Five years since the battle on Titan. Five years since the snap. Five years since everything turned to dust. Five years and Tony has only done basic repairs to his suit. The world is still out there, of course, and the people—half of them, anyway—go on with their business as usual. Not Tony, though. Tony is stuck. He can't move, can barely even breathe at times. He hardly sleeps anymore, haunted as he is by the past and the future that will never come.
"There was no other way." Strange's last words hold no more comfort now than they had then.
Maybe the wizard had been a fool with his magic and visions and all-powerful Time Stone that he never used. Why even have such a fantastical tool if you kept it hidden away? One of the greatest weapons Tony had ever heard of hung around Dr. Strange's neck and he never thought to use it against the greatest threat the world—no—the universe had ever known? Foolish. And Strange isn't even around now to see the mess he'd left behind.
Five years and the world keeps on turning. By the grace of some heavenly entity—Tony can't think to call it God, not when there are so many gods walking around these days—Pepper survived the culling and continues running Stark Industries in Tony's stead. It's a miraculous thing. Tony was never great at running the company. He's good at the parties, the interviews, the face time, or at least he had been when his heart was in it, but the day-to-day business meetings and paperwork were always better left in Ms. Potts' more capable hands.
Pepper still comes to visit Tony, locked away in his tower a la Howard Hughes. In the beginning, she came every day. Now she only comes by every week or so. Tony doesn't mind. She reads him a status report, which he pretends to be interested in, and he signs the necessary paperwork. As she leaves she smooths his greying, shaggy hair out of his eyes and brushes her lips ever so gently against his creased forehead.
"I'll see you soon," she promises as always. "Get some sleep."
Tony's constant companion is the ghost of the boy he lost. Peter should be halfway through college by now: student by day, Avenger by night. He was much better at it than Tony had ever been. At sixteen, Peter was more focused than Tony was at twice that age. He was definitely going places. Maybe he would've eventually taken over as leader of The Avengers, or whatever they'd be called in the future. But now Peter is a memory, a painful hole in Tony's heart that neither time nor alcohol can fill.
Tony wakes up with a start. He isn't in his bed. It isn't the first time he's fallen asleep on the couch in front of the flickering wall of televisions. With each of the twelve screens tuned to a different channel, there is usually enough white noise to drown out Tony's racing thoughts.
He rubs his eyes and wonders what it was that woke him. Usually, it's a dream that he's back on Titan, feeling the weight of the novice superhero slumping against him briefly before the boy fades to ashes. His final words, a needless apology, linger like smoke in the air.
This time Tony was awakened by something on the televisions. Though they're all on different stations, it seems that one news story has the whole world's attention. Now it has Tony's. A blur of red and blue flashes across the various screens.
'How is this possible?' Tony thinks. He pinches himself in case he is still dreaming.
The voices of the news reporters pop in and out of his consciousness, "...the beloved web-slinger appears to have returned after a nearly five-year hiatus...not seen since the infamous Tragedy nearly five years ago…New York has missed the charming hometown hero…now that Spider-Man has…Spider-Man…Spider-Man...Spider-Man…"
The images are too blurry to make out the details of the costume, but who else could possibly be swinging from building to building? Who else has the formula to shoot ropes of fine, silvery webbing? It has to be that same young boy, the one who had turned to ash in Tony's bloody hands on the wreckage of that ruined planet.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.! Get Director Fury on the line!" Tony speaks without thinking. "Tell him to—"
A feminine voice interjects. "It's F.R.I.D.A.Y., sir. J.A.R.V.I.S. was destroyed several years ago. Dr. Banner and yourself used his programming to—"
"Yes! F.R.I.D.A.Y.! Of course! That's what I meant," Tony rambles, not wanting to remember what had become of his old A.I. friend or the associated events. "Get ahold of whoever is running S.H.I.E.L.D. and tell them I want a meeting. Now!"
"Of course, Mr. Stark," F.R.I.D.A.Y. complies.
The programmed voice is especially cheery for an A.I. Perhaps she is happy to finally have something meaningful to do. A few days after returning home from Titan, Tony had screamed at the disembodied voice after she asked if he needed anything. In a fit of rage, he'd told the computer not to speak unless he expressly called her by name.
"Mr. Stark?" The automated voice sounds hesitant. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to voicemail. Director Mackenzie and his team are off-world. Shall I leave a message?"
"No," Tony sighs. "I'll go myself. Prepare the Mark L."
"Yes, sir," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies with renewed enthusiasm. "I've also taken the liberty to turn on the shower for you."
Tony sniffs his shirt. His nose wrinkles in disgust.
"Probably a good idea," he agrees.
One shower and a half hour later, Iron Man is flying the four-mile trip from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Since most of the recent Spider-Man sightings were within a few blocks, Iron Man decides to start his search there.
Using the infrared filter in his helmet, Tony locks onto the chemical formulation of spider silk and scans the neighborhood below him. A rough spider's web design begins to form. There is one particular apartment building at the very center. Iron Man sets down on the adjacent building to wait for signs of the younger superhero.
He doesn't have to wait long.
Pretty soon after Iron Man's arrival, several teenagers enter the building together, apparently on their way home from school. Peter Parker is not among them. That isn't surprising, as Peter would be well into college ny now.
Tony's heart flutters with excitement at the idea of finding the boy miraculously alive after all this time. There is a twinge of anger at having been left in the dark for the last five years, but there has to be a logical explanation. Tony could be mad at Peter after they've had heir long-awaited reunion.
Just minutes after the teenagers went inside, a window on the eleventh floor opens and Spider-Man flies out into the alley. He shoots a web just in time to catch himself from slamming into the dirty pavement below. He is whistling a song Tony doesn't know as he swings between the buildings.
Anticipating that the boy's movements will take him left, Iron Man dives down in that direction. He steadies himself with ease and floats as a sentinel right in the middle of Spider-Man's path.
Caught off-guard, Spider-Man lets out a surprised shriek and quickly shoots an extra web to stop himself from crashing into the metal man.
"Iron Man! Holy crap!" Spider-Man says, his voice strangled and pitchy. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you, Parker," Iron Man replies, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed you so much. Where have you been?"
"Who's Parker?" Spider-Man says in a confused voice.
Iron Man's faceplate pops open with a WHOOSH!, revealing, his annoyed face.
"Parker, I swear to God. You are the most infuriating… if I have to… Take off your mask, now!" Tony demands.
"What? No!" Spider-Man objects. "Secret identity, remember?"
"Take it off or I'll take it off for you." Tony raises his hand to point a repulsor at Spider-Man's chest.
"Okay, geeze. Take it easy, man," Spider-Man says dumbfounded.
He pulls his mask off to reveal a face entirely unfamiliar to Tony. The boy is around the right age and definitely has Spider-Man's powers, but that's where the similarities end.
"Hi," the boy says, reaching out a hand for Tony to shake. "I'm Miles."