Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone grieves in their own separate ways. During the fight against Thanos, they lost a lot of friends. Some hit them hard, others harder than others. For Steve Rogers, the hardest that hit was Tony Stark.

Although they've had a rocky past, he still cared for the genius billionaire playboy. He considered him a friend. During hard times when they lived in the tower together, he would go to Tony. He'd always have Steve's back. He, of course, fucked it up. Still, after all this time Steve still believed he was right and Tony was wrong. He hated himself for thinking that now. If he had just listened, he would've gotten more time with the one of the best men he's known.

When Tony sacrificed himself for Peter, Steve finally realized that he was wrong about Stark this entire time. He's not some selfish drunk, he cares for others. He would rather die than let a kid that he considered his own son die.

The broken team was in various areas of the Avengers HQ. Steve sat in Tony's room, seeing how bland it was. For a man who was so exciting and unique, he had such an empty room. It only held the necessities, like a bed, dresser, desk, and nightstand. The walls were painted the most unoriginal shade of red. Not a dark red, not a light red, just...red.

The same shade of red that Steve's damp eyes were.

His mind kept running through moments he had with Tony. How he freaked out when he saw Steve with a beard, how--while they were eating Schwarma after the New York Incident--Steve fell asleep on the table, how they'd talk to each other for hours in the Tower before Ultron. He wish he could've cherished those moments while they were happening.

Steve fell back into Tony's bed. He stared at the exceptionally boring white ceiling, his mind racing. If he had just saw what Tony was doing one second before the blow landed, he could've stopped him. The world could've kept the hero that Tony Stark was. He could've sacrificed himself, the world could have Tony Stark. Steve's the wanted man, the man who was supposed to die back in the 40's; no one would mind him being gone. They probably would've expected it to happen. No one expected Tony to kill himself for someone else. They would always call him selfish; narcissistic; egotistical. Not selfless.

Steve pulled out his cell phone that Stark gave him. At least he still had this. A present from Stark as a Christmas present. He even helped Steve learn to use it properly. Tony would laugh when Steve angrily smashed his fingers on the keys, thinking that if you hit it hard enough, the letters would capitalize. The first picture he ever took on the phone was Tony awkwardly standing in front of the Avengers Christmas tree. Steve made him stand there so the first picture on his new phone would be the man who got him the phone.

When him and the other Rogue Avengers went on the run, Sam kept telling him he had to get rid of the phone. They'd get tracked down if he kept it. However, Steve couldn't muster up the courage to throw it out. He had no idea why he couldn't just toss the phone; he rarely even used it. It only had about four pictures and two songs on there. But he kept it anyways.

As he scrolled through the phone, he saw one notification on the green Phone app. He hasn't gotten a single notification on this thing in so long that he was genuinely confused. He would've ignored it, but out of curiosity, he went to check it out.

As soon as he saw the voicemail banner, his breath got caught in his throat.

1 Voicemail: Tony Stark

What could it say? Why would Tony wait until now to call Steve? Why didn't Steve answer? More tears streamed down his face. He wish he answered the call. That probably would've been the last time Steve talked to Tony.

His finger hovered over the "Speaker" option. He knew he'd cry more than he already is, and it would put him and even worse mood, but he just can't ignore it. It's Tony Stark's last known words. Yeah, he said some things to Peter, but the kid has been mute since everyone returned to Earth. He won't say a thing to any of the Avengers or his friends; won't even put the suit back on. The last thing he said was when he announced he wouldn't put the suit back on:

"If this high-tech suit couldn't save Mr. Stark, then how is it supposed to protect New York City?"

Everyone was silent after that. Because they all felt the same, with their skills and training and abilities. They all related to the sixteen year old kid who's seen more tragedy than a kid should see.

With a slight hesitation, Steve pressed the speaker button. Tony's awkward laughs rang throughout the room and even more tears streamed down Steve's face, if that was even possible.

"Uh, hey Steve. It's Tony. Well, you obviously know that, that is if you figured out caller ID. You did figure out caller ID, right? Whatever, don't answer that. This is a voicemail, don't answer the voicemail."

Steve chuckled; of course Stark would somehow make a joke right before a serious battle.

