Chapter Text
Peter Parker was a mess. There was dirt, blood, snot, and tears caked on him. They had just left Titan after the whole fiasco. Everyone was back, which had been jarring. And Thanos was dead. Well, as far as Peter knew, he was. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he felt sure of it. Tony, on the other hand, was even worse than he was- covered in dirt and soot. He looked as if he’d jumped into a burning building. For all Peter knew, he had. No one was telling him anything.
Everyone was absorbed with their own well-being or the well-being of their teammates and Peter wasn’t exactly part of the team, per se, he was a… a temporary Avenger. Tony had told him he was an Avenger and while he took it very seriously, he knew it had been in the rush of the moment and it wasn’t real. How could it have been? Someone like Peter wasn’t fit to be an Avenger. Not for real. Not after the ferry. Not after being a disappointment.
The team had checked him over quickly and determined he’d had nothing but superficial scratches and bruises, so they left him alone. Never mind that he’d basically broken down over Tony’s almost death. No, it wasn’t important. Someone had taken Tony. That was what mattered. He vaguely remembers someone telling him that it was all over and that he could finally go home- off this wretched planet. Then he was stepping through a portal with a bunch of other people. Heroes. Not just ordinary people.
On the other side of the portal was the compound medbay. Destroyed. Burned to the ground. Gone. And in its place stood the charred remains.
Suddenly, without his realization, he was rushed into a room in a nearby hospital, where he was more thoroughly checked out. The ride there was a blur. He had no idea how he’d gotten there. At the hospital, there was nothing majorly wrong with him, a couple of broken ribs and a sprained wrist was the worst of it. The doctors wrapped up both and left him with some fresh yet generic clothes. He was grateful for the change and took the fastest shower he’d ever taken before putting them on. The bathroom was full of steam when he got out and he was finally clean. He needed to see Tony. They hadn’t provided shoes and he didn’t have any—he vaguely wondered what had happened to his stuff. He probably left it on the bus—But they gave him a pair of white and grey socks which he slipped on before creeping out into the hallway. Doctors and nurses were bustling by, quickly going from room to room. He stepped up to the reception desk and spoke the first words he had since he had left titan.
“Mr. Stark, where is he? I need to see him.” He wheezed out. His voice was scratchy, and it hurt to speak. It was probably all the dust from that damn planet.
The woman just pointed to a waiting area where Pepper Potts, a man he’d only seen out on the battlefield—Peter knew this to be War Machine—and a little girl he’d never seen before, were sitting. Peter slowly walked over to the group. Ms. Potts was shushing the little girl in her arms who seemed to be softly crying. War Machine was out of his suit and had his head down in his hands. They all looked up when Peter walked through the doorway.
“Peter.” Ms. Potts breathed.
She stood up, still holding the crying child in one arm, and walked up to the boy. Setting down the little girl at her feet, the child pressed her back into Pepper’s legs looking fearful. The woman shockingly pulled the boy into a tight hug. Peter had never really known Ms. Potts; she was always working so he hardly ever saw her. This hug was surprising, to say the least.
“Ms. Potts?” He asked, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.
“Oh, my god. You’re back. He was right, you’re back. It really worked.” She breathed into his skin. “you’re alive.”
She broke their hug and looked at him wistfully, taking his hands into her own.
He blinked stupidly before breaking the silence. He cleared his throat.
“Um…Where’s Mr. Stark?”
Her expression turned sad yet firm.
“Honey, he’s in surgery. I’m not gonna lie to you, Peter, it’s bad. It’s really bad. They’ve already told us he wasn’t going to make it once, but you know Tony. He’s right back up again. He’s a fighter.”
She softened.
“Right now, all we can do is wait and hope he’ll be okay.”
Peter felt lost. His mentor was in surgery. Not that he hadn’t been in surgery before. Peter knew Mr. Stark was a fighter but seeing him almost die in front of him was difficult. And now he was dying again? Peter felt tears build up in his eyes but pushed them down. He wasn’t going to cry right now. He took a deep breath and felt the emotions recede like an ocean wave.
Ms. Potts pulled him into another hug. Softer this time. She pulled away again and the little girl by her feet whined. She was being squished!
Pepper laughed slightly at the sight. She picked up the child and led the boy to a chair between her and War Machine who was now resting elbows on his knees as his leg jumped anxiously. The man watched as Peter took a seat, nodding at him in greeting. Peter nodded back and the man went back to anxiously watching the clock in the corner of the waiting room.
The little girl climbed back into Ms. Potts’ lap and looked at Peter with a watery ferocious glare and in return, Peter gave her a look of confusion. Who even was this little girl? She stared him down with piercing brown eyes. Her tiny white teeth- wearing away at her thumbnail. She couldn’t have been older than four or five. But then again, Peter was no ‘child expert’. He had always been an only child and had no children of his own. He mused about having a child for a second. It would ruin his entire life for sure. No more Spider-Man, no more college dreams. He’d have to get a full-time job, drop out of Midtown. His thoughts were all over the place. He wondered how his friends were and hoped they had gotten off that bus safely.
