Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 2001

Pepper stares up at the modest, slightly shabby apartment building, trying to keep her trepidation from her face. She’s got a briefcase in hand, and a cheque that weighs a thousand pounds in her pocket. 

This is not what she’d thought being Tony Stark’s personal assistant would entail. She’s only had the job for a little over a year, and despite the unusual circumstances of her hiring, she’d assumed it'd be fairly run of the mill- scheduling appointments, making coffee runs, picking up his dry cleaning, dodging wandering hands. And up until that night nearly two months ago, when she’d discovered him in his penthouse, drunk out of his mind and gripping his right arm in shock and horror, it had been all those things- minus the wandering hands, thankfully. 

She walks up to the entrance to the building and presses the buzzer, not needing to check her notes in order to find the right one. She can hear the system ringing, and for a moment thinks nobody will answer. She’s not entirely sure what she’ll do if that happens- she’ll feel awfully foolish if she has to go sit in her rented car until someone shows up. To her relief, a voice answers the call after a moment, with a crackle of feedback. 

“Hello?” It’s wary, probably for good reason- this isn’t the nicest area of the city, and it’s late. Pepper had come here straight from the airport, not wanting to linger. She’ll do the job she came here to do, and be back on a plane to Malibu first thing in the morning. 

She clears her throat. “Hello, my name is Virginia Potts. Is this Mr. Richard Parker I’m speaking to?” 

The line is silent for a moment. “This is his brother, Ben. I’m pretty sure whatever you’re selling, Miss, he ain’t interested.” 

“I’m not selling anything, Mr. Parker. I need to speak with either Mary or Richard Parker. The matter is urgent.” She hesitates for a moment, then steels herself. She has a hunch. “I work for Tony Stark; I’m here on his behalf.” 

The line is quiet for a long, tense moment. If it weren’t for the faint crackling coming through the speaker, she’d think he’d hung up on her. Then, so quiet she’s pretty sure she wasn’t meant to catch it, she hears the man- Ben- mutter, “ Fuck .” In a louder voice, he adds, “Alright Miss Potts, in you come, I guess,” and buzzes her through.

Mary and Richard Parker are not interested in Tony’s money, that fact becomes immediately apparent. 

Pepper can’t say she’s entirely surprised- she’d warned Tony that they would very likely reject the offer. He’d scoffed at the thought- and to be fair, there were an impressive number of zeros on the cheque. He’d assumed that because Mary and Richard aren’t well off- both currently enrolled in doctoral programs at NYU, and accordingly impoverished because of it- they’d leap at the chance to make some money. Pepper hadn’t agreed, although she hadn’t said so at the time, still unsure how much backtalk Tony Stark would allow from his young, replaceable PA. If the Parkers were after money, Pepper was sure they’d have sold the story. At the very least, it would be them popping up on Tony’s doorstep, not the other way around. 

Tony Stark is like most wealthy people- he assumes that money is the most valuable thing a person can have. But Pepper, having grown up with a healthy respect for a budget under her single mother’s masterful navigation of two full time jobs, knows better than that, and she suspects the Parkers do as well. According to Tony’s frighteningly in-depth background check on them, both Parkers grew up in insular, low-income neighbourhoods- Richard’s historically Jewish, Mary’s Italian. There’s a story there that Pepper would be otherwise fascinated to hear, but now… Now is not the time. 

Mary and Richard are young and attractive, polite, but firm in their denial. They each sport permanent under-eye bags that speak to many, many sleepless nights, either researching their theses or tending a newborn, or the unholy combination of the two. They reject Pepper’s first offer out of hand- looking so insulted that Pepper has to bite back a reflexive apology. Ben, who is both older and taller than Richard, a mechanic of some kind, Pepper recalls, and appropriately muscled, props himself up against the living room wall and watches her, expression bland, saying nothing. 

“Listen,” Mary says quietly, to avoid waking the baby sleeping in the next room, “we understand Mr. Stark’s position on this, and we’re not intending to say or do anything about it. We don’t want to bring any trouble on ourselves. But we won’t sign that contract- our child is not for sale.” 

Pepper flinches. Her throat burns with acid at the phrasing. “Mrs. Parker, you don’t-”

“No, I’m sorry, but I think you don’t, Miss Potts. You’re here on behalf of one of the world’s wealthiest and most powerful men, who couldn’t even be bothered to come here and have this conversation with us personally, asking us to promise you we’ll force our son to ignore a fundamental part of himself. And in exchange for more money than we’ll ever see in our natural lives. It’s tawdry, and obscene. Peter will do what he likes, when he is old enough to make the decision, and that’s that. We won’t take the choice away from him, and we certainly won’t let Tony Stark do it. He can keep his money.” 

Her words hang in the silence that follows. Richard clutches Mary’s hand, a show of unity. Pepper shifts in her seat, somehow more uncomfortable now than she had been when this started. She considers and discards a number of responses. Finally, she says, “Will you allow me to put the money in trust for him, to do with what he will, once he turns 21?” 

That makes Mary’s resolve flicker, for a moment. “The NDA-” 

“You don’t have to sign,” Pepper cuts in. “You’re right- it was an unfair and inappropriate thing to ask of you, and I- I apologize. Mr. Stark… I know what this looks like, and I understand how you feel. But for what it’s worth, I think he is trying to do right by Peter, in the only way he knows how. He’d want Peter to have this money, he’d- he wants him taken care of.” 

Mary and Richard exchange looks. “You know that caring for a child requires more than providing for them financially, correct, Miss Potts?” 

Pepper smiles. “I know. I’m afraid that Mr. Stark doesn’t.” She doesn’t mean it as an insult, and from the looks on Mary and Richard’s faces, she knows they understand that it isn’t. 

The room falls into silence again. Pepper waits, but after several strained minutes, concedes defeat. She moves to rise. 

“Miss Potts…” Pepper stops, looking back at Mary. “Put it in trust. Peter can decide what to do with it, when the time comes.” 

Pepper smiles, then takes a business card out of her pocket. After a moment’s deliberation, she pulls a pen from her briefcase and scrawls her personal phone number across the back of it. She hands it to Mary, who hesitates briefly, then takes it. 

“If you or Peter need anything at all, call me on that number. I’ll do whatever is in my power to help.” 

Mary nods stiffly. “Thank you, Miss Potts.” 

Pepper smiles again, then lets herself out of the apartment. Technically, she’d failed at her assigned task, something she normally finds abhorrent. But as she strides towards her rental car, nicer than anything sitting in the building’s overgrown parking lot, she feels something tightly clenched in her chest loosen. She feels lighter than she has in months.

Pepper tries her best to put the Parker family out of her mind. It’s not actually all that difficult- despite the fact that their son had rocked the foundations of her employer’s world, his existence doesn’t really affect her day-to-day. 

She does get updates, periodically, on how the Parkers’ lives are proceeding- Tony had set an alert for any news about the family to be immediately directed to her, then made her swear to never talk to him about it. She’d balked at that, but he’d been insistent.

“Do whatever you need to, just take care of hi- take care of it. I trust your judgement.” 

He’d been in his basement workshop, turned slightly away from her, shoulders tense and eyes staring blankly through the schematics projected before him. After a moment, she’d nodded, sharply, and moved on. 

So JARVIS lets her know if any news related to Mary, Richard, or Peter crops up, and it does, occasionally. Mary and Richard each defend their theses successfully and earn their doctorates, first Mary in engineering and then Richard, a few months later, in biochemistry. Pepper arranges for flowers to be sent each time. When Mary gets hired for a non-profit that builds affordable housing for low-income families, Pepper quietly sends the organization’s information to SI’s corporate social responsibility team. She's pleased to hear, a few months later, that the organization is selected as the recipient of a fairly sizable grant from Stark Industries. The first time Richard’s name crops up on a patent application- somewhat disappointingly for a drug he developed for Oscorp- she sends him a gift card for an expensive restaurant in New York and a note of congratulations. 

Overall, however, their interaction is limited, and Pepper goes about her business without thinking of them all that frequently. Weeks turn into months turn into years, and the Parkers become a semi-annual notification in her calendar, a reminder to add some money to the trust fund- from her account, not Tony’s- on Peter’s birthday and Christmas, and nothing more notable than that.

June 2006 

It’s nearing the end of a particularly successful second quarter when the notification comes, pulling Pepper from where she’s studying the company’s topline financial report. It’s fairly early in the morning, and there’s a board meeting scheduled later that day to review how SI is coming along with the year’s strategic plan.

Pepper is in New York for the occasion. As CEO, Tony is technically the one who is supposed to lead both this and the year-end review, though as time has gone on he’s become less and less involved during the planning process. Eventually, during the most recent review prior to this one, he’d simply shrugged when the time had come to present, waved vaguely at Pepper, and said, “Pep can go through it with you, she knows all this better than I ever could anyway.”  

She’d yelled at him, afterwards, for putting her on the spot like that. He’d laughed and given her another raise. This time around, he hasn't even bothered to come to New York with her.

A dialogue box opens on her laptop and JARVIS’ voice breaks her concentration. “Ms Potts, I have an urgent update regarding protocol 365-388a, would you like to hear it?”

Pepper frowns, straightening up from where she’s slumped over her computer. That’s the Parkers’ notification protocol. JARVIS is set to send her a message or email whenever something pops up online or in the news that matches the filters placed on their names. That he’s asking verbally- using the protocol designation in case anyone is around to listen in- tells her that whatever it is, it’s bigger than a graduation or good career move. 

A prickle of unease creeps up her spine. If they’ve gone to the press, after all this time… “I’m clear JARVIS, what is it?” 

“Ms Potts, I’m afraid that Richard and Mary Parker’s obituaries have been printed in this morning’s paper. It seems they were on the British Airways Flight 670.”

Pepper puts a trembling hand over her mouth. The flight had gone down over the Atlantic ocean three days ago. There had been no names of the dead released to the press, likely to allow time to notify the families. She’d known Richard and Mary had been in London for a conference- there'd been a small note listing Mary as one of the presenters on the conference organizer’s website. She hadn’t thought anything of it, even when news of the plane crash had come out.  

She doesn’t know if they’d brought Peter with them. 

“JARVIS, Peter-” 

“It appears he was not on the flight, as the obituary mentions him having survived them.”

God, poor kid. He’ll be turning 5 in a few months- that’s old enough to know his parents weren’t going to be around anymore, but too young to really understand. 

This also poses some… problems, the more ruthless part of her mind whispers. She needs to know who Peter’s guardianship has transferred to- if he goes into foster care they will almost certainly take record of his soul mark, and she can’t assume that a social worker or foster parent will remain quiet about something like that. 

She thinks about the one time she’d actually met the Parkers, and remembers that Richard’s brother had been there. Ben, she thinks his name was. If she’s got any luck at all, he’ll be the one to have taken custody of Peter. 

“JARVIS, when’s the funeral?” 

“This Saturday, Miss Potts.” 

She’s supposed to fly back to Malibu Friday evening, but she doesn’t think Tony will mind if she stays a few extra days. She’ll say she’s visiting a friend in the city. 

“JARVIS, can you pull some information for me?” 

“I have been instructed to perform any tasks that you require, Miss Potts.” 

Okay. Well, that’s helpful. “Compile everything you can on Ben Parker. And add the funeral to my calendar, please.”

It’s still uncomfortable, after over half a decade of working for Tony, for Pepper to acknowledge that she’s become somewhat of a household name. Nonetheless, it’s true that she has. She’s done a few interviews, at the behest of SI’s PR department, usually to try to smooth over another of Tony's spectacular drunken escapades. How much she enjoys working for him, how he’s really not like that in private, how proud she is of Stark Industries and the work they do- that sort of thing. It’s unusual for a personal assistant to have the level of notoriety, small though it is, that she does, but then. She works for an unusual man. 

She doesn’t want to be recognized, so she doesn’t actually join the service until it’s already moved from the chapel to the cemetery. She hangs back, hair down and sunglasses on to guard against the bright summer sun, hand clasped tightly around the flowers she’d brought. 

She can see Ben, just as tall and broadly muscular as she remembers, with a slight, dark-haired woman next to him that must be his wife, May. Between them is a small boy- brown curls and dark, red-rimmed eyes. He’s leaning heavily against one of May’s legs, arm curled around her calf, with the other hand held tightly in Ben’s. He isn’t crying. Maybe it’s the power of suggestion, with what she knows about him, but something in his small, serious face reminds her of Tony. 

She keeps back as the service concludes and the caskets are lowered into adjacent lots. Once the final words are said, guests mill about, offering hugs and condolences to the remaining Parkers. She keeps her eyes trained on Peter, waiting for the crowd to disperse, and as such she doesn’t immediately notice that May has left his side. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Pepper turns, then has to stop herself from taking an involuntary step backwards. May Parker is shorter than her by a good several inches, but she seems to tower in her rage. 

“I- Mrs. Parker-” 

“No, really? Who the hell do you think you are, showing up here like this?” May has her fists balled up at her sides and her voice is shaking with anger. Pepper wonders if she’s about to get punched.

She holds up a hand, placating. “I just came to- to pay my respects.” 

“Your respects? Your respects? That’s awfully fucking rich coming from you. Talking about respect .”

And, okay. Obviously there's something going on here that Pepper doesn’t understand, but she’s not sure she deserves this.   

“Mrs. Parker-”

“May? What’s going on?” 

Both women turn. Ben is standing a few feet away. He’s hoisted Peter into his arms, and the little boy’s face is tucked into the crook of his neck. All Pepper can see of him is a mop of curls. 

She sees it, the moment Ben recognizes her. Unlike his wife, he doesn’t look angry. In fact, as his gaze sweeps over her and lands on the bouquet of lilies in her hand, it softens. 

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr. Parker.” She glances briefly over at May, who has deflated slightly in her husband’s presence. “And yours as well, Mrs. Parker.” 

Ben smiles tightly. “Thank you for coming, Ms Potts.”

May makes a noise a bit like an angry cat hissing. 

Pepper squares her shoulders and draws in a fortifying breath. “Let me lay these down and then- is there a place we can meet? I think we need to have a talk.”

Ben gives her their address, and Pepper gives them a bit of a head start so they can settle in before she arrives. She spends the time looking down at Mary and Richard’s graves, the white of the lilies vibrant in the sun, stark against the freshly-turned dark earth. 

