Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Afterlife

Spooktober.23

a/n: this oneshot is hopefully hella confusing. I tried to make the timing and repetition purposely wacky in order to better immerse readers into the (fictional version created by me) "afterlife" if that makes sense?? anyways. enjoy

Blue.

Peter saw blue; floating in the dark swirls of colour. He seemed weightless, but also incredibly heavy. The whole thing felt contradictory, like he shouldn't be in this place but he was nonetheless.

Where was he? He was tired.

Why was he here?

He couldn't remember anything. He felt like a person, surely. He felt so very human, floating in the blue. Thoughts were nothing, and time was nothing. Simply, there was what was and what is.

A faint light was far far away, and if he squinted he felt as though he could see it through the blue. It was as if you were looking at a light through many layers of blue silk. It was there, but faded.

Peter saw blue.

Blue.

Vast oceans of empty space, flowing around him in hazes and fogs. He seemed restless, like he was trying to rest but something was pulling him away. He was tired, his eyes wanted to droop.

There were echoes that were in the quietest of murmurs, rebounding around the room. But he didn't care to focus on what they said. He was tired, his eyes wanted to droop.

Why was he here again?

Where is here? This isn't home. Home?

Surely he asked that before. His brain seemed slow than the seconds that passed with every hour.

Peter slowly reached for the light like a plant would reach for life. He didn't feel like he was quite in his body, though. He was detached, some way, making his movements slow and surreal.

Peter saw blue.

Suddenly, there was the sense that something was very wrong.

'I'm not supposed to be here.'

Blue?

There was a sense of panic rising through him, and the mess of colour grew darker, the light growing dimmer, and everything flurried and melted in front of him.

He felt like he was forcefully pushed back, jolted away from the expanding shadowed cerulean, and he was slammed back into unconsciousness.

There was nothing.

He woke up slow. His chest was rising and falling as if he was still asleep, and his eyes blinked like they his eyelashes were coated in glue.

But he was alive.

There was the methodical beeping of his own heartbeat on the machine next to him, which rang in his ears.

Tony was scrolling through his phone across the room, sitting in a hospital room chair.

Peter closes his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as he remembers the strangeness of where he had been.

The next time he wakes up, there's no recollection of it ever happening.