"So, if you're listening to this, I'm most likely dead. If I had lived I would've hacked into your phone and deleted this. Also, I'm taking a big risk because I don't even know if you still have this. I doubt you would, since you went on the run a while back. You probably had to toss it out the window of a moving car like those "on the run" movies or whatever. Anyways, I just...I guess I wanted to say some final words? I don't really know. See, my whole childhood, I was constantly compared to you. I actually hated you when I was a kid, not gonna lie. You saw the good side of my father, I saw the bad side. He didn't really care about me, he spent most of his time looking for you. He spent years searching for you. So it's really ironic that we were put on a team together. Listen, I don't really, uh, know where I'm going with this? So just, like, hold on I guess."

A sigh could be heard from the phone. It broke Steve that Tony couldn't have the best childhood just because Steve was stuck in ice. His father spent his life looking for him, and not caring about his own damn son.

"I guess I'm trying to say...a lot of the time, you and a bunch of other people treated me like shit. Not a high school bully problem kind of way, but, everyone constantly called me selfish. I didn't speak up, because, well, I didn't want to argue about anything. I lost so much sleep from building armors because, when I would build my armors, they'd help me get away from the thoughts that I had often. I couldn't even escape into my own fucking dreams because they'd all turn into nightmares of either New York or all the Avengers yelling at me that I wouldn't die to save someone else. And you causing that whole dramatic fight between us when you could've easily handed yourself in fucking broke me. I would've made sure Bucky was safe, out of harms way. I would've made sure no one arrested him for what he did. Even after I found he killed my..."

Tony's voice drifted off at the end. Steve could hear a distant muffled sob. When he returned to the phone, he sniffled and continued.

"I know it wasn't his fault. I was just...mad at the moment I guess? Fuck, I wish I handled it better. If I didn't try to literally kill him you probably wouldn't have gone undercover. This whole Thanos mess has made me rethink, a lot. I used to always blame myself for everything, even if it obviously wasn't my fault. Now that we're about to go into this world changing battle, I realized that most of the things that have happened in the past aren't my fault. People shitting on me for "knowingly" selling weapons to terrorists, even though I stated time and time again that I had zero fucking idea. Everyone automatically blaming me for Ultron, when it was Wanda who showed me the vision that triggered my mind into making a world protector. Everyone blaming me for Ultron, even though Bruce also created him alongside me. People even had the fucking audacity to blame me for the Avengers separating. No, that wasn't my fault. That was your fault. I know you're grieving over me right now but honestly, fuck it. You tore us apart. You dramatically fucked up everything. Because of you and your team retaliating, Rhodey became fucking paralyzed. And yet, people blamed me. They blamed me so much for every fucking thing that I believed them. Not anymore. Yes, some things are my fault, but not every small inconvenience."

Tony's tone shifted from sad to angry in a heartbeat. Steve sat up on the edge of Tony's bed, staring into the wall adjacent to him. He caused that man so much pain that it literally and figuratively broke him. Steve's current self guilt grew tenfold, that it made him not even cry. He had no tears left.

"Sorry for that, uh, outburst. I went to a therapist once, she told me I try to cope by cracking jokes? Funny how almost everything I say is a joke or some sarcastic comment. However I think I've only made a single joke through this. Because I'm not coping, I'm finally telling someone how I feel, even if it's after I'm dead. Now that I've addressed the huge ass elephant in the room, I'm gonna give you some wise words of wisdom. Before I was Iron Man, I was the player Tony Stark. I didn't really care about anything, I got drunk often, had sex with tons of people and didn't care to contact them later. I was a huge asshole. After I was kidnapped and tortured and forced to build something that I wound up not even building, I changed. Because of one man. He died so I could live, so I could make it out and make sure that my weapons got out of the bad guys hands. He knew that I would do something about it because he saw me change. After then, I realized that I have to treasure every day, no matter how shitty it was. So that's what you have to do. You can't just get stuck because I died. Sure, you can grieve, but don't stop your entire life for years because of me. Although, why would you? Whatever, nevermind...I...I cared about you, Steve. I'm sorry if it didn't really seem like it but I did care about you. I'm making this while I'm still alive, what am I saying, I do care about you. I'm the one who lead the government away from you and the others. I made sure no one found out that Bucky was at Wakanda. So, you're welcome for that. Anyways, uh, fuck...yeah...okay...so, I've gotta jet in five minutes. I have so much to say but I don't have enough time. Fuck."