She feels as though she should say something, but she isn’t really sure what. In the end, she turns away without saying anything at all- there’s no-one in there to hear her, anyway.

May and Ben Parker’s apartment is even shabbier than Mary and Richard’s had been. Pepper thinks uncomfortably about the trust, already full with enough money to keep someone living well for decades, if they spent it wisely, and accumulating interest the longer it goes untouched. She thinks uncomfortably too, of the airy apartment in downtown Malibu where she lives when she isn’t just staying in a guest room in Tony’s mansion. 

She’s sitting at their rickety kitchen table, trying not to be to obvious about avoiding eye contact with a glowering May. Peter had already been put down for a nap by the time she’d arrived, and Ben had directed her to take a seat and wait for him to make some refreshments. 

He sets a steaming mug of tea before her and another before May. It’s not really the weather for tea, especially not in the Parkers’ cramped, air conditioning-less apartment, but she wraps her palms around the warm mug regardless. Ben pulls up a chair and folds his body onto it with a sigh. 

Pepper clears her throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I truly am sorry for your loss. Thank you for seeing me on what I know must be a difficult day.” 

Ben nods, solemnly. May scoffs. 

“You’re here to make sure we don’t tell anyone about Peter and Tony Stark, yes?” 

She winces internally, keeping her expression neutral, but polite. There’s nothing about managing this situation that's particularly comfortable for her, but she's done a lot of uncomfortable things for Tony Stark over the years. She can handle this. “I really did want to pay my respects. I was in town when I heard the news. I didn’t know them well, but-” 

May sets her tea down on the wooden table with a sharp thud, and liquid sloshes over the rim.

“That might be the case, fine, but you don’t need to bother yourself with us. We’ll honor the agreement Mary and Richard made- this is ultimately Peter’s choice, when the time comes. And you can stop with the little- gifts and notes and reminders that Tony Stark has his eye on us. You can go back and tell your boss that he needn’t worry himself with his poor little liability of a soulmate anymore.” 

That startles Pepper. “Wait, that’s not-”

“What was it then, if not that? Stark is obviously not interested in being in Peter’s life, fine, it is what it is, but why the hell would he have you send any of those things, or come here today, if it wasn’t to- to intimidate Mary and Richard into-”

“Tony didn’t ask me to send those. And he- he doesn’t know I’m here.” 

“ What?”

Pepper takes a deep breath, then closes her eyes briefly, collecting herself. When she opens them, May is watching her warily, still evidently angry, but she’s holding back her tirade, for the moment. Ben is frowning, but he looks thoughtful, not angry. He’s got a hand clasped with May’s, and Pepper is struck suddenly with how similar this scene is to one that had occurred, all those years ago, when she’d first barged her way into this family’s life on Tony Stark's behalf. 

“Tony has asked me- well, me by way of his AI, JARVIS- to keep an eye on Peter. He’s cut himself off from any knowledge of Peter or his life. He doesn’t know I kept in semi-contact with Mary and Richard, and he doesn’t know about their- their deaths. He doesn’t even know about the trust fund- he thinks they took the money.” 

She feels a bit bad about that, to be truthful- he’s operating on the assumption that this is all buried under an NDA. But Pepper knew she’d made the right decision then, and she knows it now.

Ben speaks, voice slow and pensive. “I suppose I don’t understand, Ms Potts. Even if he doesn’t know about any of this, the fact remains that he clearly doesn’t want to be involved in Peter’s life. So why would you bother keeping in touch?” 

Pepper worries her lip briefly. She doesn’t love to talk about Tony to people who are effectively strangers- she’ll bitch about him to Rhodey or Happy, no problem, and gladly listen to their good-natured complaints in return, but she is cognizant of how juicy a story it could be for Tony Stark’s Right Hand Woman to be caught criticizing him publicly. She doesn’t even complain about her job to her own friends, she’s so paranoid about it. 

But. If anyone deserves to understand Tony Stark, it’s the Parkers. 

“Tony is… you have to understand. He spent the majority of his life believing he’d never have a soulmate. You know what people say about the Markless- there’s a reason why he always publicly wore the usual arm covering, even when he had nothing to cover. To wake up one day and suddenly realize that he wasn’t markless? It… took a toll.” 

“So he- what- outsourced his soulmating to the staff?” 

Pepper controls her reaction to that. It’s harsh, but not entirely wrong. 

“That’s… fair." She has to hold in a sigh. "He thinks that by keeping Peter at arms length, he’s protecting him.”

Both May and Ben straighten up at that. “ Protecting -” 

“No, not- not like that. Tony doesn’t have anyone in his life who isn’t in some way paid to be there. Me, his driver, his mentor- even his best friend works for his company’s top customer. And that sounds- well, I know how it sounds, but it’s by design. Tony doesn’t realize...” 

She looks down at her hands. She feels a little raw, and tired, like she’s been sitting at this table for hours. Days. She does her best to keep her voice steady. “He doesn’t realize the money isn’t why we stay.” 

“So he thinks that all he could possibly offer Peter is, what, money?” 

Pepper nods. 

“Well that’s bullshit. They’re soulmates - what kind of idiot is he?” Despite the language, May doesn’t sound angry anymore.

Pepper laughs, despite herself. “Yes, well, that’s why I wanted Mary and Richard- and now you and Ben- to know that I was there if you needed anything. I think a day will come when Tony will look back and regret the decision he made, or Peter will get tired of waiting for him to come around. I want there to be an… open door, of sorts, when that time comes.” 

There is a long moment where the silence stretches between them, thin and weighted. Then, May raps her knuckles against the wood of the table, once, and stands. 

“Alright then, if we’re keeping a door open, we need to do a few things. First on the list- you need to meet him.” 

Pepper jerks her head up, alarmed. “Oh no! I- I can’t. I’m not- well, kids aren’t- it’s just-”

“Nonsense. Peter’s the greatest kid in the universe- you’ll love him. And if we’re doing this, Ms Virginia Potts, we do it by my rules. This is my nephew we’re talking about.” 

Ben coughs lightly into a fist. 

“And Ben’s too, I suppose,” May concedes, magnanimously. “Our kid is going to have all the love and support he deserves, with or without his soulmate in his life. If you’re stepping up in Tony Stark’s place, then step the fuck up.”

Pepper stares at her. Then she stands, smooths the wrinkles from her skirt, and nods. 

“Lead the way, Mrs. Parker.”

Peter Parker is small for his age, is Pepper’s first thought. 

She’d seen him at the funeral, but it had been difficult to get a sense for his size when compared to May and, especially, Ben. He’d been napping when she’d arrived, but he’s awake now, sitting on the floor of his room and playing listlessly with a LEGO robot. There’s a distinct sense that his room is not yet lived-in; no boxes or anything lying around, but the room is entirely too tidy to belong to a small child. They would have just recently moved him in, of course.

She hovers awkwardly at the door for a moment, until May nudges her gently with an elbow, and she takes a tentative step into the room. He looks up at her when he hears her footfall, eyes wide and slightly magnified behind thick-rimmed glasses. 

May clears her throat, meaningfully, and Pepper crouches down so she’s not towering over him. 

“Hi Peter. My name’s Pepper. It’s nice to meet you.”

He stares at her, clutching his LEGO robot to his chest. “...hi.”

She smiles, then pauses, unsure what to say next. She wracks her brain for something, anything, but all she can think to say is, “I’m really sorry about your parents.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbles, casting his eyes downward. It sounds rote, automatic. She’s sure he’s said this a million times today, and kicks herself. She opens her mouth to say something else- what, she’s not sure- but then he speaks again. “Did- did you know them?” 

She shakes her head. “Not as well as I should have. I met them a few years ago, not long after you were born, actually. They were nice though, and I’m sad they’re gone.” 

Peter ducks his head. “Me too.” 

There’s another awkward silence. Like last time, Peter breaks it before Pepper can think of anything to say. “Are you from social services? May and Ben are really nice to me, I promise.”

“Oh no- Peter I’m-” She should have talked to May and Ben about what she was going to say here. This was an awful idea. 

“Pepper works for Tony Stark, honey.” 

Pepper jerks her head up to gape at Ben. May looks a little surprised as well, but Ben’s voice is firm and his expression is calm. 

Surprisingly, that seems to put Peter at his ease. “Oh. That makes sense.” 

She looks at Ben for a moment, and he nods, encouraging. She turns to Peter. “You… you know about Tony Stark?” 

As soon as the question is out of her mouth, she regrets it. Tony's name is on Peter's arm , and Tony is one of the most famous people in the world- more so than the average tech mogul. She can see Peter’s cuff, clasped gently around his tiny wrist, hiding the name behind white cloth. White, to indicate the wearer had yet to meet their soulmate. 

The cuff Tony had always worn was black, for “dead soulmate”. It’d been effective at stopping questions about his soulmate before they had started. He hasn’t changed it since Peter was born. 

Peter nods. “Mom and Dad told me that he was really famous and really old, so I had to keep my name hidden. They said that I’m not gonna meet him for a few years, because I’m weird for having a soulmate so old when I’m not.” 

“You’re not weird, Peter. It’s uncommon, but that doesn’t make you weird.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. A voice in the back of her head is screaming that she is the least qualified person to be comforting a child over… anything, really. Least of all this. Pepper has next to no experience with children and even less with soulmates. She’d gone to high school with hers, dated briefly, and parted ways upon graduation in mutual unspoken agreement that they were not the ones for each other. She hasn’t spoken with him in over a decade and wears a red cuff, indicating to anyone who cares to look that she and her soulmate are incompatible. 

She hears what might be a muffled laugh from the doorway, but doesn’t look over to check. She steels herself, but forges on. 

“It makes things… a little complicated. Tony is a very famous man, yes. Which means that if people knew about you, you’d probably be really famous too. That sort of thing can be dangerous for you.” 

“Because people might be mean about it?”

“Exactly. People can be really mean about people who are different. And Tony is… pretty powerful, because he’s so famous. Some people might want to use you to make him do things for them.” 

Peter nods. He looks down at his toy, then back up at her. “Miss Pepper?” His eyes shine a little in the low light of the room, and his voice is tiny. Hesitant. 

Oh. Something warm bubbles up in her chest. She can’t do this. “Mmmhmm?” 

“Does he… does he really build robots?” 

Oh no . She really, truly, can not do this. “He- yeah he does. I....” She looks over at May and Ben. Ben has a hand over his mouth, and from the way his eyes are crinkled at the corners she can tell he’s hiding a grin. May is not bothering to hide at all, smiling widely, eyes glinting with what Pepper can only identify as wicked glee. Pepper fights the urge to do something wildly immature, like flip them off or stick her tongue out at them, and turns back to Peter. 

“I have some photos and videos of the bots in the lab- want to see?” 

His eyes light up, and for the first time a grin stretches across his face, like the sun crests the horizon at dawn. 

“Can I?”

Oh no oh no oh no oh no . “Of course.” She pulls out her phone. 

“Awesome! Thank you!” And, before she realizes what’s happening, small arms are winding their way around her neck. She rocks back on her heels a little with the force of the hug, one arm coming around Peter’s back to steady him. 

She wavers for a minute, tossing a final panicked look at May and Ben, then delicately brings up her other arm, gently clasping him against her. He feels tiny, fragile. 

The hug is over as suddenly as it had begun, and Peter is pulling back, looking eagerly between her face and the phone, expectant. She squashes down the urge to tug him back into her arms, then cues up the first video: DUM-E and U, facing one another, mirroring each other’s movements with an air that, if they weren’t robots, Pepper would describe as confused . She, Tony, and Rhodey can be heard snickering in the background.

Peter giggles as well, and the warm, bubbling feeling lodges itself under her ribs, where, she's suddenly sure, it will stay. 

Later that evening, she stops by the cemetery on the way to the airport. Her bouquet is still there, along with an assortment of flowers and tokens left by other mourners. 

She doesn’t stay long- she’s got a flight to catch. But she knows what she wants to say now. 

“I get it- I’m sorry I didn’t, before."

A pause. And then:

“I’ve got him now. I promise.”  

Chapter Text

August 2006- January 2009

They fall into what might tentatively be called a routine. 

At first, Pepper calls the Parkers once every other week for a quick conversation. These calls are stilted, awkward; May and Ben- mostly Ben- try to get Peter to talk to her, but all the recent upheaval in his life has made him shy. Pepper gets the sense he isn’t normally like this; something about Peter makes her think that he’s usually much more cheerful and talkative. She doesn’t wonder how much of his withdrawn demeanor is due to the circumstances, and how much is due to her.

Things carry on this way, for a time, until Peter’s birthday. Somewhat serendipitously, it ends up coinciding with a minor catastrophe among their board members, which Tony promptly sends her to New York to deal with in whatever manner she sees fit. 

“God, alright, JARVIS? Send a memo to HR and Legal and- what’s this thing about again? Whatever, I don’t care, just make sure everyone who needs to knows that Pepper’s got the authority to deal with it, so I don’t have to.”  

Pepper is both flattered and relieved when Peter greets her with a shy hug. As the afternoon progresses, he relaxes more and more, until he’s chattering away and enthusiastically urging her to help him assemble the LEGO set she’d purchased him. An afternoon of sitting in her skirt-suit on the Parker’s threadbare carpet, making surprisingly easy small talk with May and Ben, and she’s gratified to find that when she leaves, she takes with her the memory of all three Parkers’ farewell hugs. 

After that, she finds herself texting them on an increasingly regular basis. May ends up being her main point of contact; Ben is a kind man, but reserved, and not as inclined towards casual conversation as his wife- or nephew, for that matter. It isn’t long before conversing with the Parker family becomes the highlight of her day. 

There are some awkward moments, some missteps- of course there are- but all in all, to her great surprise, things tend to work themselves out. Time passes, seasons roll into one another, and Pepper is slowly, inexorably drawn into the Parker family’s daily life. 

It goes something like this:

[image]

first day of Kindergarten!

Oh my god!

I know! look at him!

Please tell him that he looks very handsome, and to have a good first day.

already done

who do you take me for, Potts?

Of course, my sincere apologies, Mrs. Parker. 

Decided not to let him skip to first grade? 

we want him to be well-socialized 

unlike other super geniuses who shall remain nameless

I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. 

