Hi everyone!

It's been quite a while since I have written anything. I had a disastrous March with the loss of my dad and for the first time I have had the creativity to write something.

I hope this little one-shot gives you something to distract you with everything that is happening in the world.

Apologies for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy.

Summary: AU – Peter has the gauntlet, the stones already in place. Aliens are beginning to swarm him and in the overwhelming panic that begins to consume, he does the only thing he can think of. He shoves his hand into the gauntlet.

One In A Million

The first thing Peter hears is the sound of crickets. It's not what he is expecting but it's peaceful and he let's himself drift back into the darkness.

The second time he hears voices.

It takes him a while before the voices fade from indigestible chatter to fully formed words that Peter can understand.

"Why is he still sleeping daddy?"

The voice is unfamiliar but not threatening. It's sweet with a definitive child-like lilt to it. It's not one Peter recognises but the darkness has swaddled him comfortably and he feels he has no need to break free.

"Peter is healing, baby girl."

This voice is familiar and Peter sinks deeper into the darkness knowing that he is safe.

The third time Peter wakes it is nothing like the darkness before. This time is all too aware of everything. The noise is the room is too loud and he's aware of every breath in the room. He counts three separate heart beats, all beating too rapidly. His eyelids are too heavy to lift, and he doesn't try to pry them open. His mouth is a concoction of something foul, stale and slick. He can feel the fabric of the clothes he is in, and he wondered where his suit is, but the thought is quickly lost as the pain flares.

His whole left side feels as if it is on fire. His muscles twist and he wanted to scream out in pain but can only manage to part his lips and suck in a harsh breath that makes his throat burn.

"Peter, can you hear me?"

While there is pain in his left side, there is a twinge in his right wrist. He flinches, fingers curling tighter around something and he hears a grunt.

"Peter, if you can hear me please let go."

Reflexively his tightens his grip and the voice grunts again.

"Kid, it's Tony."

Tony. He was here, alive. Peter wanted to talk, wanted to spew his relief and gratitude and apologise for everything but he couldn't, and his grip tightened.

"Kid, if you can hear me, you have to let go. You are crushing the wizard's wrist," Tony said, his voice urgent.

Wizard. Doctor Strange was here too? Peter sniffed the air. He could smell the familiar scent of coffee and motor oil that he knew was Tony. He could also smell the faint scent of tea and something that just smelt ancient. He had smelt it before when he was stuck on a ship in space with Doctor Strange.

"Don't," Strange's voice was strained. "Don't try and pry him off me. He could snap my wrist."

Peter didn't want that. He didn't want to hurt the Doctor and he felt sharp pain through his fingers as he slowly released the doctor.

He felt his arm drop and thump against what he now knew was the bed. He felt beyond exhausted and when he tried to open his eyes he simply couldn't. He couldn't even move his arm's anymore, not even a twitch in his finger. The pain was still burning through his left side. It was as if someone had shoved a red-hot poker under his fingers and was threading it up his arm and to his neck.

"What the hell was that?" Tony's voice cracked as he spoke.

"Looks like his reflexes have returned," Strange said with an audible wince. "His strength, it seems, has not been affected by his time unconscious. His healing is remarkable."

"Jesus, kid," Tony breathed.

"Daddy, is Peter going to wake up now?" It was the child voice again, soft and innocent. The third heartbeat in the room.

"Morgan! How long have you been here?" Tony said.

Peter heard the shift of fabric on fabric and the small sound of a kiss being pecked to someone's cheek.

"I was looking out for him, like you said too," Morgan said quietly.

"Perhaps best not to be alone with Peter anymore," Strange said. "His senses appear to be in overdrive and are protecting him from any potential danger."

Was he in danger? Was it Thanos? Had they lost again?

"Why is he moving now? After all this time?" Tony asked.

"I can't be certain," Strange said. "But his body may be allowing him to wake as the healing process begins to slow."

Peter wanted to listen too more, he wanted to know what happened to him, what was happening now, but the darkness claimed him once more.

The fourth time Peter woke up the pain wasn't as bad. He could still feel it pulsing through his left arm, but it was if someone had been running a current through his arm for too long, it felt hot, painful and numbing all at the same time.