Steve knew the voicemail was coming to an end, and his tears returned. He knew this would be the last thing he'd hear from Stark, ever, and he felt a pang of longing. He longed for more time with Tony. If that purple titan had just not chased after universal power, Tony would still be here. He would've deleted the voicemail so no one would have heard it. But he'd also keep carrying all that blame and guilt on his shoulders, would keep letting everyone call him selfish. Death was Tony's only escape from all the pain and suffering he's had to endure. Steve now felt guilty for wishing Tony was here with him, because that means that Tony would still be broken as ever.

"Listen, I don't say this to most people. I love you. You're one of the closest things I have to family. And saying all these things...it just really fucking hurts, but it needed to be said. But this isn't exactly a goodbye, I guess. Goodbye's are too painful; you've been pretty shitty, but having to hear a forever goodbye? That's cruel. So, uh, I guess this is a see you later. Bye, Steve. Please...you've been gifted with this extra time on Earth. Don't waste it...don't waste your life, Steve."

His voice cracked towards the end, and the voicemail ended. Steve sat there for so long. He couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours, but he didn't care. He caused Tony so much pain. He dared call him selfish when he's the most selfless person he knows--knew.

After then, Steve kept the phone. Even after years and years of other phones, he kept that one. The voicemail still sat in there. He'd listen to it sometimes. Steve found out a way to download the voicemail to a disk incase the phone got ruined or wrecked, even though it never did. He treasured the phone Stark gave him.

The background of the phone was the picture of Tony awkwardly standing in front of the Avengers Christmas tree.

Steve knew that Tony sent a voicemail like his to Peter. He could simply tell by Peter's attitude change. No one else received a voicemail, however. Just Steve and Peter. They knew what it meant.

During Peter's grieving process, Steve was there every step of the way. He knew Tony was like a father to Peter, and, even though he knew he could never replace Stark, he was there for him. Because that's what Tony would've wanted.

From hearing the voicemail to his death day, Steve never wasted his life. He was grateful every day he woke up, grateful when he emerged from a battle, still alive, albeit badly bruised.

Because of Tony, his life changed. For the better.

Because of one voicemail.

Chapter Text

"Peter--" MJ's voice called, but silenced once Peter slammed his bedroom door behind him.

May, MJ, and Ned threw some kind of "intervention" to get him out of his slump. He didn't think he was in a slump, it was just some bump in the road. Peter's been through two father figures dying, so if he could get through those, he can get through this one. This was the third time; he knew how it went. He'd feel guilty, then angry, then sad, then he would be okay.

However, he was still in the guilty stage. It's been months after Tony died, after this long he'd normally be at the sad stage. Why was he going through Tony's death so differently?

Peter fell back into his bed, staring up at the boards holding up the top bunk. His mind raced about the recent months, mostly about how quickly everything happened. He was distracted for a few seconds, and before he knew it, Peter was on the ground. He would've been dead if Tony didn't fly in front of Peter and shoot at whoever was going to kill him.

He clutched onto Iron Man's suit, trying to pry off the armor as fast as he could. He had to save Tony. He had to. He didn't know what would happen to him if he lost his third father figure. Tony grabbed his hands, stopping him from trying to get to the wound. Despite the predicament they were in, Tony held a smile on his face. It was one of the few genuine Peter got to see. Words were said but Peter was in such a scared and horrified state that he couldn't hear them clearly.

Peter stopped himself from remembering, swiping the tear away from his face. He sat up and thought about how if he had paid attention, Tony wouldn't be dead. Tony would be here, at Avengers HQ, always a phone call away. Tony would be down to have some ice cream and watch Star Wars with Peter if he was feeling down. It was all Peter's fault that Tony died.

Which is why he broke connection with the remaining Avengers. If it wasn't for Peter, their friend would be alive.

He couldn't even put on the suit; Tony made it for Peter to protect people, but he failed at his one job. He couldn't protect Tony.