I’m sure

[video]

Merry Christmas!

are the bots… wearing santa hats?

They sure are. Tony insists it’s Rhodey who does this to them every year.

Although JARVIS has no record of Rhodey having entered the house so far today.

It’s a mystery.

this is propaganda

stop trying to make me believe that Tony Stark is people

Sorry, that’s actually in my job description. 

I honestly wouldn’t be surprised

oh by the way

[image]

Merry Christmas! 

Hey, I’m heading to New York next week, want to meet up for a day? 

that sounds like fun!

I’ll let Peter and Ben know

how long will you be here

?

I’ve got two days of meetings, but I can extend for a day or so.

Stark won’t mind?

He’s not coming with me. 

He just got a new car so it’s unlikely he’ll notice I’m gone, honestly.

he doesn’t seem terrifically interested in the inconvenient business of running his own company

He’s not, overly. 

good news for you I guess

should usurp him

CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts

Potts Industries

I can see the building with your name on it now

Ha, in my dreams maybe. 

well, if he disappears inexplicably and leaves everything to you I won’t say anything to anyone

Thanks for your support.

I’ve got you

so it’s asthma, for sure

Poor kid. Give him a hug for me.

hug given

some small mercies- turns out his inhalers are covered on our plan

I was certain they weren’t 

but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth

Wow! Good news! That’s so lucky!

…

yeah... super lucky

Like you said, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Pepper

[declined call]

Ms Potts

[declined call]

Sorry, super busy! In meetings at the moment. 

Virginia

Listen. I’m not going to apologize for making sure you’re all taken care of when I have the means to do so. 

I do apologize for not talking to you about it first. 

if I call you now are you going to decline?

I actually was in meetings, but I’m free now.

How much yelling am I in for?

oh, only a minor amount of yelling

Ben made me promise

the rest will be constructive dialogue between 2 and a half emotionally intelligent adults

and a negotiation of terms for our contract

Acceptable.

Wait, what’s “two and a half”?

Am I the half?

May?

You… actually wrote a contract.

yes ma’am I did

The Parker-Potts Co-Parenting Contract

read it, know it, live it

Peter would like me to inform you that he already misses you

and to thank you for making this the quote awesomest birthday ever unquote

I miss him too! And he is very welcome. 

Ben would like me to inform you that Peter is definitely going to blow his eyebrows off with that mini chemistry set you gave him 

awfully convenient of you to drop that on us and leave

There’s nothing more reactive in there than a little baking soda and vinegar. 

if any kid is going to find a way to turn that into a disaster, it will be this one

Have a little faith. 

[image]

What… what is that? 

that is what YOUR disaster kid did with “a little baking soda and vinegar”

Oh my god. 

I’m so sorry.

But I cannot stop laughing. 

I’m revising our contract 

section d, item 32: under no circumstances should a Co-Parent allow, aide, or abet the Kid in creating dangerous, illicit, or nefarious Sticky Substances

especially when they are not physically present to assist with clean-up, damage control, or disaster recovery

Ok, I’m arranging for a cleaning service to come by.

ha ha

They should be there within the hour. 

 wait really?

you don’t need to do that

Too late. 

...well, thank you

but also you’re signing the amended contract, Potts

I can do that. No more Sticky Substances for Peter, check.

How did he even make it sticky??

The result of a baking soda/vinegar reaction is basically water?

DISASTER. CHILD. 

[image]

Aww, who’s this? 

according to Peter, the coolest kid in the universe

Tell Peter he’s the coolest kid in the universe, but this guy looks like he might be an acceptable second.

Peter is very insistent, and also wants you to take back the insult to Ned

aka The Coolest Kid In The Universe

or there will be Consequences

Sorry, I meant what I said. 

[audio file]

Oh my god

I am so glad I’m alone right now

Oh my god I can’t breathe

Who’s idea was that???

There is no way Peter came up with “My name is Peter Parker. You have insulted my best friend. Prepare to die.”

I mean he’s brilliant and it’s still the best thing I’ve ever heard. 

But has Peter even seen that movie? 

...it may have been Ben’s idea.

Thank you to Ben then, truly, for that gift. 

I wish I could make that my ringtone. 

live your dreams

oh

right

Yeah. 

so. next weekend when you’re in town

Princess Bride with the Parker Family?

I wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

Peter is very insistent that I ask you

AGAIN

if you’re VERY SURE you’ll be in town for Christmas

I am VERY SURE I’ll be in town. 

Tony’s going to New Orleans for Christmas with Rhodey’s family.

So I’m in the clear.

can I ask you a question?

a me-question, not a Peter-question

Sure. Of course. 

do you really spend every Christmas with your boss? 

I mean

everyone knows his tragic backstory and all that, but

What’s my tragic backstory?

you don’t have to answer, sorry

It’s fine, it’s not really… anything. 

My Mom died when I was in college, and before that it was just us. 

So I usually spend Christmas with friends, ever since. 

and is he?

a friend, I mean

Pepper?

sorry, I really didn’t mean to pry

No

It’s okay. 

He is a friend, I think. 

Yeah. He is. 

okay

I’m glad

“Section G, item 19: the Co-Parent otherwise known as Ms Pepper “Virginia” Potts is hereby compelled to spend the weekend of her 34th birthday, dated February 12th 2008, in New York City with the other Co-Parents and the Kid, so she may adequately party it up.”

well will you look at that

looks like you’re contractually obligated

I’ll prepare the guest room

Ok to start with, you’re aware that Virginia is my actual, real, legal name, correct? 

is it? hm

Also you don’t have a guest room, you have the world’s worst pull-out couch.

Which you should let me replace, by the way. 

it’s got charm

It’s a monstrosity. 

you’ll be fine

Peter’s so excited to see you, look!

[image]

...that’s dirty pool, May Parker. 

see you soon!

[link]

congratulations!!

this is so exciting

I love babies! 

can I be godmother?

I’m suing that rag and I will not hesitate to take you down too.

sure you won’t, mama

Ben calls dibs on godfather, he doesn’t care what Stark has to say about it

even if he is this Rhodes fellow’s best friend

Ben is literally texting me right now. Telling me, and I quote:

“Sorry Pep, I’ll try to get her to stop being mean to you.”

I’m not mean

I’m supportive of you and your baby daddy

also a lieutenant colonel in the air force? 

talk about a catch

I hate you. 

hey

just be thankful they’re not printing this garbage about you and Stark

again

How did this become my life?

What did I do to deserve this?

well you went to work for Tony Stark, for one

Touche

ok this piece about the arc reactor in national geographic is...pretty compelling

Told you.

Peter hasn’t talked about anything else since he read the article

if I come home to find he’s made a mini  reactor  out of dumpster scraps I’m cashing in and Stark isn’t seeing a red cent of it

You know what, that’s valid.

seems to me like it’s a worthwhile avenue to explore

I mean, you arranging coverage of this technological marvel in renewable energy is good PR and all

but pursuing it would be even better

just saying

May... 

I don’t have a say in that. 

you have more of a say than you think

The arc reactor isn’t cost-effective. 

It would have to actually be miniaturized in order to make the cost of materials worth the output.

you don’t think Stark could do it, if he really wanted to?

I’m not sure. 

I’d like to see us move in another direction as well, you know that. 

you should talk to him

tell him he’s about to be shown up by his 7 year old soulmate

I can try. 

We’re a weapons manufacturer, you know that. 

It’s what we’ve always done.

and people can’t change?

companies can’t decide to do better?

I don’t believe that

and I know you don’t either

I’ll do what I can.

For what it’s worth.

that’s all I ask

and it’s worth more than you think

So, how’d the meeting with the principal go? 

I know about 300 lawyers in New York if we need to take it there. 

I worry about your immortal soul

that’s more lawyers than anyone literally ever needs to know

You remember I thought about going to law school, right?

yes I am aware

why do you ask?

Ouch. 

you’ll recover

it was fine, in the end

I think they finally get that we’re not going to pull Peter out of his peer group just because they think it’ll be “easier”

and we made it very clear to them that they needed to actually step up and take care of those little jerks who are picking on him

not just blame Peter for being “too smart” and try to fob him off on someone else

Want to lay down any money on how many more times you’ll have this conversation over the next 10 years of Peter’s school career?

fool's bet

also, god, a decade?

you know what, you and your 300 lawyer friends can take it from here

I’ve got you covered.

I know you do

[image]

new year new us?

Oh my god, did Peter take that?

sure did, the little shit

...actually, you know, it’s not that bad. 

For a photo of three grown adults lamenting every life choice that ever led them to being piled on that godforsaken couch.

you’d almost never guess that we were all hungover and craving death

Almost.

He got me on my good side.

kid’s got an eye

I’m never drinking with you and Ben ever again, by the way.

you say that now pepper virginia potts

but you know you can’t resist Ben and his margarita mix of destiny

Margarita mix of destiny?

it’s the drink he made me when I first met him

and now look at us

destiny

Didn’t you throw up in his shoes the first time you met him?

irrelevant

Happy New Year, by the way.

you too

it’s going to be a good one, I can tell

You know, I think you might be right. 

February 2009

Pepper wakes in the middle of the night, disoriented, with her phone ringing shrilly in her ear. She groans, contemplates quitting, discards the thought almost immediately, and contemplates murdering Tony and taking over his company instead. 

She picks up the still-ringing phone, stabs the answer button with her eyes half-closed, and says, “Tony I swear to god, you have a literal PhD in mathematics, I know you know how to figure out time zones.” 

“Pepper- it’s me, it’s May.”

Pepper sits upright, the panic in May’s voice hitting her like she’s been doused in ice water. 

“May? What is it? What’s the matter- is everyone okay?” 

“Do you know where Tony Stark is right now? Do you know if he’s- do you know where he is?” 

“Tony? What- he’s overseas, doing a presentation for the military. What does this have to do with Tony? What’s going on?”

“It’s Peter- he woke up earlier screaming, in pain. I thought he was dying- he thought he was dying-”

Pepper’s out of bed now. She hits the “speaker” function on her phone and starts yanking open drawers. Once she’s dressed she’ll need to see when the next available flight to New York is, she can get Amanda to take on some of her administrative duties. She’ll tell Tony something came up, he’s not due back for another few days anyway, except-

“What does this have to do with Tony? Wait, never mind, you can tell me later, but you know if you need anything I can get it for you, I’ll figure it out- What hospital are you at? Do you need a transfer, a specialist? I can-”

“Pepper, it’s- it’s not Peter. It’s Tony. It’s Tony’s pain.”

Pepper drops the shirt she was about to tug over her head. 

Not all soulmates share pain. Time and distance- both emotional and physical- factor in, as does the strength and duration of the pain. Most common is the sharing of sudden, traumatic events, like car crashes, gun shot wounds, stabbings; like an early warning system to tell people when something has gone terribly wrong with their soulmate. A closer bond, or emotionally charged events, can affect when and what pain is shared as well. Pepper remembers her grandfather smiling fondly over at her grandmother, talking about how he’d been proud to share his wife’s pain when her mom had been born. Many people go through life without ever feeling even an echo of their soulmate’s pain- certainly Pepper has never felt the slightest whisper of pain from her own. 

That Peter is feeling Tony’s pain now, when they’ve never met and Tony is thousands of miles away- well. There’s more there than Pepper has the ability to parse, right now. The most salient point is-

“Oh god,” she whispers. “Tony-” She needs to sit. She needs to go. She needs to call- Rhodey, Obadiah, someone. Her ears are ringing. 

It takes a minute, but eventually May’s voice filters through the tinny phone speakers. “-ou there? Pepper? Can you hear me?” 

“I-” her voice cracks. She clears her throat, then tries again. “I’m here, May.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. We can figure this out, right? You and me, we’re here. We got this.” 

Despite the circumstances, Pepper can’t help but smile a little. May has a way of projecting frantic confidence that is comforting, and familiar. She draws that bit of normalcy into herself alongside a deep, slow breath. “How is Peter now?” 

“He’s asleep. He was- he was in a lot of pain, for a bit there, but we googled some meditation exercises that are supposed to help with sympathetic pain and he did eventually fall asleep. Ben’s with him.” 

Okay. “Okay- there’s professionals who can help with this sort of thing, if it’s still bad when he wakes up. Keep me updated and I’ll arrange it.”

“Of course. And… will you, uh-” 

Pepper closes her eyes, briefly. “I have to make some calls- I’ll try to figure out what happened, and let you know whenever- whatever I find out.”. 

“Okay, that’s good. Okay.” May’s slightly too quick breathing filters over the line for a moment. 

“Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah- and, Pepper. I hope… I hope he’s okay.”

Pepper nods, even though May can’t see her. “Me too.”

Hey. 

hi!!

hello

hey

How’s Peter?

better. the pain has dulled a lot, he says

Good. That’s really good. 

He’s definitely still getting pain though?

some, yeah

what happened?

There was an attack on his caravan. Rhodey said he’d left the demonstration site shortly after Tony and they came up on the wreckage. There weren’t any survivors. 

They haven’t found Tony. 

oh Pepper

honey, I’m so sorry

for what it’s worth, I think Peter would definitely know if something happened to the bond

so that's a pretty good sign that he's alive

can you tell them that? would it help? 

The military will keep searching regardless, Tony’s too important not to. 

And they won’t declare someone killed in action unless they have proof or a body. 

I’m still trying to decide if I’ll tell Rhodey. It’ll be hard to explain how I know, but. 

It might be a comfort. 

for what it’s worth, I think you should

you should have someone to talk to about this, who’s actually there with you

I mean we’re here with you, but

you know

I do know. 

Thank you. 

hey

I also wanted to say, whether you tell him or not, well

you know there’s an open door for you, whenever you want to walk through it

we’ve got an extremely uncomfortable pull-out bed 

and unlimited hugs

Thanks May. I’ll think about it. 

Pepper doesn’t really think about it. 

She buys a ticket, drives to the airport, boards a plane, flags a cab to get her to Queens, and walks through that door.

Directly into the Parker family’s arms. 

“Hey.”

Pepper twists her neck to look over to the entrance to the living room, where May is hovering, framed in the doorway. She’s still in her scrubs, hair pulled away from her face, stray tendrils brushing her forehead and cheeks. They’re reddened and slightly chafed from the cold. Malibu is perfectly temperate in mid-February; New York, not so much. 

