Part One

One by one, everyone is starting to reappear after the defeat of Thanos. Everyone except Peter. Tony thinks the universe has some sick sense of humor to bring everyone back save the one person he would throw it all away for, but he's come to expect this to be his lot in life. Tony has it all. Except-

He tosses the rest of his drink back and stares at the news broadcast. Tearful, joyful reunions are playing, intersected with clips of interviews and praise for the Avengers, even those who, until a week ago, had been considered a possible threat.

Commercials play and the next program begins; it's a special on Rogers and Barnes. Tony throws his tumbler across the room and the glass and ice scatter across the floor.

His second visit to May goes much better than his first; she doesn't immediately slam the door in his face this time. Instead, she stares him in the eye for what feels like ages and Tony is rooted in the spot, frozen with the fear and guilt that is constantly swelling in his mind and his gut like a restless sea.

Usually he would have drowned it out with liquor by now. Not that it ever really works.

May finally steps aside and he follows her into the kitchen. They sit at the table. She doesn't offer any refreshments.

"What do you want, Mr. Stark?" she asks.

Tony doesn't know how to answer that question. He knows he shouldn't even be here, that he is the last person May wants to see. But he feels compelled to be here, to be near someone who is close to Peter. But now that he is here, it's too much. For the both of them. May wraps her arms around herself and stares off into the distance. Tony keeps his eyes on the table, studying the wood grain.

The weight of it all is intolerable and he's got to say something, anything. He's got to apologize, promise he'll bring him back. Promise he won't fuck up like this ever again but her phone rings and she excuses herself.

He can hear her crying and gets up to leave when a certain door catches his eye. He walks over and pushes it open.

Peter's room looks just as it had on the day he'd roped the young man, the child, into his problems. With one new addition- on his desk sits a framed photograph of the two of them. It had been taken on the way home from Germany. Peter's smile is wide and vibrant while Tony looks mildly amused, but distant.

He barely makes it down to his vehicle before the panic attack begins.

"We need to talk."

"You need to get out of my workshop."

"Tony. Please."

Tony doesn't turn from his work table, ignoring Steve and hoping he'll take the hint. The Avengers may officially have made up and reunited, but he doesn't give a shit.

"Can we please talk?" Steve tries again, voice soft and full of pain.

Tony tosses a tool to the table but doesn't turn around.

"How long are you going to keep shutting me out?"

"I know you don't understand big words, Cap," Tony finally responds, voice dripping with spite, "so unless you've suddenly become an expert in anything other than your own fucking agenda, I suggest you get out."

Steve is quiet for a moment. Then, "You can't keep this up," he nearly whispers. "You've got to eat. You've got to get out of this room and rest. Bruce-"

"I've heard it all. He doesn't understand. None of you do. I'll figure it out myself. Stephen saw-"

"Stephen saw a possible, not a definitive future," Steve snaps. "You think running yourself into the ground is the answer? You think this is how you'll bring him back?"

"I don't abandon my friends," Tony snarls.

"Taking care of yourself doesn't mean you're abandoning him. How do you expect to accomplish anything if you don't look after yourself, Tony?"

Tony laughs, hollow and dark. "I think we're done here, Rogers. Get the hell out."

"You look like shit," Stephen says, taking a sip from his teacup.

Tony isn't surprised. He's been holed up in his workshop for weeks. He can feel how close he is to a solution, but he keeps hitting dead end after dead end, almost making a break through only to find that he's right back to where he started.

"I'm close," Tony mutters, rubbing at his tired eyes.

"You smell," Stephen corrects. "Get up." Before he can argue, they're in Tony's private quarters. Stephen takes a seat by the window and takes another sip of his tea.

"Make yourself presentable. I've got information."

"What-"

"I'm absolutely certain I would be able to smell you from the astral plane. For God's sake, man. Go take a shower."

"I need-"

"Peter needs you at your best," Stephen says firmly. "Now take a shower. And shave. You look like a sad, dirty yeti."

"It's more varied than we originally thought," Tony mutters, reading through the files Stephen has brought him. It's information on several of the people who had been brought back from the Soul Stone. He already knew from the Avengers who had been taken and brought back that everyone experienced something different- the reports from the Avengers all stated that some had felt as if they had only been gone a few hours while others claimed a few days. Then others, such as T'Challa, claimed to have hardly noticed any time pass at all. And these new reports, gathered from all over the world, showed that some people had felt weeks pass and in rare cases even years. And physical examinations were backing it up.

Tony starts to pace and has FRIDAY running all sorts of algorithms, trying to make sense of this new information.

"People are still appearing, Tony," Stephen adds. "Just yesterday, a man from Sussex finally came back. Said he'd only been gone an hour."

Tony nods, but he's only half listening.

"He's going to come back," Stephen says after a few minutes have passed.

"I know," Tony says, not looking away from his work. "I'm going to bring him back."

Another month passes. Six more people return in that time but none of them are Peter.

Tony keeps working and regularly sends out Iron Men to search the world over and downs a bottle of whiskey.