It had been strange showing up here after floating around on that dead ship for nearly a month with Nebula (who he still worried about, even though he knew, logically and chronologically, she'd be fine). It was strange not worrying about water or food or air and --
It was strange not having to mourn after a boy who'd turned into dust in his arms. Because he was right here. Being a typical teenager in a ghost hotel, of all the damn things.
Strange and weird, because Tony had had the excuse of sleeping for a good long time, but he was feeling better now. More energetic. Now he had to take the time to figure out just how to act around Peter. But at least there were things to work on -- ghosts be damned, no one or thing had ever stopped Tony being good with tech.
"Hey, kid," Tony greeted as he opened the door to his (And Richie's) room. "C'mon in."