It wasn't the pain that had woken him up though. There was something rest against his right side and there was the scent of something sweet and artificial.

"Don't tell daddy," Morgan's voice was now recognisable, but he wasn't sure who she was. "I snuck you a grape popsicle."

Something cold was pressed into his hand and his cheek muscle twitched.

"I can't sleep, so I thought I would keep you company," Morgan said. "I brought you another teddy, too."

Curious and his right hand starting to go numb with the popsicle, Peter pried his eyes open. He blinked slowly; the room coated in a haze that slowly came into focus. The room was dark much to his relief, the only source of light coming from the hands of who Peter assumed was Morgan. It took him a moment to put it together. She was wearing red knitted gloves that looked like Iron's man's hands with a small glowing light in the middle that resembled pulsars.

"This teddy's name is Tea Cup," Morgan said.

"Good name," Peter rasped, his voice barley above a whisper. His mouth felt like it was coated in wet glue and his throat burned but it was good to speak.

Morgan whipped around, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping. "Peter? You're awake."

"I guess," Peter whispered. He grimaced and looked at the popsicle in his hand. Maybe that would sooth his throat. "Think you could open my popsicle?"

Morgan scrambled for the treat, Peter sighing with quiet relief as the coolness left his fingers. She got the wrapping undone and twisted her body until she was on her knees, holding the popsicle in hand.

"Here you go!"

Peter lifted his hand, trembling as he took the popsicle by the stick. He brought it to his lips, aware the Morgan was watching his every move. The treat was cool on his tongue and as he slowly sucked the treat, it trickled down his throat, gently cooling him. It didn't do much to help the slick coating that filled his mouth but at least it tasted better.

"Thank you," Peter said.

Morgan beamed, pushing her hair from her face. "I told daddy you would like the popsicle."

"Whose daddy?" Peter asked before sucking on the popsicle again. He was making quick work of it, unable to stop chewing on the soft ice.

"You don't remember our daddy?" Morgan's face fell. "Daddy said you wouldn't know that I was your little sister 'coz you were gone for a while. He didn't say you would forget him too."

Peter swallowed a chunk of popsicle, nearly choking but managed to get it down. Our daddy? Peter thought. The only father figure Peter had was Tony, but they had never discussed it and after going to space when Tony hadn't wanted him there, he wasn't sure if Tony even wanted to mentor him anymore. Looking closer at Morgan though, he could see similar features. The same dark hair, the same intelligent eyes staring at him sadly. If Tony Stark was every going to have a daughter, she was it.

"Iron man," Peter rasped. "Dad."

"Irondad," Morgan beamed. "He's our daddy! You remember!"

Peter's hand dropped as his mind swum. His eyes were getting heavy again and he was struggling to fight off the sleep that wanted to claim him once more.

"Can you tell dad something for me?" Peter asked quietly.

"Uh huh," Morgan nodded eagerly.

"Tell him I said I'm sorry," Peter said.

"What are you sorry for?" Morgan titled her head to the side.

Peter shook his head lightly, his vision swimming at the motion. "Tell him I love him."

"I will," Morgan said. "He loves you too. He tells you and me every day that he loves us. I love him 3000."

Peter smiled, his eyes beginning to droop. "Hey Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"It's nice to meet my little sister," Peter told her.

"I love you too, Peter. It's nice that you're awake," Morgan said.

"I'm just going to rest again," Peter said, his eyes already having slid closed. "Thanks for Tea Cup."

"I should be asleep too," Morgan said. "I'll sleep with you!"

Peter felt her settling down into his side, turning so her head laid on his chest and her little arm coming across his stomach. He had just enough energy to wrap his arm around her shoulders to keep her close before he slipped into sleep once more.

Tony peeked his head into Morgan's room but wasn't surprised to see it empty. There was little that could contain the energy of a four-year-old and the sun only having just risen wasn't one of them. He and Pepper often found her downstairs watching morning cartoons, waiting for one of them to come and make her breakfast.

