Harry was gone - Harry was gone - and Peter had to find him. The image of Harry's study, completely smashed, glass everywhere, crunching underfoot as he slowly made his way into the room, horrified, furniture overturned - it was seared into his brain. This was no accident - Harry had been taken. Who would do this? Was it someone after Oscorp? Had someone figured out the connection between Spiderman and Harry? The last one ran his blood cold, every horrible thing that had ever happened because of him swelling up in his mind and choking him.
Peter had, of course, flown into a frenzy to track down whoever had taken his friend, and shockingly, it didn't take that long. Less than fourteen hours after he'd discovered the scene at Harry's mansion found Peter bursting into the hideout and kicking the crap out of everyone he found there. He webbed them all up tight and rushed to Harry's side - Harry, who seemed...fine. He wasn't even restrained, laying on this strange gurney-esque table. He was...asleep? Unconscious?
But there's no sign of injury, and try as he might, Peter can't wake him.
It's been three days since then, and Peter's starting to spiral into a panic. He just doesn't know what to do anymore, he's tried everything. What if Harry...never woke up?
"You have to help me," Peter pleaded, bloody gash still sluggishly healing on his cheek, hair in wild disarray. Harry dangles limp from his arms, head tucked against Peter's chest. He looks peaceful like this, even when Peter feels anything but. He's smiled, once or twice, but other than that, he hasn't even moved.
Dr. Strange regarded him stonily for a moment. "What makes you think it's magical?"
"Magical or not, you're a doctor." Peter insists, and after another tense moment, Strange admits him into the Sanctum.
Two hours of weird humming and the sizzle of Strange's magic through the air (and one scalding cup of Wong's tea) later finds Peter and Strange standing over Harry. "Spit it out, Doc."
"He's in the Sleep." Strange informs him, as if that makes any sense whatsoever. Peter stares, and Strange sighs, a little of the magical-mister-doctor act slipping. "This was an attack of magical nature. They've put him in a dream world."
"What does that mean? Is he okay?" Peter demands, and Strange holds up a hand peaceably to stop him. Peter is practically vibrating with the need to do something, the need to fix this. The need to see Harry, smiling at him again.
"He's fine. But he won't wake up on his own, and I can't undo what's been done." Strange regards him again for a minute, and Peter can't help but feel like he's being sized up. "It's much harder to reverse an enchantment than it is to break it according to its own rules."
"Well how do we do that? Break it, I mean?" Peter's gaze flickers down to Harry's sleeping face - he thinks he sees the curl of a smile at the edge of his mouth, but he could be imagining it. God, please wake up. "Why would someone put him to sleep anyway?"
"Not to sleep. The Sleep." Strange corrects, swirling golden patterns in the air. "To feed off his life energy. And perhaps they thought, even if you found him, you wouldn't have any way of waking him without another magic user to help you."
"You still haven't told me what the hell is going on." Peter points out, and Strange sighs, sounding put-upon.
"They put him in The Sleep, which creates a dream world - but it's his dream world. The greatest, most delightful fantasy his mind can imagine, a place where he's happy. Truly happy. To wake him, you have to convince him that it isn't real - but even then, why would he want to leave? He has to believe the real world is worth coming back to. He has to do it - we can't just pull him out of it."
"Okay." Peter says slowly, processing this. Super fucking weird, but this is his life, he's seen weirder. He can't help but wonder what Harry's dream world looks like, though. His greatest fantasy? "Okay, I can do that."
Strange gives him a look that tells him it's probably going to be harder than it sounds, but this is Harry. His best friend - what other choice does he have? Of course he's going to try and help him. "You get one shot. That's it. If he rejects you, his mind is closed to us forever."
"You couldn't have mentioned that part upfront? Jesus Christ." Peter runs a hand manically through his hair. "I have to help him, Doc. Please. I have to get him back I - help me do that."
***
Peter stares.
When Dr. Strange first started his mumbo jumbo, it had felt like his brain was being covered in a thick, woolen blanket, pushing him down, down down. He let it, allowed it to push him there, until he felt - well, he didn't quite know how to describe it, but he knew immediately that it was Harry. It wasn't easy, as Strange had warned him, cutting through the Sleep to allow himself in; but Peter's willpower combined with Strange's magic was like a spear, pointed and true.
And now, here he was, the world of Harry's fantasy swirling around him, suddenly. His presence disrupted it, made parts of it skip - all the other patrons of this...restaurant? they were in, they disappeared, the background noise dropping down to the low crackle of a fire in the corner. Peter's surprised, though - it definitely feels real, even if it doesn't sound it.
Peter zeroes in on Harry. He's here - but he's also there. Kissing his best friend. "Harry."
Peter stares.
Harry jumps up out of his seat, chair landing with a muted thud (too muted for the hardwood floor they're standing on, more proof to Peter's enhanced senses that this isn't real, isn't real, but Harry is - ), clearly shocked.
Well, that makes two of them. His greatest fantasy. Look, Peter can be dense, but walking in on the two of them lip-locked was pretty obvious.
"Harry." Peter says again, mouth feeling dry, and he wavers as he takes a step forward. He doesn't want to freak him out, especially since Harry probably believes the Peter next to him is real. "Harry it - it's me. It's Peter. I know this is - I know this is a lot, right now, but I need you to listen to me. This is - "
"Harry," The other Peter pipes up, tugging on Harry's hand, which he still has encased in his own grip. Peter knows he shouldn't be mad, that this is just Harry's brain fighting against him (like Strange said it would), but a flare of irritation rises through him. "Are you okay? What's wrong, baby?"