Peter’s eyes drifted between the tiny girl and the clock. Mrs. Potts had been texting with her free hand then put away her phone, shifting the girl in her lap. The girl’s stare remained fixated on Peter.
He glanced at the clock. Then, looked back at the child. Her stare never faltered.
“Peter,”
Peter blinked and tore his eyes away from the girl to the woman who’d called his name.
“Peter, this is Morgan, my daughter. Morgan, can you say ‘hi’?”
Morgan took her finger out of her mouth.
“Hi…” she said unsurely.
“Hi, Morgan.” Replied peter. He tried to keep his tone friendly, even giving her a small smile. Ms. Potts didn’t have kids… But the little girl gave him the meanest glare he’s seen in a while. Ms. Potts didn’t seem to notice, and Peter dropped his smile awkwardly. He wondered distantly, what he’d done to deserve the look but refrained from asking.
Morgan stark was five years old, but she was smart. Smart just like her daddy was. She knew who Peter was. She’d seen his picture in their house before. She’d seen her daddy in tears over that picture once. She’d been looking for him to play dolls with because daddy was such a good pretender. He knew how to do all kinds of voices and when she played with her daddy, he never treated her like she was stupid. Not like other people did. They played potions, which he called simple chemistry and he helped her read her books and they played numbers together. Daddy said that it was called mathematics, but she had a hard time saying that word. She knew she was smart; he’d told her so. And he never lied to her.
So, when she snuck in and saw him in his lab crying, it shook her to the core. She’d never seen him cry before. Not until that picture came out. She was smart enough to know it wasn’t the picture that made her daddy sad, but the boy in the picture. And she vowed to herself from that day forward that she did not like that boy one bit. Not if he made her daddy cry. Obviously, this boy was bad news, and the next time she saw him he was gonna get—what the kids at school said—a knuckle sandwich.
Later, when she was coloring at the table and her mommy grabbed her and packed her into her car seat, speeding down the highway, she was rightfully afraid. Her mommy hadn’t said anything to her, opting to talk frantically into the phone about how ‘Tony was back, and Tony was in bad shape and she’s on her way to the hospital right now’. Morgan knew Tony actually meant daddy; she knew what a hospital was but ‘bad shape’? What did that mean? Daddy is in ‘bad shape’? It did not sound good. She hoped her daddy was okay.
He had said he was going to work this morning, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left. Now they were parked outside a very fancy hospital and mommy was pulling her out of her car seat. And then they were in the elevator and mommy didn’t want to put her down. She wasn’t letting her walk on her own like a big girl. Then they burst out of the elevator and the familiar smell of hospital burned her nose. Mommy asked for daddy at a desk and the lady behind it pointed to some chairs where Uncle Rhodey was sitting. The man stood up and rushed over to them.
“Pepper. Morgan.”
Mommy set her down. There was a set of giant Legos in the corner of the room.
“Go play, Morg.” Mommy had said, pushing her gently in the direction of the toys. Morgan knew there was something they weren’t telling her, and she looked back wearily as she obediently made her way to the corner.
Uncle Rhodey began to talk softly with her mommy.
“It’s not looking good, pep; they won’t tell me what’s happening. They just rushed past after telling me he was in surgery.” Morgan slowly put a green foam Lego on top of a yellow. She was listening in and trying not to show it.
“Oh, god. Surgery?” What is surgery?
“He didn’t look good out there, the snap really did a number on him. But, Pep, the kid’s back.”
Mommy put a hand over her mouth and Morgan watched out of the corner of her eye.
“How is he? Where is he?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.”
Morgan decided she didn’t want to play anymore and ran to her mother hugging her legs.
“Mommy,” she began.
“Where’s daddy?”
Then her mommy crouched down in front of her and took her hands in her own.
“Morgan… daddy is very…” she thought for a moment.
“Hurt. Right now. And he needs us to be brave. Do you think you can do that?”
Her mommy brushed her hands over her arms and to her horror, her mommy’s eyes began to form tears. As soon as the salty water dripped down her cheek, the little girl burst into tears. She threw herself into her mother’s arms and broke down into loud sobs.
Pepper stood up holding the girl close and wiped her own eyes. She needed to be strong for her daughter. She walked around the room, bouncing the child as if she were much smaller than five years old. Soon enough, the little girl’s tears slowed, and she chewed her thumbnail, a habit she’d gotten into after being told off by the other children for sucking her thumb at school. Pepper sat down next to Rhodey on the hard plastic chairs and waited.
They waited until a familiar boy walked into the room in just his socks. No shoes, Morgan noticed. What a weirdo.