May’s gaze sweeps over Pepper’s body where it’s curled protectively around Peter, who’s fast asleep with his head pillowed on her shoulder and one small fist clenched tightly in the fabric of her sweatshirt. He’s drooling slightly, Pepper can feel the damp spot soaking through and clinging to her skin, but she’s not inclined to shift him, and certainly not to wake him. He’s barely been sleeping, she knows, and in repose the pain that has stamped bruise-like shadows under his eyes and etched furrows in his brow eases. 

Peter always looks younger than he is- at 7 and a half years old, all his peers have at least ten pounds and half a head in height on him. In sleep he sheds any semblance of the seriousness and maturity his brilliant mind imparts on him. Like this, he reminds her so forcibly of the tiny child she’d first met, clinging to his aunt and uncle at his parent’s graveside, that it's like hardly any time has passed at all. 

May steps lightly into the room, reaching over to brush one of Peter’s curls away from his face, sweeping a thumb over his relaxed brow. 

“I’m glad to see he’s finally getting some rest.” May’s voice is low, in an effort to keep from waking him. 

Pepper hums agreement. She’d arrived late the night previous, nearing midnight, but Peter had still been up, throwing his surprisingly strong arms around her legs almost the second she walked through the door. He’d been having difficulty sleeping- if it wasn’t renewed bouts of pain shocking him awake, or nightmares of unspecified shape and meaning, then he’d been experiencing terrifying fits in which he struggled suddenly to breathe, gasping as though he was drowning, desperate to draw air into lungs that shouldn’t be having any trouble capturing it. 

Pepper has yet to witness one of these attacks, but May had let her know about them before she’d had to leave for her night shift. The latter had been so severe it had triggered an asthma attack, and Pepper has been vigilantly monitoring Peter for any signs of an oncoming bout. She doesn’t wonder what’s happening to Tony that could trigger such attacks.  

May lingers over Peter for a moment longer, then turns her soft gaze to Pepper, and repeats the same motion. She smooths her hand over her hair, gentle, then finally down to cup her cheek. Pepper turns her face into her palm.  

“Have you managed any sleep yourself?” 

She hasn’t. She can’t remember if she’s slept at all, honestly, since May first called her three days ago. She must have; she’s never been able to power through more than 40 or so hours before her body had shut down in a bid for sleep, but if she has then it hasn’t made any imprint on her memory. She feels as though she’s been awake for years.

She hums again, this time shaking her head slightly, not enough to dislodge May. 

“And Ben’s asleep?” 

Another hum: assent. He’d gone to bed after ensuring Pepper was firmly ensconced on the pull-out couch, squeezing her shoulder with a broad, firm hand and letting her know to not hesitate to disturb him if she needed anything. May is brushing her thumb against Pepper’s cheek now, and the rhythm is slightly hypnotic.

May shifts, drawing her hand away, and Pepper’s eyes flutter open. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. 

“Be right back, hold on.” 

And she is, disappearing into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms, only to return a few minutes later, now clad in a t-shirt and leggings. She strides over to the pullout couch. 

“Budge over, Potts.” 

She slides under the blanket that’s partially covering Pepper and Peter, settling against Pepper’s back and throwing an arm across both of them. After a moment of shifting, she finally stills with a soft, satisfied sigh. 

Pepper huffs a laugh, then tries to speak. Her mouth feels slightly gummy, her tongue clumsy. She’s closed her eyes again, though she’s not sure when. May is warm at her back, the weight of her arm grounding. 

“Mmm. Won’t Ben… be… jealous?” 

“Sure will; we’ll have to catch him up on cuddle time later. But he snoozes, he loses- literally. Didn’t even stir an inch when I went in there, the lug.” May’s voice is quiet, warm as the breath that ghosts over Pepper’s neck. Pepper hums again. 

A chuckle, now. “Go to sleep, Pepper Virginia Potts. I’ve got you.” 

Two days after Pepper arrives at the Parkers', she gets a phone call. She’s on the couch, which is folded away into its usual shape, with Peter once again asleep with his head resting in her lap. May and Ben are the next room over, making lunch, arguing agreeably about the newly released Friday the 13th film. May’s a classic film buff who hates remakes as a rule, and Ben enjoys arguing in favor of them, mostly to see her splutter. 

She listens attentively to the person on the line, gently shifting Peter off her and sliding a cushion under his head. She keeps her voice low as she exchanges a few quick words, wedging her phone between her ear and shoulder so her hands are free to tuck a blanket around his sleeping form. She hangs up, curses softly under her breath, and turns to find May observing her from the doorway. 

“Something up?” 

Pepper nods, then follows May back into the kitchen. Ben is cutting carrots and cucumbers into sticks at the counter, but turns away from his work to observe her. 

“That was Amanda, Obadiah’s- that’s Tony’s business partner- his secretary. She was calling for my authorization on a few things. I have final sign off when Tony’s… indisposed, but I’m not sure it’s a smart move to be arranging any kind of merger while he’s- while the company’s in such a precarious spot. We took a hit when news about his disappearance broke, and- anyway, I’m concerned about moving too fast when everything’s so uncertain but…” She sighs, running a hand through her hair, agitated. “I’m just not sure Obadiah’s thinking things through right now…”

Ben sets a cup of water and a plate down in front of her- a ham sandwich and fresh veggies. “Is there anything you can do about it?” 

Pepper bites into the sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “I could probably head over to our New York office on Monday… the board’s here, and this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked with them in Tony’s stead…” 

“Do you want to?” 

“I’m… It seems like a silly thing to worry about, right now. Besides, Obadiah wouldn’t intentionally do anything Tony wouldn’t approve of. He’s been working for SI for over 30 years. He’s only doing what he thinks is right.”

May, sitting across the table from Pepper, eyes her skeptically. “You sound convinced.” 

“I’m- he cares about the company. And it- it doesn’t feel like my place to-” 

Ben settles in the chair next to May with a sigh. “I’m sure he does. But it seems to me that Tony Stark’s been trusting you to put out fires like this for years. I don’t see why that would change now.” 

May grins, and nudges Pepper’s calf with her toe. “Besides, think about when Stark gets back. More ammunition for your bid to be CEO.”

Pepper snorts, despite herself. “Your bid for me to be CEO, I think.” 

May waves a hand dismissively. “Immaterial.”

Ben smiles at his wife, then reaches a hand out to settle on Pepper’s shoulder, comfortingly heavy and warm. “You can do this, Pep. And what’s more, I think we both know you should. May’s right-”

“Of course I am-”

“-that when Tony’s back, he’ll only thank you for having looked after things while he was gone.”

Their confidence in her, their certainty that Tony will be returning, warms her down to core. She lets the sensation filter from her chest, furling out along her limbs, strengthening them alongside her resolve. She finishes her lunch, takes a final swig of her water, and pushes away from the table. 

“I guess I should call Amanda back, then.” 

May 2009

Over the following weeks, Pepper splits her time between the New York office and the Parkers’ apartment. Neither May nor Ben even hint that they think she should find a place of her own to stay at, and so she doesn't bring it up either. Her back doesn’t thank her for her continued use of the hellishly uncomfortable pull-out bed, but spending time with the two of them, with Peter, more than makes up for it. 

Peter’s sympathetic pain mostly subsides. That’s normal, according to Pepper’s reading. As the pain either abates for the person directly experiencing it, or as it becomes normalized, then it fades for their soulmate as well. Pepper chooses to believe that it means Tony’s healing from whatever injuries he sustained during and directly after his abduction, not simply getting used to them. 

One morning, Rhodey texts her. 

Bogey spotted near the area T went missing. Checking it out and will let you know.

Talk to you later. Stay safe. 

They’ve been keeping in touch throughout the past months, Rhodey remaining mostly overseas, though occasionally flying back to either LA where his base is, or meeting her in New York. Pepper never ends up telling him about the soulbond and the confirmation it provides, but his conviction that Tony is alive remains unshaken regardless. 

After three months of chasing futile leads and dead-ends, Pepper’s expectations are low, but he texts her every time something new comes up, and he calls her every time it inevitably amounts to nothing. 

So the morning he texts her about the bogey, she does what she always does when this happens, and puts it out of her mind while she waits for his call. 

It’s late in the evening when it happens. They’ve put Peter to bed- he’s been oddly lethargic all day, acting slightly woozy, and Pepper hopes he isn’t coming down with something. She, May and Ben are relaxing together in the living room, Pepper with her laptop open in front of her, ignoring her perpetually flooded inbox in favor of watching May and Ben’s rather cutthroat game of rummy. 

“Ha! I’m going out, sucker.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure you had more cards than that, last hand.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, show me the goods, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Let me take a look at your sleeves.”

“Are you asking me to take my top off? In mixed company?”

“I have no objections,” Pepper jokes, and laughs when May flips her off.

Her phone buzzes where it’s lying on the coffee table. Pepper reaches for it. “Oh, let’s hold on the peep show- Hi Rhodey, how did it go?”

“Hey, Pep.” 

Her hand spasms in shock, clenching involuntarily around her phone. She’s thankful for the reflex, she thinks distantly, elsewise surely she’d have dropped it. “T-Tony?” 

The living room goes silent. 

“Yeah. It’s me.” 

“I- oh my god, Tony .”

Ben’s familiar palms fall on her shoulders, and she leans into them involuntarily. She gets a whiff of May’s shampoo as a warm weight settles at her side, and May takes Pepper’s free hand into her own. 

A familiar chuckle echoes down the line. “Miss me?” 

“I- Wh- where are you?”

“Germany, now. Subjecting myself to the tender mercies of the United States Army’s medical establishment.”

“And you- you’re okay?” 

A pause. “Yeah I’m- I’m okay.” 

“I- okay, that’s good. Okay is good.” She shakes her head, trying to clear it. “When are they taking you home?” 

“Should be back in two days. They’ll take me right to the base in LA. Try not to pine too hard for me until then.”

She laughs, then, and hopes that the slightly hysterical edge to it doesn’t transfer down the line. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Happy though…”

He laughs too, softer than she remembers. “Yeah, I’m expecting many manly, rugged tears. Already got my fill off Rhodes here, but I’ll suffer through it again, I suppose. For Happy.” 

“For Happy, of course. How generous of you.” 

“I’m a generous guy.” 

She scrubs a hand across her eyes and coughs, hoping to clear the thickness from her throat. “Well, I guess.... I’ll see you in two days then.” 

“Two days.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“It’s good.” 

“Okay.” 

A beat of silence, then: “Pep?” 

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to hear your voice.” 

She smiles, and hopes he can hear it. “Yours too.”

She wakes Peter, so she can say goodbye before she leaves. 

She’s got two days to fly back to Malibu and make sure everything’s ready for Tony. There's maintenance staff who have continued to keep his home in good condition, and she’ll get someone to deliver groceries, but she still wants to look everything over to make sure nothing’s been missed. She needs to call Happy- Tony was going to call him next, but she wants to check in with him. She needs to speak to Obadiah, too- she makes a mental note to text Amanda with the news, letting her know to prepare for a whirlwind of press inquiries. She should draft a statement. Rhodey’s already started forwarding requests to debrief Tony from the CIA, NSA and DOD.  

She shoves aside thoughts of national security and PR management, to focus on Peter where he’s sprawled across his bed. She kneels on the floor, runs her fingers through his hair. He stirs. 

“Hey, Peter. Sweetheart, wake up.” 

“Mmmm... Pepper?” 

“Yeah, kiddo. It’s me.” 

He blinks at her. “What’s going on?” 

“I got some really good news, sweetheart.” 

Peter’s a smart kid; he understands her almost instantaneously, and sits up abruptly, all traces of sleepiness dissipated in the wake of the news. “Mr. Stark?” 

“Yeah, it’s Tony. They found him. He’s okay. He’s really okay.” 

Peter throws his arms around her. She leans back onto her heels, drawing him into her lap, clutching him- perhaps too tightly- to her chest. Lets her tears fall now, disappearing into his sleep-mussed crown of curls. 

He presses his face into her shoulder, and his voice comes out muffled. “And you’re gonna go look after him now?” 

She kisses his head. “I sure am.” 

“That’s good. You’re really good at that.” 

She laughs. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” 

um???

holy shit??????

did that actually happen?

Pepper????

It did, in fact, happen. 

holy shit

Holy shit is about right. 

what are you going to do?

I honestly don’t know. 

Obadiah’s trying to talk him out of it.

We’re probably looking at a 40, maybe 50 point drop on the stock market. 

Optimistically. 

 I’m keeping comments to myself.

I appreciate your restraint. 

but Pepper, don’t you think this could be a good thing?

It could.  

I’m more worried about the mindset that drove Tony to make the decision than the decision itself. 

We can figure this out. 

But he’s… in rough shape, May. 

that’s only to be expected

but you’re right, you can figure this out

SI will be ok, and so will Tony

they have you

I’m glad you’re so confident. 

But I really don’t know that…

well, it’s true

you’ve got this

and we’ve got you

That, I do know. 

can you do me a favor?

Depends, does it involve me reaching into your chest cavity and potentially putting you into cardiac arrest?

what

the 

hell

is that what that was???

Peter just about keeled over

what the fuck is going on over there

Hold on, I’ll call you. 

you better

J une 2009-November 2009

The months following Tony’s return bleed together, long days and sleepless nights spent working with departments across the company, making sure that the financial impact of changing industries doesn’t put any of their employees out of a job, occasionally going toe-to-toe with Obadiah and the board in a bid to push them forward into new areas of innovation, all layered over a haze of worry for Tony. 

He’s even more detached from the business than he had been prior to the kidnapping, barely leaving his workshop, even to eat and sleep. Pepper thinks about working with JARVIS to impose time restrictions on him, but discards the idea almost immediately. Before Afghanistan, Tony had good-naturedly accepted a certain level of collusion between her and JARVIS in the service of his well-being, but she doubts he will now. 

Things are- different now. All she can do is what she’s always done; get to work, and figure out the rest of it as it comes. 

It’s times like this that I find myself longingly thinking of the nightmare couch. 

And I realize that it’s finally happened. 

I’m officially losing it.

trouble in paradise?

Just more of the same. 

Trying to keep everyone happy and only succeeding in pissing everyone off. 

jeez

you need a break

I need a margarita, is what I need. 

well wouldn’t you know

I know a place where you can get both those things

T-minus ten days and I’m back in the city. 

