Stark saw Peter's gaze fall on the reactor in his chest. He levelled his head, continuing to stare at the ceiling, watching the flicker of light outside the window casting various shapes on the ceiling.
"If the issue with this reactor isn't resolved, you'll die, right?" Peter questioned him. "That's what Ethan told me."
"They always make a mountain out of a molehill. I'm fine, I... "
"You have no idea how it feels to witness your death through my Spider-sense," Peter said.
Stark detected a slight tremor in his voice.
"...The lab in the Stark Building is quite advanced, and I really like the atmosphere here. The interior decoration is also extravagant. I've never lived anywhere this nice."
"But more importantly, before this, no one has ever taught me such knowledge on building equipment, methods of experimentation. No one has ever stood next to me at the experimental table, assembling these parts and testing the finished products together...
"When my Spider-sense tells me that all of this is about to end, I absolutely cannot accept it..." Peter's voice trailed off to a whisper, the last syllable almost breaking as it hit the floor.
Stark closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing. He said, "What do you want me to say? To tell you in person that in one year plus three months, all of this might come to an end?"
In Stark's darkness, he began to recall those days so far gone that he could barely remember, searching for the faintest fragments within his memory.
The good times he once had with Howard.
On this very night, as he stumbled upon those fragments of memories, Stark finally admitted that it is nostalgia he's experiencing.
Tonight, his pain is more intense than any other night, making this longing even stronger.
Howard isn't the person he should be thinking about when he is in pain, as those good times would never return because his father is already dead.
Only now did Stark realize as he became a father from a son, that compared to having his child think of him during painful nights, any father would rather live long, keeping those good times from ever ending.
Stark felt a stronger desire to live than ever before—he did not want to become Howard, to become the person he despised the most.
He didn't want his child to be constantly reminded by a sudden death that those good times are forever past and never coming back.
Thus his child would be forced to forget, tear the happiest and brightest days of his life into shreds, hide them at the farthest corner of his memory, and deny their existence.
On this quiet night, nobody saw that as Stark fell asleep, his aging, wrinkled fingers clenched the bed rails, like how he did on the countless lonely nights, holding that model.
No one knew that in Peter's next dream, he saw the unfamiliar night sky again. Those lingering memories in his dream became clear. He heard two gunshots and saw a scattered strand of pearls.
In his faint dream, it seemed as if the last dream was back again. Peter saw another world, another father and son, who were walking towards the cosmos hand in hand.
He saw it, those good times that maybe not even the bat itself could find, behind that dark tide.
22600001-R: The big bat incident (end)