Continuing past Morgan's room, Tony paused at the closed door. When they had first found the lake house, he had made sure to have a room for Peter. He didn't know how or when he was getting Peter back, but Tony knew that one day he would. He could not stop thinking that because the moment he did was the moment he had given up. Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark room, a fond smile took over his face and he sighed. It was nearly impossible to keep Morgan out of Peter's room. When Tony and Pepper had first explained to her who Peter was when he had returned, she had been thrilled to have an older brother. She went and spoke to him every day, demanding that he wake up and play with her. He didn't but it didn't stop Morgan from tyring the next day.

Even after Peter, still unconscious, grabbing Strange's wrist and nearly snapping it nearly a month ago hadn't stopped her from sneaking into Peter's room with no adult supervision. Tony stepped further into the room. He noted that another teddy bear had joined Peter's bed and that there was now a giant purple stain on the sheets that Tony knew had once been a popsicle. A dirtied stick was held limp in Peter's hand and Tony shook his head fondly at Morgan's antics.

He moved slowly, praying that Peter's senses didn't go off and gently lifted Morgan.

"Daddy," Morgan yawned, wrapping her arms around his neck and planted a sleepy, wet kiss to his cheek.

"What have I said about sneaking into Peter's room?" Tony huffed, gently poking her sides.

Morgan squirmed in his arms and giggled quietly. "I couldn't sleep so I brought Peter a popsicle."

"I can see that," Tony eyed the stain again. They would have to change the sheets again. It was easier when Strange used to magic to lift Peter to change the sheets. That way they could avoid causing any more damage to the kids left side. It was a good thing the Wizard was dropping by the check up on Peter. "Did he enjoy it?"

"He did!" Morgan said. "He fell asleep before finishing it though."

"Oh?" Tony indulged Morgan's make-believe.

"Yep! He said that he liked Tea Cup's name too," Morgan beamed. "He also said to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you."

Tony froze, eyes snapping to Morgan's. It felt as if the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. They had never told Morgan exactly what happened to Peter, only that he had been hurt saving the world and that he was a hero. They had shown her videos of Peter and she often imagined what the two of them would do when he woke up but never had she said that he had spoken to her.

"And he said that it was nice to meet me," Morgan grinned. "Then we went back to sleep."

"Wait," Tony's voice came out hoarse. "Peter said those words? He was awake?"

"That's what I said, daddy," Morgan huffed. "He didn't stay awake for long though. He was still tired. Even after all the sleeping he's done."

Tony mind was reeling. Peter had woken up. Peter had woken up to his daughter sitting on the bed with him, eaten a popsicle and fallen back to sleep.

"Did he say anything else?" Tony demanded.

"No," Morgan shook her head. "Daddy, can we make Peter some pancakes?"

"Good idea," Tony said, placing Morgan on her feet. "Mum's in the kitchen, you go get started."

Morgan's feet slapped against the floor as she raced out the room.

Tony staggered forward to Peter's bed. He removed the wooden popsicle stick, feeling the stickiness and tossed over his shoulder. He gently took Peter's hands, his own shaking and squeezed.

"Kid?" Tony asked, not daring to make his voice too loud.

Peter's chest rose and fell but there was no other sign.

"Come on kid," Tony breathed. "Just, give me something. Please. Just let me know you're okay."

He gently leaned down and kissed Peter's forehead. Pulling back his hand tightened in Peter's when the boys head rolled to the side, facing Tony. His lips smacked together in his sleep, not forming words but making a little noise before he resumed a peaceful rest. Tears sprung to Tony's eyes, a shocked, joy laugh tumbling through his lips.

It was the most he had seen Peter move in nearly a month.

The fifth time Peter woke up he was alone. It didn't take him nearly as long to open his eyes and they adjusted fairly quickly. Inhaling sharply, Peter grunted as he heaved himself up into a sitting position. His vision swam for a moment before it settled once again. Moving more slowly, Peter shifted until he was leaning against the headboard.

The room was lighter, but the curtains blocked the bright natural light he knew would be streaming through if they had been open. Peter was grateful they had remained closed. He took in the room, recognising small things but overall the room was new to him. There was bedside table and a desk in the room along with a bookshelf. Pictures he recognised were scattered around the room and drawings obviously done by Morgan decorated his walls. He smiled at the thought of her colouring something for him.

