Peter / Tony
"Easy," Tony said, and tried not to make it sound like he was talking to a wild animal or anything weird. He wasn't here to tame a horse -- just a spooked teenager who'd just gone through one of the roughest battles of his entire life. Tony hated that. Hated that he'd ever had to be pulled into the mess to begin with. Hated how that was on him, still. Peter had deserved better. "Take it easy." He looked like shit, but Tony was pretty well aware that Peter, so much like Steve, healed fast. Some sitting still would do him some good.
"Hi," he went on then. Because it was awkward and how could you really explain being alive to someone who knew that to be otherwise, anyway? "I'm Tony Stark. Obviously. And I'm from 2018. The thing you're thinking about? That -- I haven't lived that yet." He couldn't say lived through, because that wasn't the case. Tony was only too aware of his upcoming doom. He was surprisingly okay with it. "So here's the thing, the ride I'm about to take you on in explanation is batshit and it's going to sound fake and you're about two feet away from being in your own sick. My house is just that way," he thumbed behind him. "There's actual chairs and -- you know. Indoors. So. Maybe we should go there instead?"