“Peter.” Her mommy breathed. Then stood up and walked over to the boy and her mommy put her down on the floor. She rushed to grab the woman’s legs, drawing comfort from being close to her mother who had begun to hug the boy. Mommy let go of him and Morgan didn’t pay any attention to what they were talking about, still lost in her slowly dripping tears. When to her surprise, the boy, Peter’s face looked sad. Her mother drew him into a hug for a second time and Morgan whined in discomfort. Every time they hugged, she was squished.
After that, they were sitting again, and Morgan was staring at the boy. She looked at him closely. She knew him from somewhere… but where? She studied his face. He had chocolate brown eyes and round cheeks. She’d definitely seen him before.
Suddenly, it clicked. This was the boy from the picture in her daddy’s lab. The one daddy had cried over. The boy she swore she’d beat up for making her daddy sad.
He suddenly noticed her staring and looked at the thing on the wall, reading it. She wondered what it meant. Its clicking was the only sound in the room. He looked away sneaking glances at her from the corner of his eye when he thought she wasn’t looking. But she always was.
Then, suddenly, her mommy made her say ‘hi’ to him. But Morgan was mad and wasn’t afraid to show it. She gave him her meanest look and he looked taken aback. Mommy didn’t seem to notice, and she was glad. She would have gotten told off for being mean, especially to a stranger. The boy shifted uncomfortably before looking away from her again but this time, he didn’t look back at her again. She didn’t mind. Peter got the message that she didn’t like him and that was good enough for her.
Peter was uncomfortable. And he didn’t know where his phone was. That bothered him, he wanted to text May, Ned, or even MJ, not that she’d care. He sighed. He was sure there was a phone he could use somewhere. He stood up and walked to the receptionist, Ms. Potts’ questioning eyes followed him, but she made no move to get up.
“Is there a phone I could use?” The teen asked the woman behind the counter. She wordlessly pointed to a landline on the wall then went back to her computer, typing quickly.
Peter quietly thanked her and walked up to the phone, picking it up and punching in May’s telephone number. He was grateful he managed to remember what it was by heart.
“Hello?” Said his aunt may, unbothered.
“May?”
“Peter?” She whispered.
“Oh my god, Peter? Honey, is that you?” May sounded close to tears.
“Yeah, it’s me…” peter replied quietly.
“Peter…” she said.
To his horror, she began to cry.
“May?” He said, shaken. “Are you okay?”
Why was May crying like she hadn’t heard from him in a long time? He’d seen her this morning.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked, alarmed.
“Oh, God, Peter, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m so grateful you’re back.”
Back? Where had he gone? Mrs. Potts had said something similar earlier, hadn’t she? About his ‘being back’.
“I saw you this morning.” He replied, perplexed.
“What? Honey, no… it’s been five years since I last saw you. Five years… Five years since you went on that damn field trip. I thought you were dead. You have been dead, honey. There was a funeral and everything.” she sniffed. Five years? Dead? Funeral? What the hell was she talking about?
“What? No, I—I saw you this morning, May.”
“Peter, I’m so sorry, but that wasn’t this morning. It’s been five years since I’ve seen you.”
“May, you’re scaring me. It’s not funny.”
“Sweetheart, I wish this were a joke, but it’s 2023.”
There was no way. This was a joke. A cruel one.
Peter turned his eyes towards the nurses’ station where he had seen a calendar hung up. A kitten was clinging to a tree branch and the cliché “hang in there” was printed in cursive lettering. Ugly calendar. Under the picture in bold was September 2023. Peter gulped. The girl. Peter, this is Morgan, my daughter… Ms. Potts didn’t have kids… You’re back…
He shakily turned back to the phone.
“May, it’s 2023.”
“It’s 2023.” She agreed. Peter’s eyes watered, what had he missed?
“May…” he said suddenly overwhelmed.
“Oh, Peter, I wish I were there with you right now. But I have to go.” She said abruptly.
“You can’t be serious!” He said harshly.
He took a deep breath after May was quiet.
“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to lash out at you…” he tried.
“It’s okay, baby, I understand.”
“Mr. Stark is in surgery…” he changed the subject.
“They don’t know if he’s gonna make it.” He said shakily, his eyes watering.
May was quiet as peter tried to get a hold of himself. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and sniffed.
“Peter, baby, it’s gonna be okay. I know it is. Mr. Stark is nothing if not a stubborn bastard. He wouldn’t save the world, just to leave it.”
Peter nodded into the phone, his breath evening out.
“Honey, I’m so sorry, but I have to go now. They’re calling me at work.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll be okay, though?” She asked uncertainly.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be okay.” He replied, scrubbing his eyes again.
“Okay. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
“Right. I love you…” he said shakily.
She hung up. Peter stood there a moment, listening to the dial tone, before hanging up the phone himself.
He walked back to his chair where Morgan had fallen asleep in pepper’s lap and War Machine had his arms crossed over his chest. All they could do now was wait.