On the bedside table there was a bottle of water and Peter reached out to get it. He hissed as his left arms tugged at the movement and glanced at his arm. Black veins worked from his fingers up his arm, disappearing into the sleeve of the t-shirt he was in. Working downwards, Peter saw that his wrist, palm and fingers looked as if they had been submerged in a bath for hours and then coloured grey. It made his stomach churn to look at it and he reached for the bottle again.

He took small sips, sighing with relief. He really needed to brush his teeth and swirl a gallon of mouth wash. He could hear voices downstairs and the sound of a TV running. Finishing half the bottle, Peter placed it back on the table and took a deep breath. Pushing back the covers, he gently swung his legs off the bed.

He stood, his knees shaking so badly he had to clutch the bed. He waited several moments for them to stop shaking too badly before he could take a step. Painfully slow, he made his way across the floor, clinging to the wall with his good hand, glad that his powers still worked, and he stuck solidly to the wall. He reached the door and pushed it open.

The sound of voices grew louder, and Peter heard more voices than before. He could make out Pepper, Tony, Morgan and Strange. Then heard Steve's voice, Clint's, Scott's and Bruce Banner. Even Thor's deep voice was there. Peter's heart rate picked up and swallowed thickly. He wanted to crawl back to the bed and hide again but the overwhelming need to see Tony, to hold him and prove to himself that his mentor was okay had him walking silently down the hall.

By the time he reached the stairs he had to sit down. He knees trembled almost violently and hands shook as he clutched the railing, to keep himself steady. He could smell lunch cooking and it made his stomach tighten. He was starving and the thought of food had him salivating. Licking his lips, Peter slowly scooted down each step, one at a time. He clutched the banister tightly, hoping he didn't leave any dints along the way and mentally promised to fix them if he did. By the time he reached the bottom he was panting and ready to fall asleep again. He felt hot and sweaty and gross but determined to eat something.

"You're awake again!" Morgan grinned, suddenly standing in front of Peter.

"Hey," Peter smiled automatically back. "I guess I am."

"The Wizard didn't think you would wake up in time for lunch," Morgan said, eyeing him curiously. "Or dinner."

"Well, I'm pretty hungry," Peter said.

"Come to the kitchen! Mummy is making sandwiches and mac and cheese," Morgan jumped on the balls of her feet.

Peter winced at the idea of making it all the way to the kitchen. "I don't think I can."

"How come?" Morgan pouted. "You said you were hungry."

"I am," Peter said. "I'm just, I'm really tired."

"You've been asleep for ages though," Morgan whined.

"Have you ever sat on your leg for too long and it went really tingly and numb?" Peter asked.

Morgan's eyes widened. "Yes!"

"That's what my whole body feels like," Peter said.

"When I did that, daddy carried me until the pain went away," Morgan said. "Do you want me to get daddy to help you?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded. "That would be great."

"Okay," Morgan beamed and went running off, loudly calling, "Daddy! Peter needs help to the kitchen! His body is all tingly and he's really hungry!"

The chatter in the kitchen stopped, heavy silence filling the air before the sound of a chair scraped across the floor and heavy footsteps came racing out. In an instant Tony was in front of Peter, his mouth open, eyes drinking him in.

Peter swallowed and licked his lips. "I really need to brush my teeth."

Tony choked on a laugh before he was dropping to his knees in front of Peter and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Jesus, Underoos," Tony gasped in his ear.

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered and then his was sobbing, shaking as he cried over and over that he was sorry.

"Shhhh," Tony rubbed his back. "It's okay kid, I got you. Just try and calm down."

"I'm sorry," Peter whimpered. "I didn't know- know what else to do." He hiccupped, pain radiating down his left side that only made him cry harder. "I'm sorry, please. I'm sorry."

"Shhh, Pete," Tony palm smoothed the back of his head, tucking him into the crook of his neck. "It's okay. Jesus, nobody's mad at you. I'm not mad at you. I'm so glad your awake, kid. You have no idea. Jesus, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry," Peter sobbed.

