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It rained for days after the final battle with Thanos. Rained buckets, just like in the movies, as if nature was trying to wipe away all the suffering and grief that’d scorched the Earth while Peter and the others were dead.
Once or twice, Peter heard other Avengers complaining about it, how the water came non-stop, as they came and went from Mr. Stark’s house on the lake. Peter didn’t mind it. He liked listening to it hit the roof while they were all tucked away inside, liked listening to it hit the lake while he drifted off to sleep at night.
Peter wished everyone would stop complaining about it. He cringed every time Captain America dropped by, with his wet boots squeaking, with his head shaking, wishing the storms would let up and they could all go to work restoring the city, restoring the world.
He knew, in the very back of his head, that eventually time would start again. That him and May would leave the safety of the Stark’s lake house and head back to the city, where they no longer had an apartment.
They barely had anything anymore. Just a few boxes Mr. Stark and Pepper had managed to salvage.
A couple days ago they’d looked through it, and Peter held May’s hand as she broke down after finding a framed picture of their family when Ben had been alive at the very bottom of a box.
Peter supposed that was something. They had a photo and their memories and each other, and that should be enough. It should definitely be enough for him not to feel so miserable, so dreadful about returning to New York and starting a brand-new life.
It seemed as though life was always pulling the rug out from under him. One second he was on a field trip, then he was dying in space, and now… he was there, on Mr. Stark’s porch, in the middle of the night, watching the rain.
Peter barely heard the front door creak open, barely heard himself sigh as Mr. Stark sat down next to him.
“Sorry if I woke you up,” said Peter.
“You didn’t,” said Mr. Stark. “The storm knocked the power out, and uh, the backup generator failed.”
Peter frowned. So many things changed while he was gone. Mr. Stark’s off the grid lake house was one of the biggest.
“Tony Stark’s generator failed?”
“Truth is,” said Mr. Stark. “I never upgraded the one that came with the house. Wasn’t a priority”
“Oh.”
Peter tried and failed to imagine what it must have been like for the people who didn’t get snapped. The ones left behind. He couldn’t decide who had it worse, who lost the toss when Thanos flipped his coin. There were no winners, Peter had decided. Not even Thanos. Not even back when he was still around.
“All this…” said Peter, trailing off. “All this is really cool, Mr. Stark. I’m glad you were happy.”
“I’m happier now,” said Mr. Stark, giving Peter a look over, as if his eyes were a pair of scanners, trying to detect what was wrong. “It wasn’t always sunshine and roses, kid. Pep and I… we got lucky, but we still lost.”
“Pepper was telling me about her uncle, and her mom, it’s really awful.”
“It was,” said Mr. Stark. “But I was talking about you… I know we haven’t really talked about it, Pete. I – I missed you so much. It’s good to have you back, even your ridiculous puns.”
Peter laughed. “I know that, Mr. Stark. You almost squeezed the life out of me with that hug on the battlefield.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“I thought I was gonna die,” said Peter. “Death by Iron Man instead of death by Thanos.”
“Okay,” said Mr. Stark. “I take it back. There are some things I didn’t miss.”
Peter laughed again, and wished, yet again, that rain would keep coming down. That he and May could continue hiding out in the lake house, where it was warm and safe and known.
Mr. Stark nudged him with his elbow. “What’cha thinking about, kid? Your thoughts are louder than the rain.”
“Just –“ said Peter, with a breath. “Just how different everything is now.”
“Understandable, you were out for a long time,” said Mr. Stark. “You didn’t miss much, honestly.”
“Right. Just the birth of your child.”
“Trust me Peter that’s not something you wanted to witness. Morgan’s cute now but in the delivery room?” Mr. Stark started shaking his head. “I accidentally got a look – “
“Mr. Stark! Not what I meant,” said Peter, cutting him off before he could go on. “Just that I wasn’t here. I know it’s dumb, I just sorta always figured when you and Pepper had a kid, I’d be here, kind of like an unofficial older brother.”
“There’s nothing unofficial about it, Pete. You are her brother. You only missed four years.”
“I know, but it’s just with our job who knows what’s gonna happen next?” asked Peter. “We never know when another purple guy with a god complex is gonna show up, or when – “
“-It’s gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know that though.”
Mr. Stark looked at him. “Listen, kid, bad stuff’s gonna happen. Always will, but we’ll take care of it as it comes. No sense worrying about it today. Letting it take more from us than it will when it arrives… besides, kid, they don’t call me the futurist for nothing. You’re gonna turn out fine, in the end.”
“What? Did you, like, have a vision?”
Mr. Stark opened his mouth, then shut it again, and must have opted to ignore his question.
“Let’s go back inside, yeah?” said Mr. Stark, standing up. “We’ll get the fireplace going, light some candles, and try not to burn the house down in the process. Maybe make some smores. How ‘bout it?”
“Yeah,” said Peter. “Sounds great.”
He’d forgotten how comforting just a few words from Mr. Stark could be. That just him saying the words gave them authority that made Peter’s hope just a bit stronger.
They went inside, and roosted marshmallows in the fireplace with bent up hangers, and the next day, when the clouds cleared and the rain stopped and the sun finally made an appearance, Peter was pretty okay with it.