IronDad/SpiderSon One-shots

Dream

Third Person POV: 
Word Count: 2,001

Peter was floating from dream to dream.

He rarely got nights like these. Nights where he would actually get dreams. No villains hiding in his mental walls. No victims to violent crimes staining his memory red. No fights. No war. Nothing. Nothing but pure bliss and happiness.

IIn this dream, Peter was running around the yard with Morgan. Every few seconds, Morgan would let out a squeal. It wasn't a squeal of fear. No. It was one of pure joy. It would quickly turn into a fit of laughter. She was on top of Peter's shoulders.

"I feel like I'm flying," she said before she started laughing again.

In dreams like these, Peter always knew that he was dreaming. The realisticness of it would have tricked him if it weren't for the haze that surrounded everything. Dreams reminded him of how he saw before he was bitten. The world felt hazy back then. Maybe his vision had gotten better. Maybe he just knew what was a dream or what was reality. That didn't really matter to him. He loved to dream.

"Kids! Time for dinner," Tony shouted. Peter turned and saw him standing on the porch, flinging a towel over his shoulder. He smiled at the two kids in the yard. Dream Tony was different in a couple of ways. To start, he didn't have his metal arm and his eye wasn't gray. There wasn't as much gray in his hair, either. It was closer in color to how it was before the snap. But, otherwise, Dream Tony almost replicated real Tony.

A grin formed on Peter's face as he did his best to look up at Morgan. "You ready," he said to Morgan. He reached up, grabbing Morgan from under her armpits. Quickly, he swung her down to the ground. She squealed again as her feet hit the ground. No sooner had Peter let go had she started running inside of the house. He just shook his head, following her at a walking place. He watched as Morgan jumped into her dad's outstretched arms and the two made it inside, Peter just a few steps behind them.

When they did make it inside, Pepper was setting food down onto an already set table. "Go wash your hands before you sit down," she said, looking up from setting what looked like a bowl of green beans down onto the table.

Tony set Morgan down onto the ground, who started making her way to the table. "Hey, little miss. Where do you think you're going," he asked as he blocked her way from the table.

"But my hands aren't even that dirty," she whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

A deep sigh left Tony's mouth, as he was about to start telling her why she had to wash her hands, but Peter stepped in before he could finish. "I'll race you to the bathroom. The first one at the sink and washing their hands is the winner."

Morgan turned quickly to Peter, a spark in her eye, before bolting towards the bathroom. Peter, of course, took a much slower pace. He knew that he could easily beat her. If he was actually putting in the effort, he would. But, he wasn't. He wanted her to win. She'd rub it in his face and call him slow, but he'd love every second of it. He'd love it because he loved her.

As expected, when he got to the bathroom, Morgan was already putting soap on her hands to watch them. She noticed Peter in the mirror behind her and turned to face him with a smile. "Hah! I beat you," she said as she started rubbing the soap on her hands. He just laughed a little, walking up beside her and putting soap on his hands to start scrubbing. When she started rinsing her hands, Peter put her hands over top of hers. "Hey! You're stealing my water!" She quickly put her hands over top of his.

It quickly turned into a game, the two of them fighting to have their hands on top of the others. Their laughter echoed on the bathroom walls and traveled down the hall. It felt surreal to Peter. He was reminded again that this was just a dream. Part of that made him sad, but the other part—the more prominent part—was grateful that he got a dream this special.