Tony had known that using the stones would be, in a way, a ‘one way trip.’ Bruce had said it himself - no one could survive the effects of the stones other than the Hulk. Still, it hadn’t stopped him from trying because it had been their shot. One in fourteen million, as Strange had said. Five years ago Tony had known that he had saved him for a reason, and while at first he hadn’t understood it, it had all clicked when he saw the gauntlet and Thanos trying to reach for it.

It had been on him. He had to do it.

What comes after is all a blur; a painful blur that leaves him unable to even speak. His whole body feels like it’s burning, weighed down as if the suit weighs a few tons, but it all fades away as he finally loses consciousness.

The last thing he expects after that is to actually wake up. There are sounds, and voices that filter through, but it all feels like it’s too distant to be real. It’s muffled. He tries to make sense of it, but before he can figure it out he usually finds himself losing the battle with lucidity all over again.

Suddenly it all changes, though. It feels like another burst of white light floods him as he opens his eyes, and for a moment it’s hard to figure out if he’s still out on the field. If he still has the gauntlet in his hand. His right side still feels like it’s burning, and—

Where is he? What is this? Did he die? Is this—

“Mr. Stark?”

Peter’s voice is like an anchor, grounding him before his thoughts can get further away from him, and he turns slightly in his direction. It’s not much, everything hurts, but it’s something. He’s moving. He’s breathing, even if he can hardly believe it.

“Pete?” His voice sounds dry, rough from sleep and everything that has been happening since the snap. “Wh—... Where am I?”