Peter blinks and suddenly he's sitting in a chair in a kitchen, a grey haired woman patting his hand. "Don't you worry darlin. You can have some of my fresh bread, and we'll call your mama and daddy, alright? Don't you worry."

He blinks again and the man is crouched in front of him, holding a phone, and looking even more worried. "Kid? Can you tell me your parents phone number?"

He thinks he tells him, but he isn't sure.

There's echoes of a conversation somewhere-

"-got him here, keep-"
"-need a hospital, dissociating-"
"-won't, maybe can't, answer questions-"
"Address is 224 Manhurst drive, yeah, right near-"

"Peter?"

He blinks.

Blinks again.

A face.

Blue eyes.

Pale skin.

Blonde hair.

He blinks.

She's talking. 

Forehead pinched.

Mouth moving quickly.

Then she's gone, pulled aside, and another face is there.

Dark eyes.

Dark hair.

Worried.

"Peter, kiddo please, please I need you to answer me- I need you to come back from wherever you are right now-"

He blinks.

He knows them.

Just-

Does he?

He would remember them, surely, he muses to himself.

Okay.

He can go away again.

It's nice when he doesn't know anything.

The man seems to panic, eyes wide as he talks loudly but Peter doesn't want to listen, doesn't want to be here so he goes.

He blinks and he's awake again.

The TV hummed in the background.

Quiet noises came from another room, along with the sound of a high voice.

He was laying on a couch, head resting against something soft and warm.

Gentle breathing came from behind him, and he rolled over to see his dad, head against the back of the couch, one arm draped across his chest, and the hand of the metal arm resting on Peter's head.

Peter lay there in silence for several minutes, breath syncing up with the gentle rise-and-fall of Tony's chest. 

Light footsteps came around the back of the couch, and Morgan peered into his face, expression calculating. "Mommy says when you wake up to tell her."

Something must show in his eyes, because she just shrugs nonchalantly. "I won't if you let me cuddle you. Daddy says my cuddles make everything better."

He nods, just barely, but it's all the permission she needs before she climbs up beside him, and curls into the small space between him and the couch back.

"Daddy was worried," she confided. "Mommy says it's cause he 'members you. And cause you were gone."

The news didn't come as actual news-

He knew it had happened, after the way his dad's voice had cracked when he begged Peter to come back to him.

Somehow it didn't spur any feeling in his chest.

He felt cold.

Like he'd never be warm again.

Minutes passed before footsteps hurried out of the kitchen, and around the couch.

Pepper, her voice a harried whisper.

"Morgan, what did I tell you about letting your brother rest-" a sharp breath. "Peter?"

Then she's there, eyes warm, and worried, and crinkled in a sad smile. "Hey Peter. Hey. You had us really worried, bud."

When he didn't respond, her smile fell. "O-Okay, Peter- I need you to answer me, yeah? Don't- don't zone out again."

So he nods, just to ease her mind, but then she shakes his dad's shoulder, the good one, and his dad is sitting up quickly, a sharp intake of breath, and then-

"Peter?"

And he knows- he knows that he has his dad back just from the way his voice catches on the name, and then he's pulled into an embrace, face pressed against his dad's shoulder.

Suddenly he's crying, harder than he's ever cried in his life, and he can't stop.

His dad just holds him, rocking back and forth, kissing the top of his head, and he thinks maybe his dad is crying too.

"There- there was blood? I thought-?" He hates the shakiness in his voice. "My hands, they were- there was blood, and I couldn't-"

Tony pulls him closer, tucking his son under his chin, and hushing him softly. "I know. It's okay, you're okay now. I'm- I'm sorry, Pete, I tried to remember you-" his voice breaks. "I missed you so much. So much."

The teen couldn't stop the sobs that shook his body, fingers curling into the fabric of his dad's shirt. "I didn't know where I was- I couldn't find you-"

Tony cradled his son gently, resting his cheek against Peter's hair. "I know. I'm never going to let you be lost again, okay? I love you so much. I love you."

And maybe it wasn't all okay now.

Maybe they can't fix this like they fixed the universe, with a snap, and maybe they can't fix this with magic.

But his dad's hug goes a long way towards putting all his broken pieces back together.

So maybe he isn't okay.

And maybe that is okay.

But he can be.

He will be.