As he glanced to the mask sticking out of his backpack, he walked over to it and pulled it out. Peter held it in his hands for a while, then ripped out the rest of the suit out of the backpack; in a fit of rage, he threw it across the room in frustration. His web slingers went with the suit, and when they hit the ground, they let out a little beep. Peter walked towards them to see if the beep was serious (he didn't want Aunt May's apartment to blow up) and noticed how the right one was slightly glowing. He picked it up from under his mask and it let out a little hologram on the wall, just like his original web slingers that Tony gave him after the airport fight. Peter looked up at the hologram and dropped his web slinger.

It was Tony.

He was talking, but Peter couldn't hear any audio. There was a faint noise coming from his mask; Peter hesitated but put it on.

The hologram started from the beginning.

"Hey, kid. I really made you a hologram. How extra am I?"

Peter chuckled as a tear rolled down his face. Although they probably were about to go into battle, Tony was still in his signature outfit. A graphic tee with a blazer and a really cool pair of sunglasses.

"If you're seeing this, that means I've died. I saw this coming so, I'm glad I realized it so I could make you this little...message. If I don't die then I'll probably delete this off your suit and regret standing in the middle of my room for a few minutes, talking into a camera. This might be a little shorter than what I would've hoped, but that's because I still...I still have things to do. So, kid. You're watching this and you might think that me being gone is somehow your fault. Doesn't matter how I died, if it was protecting you or any other way, it's not your fault. Okay? Look, take a seat, take a seat."

Peter plopped onto the floor, gazing up at Tony's hologram.

"You're probably going through a lot right now. But, through everything, no matter what the hell you do, even if it's blow up an entire planet, I'm proud of you. Please try not to blow up any planets. But, I'd still be proud of you because wow, my kid really blew up a planet? That's a big feat..."

Tony drifted off, his eyes zoning out, as if he was remembering something.

"When I was growing up, my father never really said he was proud of me. He wasn't even there a lot. I just don't want to mess up with you, even though biologically and legally you're not my child. I just feel responsible, in some way? I am the one who gave you the high tech suits and all. Anyways, I just wanted to treat you better than my dad with me. I don't want to make the same mistakes as he did, y'know? Kinda...break the cycle I guess."

Tony shifted in his seat, his eyes going from his feet to the camera. This was so unlike Tony, Peter thought. Normally he'd be cracking jokes and looking right into your eyes or into the camera. He seemed uncomfortable, in a way. Probably because he was literally filming his last words to the person he considered his own son.

"I can probably assume you haven't put the suit on in a while and you're seeing this months after my death. You seem like the kinda kid to pull that. But, I mean, you're Spider-Man. New York needs you. You gotta look out for the little guy. Now, I'm not rushing you or anything, but...don't give up this whole superhero thing forever. Unless your life is in mortal danger and the only way to survive is to stop being a superhero, then you should totally stop. And if you're asked to be apart of the Avengers, well, that's your decision. I didn't want to be an Avenger at first, surprisingly. I even told Fury that I didn't want to join his secret boy band. Side note, you're not the only one going through this. You might have stopped talking to the Avengers or whatever, but please, be there for Rhodey. He doesn't have anyone to go to really, while you have your friends and family. Please be there for him, kid."

Peter chuckled along with Tony at his boy band joke. He wished this hologram could go on forever, just to see Tony. He missed him, so much.

"I, uh, I have to go, kid. I'm sorry, I wish this could go on for hours but, unfortunately, crazy purple aliens don't like to wait to take over the universe apparently. So I guess I wanna say, don't change your whole life because I'm not in it anymore, kid. Don't waste your life, please. You're so young with so much potential and you're so, so smart. Please don't waste your life."

Tony's eyes started welling up with tears and the video cut out, leaving Peter alone in his room, crying under a Spider-Man mask.

After that message, Peter turned his life around almost instantaneously. He fixed his falling grades, started opening up to May and his friends more, even put the Spider-Man suit back on and became a hero again.

He joined the Avengers. Although he met Steve Rogers previously, he still didn't like him that much. That man caused Tony so much hurt; but he put up with it anyways.

Peter knew Steve got a message like his. He probably heard his before Peter, but he knew he heard it. Steve swore to Peter that he'd be there for him, like Tony, though he knew he couldn't replace Tony, no matter how hard he tried.

Although he was gone, Tony Stark affected the Avengers, before and after his death. And even from beyond the grave, he'd still affect them, for the rest of their existence.