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Peter flew after Drax and Mantis, from the all too familiar red planet and back onto…Earth? No, this couldn’t be right. Earth was green and blue and filled with trees and humans and this could not be it.
He landed, standing straight and scanning the horizon. A horde of monsters beyond his worst imagination was standing at the ready, on the opposite side of planet-turned-battlefield. An overwhelming sense of fear took him over, and the ground shifted beneath his feet. He really, really should have just stayed on that bus.
Suddenly, he heard a strong voice breaking through the haze of tension and fear. “Avengers!” the voice commanded. He immediately recognized it as Captain America's.
Hope, fight, and a strange sense of grim determination filled Peter. He crouched down, ready to do whatever it takes. His legs shook with the weight of holding up such a terrified body. Before the last word of the battle cry was spoken, his eyes fell on Tony. His heart skipped a beat.
For Mr. Stark, he thought. Peter planted his feet on the ground, his eyes on the stars.
And then: “Assemble.”
. . .
“What-What are you doing?”
Tony ignored the question. He simply pulled Peter closer, laying a heavy hand on the back of his head and breathing for the first time in days.
“Oh,” Peter’s voice was soft as he realized what was happening. “Oh, this is nice.” A tear slipped down Tony’s face. This was his kid. It took 5 years to get him back, but here he was. In the flesh, skin pale and cut up and bruised, but here. Solid. Real.
“I love you, Pete.”
Tony didn’t expect the sob that escaped Peter’s lips or the way he suddenly trembled against Tony’s chest. There was a beat of silence as they took in each other’s presence. The battle raged around them. But Tony’s kid was home.
. . .
“Mr. Stark?”
Rhodey moved aside so Tony could have a better look at Peter.
“Hey.” Peter’s voice was shaking, along with the rest of him. He looked like he had been through hell, but his eyes were focused on Tony. The kid looked scared out of his mind.
He dragged a few shivering breaths in, pressing his hands along Tony’s chest. He searched desperately for a heartbeat. It’s okay, he told himself. If I can just find a heartbeat, he’ll be okay.
“Mr. Stark, can you hear me?”
Rhodey could barely understand the words below the sound of Peter’s panic.
“It’s Peter.”
More jerky breaths. Peter looked on the brink of collapse. Tony’s eyes were empty and a thousand miles away. Peter wondered distantly how many times Steve Rogers had seen this look in his soldier’s eyes.
Is this what it’s like to look into the face of Death and see someone you love?
Is this what it’s like to have your heart ripped from your body?
“Hey.” More soft voices, fleeting words, desperate cries. “We won, Mr. Stark. We won.”
The light began to fade from Peter’s eyes as he lost hope. They flickered over Tony's rising and falling chest, the charred side of his body, his failing breaths. “You did it, Mr. Stark. You did it.”
Rhodey put firm hands on Peter’s shoulders, beginning to pull him away. “Tony,” Peter cried out. "I'm sorry." He scrambled to get his hands on Tony’s chest, sobbing, begging Rhodey to just let me hold him. Please.
He felt unfamiliar hands on his shoulders, and he was being lifted gently away. He dropped his head, pleading with God for this not to be true. So this was what it was like to die.
. . .
Peter stared out at the lake. Small waves lapped up a few feet away from where he was standing. The sun shone off the clear waters. His head was reeling with all the words he didn’t say.
I love you. I’m proud of you. I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
But it was done now. Final. No do-overs, no take backs. Tony was gone forever. Forever. God, that was a long time.
A hand slid onto his shoulder, squeezing tightly before releasing and falling down to take his hand. Peter looked over, silent, unshed tears in his eyes. Pepper was standing next to him, a proud smile on her tearful face.
“He knows,” she whispered as if reading Peter’s thoughts. “He knows you love him. He loves you, too.”
At this, Peter broke. He allowed himself to fall into Pepper’s waiting arms, bowing his face into her shoulder. The world had never felt more broken and yet put together all at the same time. Maybe he would be okay. That wasn’t the point now.
Peter spent the rest of his time watching the small crowd of people who had come to say goodbye. Super soldiers, spies, humans, Carol Danvers, whoever she was.
They had all known Tony for significantly longer periods than he had. They had been through hell with him. They had fought through hell with him. And here was just a teenager from Queens with a squeaky voice and a hero complex.
Peter was watching Steve talk quietly to a guy with long, dark hair and shaky hands when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Hi. I’m Morgan.”
He looked down from where he was sitting on his bench, finding a little girl no older than four or five staring up at him. She looked vaguely familiar, though he knew they had never met.
“Hey,” he smiled. “I’m Peter. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I know you. My daddy has a picture of you in the kitchen.”
So, this must have been Tony’s kid. Peter nodded, not necessarily taking in the words and what they meant. He glanced out at the ocean again, unable to look at the child without seeing Tony’s gaze.
Morgan suddenly reached her hands up, face twisted between a smile and a quiet plea when she realized Peter was becoming upset. She didn’t wait for permission before crawling into Peter’s lap. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his tie.
“Daddy’s not coming back, is he?” she asked quietly.
Peter smiled softly despite his desire to fall apart. He patted Morgan’s hair, heart swelling at the fact that she had referred to Tony as their dad. “We’ll be okay,” he assured. “I promise you.”
Morgan sniffed against his chest, lowering her head so she could cry. They stayed like that for a while, both mourning a loss that neither could comprehend at the time. May found them sometime later when almost everyone was gone. Peter staring emptily into the still water, eyes glazed over and haunted. Morgan hugged close to his chest, fast asleep in his arms.
May wondered what Peter had gone through. What he had seen. What it felt like to be torn apart and put back together only to be shoved into another battle. To watch your dad die over again. She sighed, resting one hand on the side of Peter’s head and pressing a gentle kiss to his hair.
“I love you,” she whispered.