Is it bad that a kid’s birthday party is the yearly social event I anticipate the most? 

I think it’s perfectly reasonable

as it is also the highlight of my social calendar

on second thought, maybe we’re just both as bad as each other

and you know what? I’m fine with that. 

Funnily enough, so am I.

ten days. 

Ten days. 

hey so, quick question

...what?

did your man fall down the stairs or something?

because whatever just happened it banged the hell out of Peter

God fucking damnit.  

oh damn big girl language

Pepper?

is everything ok?

I honestly don’t know. 

He says it was a lab accident. 

His workshop is a mess, like it is every time I go down there. 

Dummy had deployed the fire extinguisher but I didn’t see any evidence that anything burned or exploded. 

But Tony’s all bruised up. 

And he won’t talk to me. 

He’s locked me out of JARVIS’ system, he won’t tell me anything either. 

I don’t know what to do. 

hey hey hey

ok take a breath

it’s gonna be ok

listen

Stark’s obviously going through it, and that’s a lot

for both of you

but you have to realize

Pepper, all you can do is what you can do

at some point, Tony needs to take it from there

I just… want him to know I’m here for him. 

And that he can trust me. 

I want him to let me help him. 

not everyone can accept help

like that, anyway

but I think he’s checked out because he does trust you

trusts you to look after things while he can’t

and whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing is kind of besides the point

because at the end of the day, it’s on him

right now the best thing you can do is remind him that you’re there, when he’s ready

do you think you can do that?

You know what… I think I can.

And I’ve got an idea for how I can show him, too. 

Thanks May. 

any time

If I go to jail for manslaughter just know that they absolutely had it coming. 

what did Stark do?

Not Tony, for once. 

Not really.

ooh, a change of pace

The board filed an injunction against Tony.

They say we’re not recovering fast enough. 

Like they know anything, ANYTHING about what’s being done to fix this. 

Contrary to their belief this company is more than Tony goddamn Stark. 

A lot of good people have been working damn hard to correct the course and move the company forward, without the weapons manufacturing division. 

And it is absolute bullshit that they want to go back on literal months of work because it’s easier to blame Tony’s PTSD than envision a different direction for the company. 

A company that does better, instead of worse. 

...hot damn

I’m furious. 

and I’m sorry

also, in love

very much in love

but sorry you’re dealing with this

[video]

take this boon, in your time of need

And now I’m crying into my pizza. 

What is he even doing there? 

he and Ned have discovered that awful Captain America cartoon from the 70’s

so of course they’ve made themselves costumes and decided that they’re going to take care of this Hitler fellow

in the name of Truth, Justice, and the American Way

it’s pretty cute, so I’m saving the lecture about jingoism for another day

Magnanimous. 

I’m a benevolent god. 

[missed call]

[missed call]

[missed call]

[missed call]

[missed call]

[missed call]

[missed call]

Pepper

[missed call]

Pepper Virginia

[missed call]

Pep come on

Sorry I’ve been... kind of occupied. 

no shit

is it real?

It’s real. 

It’s… yeah. 

Real. 

mother fucking superheros 

Mother fucking superheros.

Chapter Text

May 2010

For the first few months after the Iron Man announcement, things are surprisingly normal. 

Or perhaps normal isn’t quite the word for it; no matter how ambivalent he acts to the danger, Tony jetting off in his “absolutely not a weapon, it's a high tech prosthesis, Pepper” to track down the remnants of the terrorist ring who abducted him, or remove illicit Stark industries weapons from the black market, or whatever the hell else he’s getting into on a given day, will never exactly be normal.

But it isn’t terrifically unusual, in that Pepper’s day-to-day doesn’t change all that much. She runs his company, handles the press, wines and dines potential investors, fields calls from SHIELD and the DOD and NSA and whichever other government agency Tony has managed to piss off that day- Pepper manages Tony’s business. Even if the nature of the business has changed, the mechanics of it really haven’t.  

But then Tony begins to act… strange. Even more strange than his usual, strange. It starts with the damned Expo- he drops the project in her lap in January, insisting that it will be just the ticket to show the world what Stark Industries has been doing since shutting down its weapons manufacturing division. 

“It’ll be perfect, Pep, you’ll see. A year-long exposition of all the most advanced scientific breakthroughs, both from our company and any other leaders in the field- though if we aren’t employing all the leaders in their respective scientific fields, what are we even doing? We should look into that too- and oh! We’ll set it for a year after we stopped making weapons. Happy anniversary to us, right?” 

“I- what- Tony, you want this done by May?” 

“Let me know what you need to make it happen- JARVIS, make sure Pepper has final authority on all finances and budget decisions, so she can get the ball rolling? Good? Great!” 

So Pepper gets to work, and gets it done, sacrificing no little amount of sleep and sanity in the process. The saving grace of the entire situation is that it brings her to New York often, and no matter the hours she’s pulling or the stress she’s under, the Parker family apartment is as warm and welcoming as ever. 

Besides, having an 8 year old science geek around is useful enough, when she's running on little more than caffeine and sheer bloody-mindedness, trying to bully her brain into coughing up creative ideas for programming and partners for the event. Peter is a constant hum at her elbow whenever she’s working at the Parkers’ cramped kitchen table, chattering about this recent breakthrough or that article he’d found the other day, it was so cool Pepper, let me grab it, I saved it just for you- 

“You are a blessing upon this earth, Peter Parker.” Pepper says, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead with an exaggerated smack of her lips. He giggles, and beams, and they go on from there. 

The consequence of all this is that Pepper spends less time around Tony than she has in her over a decade of employment, excepting the three months he’d been kidnapped. Later, she will reflect on this time period, and wonder if he’d done it on purpose. 

Silly to even question it. Of course he did. 

It’s the only way he could have gotten away with nearly dying on her.

pepper virginia potts

ma'am 

Madame

Yes? 

how expensive were these tickets????

I can't find a price for them anywhere online

I can't even find a listing for "Stark Expo Universal Season Tickets" anywhere

did you have these made just for us???

Technically I had them made just for Peter. 

And his guardians. 

Can't send an 8 year old to the world's premiere tech expo by himself. 

That would be irresponsible. And I am nothing if not responsible, thank you very much.  

you know, the longer time goes on, the more you sound like Tony Stark

You’ve never met Tony Stark. 

hush I am a human being living on planet earth I know what a Tony Stark sounds like

and babe, you’re it

you're becoming the very thing you swore to destroy

All shall love me and despair. 

Peter is reading over my shoulder and scolding us for mixing references

Hi Peter!! 

Forgive me. 

he says hi and you’re forgiven

you are going to meet us at this thing right?

I’ll be there for the opening in a few days but might not have time to sneak away. 

I’ll come back fairly frequently though, I imagine. 

Tony’ll forget about it as soon as the cheerleaders are gone, so someone will need to check that nobody’s blown it up.

do I… want to know?

Is Peter still there?

hold on

ok I’m impressionable child free, hit me

[image]

…

…

…

I know. I was vetoed. 

what a classy man the universe has tied our kid’s life to

Could be worse.

Some of us actually chose this.

 foolish mortal

when do you figure you’ll be back if we don’t see you in a few?

Probably close to the end of the month- we’ve got Monaco and then Tony’s birthday to get through first. I’ll let you know. 

great, I’ll tell the boys

and hey- thank you

they’ve been ecstatically geeking out about this since the tickets arrived

and with Peter feeling so under the weather recently

it really cheered him up

I’m glad to hear that.

Anything I can do, you know.

I surely do

<3

<3

Also, there’s an entire pavilion devoted to advancements in sustainable agriculture, so…

...I may also be geeking out about this

only a little, of course

Of course.

So Tony’s acting… strange, and Pepper is dealing with it. She’s relieved when the Expo finally launches, hoping to regain a sense of grounding, of stability. Get her head back on straight, and help Tony do the same.  

And then, of course, Pepper goes back to Malibu after the Expo’s opening ceremonies, only to discover that apparently Tony has spent her absence divesting himself of a fair few of his personal assets, up to and including the modern art collection she has spent the last decade of her life curating. 

Oh and also, apparently, ownership of his company. 

The first thing Pepper can think to do, after finishing her champagne and letting herself dazedly out of Tony’s home, is call May. She’s not really sure how she gets herself to her apartment, but before she realizes it she’s slumped on her own couch, in her favorite yoga pants and her over-sized Stanford sweatshirt, and her phone is out and dialing May Parker. 

May picks up after only a few rings. “Hi Pepper! Long time no chat- why it feels like just this morning you were texting me your terrible opinions about coffee. Oh wait-” 

“Adding sugar defeats the point- all coffee needs is a little cream, if you’re actually drinking decent coffee, that is.” The argument falls automatically from Pepper’s mouth, unbidden. 

Despite the familiar banter, May knows her too well. “Wait, what’s wrong? You sound weird- what happened?” 

“I- nothing’s wrong. It’s…” She’s not sure what to say. Thinking about it is like looking directly at the sun- every time she tries, her vision whites out. 

“Okay, well, if that’s true you’re doing a spectacularly bad job at convincing me of it. Like terrifically bad. I’m kind of impressed, actually. You’re usually not this bad at, well, anything really. Glad to see you’re spreading your wings-”

“He made me CEO.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Laughter bubbles up in Pepper’s throat. “I- he- oh my god, May, oh my god he made me CEO.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“I know!” 

May’s laughing with her now too. In the background, she can vaguely hear Peter’s insistent inquiries: “Aunt May? What’s going on? Is that Pepper? What’s so funny? C’mon May!”

“Hold on, honey. Ben, get over here.” Pepper hears a rustle over the line, then a click. She’s been put on speaker phone. “Alright Wonder Woman, tell them.” 

“Pepper? Is everything alright?” Ben’s measured, even voice cuts through her and May’s helpless laughter. He sounds fondly amused, not put off at all by this behaviour from them. 

“Yeah it’s- Tony made me CEO. I’m officially CEO now. Of Stark Industries. Me.”

May whoops, and Ben lets out an incredulous laugh of his own. “That’s- incredible Pepper. Congratulations.” 

“What’s a CEO?” That’s Peter, sounding impatient with all the grown-up talk. 

“It’s the leader of a company, honey. It means that Pepper’s the boss.” 

“Oh. Wasn’t she already?” 

Another round of laughter from the adults. Pepper is grinning so broadly her cheeks are beginning to ache. 

“She was, for sure,” Ben agrees. “But now it’s official.” 

“Oh. Cool! Congratulations Pepper!” 

Pepper wishes she could hug him, just then. And May, and Ben. “Thanks kiddo.” A lump forms in her throat. “I miss you guys so much.” 

There’s a chorus of “aw”s and “miss you too”s from May and Ben, and Peter shouts, “Then come visit!”, and Pepper feels the sheer joy of the moment bubble up through her chest: a breathless, cresting wave of anticipation for what the future holds.

oh my god oh my god are you ok??

Yeah, I’m fine. 

I mean I’m never getting in a car again for the rest of forever, but you know.

Fine.

that was scary as shit

Tell me about it.

you sure you’re ok?

Yeah, of course. Tony got the guy. 

God, am I looking forward to seeing you and Peter and Ben though. 

I am seriously in need of some patented Parker cuddle time.

you’ll have earned it, ma’am

someone posted the whole video online you know

Peter has re-watched that bit where Iron Man suits up like a million times

Ugh, I get JARVIS to block all info about how many views Iron Man videos get from Tony.

It’s for his own good.

yeah well when our kid ends up becoming a superhero I’m blaming your man

Fair.

The morning after Tony’s disastrous birthday party, Pepper’s phone wakes her, ringing shrilly. She takes a look at the caller ID, then a deep breath, bracing herself. 

“Hi May.” 

“What the hell is your man doing, Potts?” 

Despite the fact that she knows May is just looking out for Peter, she feels a frisson of irritation flash through her. She takes another breath, then keeps her voice even as she says, “May, I appreciate that you’re concerned, but I’m not responsible for Tony Stark’s actions, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t imply that I am.” 

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line, then a deep sigh. “You’re right; he’s a grown man and you’re not his keeper, or his mother. I’m sorry.” 

Pepper smiles, and keeps her voice gentle when she replies. “It’s okay. How is Peter doing?”

“Not well. I woke up to him retching into the toilet, and he’s got a wicked migraine. Pile that on top of how he’s been feeling these past few months…” May’s voice wavers. “I can’t keep holding him while he cries, Pep. It’s breaking my heart.”

Pepper feels a lump form in her throat. Peter’s asthma has been getting steadily worse in the past few months, and the stress from being sick has caused all kinds of secondary effects, like rashes and sinus irritation and dizziness. The specialists Pepper has been paying to look at him haven’t been able to find a solution, yet, and despite his attempts to keep his spirits up, it’s been hard on Peter. Hard on all of them. 

And now an 8 year old child, her- her kid, is dealing with what has to be a hell of a hangover, never mind the bruises and scrapes Tony no-doubt acquired during his fight with Rhodey.  

“I don’t know what to do, May. I’ve never seen him like this, not in all the time I’ve known him. He’s always been a little reckless, but never anything like Monaco, or his party last night…” The story spills out of her, Tony’s drunken antics, his fight with Rhodey. “I just- I don’t know how to get through to him.” 

May digests that for a long moment. “Does he not realize that what he’s doing is hurting other people?” 

Pepper sighs. “I doubt he’s even considered it. You know how rare sympathetic pain is, and particularly between soulmates who’ve never met. And as far as I know, he’s never felt anything back from Peter, not that he’d have much reason to, thank god...” 

“I wasn’t just talking about Peter, but you’re right. He has no reason to think there’s someone else reaping the consequences of his actions.” May pauses, then continues, resolve coloring her voice. “Pepper, you know you have to tell him, right? About Peter? I get why you haven’t, but this is untenable. We can’t let him keep hurting our kid like this.” 

Pepper closes her eyes. “Yeah. I know.” 

May is quiet for a long moment. “You’re flying into the city tonight, right?” 

Pepper picks up her watch from her nightstand. “Yeah. I need to go to the office for a few hours, then I’m flying out. I should start getting ready, as a matter of fact.” She’s glad she thought ahead and packed before the party. 