"I'm not a hallucination." Peter cuts in again, taking a few quick, panicked steps forward. He couldn't let the other Peter convince Harry he was just imagining Peter, or he might be pushed out. "I'm not, I'm not I swear. Please, listen to me. Harry?"
no subject
Peter had, of course, flown into a frenzy to track down whoever had taken his friend, and shockingly, it didn't take that long. Less than fourteen hours after he'd discovered the scene at Harry's mansion found Peter bursting into the hideout and kicking the crap out of everyone he found there. He webbed them all up tight and rushed to Harry's side - Harry, who seemed...fine. He wasn't even restrained, laying on this strange gurney-esque table. He was...asleep? Unconscious?
But there's no sign of injury, and try as he might, Peter can't wake him.
It's been three days since then, and Peter's starting to spiral into a panic. He just doesn't know what to do anymore, he's tried everything. What if Harry...never woke up?
"You have to help me," Peter pleaded, bloody gash still sluggishly healing on his cheek, hair in wild disarray. Harry dangles limp from his arms, head tucked against Peter's chest. He looks peaceful like this, even when Peter feels anything but. He's smiled, once or twice, but other than that, he hasn't even moved.
Dr. Strange regarded him stonily for a moment. "What makes you think it's magical?"
"Magical or not, you're a doctor." Peter insists, and after another tense moment, Strange admits him into the Sanctum.
Two hours of weird humming and the sizzle of Strange's magic through the air (and one scalding cup of Wong's tea) later finds Peter and Strange standing over Harry. "Spit it out, Doc."
"He's in the Sleep." Strange informs him, as if that makes any sense whatsoever. Peter stares, and Strange sighs, a little of the magical-mister-doctor act slipping. "This was an attack of magical nature. They've put him in a dream world."
"What does that mean? Is he okay?" Peter demands, and Strange holds up a hand peaceably to stop him. Peter is practically vibrating with the need to do something, the need to fix this. The need to see Harry, smiling at him again.
"He's fine. But he won't wake up on his own, and I can't undo what's been done." Strange regards him again for a minute, and Peter can't help but feel like he's being sized up. "It's much harder to reverse an enchantment than it is to break it according to its own rules."
"Well how do we do that? Break it, I mean?" Peter's gaze flickers down to Harry's sleeping face - he thinks he sees the curl of a smile at the edge of his mouth, but he could be imagining it. God, please wake up. "Why would someone put him to sleep anyway?"
"Not to sleep. The Sleep." Strange corrects, swirling golden patterns in the air. "To feed off his life energy. And perhaps they thought, even if you found him, you wouldn't have any way of waking him without another magic user to help you."
"You still haven't told me what the hell is going on." Peter points out, and Strange sighs, sounding put-upon.
"They put him in The Sleep, which creates a dream world - but it's his dream world. The greatest, most delightful fantasy his mind can imagine, a place where he's happy. Truly happy. To wake him, you have to convince him that it isn't real - but even then, why would he want to leave? He has to believe the real world is worth coming back to. He has to do it - we can't just pull him out of it."
"Okay." Peter says slowly, processing this. Super fucking weird, but this is his life, he's seen weirder. He can't help but wonder what Harry's dream world looks like, though. His greatest fantasy? "Okay, I can do that."
Strange gives him a look that tells him it's probably going to be harder than it sounds, but this is Harry. His best friend - what other choice does he have? Of course he's going to try and help him. "You get one shot. That's it. If he rejects you, his mind is closed to us forever."
"You couldn't have mentioned that part upfront? Jesus Christ." Peter runs a hand manically through his hair. "I have to help him, Doc. Please. I have to get him back I - help me do that."
***
Peter stares.
When Dr. Strange first started his mumbo jumbo, it had felt like his brain was being covered in a thick, woolen blanket, pushing him down, down down. He let it, allowed it to push him there, until he felt - well, he didn't quite know how to describe it, but he knew immediately that it was Harry. It wasn't easy, as Strange had warned him, cutting through the Sleep to allow himself in; but Peter's willpower combined with Strange's magic was like a spear, pointed and true.
And now, here he was, the world of Harry's fantasy swirling around him, suddenly. His presence disrupted it, made parts of it skip - all the other patrons of this...restaurant? they were in, they disappeared, the background noise dropping down to the low crackle of a fire in the corner. Peter's surprised, though - it definitely feels real, even if it doesn't sound it.
Peter zeroes in on Harry. He's here - but he's also there. Kissing his best friend. "Harry."
Peter stares.
Harry jumps up out of his seat, chair landing with a muted thud (too muted for the hardwood floor they're standing on, more proof to Peter's enhanced senses that this isn't real, isn't real, but Harry is - ), clearly shocked.
Well, that makes two of them. His greatest fantasy. Look, Peter can be dense, but walking in on the two of them lip-locked was pretty obvious.
"Harry." Peter says again, mouth feeling dry, and he wavers as he takes a step forward. He doesn't want to freak him out, especially since Harry probably believes the Peter next to him is real. "Harry it - it's me. It's Peter. I know this is - I know this is a lot, right now, but I need you to listen to me. This is - "
"Harry," The other Peter pipes up, tugging on Harry's hand, which he still has encased in his own grip. Peter knows he shouldn't be mad, that this is just Harry's brain fighting against him (like Strange said it would), but a flare of irritation rises through him. "Are you okay? What's wrong, baby?"
"I'm not a hallucination." Peter cuts in again, taking a few quick, panicked steps forward. He couldn't let the other Peter convince Harry he was just imagining Peter, or he might be pushed out. "I'm not, I'm not I swear. Please, listen to me. Harry?"