acknowledgement?â a voice says wryly, and Peter turns sharply to find Tony watching him closely.
Peter stumbles back, looks at Happy with wide eyes before looking at Tony again. Tony, who isnât supposed to be here. Tony, whoâs still recovering from the Snap, who has a wife and a daughter he should be with, whoâs retired from being Iron Man.
âWh-What are you doing here?â Peter stutters. For some inexplicable reason, he can feel his eyes well with tears all over again. Thisâhe never wanted to bother Tony, and this is more than he could have ever asked for. But he canât face Tonyâs disappointment. He just canât.
Tony shrugs. âYou needed backup. Iâm backup.â
Peterâs breath hitches at the words, an echo from their time on the ship together. He takes in a careful breath, trying to keep hold of his tenuous control on his emotions.
Behind him, Happy says, âNo, youâre not. Youâre here for moral support only. In fact, youâre really more of a stowaway than anything else.â
Peterâs face crumples. Immediately, all traces of amusement fall from Tonyâs face as he stands and opens his arms. This time, Peter doesnât hesitate. He lets himself stumble into Tony, careful not to hurt the man or ruin the prosthetic.
âWhoa, whoa, Iâm here, kid, Iâm here. Iâve got you,â Tony murmurs as Peter tucks his head into Tonyâs shoulder, taking in deep shuddering breaths.
For a moment, they just stay like that, Peter trying to ground himself in the comforting embrace and Happy hovering awkwardly behind them. Itâs awhile before any of them speak.
âYouâYou were wrong,â Peter finally chokes out, and Tony gently pulls away at that, hands braced on Peterâs shoulders.
Tony frowns, sitting them both down. âWell, that doesnât sound right. I try not to make a habit of being wrong. Comes with being a genius.â
Peter swipes messily at his eyes. âYou were. Wrong, I mean. IâI canâtâIâm not cut out for this. This is too big. All of it.â
Tony nudges him affectionately. âBig? Of course it is. But too big? Space was bigger. And you handled that beautifully.â
Peter snorts derisively. âI died.â
âYou fought,â Tony corrects. âYou got back up. Over and over again. Against the most evil Titan known to man.â
Peter looks at Tony then, eyes full of nostalgia and fear and self-hatred. âBut I had you with me,â he whispers, a confession almost.
Tony softens, tilts Peterâs chin up with a finger. âHey.â He waits for Peterâs eyes to lock with his before speaking again. âYou still have me. You know that.â
Peterâs lips tremble for a second, days of constant stress and pressure fraying at his nerves. âI know, itâs justââ Peterâs voice cracks, âEveryone keeps asking me if Iâm going to fill Iron Manâs shoes and I keepâI keep screwing up, and I canâtâI canâtââ I canât be you, Peter doesnât say. Tony hears it anyway.
âPeter, stop,â Tony says firmly. âListen to me: the world doesnât know this yet, but they donât need the next Iron Man. They donât need me at all. They need you.â
Peter starts to shake his head, a protest already on his lips, but Tonyâs quick to cut him off. âAh ahâdonât interrupt me when Iâm trying to give you a pep talk. Iâm only gonna say this onceâactually, thatâs a lie, Iâll say it as many times as it takes to get it through your thick skull.â Tony sighs. âI knowâgod, I know this scary. I know this is terrifying. But you, Peter Parkerâthereâs a, a goodness in you that Iâve never seen in anyone else before. Not in Cap, not in the Avengers, and definitely not in me,â Tony tells him. âFor most of us? Thereâs a reason why we do what we do. A selfish reason. But you? You do this because you can. Because you care about other people, and thatâs it. You have nothing to gain. And thatâsâgod, thatâs more powerful than anything.â
Tony grips Peterâs shoulder with his metal hand and brings his other to Peterâs face, wiping away the stray tears. âSo no. Youâll never be the next Iron Man. You know why?â Tony asks. âBecause youâre better than him.â
Tony gently squeezes Peterâs shoulder for emphasis and waits a minute to watch his words sink in. He knows that this is a make or break moment, that Peterâs been knocked down and maybe this time heâll choose not to get back up. Tony wouldnât blame him.
But then Peter sucks in a sharp breath, eyes hardening with determination, and Tony knows. His chest swells with pride.
âOkay?â Tony asks, just to be sure.
âOkay,â Peter agrees.