"No more apologies," Tony said softly in his ear. "You were amazing, Peter. I'm so proud of you."

More tears rolled down Peter's cheeks and he sobbed helplessly into Tony's shoulder. He must have drifted off onto Tony's shoulder because when he opened his eyes again, he was on a soft couch nestled in a bunch of pillows. His eyes stung and he could feel how puffy they were. He resisted the urge to rub them and instead swung his feet onto the floor.

"Hold it right there," Tony voice filtered over his shoulder. "You are not off bed rest young man. I don't even want to know how you managed to get down the stairs."

"You are defying all expectations, Peter Parker."

Peter turned at the husky voice and found Strange standing behind him with Tony. The two of them walked around to his side of the couch and perched on the coffee table.

"How are you feeling?" Strange asked.

Peter pursed his lips. "Tired. Starving. Sore. Gross."

"We will grab you some food in a minute, kid," Tony said. "Honestly, on a scale from one to ten how much pain are you in?"

Peter bit his lip. "A seven."

"Do you know what happened?" Strange asked.

Peter swallowed loudly, dropping his gaze to his lap. He stared at his mutated hands and the black veins that spread up his arm. He hadn't known this is what would happen. He didn't realise that once his put the gauntlet on, the pain would nearly white out his vision, that it would sear into his very bones and that snapping his fingers would be nearly impossible. He didn't know that his left side would be severely damaged and broken and wrong.

All he had known that there was a swarm of aliens heading for him. He was alone, trapped and about to die and he did the only thing he could think of. He had shoved his hand into the gauntlet and snapped his fingers.

"I," Peter licked his lips again, voice barely coming out above a whisper. "I did something really stupid."

"You did something incredibly brave," Tony said sharply. "and something that stupid doesn't even begin to cover."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered, tears stinging his eyes again.

"You saved the world," Strange softly. "You stopped Thanos and returned all those who had been lost."

"You saved us, kid," Tony said.

"How – how long have I been asleep for?" Peter asked once he had regained control of himself once more.

"Nearly four months," Strange answered.

"We thought," Tony swallowed thickly. "We thought it had killed you. I thought- Jesus, kid I thought I had lost you again. But, by some bloody miracle you started breathing. Strange opened a portal and got you to a hospital and got you stabilised. Eventually we moved you here."

"Where is here?" Peter asked.

"It's home," Tony said.

Home. Peter liked the sound of that. It was best thing he had heard in a long time.

"My arm – will it always be like this?" Peter asked quietly.

"I don't believe so," Strange said. "This is a vast improvement from four months ago."

Peter blinked at his arm. "This is better?"

"Trust us kid. It's better," Tony winced and scrubbed a hand down his face.

Wincing at Tony's action, Peter averted his eyes again. He drew his arm in close, attempting to hide it behind a pillow but he hissed as the fabric brushed against his sensitive skin.

Strange cleared his throat and stood. "I'll find you something to eat. While we have been giving you nutrients and a liquid diet, I think something plain might be best for your stomach to start off with."

Peter swallowed as he was left with Tony and chanced a look at his mentor. He was surprised that Tony was staring at him with such emotion.

"I can't believe you're here, kid," Tony shook his head. "I thought I had honestly lost you again and it nearly killed me. You're my kid and I couldn't protect you."

"It wasn't your fault," Peter insisted. "I choose to be there. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

Tony let out a breath. "Oh kid, you are never a disappointment. You are the bravest kid I have ever met. What you did, I could never be mad at you for saving everyone. I just wish I could have saved my kid from this." He waved his hand at Peter's arm.

"Am I? You kid I mean?" Peter asked quietly. "You have Morgan now and-"

Peter was cut off by Tony lunging across and pulling him into a hug. "You're my kid. End of story. Morgan needs her big brother, I need you. Don't ever scare me like that again. I physically cannot cope with you losing you again."

"I love you," Peter mumbled against Tony's neck.

"I love you too."

Peter embraced Tony's warmth, sighing at the relief that, for now, everything was okay. That he had a place, a home and that he had saved the people who were most important to him.

Happy reading :)