“Okay,” May says. “Okay. So when you get here we’ll start brainstorming a way to tackle this thing: you, me, and Ben. We’ll figure this out; knock some sense into him.” 

Pepper can’t help but smile. “What would I do without you, May Parker?” 

“Flounder helplessly through life, I imagine.” 

“Without a doubt.”

Later, on the plane, Pepper absently signs paperwork that Natalie passes her, mind furiously turning over the events of the past few days. She thinks about the conversation she’d had earlier that day, with May. She thinks about Peter’s mysterious illness, his pain for which they could find no source. Thinks about the way Tony had looked today, with that stupid basket of strawberries. How he’d looked a few days- just a few days?- ago, on that airplane, talking about how Venice was a good place… to be healthy.

“Natalie, can you do me a favor?” 

“Of course ma’am, anything.” 

“Can you look up any illnesses that fit these symptoms? Irritation in the eyes, nose, and mouth. Dizzy spells. Acute asthma or worsening asthma symptoms. Hives.” She deliberates for a moment, then adds: “And potentially chest pain, but don’t hinge it on that one.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Nothing about Natalie’s voice changes; if she finds the request odd, she doesn’t say it. When Pepper looks over at her, there’s nothing in her posture or facial expression that would suggest… anything at all, really.

“Natalie… Do you know something? Something you’re not telling me?” 

“I’m afraid medical diagnostics are not in my repertoire, ma’am. Give me a few hours and I’ll have something.”

Pepper scrutinizes her for a long minute, then nods. Natalie smiles pleasantly and walks to the other end of the plane, sliding into her seat and appearing to diligently attend her tablet. 

Pepper is gripped with certainty, then. Something is wrong with Tony, and has been for a long time- months, potentially. And for some reason, her assistant knows what it is, and is keeping it quiet. 

Her assistant, it turns out, is a super-spy, and the thing that is wrong with Tony- or was wrong with Tony, if he and Agent Romanoff are to be believed- was that he was dying. Of palladium poisoning. 

Every time she thinks about it, her mind recoils, repelling the thought like she’s trying to force the ends of two magnets together. 

Tony had been dying, and he never said a word to her. Everything that’s been going on these last few weeks- months even- from the Expo, to the promotion, to the party; it was because he’d been hurtling over the edge of a cliff, without bothering to ask for a parachute. 

And then when it had all come to a head, when some madman had used a perversion of Tony’s own technology and the arrogance of his enemies to attack the Expo, he’d had the nerve to tell her it was fine, it was fixed, it was all taken care of. She needn’t worry herself over it. 

And then he kissed her. 

She wakes up the next morning, tangled in his sheets, him slumbering away peacefully next to her. She watches him for a few long moments, settles her hand over his heart to watch it rise and fall with the cadence of his breaths. Traces her fingers around the edges of the arc reactor, watches the last of the faint black lines- lines she’d stared at the night before, until he’d urged her eyes up, drawing her into a kiss to remind her, thoroughly and vigorously, that he was, in fact, alive- fade slowly away, like they’d never existed.   

She tears her gaze away, looking up to his face, to find that he’s awake and watching her, faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

“I am so mad at you,” she blurts out. 

He blinks. “Okay, well, not exactly the rave review I’d like to have received- and that I’ve come to expect, quite frankly- but-”

“Tony.” 

He regards her for a moment, serious brown eyes flickering over her face. He sits up with a sigh, and picks up one of her hands, placing a delicate kiss on each of her fingertips. Then he holds her hand against his cheek, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. 

“I’m really sorry, Pep. I know I’ve been- these past few months... I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

She lets out a sigh of her own, and leans in to kiss him, slow and sweet. Then she draws away, pressing her forehead to his. “I need you to get it through your thick skull that I’m here for you, okay? No more lone ranger bullshit.” 

He nods, looking a little startled- she doesn’t usually curse around him, when she’s working, but. Well. She’s certainly not working now. And she blames May, anyway, for being a bad influence. 

Which reminds her- 

“I need to go check on- the Expo, and everything. I guess I don’t have an assistant to help out anymore, either...” She’d texted May briefly last night, traded mutual assurances of safety, but she wants to be sure. And she needs a moment to breathe. To think. 

He nods, wary, eyes searching her own. She smiles, and kisses him again. “We’re okay. But we’ve got some serious talking in our future, alright?” 

He smiles, sounding genuine when he replies: “I’m looking forward to it.”

She’s accosted by Peter the moment she steps through the Parkers’ door. He hits her like a bullet train, and she lets out a grunt as he throws his arms around her middle, excited chatter already tumbling out of his mouth. 

“Pepper! Oh my god Pepper, it was so cool! There were robots, did you see? And everyone was freaking out, and I lost May and Ben- don’t worry they found me like, really fast, I stayed where I was when I last saw them, like you guys always tell me, I was good- but first there was all these robots flying around, and shooting at people, and everyone was running and screaming! But I wasn’t scared, Pepper! I helped Iron Man!” 

She startles. “You what?” 

“Yeah! Well kind of, I was gonna shoot a robot with my propulsor, the one that I built? Right? But then he landed, like, right in front of me, and shot it instead- I think he thought my propulsor was just a toy- and then he said “nice work, kid” and then he flew away, and it was so awesome, Pepper!” 

There is… a lot to parse, in that onslaught of words. First and foremost: “Wait, those propulsors you built were functioning?” She remembers May sending her the photos of him wearing the little devices, designed to glow like Tony’s, and the cheap plastic Iron Man helmet Ben had found at a bodega. 

He pulls away to give her a look. “Uh, duh. What would be the point otherwise? They’d just be hand flashlights, basically.” Then he droops. “May and Ben took them away, though. And I’m grounded for making weapons and not telling anyone. Even though they’re not weapons, they’re a flight apparatus,” he finishes, expression a little mulish. 

Oh thank god. This kid. She looks up to find the adults in question hovering in the doorway, expressions torn between amusement, exasperation, and relief. Pepper reaches out with one arm, the other still firmly curled around Peter, and the two step forward in tandem. They squish together into a group hug, right there in the front hallway, Peter wedged between them all- to his half-hearted protests- and hold on for a long, long time.

Peter wanders off to his room, eventually. He’s still grounded, so no TV, computers, or tech allowed- including anything he’s building himself- but he can entertain himself easily enough with books. Pepper sits down in the living room with May and Ben, telling them the whole story. 

She’s probably not supposed to talk about SHIELD, but fuck it. A government agency put spies in her company, and waited to do anything to help Tony until the eleventh hour, for no good reason that she can discern. She’ll talk crap about them to her friends if she wants to.  

May and Ben listen raptly, enthralled and enraged by turns. It takes a while to calm May down after she finds out that Peter’s mystery illness had actually been the result of Tony’s body slowly succumbing to poison, and even Ben needs a few minutes to collect himself. They believe Pepper, though, when she assures them that Tony appears to be in good health now, and Peter’s renewed energy seems to be evidence enough that he was telling the truth that the danger had passed. 

They trade terrifyingly knowing glances when Pepper reaches the end, skipping lightly over what had happened after the robots were defeated. There’s a long silence when Pepper’s done, then May leans over and slaps her knee, getting up from the couch. 

“Let’s go grab a coffee, Potts. You look like you could use one.” 

Pepper shoots a final pleading glance at Ben, and he smiles pleasantly back at her, the traitor. Then she follows May out the door. 

They end up at a nearby cafe, sitting on the outside patio, tucked sufficiently far away from their closest neighbor that none of the other patrons should be able to hear their conversation. 

May is merciful, waiting to start until their coffee orders have arrived and Pepper has had the chance to take a few fortifying sips.  

“So,” May begins, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Where’d you sleep last night?” 

Then she laughs as Pepper groans dramatically, dropping her head into her hands. The story spills out of her in a rush, not that there’s much left to tell. They kissed, and then… well. May just keeps laughing, until Pepper describes the conversation, half-joking, that she and Tony had about her quitting. 

“You’re not serious.” 

Pepper says nothing. 

“Pepper!” 

She slumps in her seat, coffee cradled between her hands. “They’re all going to say that I slept my way to the top.” 

May gives her a look, half pity, half fond exasperation, reaching out across the table to squeeze Pepper’s hand. “Pep, I say this with all the love in my heart possible: they have been saying that you slept your way to the top practically since you were hired, and there is nothing you can do to stop them.” 

Pepper winces. “That was different.”  

May shakes her head. “It really, really isn’t. Look, I get it. It feels different because now you actually are sleeping with him, but let’s be real. People have always said this shit, they’re always going to say this shit.” She looks at Pepper over the rim of her glasses, gaze sharp enough that Pepper has to tamp down on the urge to squirm a bit in her seat. “This is about you undercutting your own damn success, now that you’re sleeping together.”

Pepper opens her mouth to respond to that, then closes it. 

May smiles. “Pep. Babe. You are, without a doubt in my mind, the best possible person for this job. One of the smartest things Tony Stark has ever done was promote you, and he knows it. It doesn’t matter if anyone else does, or even if you do, always. What matters is that in 4 years of knowing you, I’ve never seen you meet a challenge you couldn’t overcome.” She raises her brows at Pepper. “You gonna let Tony Stark be the thing that breaks that streak?” 

Pepper lets out a strained laugh, and uses the hand not currently clutching May’s wipe at her eyes. “Of course, you’re right. I can’t in good conscience let that happen.” 

“Damn straight,” May says, grinning, then sobers. “Hey, what’d I say? If you’re going to step up for Tony Stark-”

“-step the fuck up. I remember.” Pepper smiles, a little. Then she frowns.

“Are you implying Tony would date himself?”

“Are you implying he wouldn’t?”

June 2010 - April 2012

It’s strange, the way that life can change so drastically while remaining utterly normal. Or rather, how change- small, large, earth shattering, and everything in between- can become the new normal. 

Every once in a while, when she’s feeling particularly pensive- when Tony has withdrawn, into his own head, or bad memories, or both, shutting her out; or when work is overwhelming and the press is cruel; or when it’s been too long since she was able to make it to New York to see May and Ben and Peter- she’ll find herself on the balcony of her apartment in Malibu. She’ll brew herself a cup of tea and stand in the night air, all the lights shut off, so she can look over the gleaming lights of the city below, and she’ll think about all the moments in her life that have led her to exactly where she is. 

Every triumph and tribulation growing up, trying and failing to build something real with her own soulmate, getting into and then graduating Stanford, bouncing around terrible jobs with worse bosses, discovering a flaw in Stark Industries’ financing that got her fucking pepper-sprayed, then got her a job- 

And then Tony, giving her a nickname she’d come to adopt for herself, Tony, devastated and drunk and raging against the universe giving him a match so late in life, Tony, sending her to meet the Parkers and unknowingly setting her on a path to find a family she’d eventually call her own, Tony, standing in front of a crowd of reporters and announcing to the world that he’d built himself salvation out of scrap metal- 

She thinks about all these moments in her life and senses, somewhere down in the marrow of her bones, that every single one of these will be eclipsed, eventually, with grander, greater, more spectacular ones. It’s… strange, almost incomprehensible, to contemplate the future and think that anything could top the events that have already occurred, that everything that’s already happened has just been a prelude to- what, she’s not sure. Regardless, the future spins out in front of her, the enormity of it overwhelming, dwarfing, terrifying. 

She’s all in on Tony- she knows that, she’s known that. Whatever he does, wherever he goes, she’s ready to be there with him. That Iron Man press conference, all those years ago- it was the opening of a Pandora's box. She’d made the decision to stand by his side after that, and now-

Now there’s no going back.

hey there, Betrayer of All Womankind

You could TRY to be a little nicer about this. 

what are you talking about? I’m nice

that moniker is badass

I mean, you apparently have the ability to validate or denigrate all of women’s achievements across all of history

just with who you do or do not date?

powerful

Yep, feeling really powerful over here. 

Pepper Potts, most powerful sugar baby in the world. 

What a legacy. 

I will pay you good money to put that on your business cards

please, if you really loved me, you’d do this one simple thing

don’t you love me, Pepper?

No. 

ouch

You’ll survive. 

serious talk for a moment: what the hell did you ever do to Christine Everhart?

because this editorial in Vanity Fair is…

harsh

Well, that one I actually might deserve a little. 

I basically slut-shamed her for sleeping with Tony. 

oh wow

in public?

In private. 

But also in front of Justin Hammer, once. 

yikes

Yep. Lesson learned.

[link]

wait just one minute

are you moving to New York?

like, actually?

It’s not quite a move, not full time. 

But we are kicking off this renewable energy infrastructure project in New York. 

It’s part of our, “Sorry our founder’s slightly shady history led to a bunch of robots attacking Queens” initiative.

So I’ll be around.

And eventually I’ll even have my own place to stay, with a decent couch. 

wait hold on, let’s not go crazy here

if you don’t spend at least 70% of your time in New York eating oreos on our excellent couch and yelling at the tv while watching Breaking Bad

did you really even visit New York?

Oh I will definitely still be doing that. 

Anything else would just be against the natural order of things. 

glad to hear you’ve got your head on straight

 holy shit have you seen the news?

I sure have.

we are living in a simulation

that is some comic book science nonsense

literally HOW does any person survive being frozen for 70 years

the sheer tissue damage I can’t imagine

Pepper I’m mad

You sound exactly like Tony.

never say that to me again

Like, eerily like Tony. 

He delivered the same rant when the news broke, almost verbatim. 

I have goosebumps. 

correction: never SPEAK to me again 

<3

Weird world, huh?

tell me about it

we’ve got super soldiers and robot men and giant rage monsters and who knows what the hell else

honestly, what’s next?

I’m going to go with the old standby of aliens. 

Definitely aliens. 

that’s what Peter said too

He’s a smart kid. 

goddamn

May 2012

Pepper has Happy take her directly to the Tower, once she lands in LaGuardia. She spends the whole drive on her phone, throwing all Stark Industries’ considerable resources into the cleanup, search, and rescue efforts occurring throughout the city. She fields texts from Ben- he and Peter are stuck in the subway, but unharmed- and sends a text of her own to May, who was on shift at the time of the attack and who Pepper imagines will be working for some time to come. 

I love you. Stay safe. 

I love you too

look after our boys

all of them

your man did a hell of a thing today

I know, and I will. 

