Chapter Text
“I went forward in time, to view alternate futures,” says Strange. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”
“How many did you see?”
“Fourteen million six hundred and five.”
“How many did we win?”
“One.”
They don’t win.
Tony knows it as he watches Strange crumble to dust, the defeated expression on his face speaking volumes.
Whatever reason the man had for relinquishing the Time Stone, this wasn’t it.
This isn’t how things were supposed to go.
Miles and miles away, May Parker watches on in horror as her husband disintegrates before her eyes. She soon follows, her final thought of her kid, the boy who is as good as her son, who has lost so much already.
A thirteen-year-old girl stumbles through the door of her home to find what remains of her mother scattered across the floor. Halfway across the country, her father watches body after body fade to nothing, blissfully unaware that he has a daughter who is now alone in the world. She looks just like him.
Nineteen people die on impact when their bus flips over, the driver's seat empty save for a dusting of ash. The seven passengers still alive die soon after, their injuries too severe to wait for the help that isn’t coming. The remaining members of their families wait, hope steadily draining from them as they peer through dusty windows to view the wreckage that is their city.
An unborn child fades away along with her expectant mother. Her father clings desperately to his wife’s body until dust slips through his fingers.
Seven months and twenty-one days later:
“What d’you mean, take in a kid?” Tony asked incredulously, pulling at a strand of his ungroomed facial hair, a rusty screwdriver hanging loosely from his other hand.
Christ, he needed to shave.
“Everyone’s got to pitch it, it’s not just you,” Rhodey replied, sighing, as he stretched out his braced legs and leaned back into his seat.
“I don’t see you scrambling to adopt a handful of strays,” Tony muttered, trying to steady his hand enough to fit the minuscule Phillips head into the tiny nail at the base of the PC. He didn’t know why he bothered; he hadn’t used a laptop since the early 2000s.
“I’m on-”
“Active duty, I know,” said Tony, finally loosening the nail enough to pull it out with chipped fingernails. “But what kid with two brain cells to rub together would want to live with me?”
Tony fiddled with the nail he’d just unscrewed, twisting it aimlessly between his fingers. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Fiddling with things needlessly. Dismantling old, outdated tech. Pulling loose threads from his cuff. Anything to distract himself from all that had happened. From the world he had to live in, after the Snap.
Rhodey reached out and wrapped a hand around Tony’s wrist, halting his movements. The sudden warmth of the contact made Tony jolt, but he didn’t pull away.
“Pepper would be able to do it,” Tony said tonelessly, his eyes following the movement of the nail rotating between his thumb and forefinger. He hated how his voice still wavered when he said her name. It had been nearly eight months, but her absence still stabbed at him like a rusted knife, like a scalpel slicing open his chest in a dark Afghan cave. Like Cap’s shield cutting into where the arc reactor used to be…
Pepper had never had kids, she hadn’t even had siblings, but she’d had the uncanny ability to succeed at pretty much anything she her mind to. She’d always known the right thing to say. The best step to take. The right decision to make. Not like Tony, who’d utterly failed when it actually mattered. All the tech in the world hadn’t been enough to stop it all from happening. All Tony could do was watch helplessly, cradling Pepper’s face in his hands as she faded to dust.
“Tony, I know,” said Rhodey, his tone soft. “We’ve all lost people, everyone has-”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Tony said angrily, yanking his wrist out of Rhodey’s grasp. He pulled back, but Rhodey lurched to his feet and grabbed Tony’s upper arms in a harsh grip, shaking him once.
“Damn it, Tony, this isn’t about winning the world’s best parent award,” Rhodey snapped. “There are millions of kids out there, millions, who’ve lost their parents and have nowhere to go.”
Tony slumped a little, and Rhodey let go of his arms and stepped back slightly.
“Shouldn’t CPS be banging down my door, then? Why’s it your job?” Tony asked, the fight drained out of him.
Rhodey shifted back on his feet, one hand gripping the armrest of his seat.
"CPS is overrun, there are just too many kids and not enough families to go around. The military had to step in.”
He paused to sit down.
“Your name came up, I offered to ask.”
“You would, wouldn’t you,” said Tony, sitting heavily in the chair next to the desk he had been working at.
Rhodey swiveled his chair so he was facing Tony.
“Children’s homes are overcrowded, there’s a major shortage of foster homes, and in a situation like this, all a kid really needs is security. Food on the table. A safe place to stay.”
He caught Tony’s eye.
“That’s something you can do, Tony, give a kid somewhere safe to stay.”
Tony closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
“All right,” he said shortly, “I’ll do it.”
Tony had known it would come to this the moment Rhodey had brought it up. How could he say no, when this was all on him? It was his failure to stop Thanos that had resulted in millions of orphaned children.
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes.
“Send out the homing pigeons, do whatever it is you people do.”
Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder before turning to go. He paused by the door, glancing back as if to say something. But Tony had turned away, screwdriver in hand, to remove the remaining nails that kept all the pieces together.