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Morgan was tucked in. Pepper had gone upstairs. The late nights had been getting to her as neither Pepper nor Tony had been sleeping well lately. Tony would have joined her, but he wasn’t in the mood for the nightmares to start tonight just yet.
Bursts of fireworks split dully through the distant air, reminding Tony that it was New Years Eve. He had to laugh to himself at the memories of previous New Years that he had experienced, most of which had ended in a one-night stand and a hell of a hangover. Memories of Yinsen and a very different Aldrich Killian at the 1999 New Years Eve party drifted lazily through his mind. How quaint it was to think of times as simple as Y2K and Extremis. Tony was older now. He had to admit that the glitz and the pizzazz of a New Year’s celebration didn’t spark his interest anymore. Even as the point of connection between his flesh and bone shoulder and his metal arm connected throbbed dully, each day he was alive was a celebration. Each day past those days was a miracle that Tony was hard pressed to take for granted. The fact of this miracle was enough to balance out the horrors that still plagued him at night.
The wormhole and one of the first glances of Thanos’ ship.
Freaking flying donut in the sky.
Titan.
Peter…
Peter…
Hey Ms. Potts. Don’t feel bad about this.
No trust, liar.
The Time Between.
No amount of money ever bought a second of time.
I am inevitable.
And I…am…
Tony’s head snapped back into the present. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, leaning heavily against the wall. He took a shuddering breath as he turned the last lamp off in the living room. He was just about to head upstairs, but maybe he would just…
He crept down the hall in the dark, stopping outside of the second door on the left. His head rested against the outside of the door, his ears straining. He didn’t hear anything, but strained his ears anyway, halfway hoping that he would hear something from beyond the door.
Getting the better of himself, he quietly turned the handle, stepping into the moonlight that bathed the room in a soft glow between the curtains. Snow had only begun falling about an hour ago, but the ground was already blanketed in heavy white powder.
Peter lay curled up under his many blankets, his breathing slow and heavy. It was a beautiful sound to Tony. He could think of all the times it had been different. Fast and rapid as he clung to Tony as his cells began to disintegrate. Fast but excited as he rambled to Tony while the battle raged on around them. Fast and frantic as he lay in the troughs of a nightmare. Broken and strained as Tony calmed him down from one of the many panic attacks that followed that fateful day. But Peter’s breathing was calm now. His face did look troubled, though. Tony sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Peter’s back. The simple touch seemed to ease the lines on Peter’s face, if only by a fraction. Tony felt the rise and fall of Peter’s breath, the sensation nearly enough to bring tears to his eyes. He breathed through it, instead savoring the feeling as he closed his eyes.
He just loved this kid. He didn’t like to think about all they had been through, but the trauma that they had both endured slithered its tendrils through the fabric of their relationship. What he would give for the only memories together to be lab days and local emergencies around New York. What he would give to keep Peter safe from the horrors that plagued the boy’s mind. Tony could handle them, but Peter? He was still just a child.
My child.
But Peter had been getting better. Tony had been getting better too. They were beginning to move forward. Things weren’t the same- they never would be. Tony and Peter began to trudge through the present, trudging their path, creating their new normal, as if it had to be forged out of stone. They were plodding through this journey together, each helping the other in their own different ways. Tony tried to hide a lot of his troubles from Peter, though. He was the adult and Peter needed him more. Tony often relied on Pepper’s consistent warmth and strength during his times of need, but Peter was bright and intuitive. He wasn’t stupid and always knew when Tony was having one of the Bad Days.
Nevertheless, it had only been a few months since the Battle and it was the first holidays since then. He was ready to leave this year behind in the worst way. The past five years had felt like one long year- a year that clumped together in a sea of gray muck. Each following strike of midnight on January 1st never felt like new beginnings. They felt like just a confirmation that his nightmare continued, never to be changed.
As his arm gave another dull twinge, it reminded him that things had changed. They had changed for the better, despite the challenges that had come along. They would continue to change and Tony would have Peter back by his side. He would have Pepper and Morgan and Peter, and more than he thought he would ever have, all those New Years Eves ago.
He heard an increase in the dull fires of explosives in the night sky and spared a glance at the clock besides Peter’s bed. It was officially 12:00 AM, January 1st, 2025. Tony stood up slowly as to not jostle the bed and wake Peter. God knows the kid needed the sleep. What was waking up to watch a stupid ball drop anyway? He had his own celebration right here in front of him.
He bent over, placing a hand gently on Peter’s tousled curls. He laid a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead, closing his eyes. He stood up, pulling the blankets closer around Peter.
“Happy New Year, kid,” he whispered, the snow falling softly in the night.