She splits from Happy in the Tower’s entryway- him off to coordinate with the security teams, her into the elevator to get to the penthouse. 

She steps out of the elevator to find the floor is occupied. It’s a wreck- there’s what looks to be a man-shaped indent in the floor- she seriously hopes it wasn’t someone throwing Tony around that did that- and the windows are all smashed, glass everywhere. Sprawled across various surfaces and pieces of furniture, looking beat up and exhausted, are what has to be the oddest assortment of humans Pepper’s ever seen. 

Agent Romanoff is over by the bar, next to a well-muscled blonde man who appears to be wearing a quiver of high-tech-looking arrows. There’s a shirtless man sitting huddled in a chair, clearly trying to make himself seem smaller than he is, hands curled around a glass of dark liquid- brandy maybe, or scotch. 

There’s a veritable mountain of a man standing by the opening where the window used to be, long blonde hair flowing to his shoulders, wearing an actual cape, an entire bottle of bourbon clenched loosely in his fist. 

On one of the couches is someone who must be Captain Steve Rogers- he’s wearing the famous uniform, torn and dirty though it is- and has the same wholesome good looks she’s been seeing splashed across newspapers and gossip rags for the last six months, since he came out of the ice. And sitting next to him, bruised, battered, and blessedly alive, is- 

“Tony.” She breathes. He’s across the room in an instant, it feels like- one minute he’s staring at her, surprise and delight written across his face, and the next he’s crushing her to his chest, one arm looped around her waist, the other buried in her hair, kissing her as if his life depends on it. 

He’s not wearing his suit, and she’s in heels, so she has to duck her head down to get a good angle. His lower lip is split, and she can faintly taste copper as it begins to bleed.

They break apart and she presses her forehead to his, basking in the feel of his body against her own, the warmth of his breath fanning over her face. 

“So tell me, Ms. Potts. Exactly how much trouble am I in, then?” 

She huffs out a laugh. “So much trouble, Mr. Stark. Look at what you’ve done to my Tower.” 

She pulls away enough to scrub a hand over her eyes, and takes the moment to get her bearings. Tony pivots away from her, keeping one hand firmly on her waist, and gestures around the room. 

“Well honey, I guess I should introduce you to my new fantasy football league. Team, this is Ms. Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and also the best woman on the planet.” 

Agent Romanoff scoffs at Tony, but smiles warmly at Pepper. Pepper smiles back. “Good to see you again, Agent Romanoff.” 

“And you, Ms. Potts.” She gestures at the blonde man next to her. “This is Agent Clint Barton, my partner.” 

Pepper shakes his hand. His smile is kind, something a little mischievous in his eyes. 

The tall man in the armor and cape moves toward, but instead of shaking he bends over her hand to press his lips briefly against her fingers. “I am Thor, God of Thunder, Crown Prince of Asgard. It is a pleasure to meet the ruler of Stark’s domain.” 

She grins, slanting her eyes over to take in Tony’s disgruntled face. “Hmm, can’t say I mind the sound of that. Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” He straightens and backs away, shooting Pepper a conspiratorial wink as he does. 

Captain Rogers is next, shaking her hand with a firm grip and a bit of an awkward smile. “Ma’am.” 

Pepper raises her brows at him. “Captain.” 

Finally, the shirtless man steps forward, but doesn’t extend his hand. Instead, he waves, lips twitching into a tentative smile. “Hi I’m uh- Bruce. Banner. Bruce Banner.” 

She blinks. That explains the shirtlessness then. “Oh, Dr. Banner. Your research has been marvelously helpful to some of the work Research and Development is doing- anti-electron collisions, right? And selective protein inhibitors?” 

He looks startled, and Tony squeezes her waist. She can feel his gratefulness and approval without even looking at him. 

“Uh- I- yes. Yes. Among other things.” 

“Of course. It’s an impressive body of work. Melissa- Dr. Melissa Worthwright, she’s our Chief Research Officer- would absolutely die to know I was speaking to you. I had to ban the whole innovation department- Tony included- from the labs once, when your research about applied gamma radiation in radiophysics was published, because they’d been locked away in there for 36 hours straight.” 

Banner looks startled, and shoots a glance at Tony. “Really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head, big man. It was some exciting theory that I turned into even exciting-er applied mechanics.” 

Pepper shoots a wink Banner’s way, and he smiles at her, stronger now, shoulders relaxing by degrees. 

Tony tugs her over to the- amazingly intact- sitting area, flopping onto a couch and pulling her down with him. The rest of the group settles in around them, drinks in hand- Pepper eyes the bottle in Thor’s hand speculatively, wondering if he’ll let her take a swig before he downs it all- and conversation picks up around them, nebulous, meandering: just a bunch of superheroes relaxing after a long, hard day at the office. Imagine that. 

Pepper wonders about her life, sometimes. 

She turns her head to watch Tony, for a moment, as he watches the people in the room. Then she leans over, keeping her voice low. “You’ve already named them, haven’t you?” 

He looks startled, and a little caught-out, but he smirks. “Can I keep them? I promise I’ll pick up after them, and everything.”

She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose the upper floors of the Tower do need a re-model, now…”

The look Tony gives her then is bright, and beaming, and she can’t help but pull him into another kiss.   

It takes her longer than she likes, to make her way back to the apartment. She leaves the gathering of Avengers- despite Tony’s objections- to check in on how the company’s disaster relief efforts were proceeding, and ends up working late into the night, sending emails, bouncing from phone call to phone call, conferring with the constant flow of harried employees darting in and out of her office. 

The next day is more of the same, with the added fun of a midday press conference and several phone interviews with various news outlets. Tony and the other are escorting Thor and his brother Loki- the madman responsible for the attack- away from the city so they can return to their home planet- 

(Aliens, the voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like May says, Mother fucking aliens.)

-so they need someone to manage the press, keep the metaphorical hounds of their trail.  Pepper is more than happy to do it, but it does mean that eventually she has to admit that there won’t ever be a “good” time to stop working and go see her family. So, somewhere around 6 PM the day after the attack, she shuts everything down, tells her equally overworked staff to go home, and heads off to Queens. 

She ends up arriving at the same time as May, running into each other in the foyer of the building. Pepper takes one look at May- sweaty, hair limp and greasy, scrubs rumpled- and promptly drops her laptop bag on the ground, pulling her into a crushing hug. Then she ushers the exhausted May upstairs and into a hot shower. Peter and Ben come home shortly afterwards, worn out from a day of helping distribute water, food, and medical supplies in some of the city’s harder-hit neighborhoods. 

Another round of hugs, Ben squeezing her so tight he lifts her clean off the ground, and Pepper sends them both off to change into comfortable clothes. She orders pizza, then keeps Peter occupied while Ben slips into the bathroom to join May.  Finally, clean and cozy, the four of them pile onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and fuzzy blankets, to watch movies and bask in each others’  warmth, the mutual reassurance that they’re all home, and together, and safe. 

Now it’s late and Pepper- having opted to spend the night, since Tony will be out of town until tomorrow- is working on filing some emails before turning in. The others have all headed to bed- at least, so she’d thought. 

“Pepper?” 

Pepper looks up from where she’s stretched out on the couch, a lone lamp and the glow of the laptop screen the only sources of light in the room. Peter is lingering in the entrance to the living room, head ducked and shoulders hunched. He’s swimming in an old sweatshirt of Ben’s, the hem of which he’s twisting in nervous fingers. 

Pepper frowns. “Peter? Why are you still up, kiddo?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mutters, eyes cast down, watching the ground. 

She sits up a little straighter and sets her laptop aside. She reaches a hand out to him. “C’mere then.” 

He’s across the room in an instant, burrowing into her side. She wraps him up in a tight hug, resting her cheek on the top of his head. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything.   

“I had a nightmare.” His voice sounds small. She hums sympathetically, but doesn’t interrupt. “About... about Mr. Stark.” 

That makes her arms tighten reflexively. She waits for him to go on, but he remains silent. “Was it about the attack?” she probes, gently. 

She feels his forehead rub against her collarbone as he nods. “The- the fall.” 

God. Thousands of handheld cameras and cellphones had caught the footage, plastering it across social and traditional news media. Tony, hurtling through the air, tumbling end over end, no sign of life, no light shining out from his chest-

She presses a kiss to his hair. “That was pretty scary, I know. But Bruce- the Hulk- caught him, and he’s fine. Totally safe, I promise.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything, just wriggles closer. After a moment, she realizes that his breathing has picked up. She pulls away enough to look at his face. 

It’s streaked with tears. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, and smooths his hair back from his forehead. 

“I- Pepper, he-”

“Shh, it’s okay.” 

“No it’s-” Peter takes a deep, shaky breath. “I felt his heart stop, Pepper. It stopped.” 

She stares at him. 

His eyes begin to well with tears again. He rubs his own chest with one hand, right over his heart. “I felt it, right here. It hurt, and then it was gone, except it wasn’t like I wasn’t hurting anymore. I still hurt, but I- I could tell he was- he-” 

Pepper shushes him again, softly, and draws him back against her, keeping her breathing deep, controlled. Rubs his back, lets him cry it out into her shoulder. Feels an ache that has nothing to do with soulmates or sympathetic pain lodge in her own chest. 

It’s a long time before either of them sleep. The next morning, May and Ben find them curled up on the couch, Pepper cradling Peter’s smaller body against her own, his face tucked into her neck, her arms wrapped protectively around him.

December 2012

Save me from men. 

babe, all you literally have to do is say the word

name a time and date and it’ll be you, me, and the courthouse

Ben’ll have no problem being my side piece

You sound confident about that. 

oh we’ve discussed it

Pertaining to me, specifically, or just in general? 

both

we’re prepared for all eventualities

Nice. Communication is good. 

what’d he do?

Oh, it’s not just him. 

Today’s my lucky day, every man is being awful. 

aren’t they always?

except for Ben

he’s a gem

Honestly replace all men with Ben Parker and the world would be a much better place. 

screenshotted and sent to him so he can cry

anyway, dish the goods

Alright so: 

Firstly, Happy is wonderful at his job and has worked for us for a long time, but he IS going to be the cause for a lawsuit over hostile work environments and I wouldn’t blame anyone at this point. 

to be fair you name a grown man Happy and you’re basically asking him to be maladjusted

A 300% increase in employee complaints since he took over as official Head of Security. 

300%!!!

yikes

And then, one of my old bosses scheduled a meeting with me for today, and I knew he was going to be weird and flirty because he was always like that at work. 

ugh

kill him

And he was, but also I think he’s making some kind of biological weapon?? 

Also he’s hot now, which makes this worse. 

rude of him

good thing rude hot men who make weapons aren’t your type

Excuse you. 

if the shoe fits... 

Ugh. Anyway I shot down his proposal. 

And then.

AND THEN. 

oh god

I came home to this: 

[image]

WHAT IS THAT

WHAT THE FUCK

I DON’T KNOW. 

WHY DOES IT HAVE BREASTS

I! DON’T! KNOW!!!!

I HAVE QUESTIONS

YOU AND ME BOTH.

After everything that’s happened- the bombing, Happy’s coma, the attack on the house, Killian- Pepper should be less surprised that May drives all the way to Malibu to track her down. 

Her phone is currently on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, like all the rest of her belongings. Her first- foolish, naive- priority after the attack had been getting Maya to safety and figuring out how she could best help Tony from afar, once she realized he was alive. And then- 

Well. 

She’s been in SHIELD custody since the fight at the docks, holed up with Tony in a borrowed lab while he worked frantically to stabilize the Extremis in her. Then he’d gone almost immediately into surgery, and the result of it all is that she’s barely had the time to think about getting a new phone to text or call May with, let alone do the thing. 

She’s sitting with Rhodey in the recovery room, watching over a drugged and groggy Tony while he drifts in and out of consciousness, when they hear a ruckus out in the hallway. Rhodey gets to his feet, hand reaching for the gun holstered at his hip, when Pepper places her hand on his arm. She thinks she hears- it’s hard to tell, over the sudden pounding of her heart ringing in her ears- but it sounds like- 

“May,” she blurts, and dashes out the door. 

She’s standing in the hallway of the private, very exclusive, very secure hospital, surrounded by the security detail SHIELD has assigned, getting right up in the face of the nearest agent. 

Because Pepper’s best friend in the entire world is, at her core, an insane person.

“Let her through,” Pepper demands, in her best, most authoritative, “I’m CEO of the world’s premiere tech company, do not test me” voice. 

The circle of agents opens and May darts through, a little wild-eyed, and she and Pepper fling themselves at each other at the same time. 

“Holy shit, holy goddamn fuck, Pepper. We thought you were dead.”

“I’m so sorry, we’ve been- god I don’t even know where to start- how did you even find me?”

“It wasn’t hard, this is like the most expensive hospital on the west coast-”

“So you decided to just, what, wander around until you found me? What if I hadn’t been here?” 

“I’d have gone to the next most expensive hospital on the west coast.” 

“What, do you have a list?” 

“Duh.” 

There’s a cough from behind them and Pepper turns to see Rhodey, wearing a bemused expression, standing in the doorway to Tony’s hospital room. Behind him she can see Tony, awake now, sitting up in bed and staring at her and May with wide eyes. 

Pepper grabs May’s hand, tugging her into the room and away from the disgruntled-looking SHIELD agents.   

“Tony, Rhodey,” she says, swiping tears from her eyes with one hand, the other still clutched in May’s. “This is my very good friend May-” 

She catches herself before reflexively giving the last name. Parker is a common last name, but Tony is a genius. Even though he knows nothing about how Peter’s guardianship had changed, it would be just like him to start paying attention now. 

Tony eyes May skeptically. “Good Friend May? Good Friend May? I’m your boyfriend- why is this my first time ever hearing about Good Friend May?”

May laughs. “Well it’s certainly not my first time hearing about you, Tony Stark.” She looks him over, critically. 

“Now,” she continues after a minute, voice brisk, “I’m taking my Good Friend Pepper out for lunch. You’ll have to entertain yourself for the rest of the day. You’re a smart man, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” 

Then she tugs Pepper back out the door, letting it close decisively behind them, cutting off Tony’s spluttered objections and Rhodey’s startled laughter.

Retelling the story takes them through the drive to the restaurant, ordering, drinks, and dinner. 

"Holy fucking shit," May says, succinctly, when Pepper finishes. 

