Dependence

Chapter 22

 Peter was down in his dad's workshop, the both of them tinkering with different objects in a comfortable silence. He had started to feel more content as time passed, the weird spout of unwarranted nightmares was fizzling out and things were good. So why, he wondered, was he now seeing things? In the reflection of the metal object he was holding he saw the glimpse of a man and flipped around to find that no one was there. It wasn't the first time he had thought he'd seen the man, but he hadn't told anyone about it. He didn't need his family calling him crazy.

"Peter? Everything okay bud?" Tony asked. Peter looked at his father.

"Y-yeah. Sorry," he shook his head and Tony watched him for a moment.

"You know what, we've been down here for a while why don't we get the girls and go get dinner?" he asked. Peter nodded and set the tools down. Maybe he was just getting tired from being in the lab, fresh air and food sounded good.

"This isn't real." a baritone voice said. Peter flinched.

"What?" he asked, turning to his father as they stood on the elevator.

"I didn't say anything." he replied.

"Oh, I probably just heard something," Peter said, but he knew it was a voice. He knew what it said. He shook it off. He was just going crazy, no big deal or anything.

~~~

He and the rest of his family were laughing, smiling, teasing. It felt so nice to be there with all of them, having dinner, and talking about their days, yet it felt so foreign. It was so perfect. So incredibly perfect and something about that felt wrong to Peter, like it wasn't normal. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he spun around. A man was standing there, he was tall with black and grey hair, a red cape sat on his shoulder. This was the man Peter had been seeing, in the dreams and in real life.

"Peter, you have to wake up." he said. It seemed as if the other three in the room were frozen.

"I don't understand. Is this another dream?" he asked. It was weird. This felt more real than anything else going on. Like the last few weeks had all been the real dream and he was finally waking up.

"I'm not. I'm real. I'm sorry, but this- this is all a dream conjured up by the soul stone." he said. Peter shook his head as everything on Titan came flooding back.

"No. No, it- it's not. It's real, it has to be." he insisted.

"Peter." the man stepped forward and grabbed Peter's arm and suddenly it all came back.

"They- they hit her- she's dead, oh my God."

"Peyton was right! You were just using me! For Spiderman!"

"Hey, Peyton, just want to let you know I might not be home for a little while."

"But, the thing is, Peyton and I, we've already lost our mom, our step dad, Uncle Ben, and May. You're all we have left."

Peter gasped for air and suddenly he was no longer at a restaurant with his family but laying on hot red sand and looking up at a dark red sky. His body was in cased in the iron spider suit that suddenly felt too small to breathe in. He sat up and furiously wiped at the tears running down his face and tried to control his gasping. He did not need to have an anxiety attack right now.

"Why did you do that?" he asked looking up at Strange.

"I had to, it was the only way to even have a chance of getting out of here." he replied, sounding almost apologetic.

"No you didn't have to! I didn't want to leave I had everyone there! I could've stayed!" Peter shouted.

"It wasn't real, though. Your real father and sister are back on earth grieving for you Peter, it's not fair to them." suddenly Quill was in front of him and he looked around. It wasn't just him and strange, there was a whole group of people around him, some familiar and some not familiar. He wiped at his eyes again. Strange was right, he had people that needed him but waking up from that dream felt like losing his family all over again.

"O-okay. So you- you have a way to get us out of here?" he asked.

"Yes."