"Yep." 

"And he's- done know? Actually done?" 

Pepper sighs and fiddles with her fork. "I don't know that he's... done, exactly. I think it's more like, he's ready to move on from needing it, the way he did before. Ready to get better." 

May eyes her. "Do you want him to be done?" 

"A part of me... yes. But the other part of me wonders if he'll ever really be satisfied, if he's not helping people, you know?" 

"There are other ways to help people. Ones that don't involve putting himself, my best friend, and- oh yeah, my kid- at risk." 

"Believe me, I know." 

May pushes her glasses up her nose, agitated. "I know we talked about it, when he was going off the rails last year- should we tell him, about Peter?" 

Pepper frowns, thinking it over. "I don't know that it would necessarily make a difference, but we should talk to Ben about it- Peter too, for that matter. He's old enough; he should have a say." 

May nods. "Ben and I've broached the topic with him a few times, but he gets pretty cagey when we do- or well, about as cagey as an eleven year old can get, anyway. I think..." She trails off, brow furrowed. 

After a moment, Pepper prompts her. "May?" 

May sighs, heavily, and leans back in her seat. "I think he wants Tony to want to find out about him, to meet him. I think the idea that we have to force the issue upsets him."

Pepper winces. "I understand that. I just don't know that we have any other choice." 

"Yeah."

They lapse into silence. Finally, Pepper breaks it. "Well, we don't have to deal with it right this second. Let's wait until we can have a conversation with Ben and Peter about it. And who knows; maybe the point is moot. Maybe this is it, for Tony." 

"Do you believe that?" 

Pepper smiles, a little sadly. "Not remotely. But we actually are moving to New York this time- I don't know if you heard, but terrorists blew up our house-" 

"-gosh, did they? Wow-"

"-so let's give it some time. Wait until we settle in, let Peter think it over. We can wait until he's ready." 

May nods in agreement. "Absolutely. It's his decision, ultimately." 

"And hey-" Pepper leans across the table, grabbing May's hand again. "Thanks for coming all the way here. It means- I'm really glad to see you, after everything that happened." 

May squeezes her hand. "Any time, Pepper Potts. No matter what else happens, I've always got your back."

"Same," Pepper says, with a firm squeeze of her own. "Always."   

Chapter Text

December 2015  

The call comes in the middle of the night. 

When she hangs up the phone, she sits in bed for a long moment, staring blankly down at the device in her hand. 

"Mmm, honey?" That's Tony, shifting in bed next to her, blinking up at her blearily. He shouldn't be up, she thinks, looking at him. Last week he'd fallen suddenly, violently ill for several days and is still recovering, and she doesn't want him to lose any ground that he's gained since then.  

"You should be resting," she says. Her voice sounds very far away, even to her own ears. 

He shifts towards her, brow furrowing. 

"FRI, lights at 30% please," he says. A warm light suffuses the space. He's asked for it to be sufficiently low enough to not cause strain, after the darkness of the room, but her eyes begin to sting anyway. 

He sits up, abrupt, and leans toward her, bringing up a hand to her face, wiping a thumb across her cheek. 

"Pep? Babe? What's wrong? Are you okay? Who was that on the phone?" His voice sounds urgent. 

"It was the hospital," she says, mouth moving before she can register telling it to. "There's been an accident."

Tony insists on getting Happy to drive her. 

She protests- she's not an invalid, and it's three in the morning- but he says that if she won't let him take her then it has to be Happy. 

Even now, like this, she can recognize that Tony coming along would be a bad idea. Tony Stark showing up at a hospital in Queens in the middle of the night is bound to cause a fuss; there'll be candid shots of him- and anyone he's with- on every Avengers watch blog and twitter feed within half an hour of him showing up.

There's probably already whispers going on among the staff that the Pepper Potts they'd been asked to contact was, in fact, the Pepper Potts. Best to minimize the attention drawn to the situation, as much as possible. 

She hears footsteps on hardwood and looks up, watching him as he draws closer to where she's sitting on the edge of the bed. He's got her shoes in one hand- her running shoes, and distantly she's grateful he grabbed them and not heels or flimsy ballet flats- and a small duffel bag in the other. 

He kneels, setting the bag on the ground beside him, and slips her shoes onto her feet, tying the laces securely. When he's done he looks up, placing both of his hands- broad and strong, mechanic's hands, she thinks absently- on her thighs. 

"I can still come with you," he says. "I'll wear a funny hat and giant sunglasses and tell them my name is Sony Tark." 

Her eyes are burning again. She closes them, huffing out a weak shadow of a laugh, and shakes her head. "It's okay. Thank you." 

"Alright," he says, reluctant. "Anything- literally anything- you need, or they need, call me and I'll make it happen."

She nods. Her eyes trace the worried lines etched into his brow, the creases at the corners of his eyes. Tries to summon a smile for him.

"Hey," he says, lifting his hands to cradle the back of her head gently. "Don't worry about anything here, okay? It doesn't matter- it doesn't even exist, alright?" 

She nods again. 

He kisses her softly, then, once on the lips, before gently tugging her head down so he can place another on her forehead. He doesn't pull away, and she can feel his lips brushing against her skin when he speaks. "I'm so sorry, Pepper." 

There's something huge and pulsing stuck in her throat. She manages to push words out past it. "Me too."

When they get to the hospital, Happy is opening her door for her before she even realizes they've come to a stop. She’s not sure where the time went- it feels like moments ago Tony was handing her into the car- but suddenly she can feel the sharp rush of cold winter air on her face, and when she looks up Happy is holding out a hand to her. 

She takes it, letting him pull her out of the car, and shakes her head. The chill of the December night stings her cheeks, sending shivers racing up her spine. The sharp bite of it chases some of the fog from her mind, and she spares a moment to feel grateful for the clarity. 

Happy rests a hand on her shoulder. “You want me to wait?” 

Pepper shakes her head, trying to force her face into a smile. “I’ve got this. Thank you.” 

He looks her over, mouth pressed into a thin line, but after a moment, he nods. “Alright, boss. You call me if you need a ride anywhere, alright?” 

She rests a hand over his, squeezing his fingers briefly. “I will.” Then she turns, takes a deep breath, and strides into the hospital.

They’re in the surgical wing, waiting in a small room that’s been provided to them. She’s not sure if it’s the time of night, or the nature of the surgery, or perhaps just kindness and sensitivity from the staff, but she’s relieved to see that the waiting room is private. 

Pepper pushes the door open slowly, not wanting to startle them. May turns toward her when she enters, blinking at Pepper like she’s not entirely certain that what she’s seeing is real. Peter doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at his hands. 

He’s covered in blood.

There’s a pile of scrubs on the chair next to him- clearly the hospital staff thought to offer him something to change into. Blood has stained his sweatshirt, dark purple against the blue fabric. She looks down to see that it’s splattered across his hands, soaked into the knees of his jeans, like he was kneeling in it. 

She walks cautiously toward the two. She doesn’t take the free seat on May’s side, instead kneeling on the ground in front of them. May’s eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, but if she’d been crying before, she isn’t now. She looks pale and gaunt, hollow-eyed, like something has scooped out the fire and spark that Pepper is so used to seeing and replaced it with something else, something… empty. 

May’s got one of Peter’s bloody hands clenched tightly in hers, and Pepper rests her own hand gently on top of their clasped ones. Peter shifts in his seat, turning his head to look at her. 

There's a splatter of drying blood across his cheek.  

“Peter,” Pepper says, keeping her voice as low as possible. It still sounds shockingly loud, disruptive in the fragile silence. “Do you want to get cleaned up, sweetheart?” 

May jolts, a little, like that hadn’t occurred to her, but Pepper just squeezes her hand reassuringly. 

Peter just looks at her, blinking slowly. A small wrinkle appears in his forehead as he frowns. “I… I don’t…” 

Pepper shushes him, reaching up to gently smooth his curls away from his forehead. “It’s okay, don’t worry.” She looks back at May, that terrible sense of vacancy still lingering in her eyes, and squeezes their hands once more. Then she stands. 

“Let’s get you home,” she says.

Pepper drives them home in May’s car. Later she’ll recognize that she was not, perhaps, in the best frame of mind to be driving anyone anywhere, but the hour is late and even the New York streets are deserted. 

When they arrive back at the apartment, Peter and May follow her upstairs, as silent and listless as they’d been in the hospital. It makes her uneasy, the wrongness of their quiet compliance itching under her skin. She wants desperately to be able to do something, say something, to break their stupor, but viciously represses the urge. 

She unlocks the apartment door and gently directs them toward the kitchen, taking a moment to lean her forehead against the wall and gather herself. She just needs to focus on the next thing, then the thing after that. She can get them through this, if she takes it one step at a time.  

She leaves them sitting at the kitchen table, and goes into Peter’s room to grab clean sweats and a t-shirt. She looks around for his glasses so he can take out his contacts, but gives up after a few minutes of rummaging around fruitlessly. 

Into the bathroom, then, and she sets the clothes on the counter. Turns the water on, waits until it warms up. Back into the kitchen, to grab a trash bag. Peter gets up with only a little prompting, and follows her back to the bathroom without complaint. 

He revives a little as she’s gently urging him to remove his bloodied sweater and jeans, blinking at her under the harsh fluorescent lighting, shivering in his boxers and undershirt despite the steam permeating the air. 

“You’ve got this from here?” she asks, gentle. He blinks at her again, then looks at the shower. Looks down at his blood-splattered hands and arms. Nods. 

She nods back. “Call me if you need anything.” 

She goes back out to the kitchen to find May sitting listlessly, right where she left her. She settles a hand on May’s shoulder, pulls her up, then over to the sink. There’s blood on her hands, transferred from Peter’s as she’d clutched them in the waiting room. Pepper turns on the water, waits, tests it. Once it’s warm she gently guides May’s hands under the stream. Works soap into a lather, watches rust-colored water swirl away down the drain. Shuts the water off and dries both their hands on a tea-towel. A few nudges get May moving down the hallway. 

When they reach the bedroom, May hesitates in the threshold until Pepper gently guides her through. She helps May peel off her rumpled clothes and step into leggings and a soft shirt. May hesitates again when Pepper steers her to the bed, but Pepper rubs a hand, soothingly, up her arm. May slides under the covers at her urging, curling up on her side, face turned into the pillow. 

There’s a soft noise at the doorway, and when Pepper turns, Peter is standing there, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. Pepper holds out a hand. After a moment, he stumbles forward. She draws him to her, pressing a kiss to his damp curls while he rests his head on her collarbone. Then she pushes him toward the far side of the bed and he crawls in, May automatically shifting so he can lay with his head on her shoulder, hand twisting in the fabric of her shirt. 

Pepper mutters softly that she’ll be right back, then goes back out to the main apartment. Downstairs to the dumpster with the bag of bloodied clothes, then back up. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her jacket in the front hall closet. Puts out the lights, and checks that the door is locked behind her. Grabs three water bottles from the fridge. 

Then she returns to the bedroom. A quick check of her overnight bag shows that Tony had neglected to pack her any sleeping clothes- a distant part of her registers a frisson of amusement, and she huffs out what might, in any other circumstance, have been a laugh. 

She’s too tall to fit into any of May’s clothes, so she slides under the covers in her jeans and t-shirt. Tucks herself around May’s body, settles an arm over Peter. Rubs soothing circles into his back. 

Slowly, she hears Peter’s, then May’s, breaths even out, relaxing into an exhausted, irrepressible sleep. She stays awake, listens to their breathing filter through the dark. 

Waits for dawn to break.

Shortly after the sun rises, she slides out of bed. 

She might have dozed, briefly, but mostly she’s running off the few scant hours of sleep she got before the phone call roused her. She puts coffee on to percolate, then turns toward the cupboards to start pulling out pans, thinking vaguely of eggs and turkey sausage. She’s had more than a few breakfasts like that in this apartment, laughingly telling May to stay seated at the table, they want their meal edible thanks, her help is neither required nor appreciated. May flipping her off and nursing a coffee blearily, whining that it’s too early in the morning to deal with Pepper’s bullying. Ben shooing them both out of the kitchen with a stern twitch of his spatula, admonishing the two of them to get a room, already-

She sets the frying pan down on the counter, harder than intended, flinching at the loud crack of metal hitting formica that cleaves through the early morning quiet. She grips the edge of the counter until her knuckles go white, breathing deliberately, in through her nose, out through her mouth. Then she does it again, and again, until she feels like she can stand without her knees collapsing beneath her. 

She puts the pan away, pulling her phone out with hands that only shake a little, and calls a nearby diner for delivery.

May wakes shortly after the food arrives. Pepper’s got a small portion on a plate for herself, the rest in the oven to keep warm. When she sees May in the doorway she rises abruptly, stepping reflexively toward her. She stops herself, not wanting to overwhelm. 

May’s eyes rise to meet hers, and to Pepper’s relief she sees the spark of awareness in them, of life, that had been missing last night. She opens her arms and steps forward at the same time May does, collapsing into one another, each of them leaning on the other for support. 

After a few long moments, May speaks, voice hoarse. “You know that old cliche about waking up and forgetting, for a second, that something awful has happened?” 

Pepper hums in sympathy, running a hand gently through May’s hair, fingers working to untangle some of the knots that sleep has left in it. “Is that what happened?”   

May huffs out something too sharp-edged and bloody to be called a laugh. “I wish.” She’s silent for a moment longer, then continues, voice low. “Waking up to a world where this wasn’t happening to us, even for a few minutes, sounds like a dream. A mercy.” 

She reaches up to tap herself lightly on the chest, right in the center of her breastbone. “But there’s no forgetting. Not for me.” 

Pepper thinks vividly, then, about Peter, all those years ago now, sobbing in her arms and telling her about how he’d felt Tony’s heart stop. She closes her eyes and clutches May tighter. 

Neither of them move for a long, long time.

It helps, to have things to do, to keep her mind and hands busy. She’d made a list while May had been sleeping, itemized by priority with the people they needed to contact, the things they needed to arrange. 

There’s not a lot of it that Pepper can do- she’s never met any of May and Ben’s other friends in person, only heard of them in stories- and she can’t handle any of the official things, like notifying Peter’s school that he’ll be out of classes until further notice, or making arrangements with the funeral home. 

Instead she brews coffee, brings May- and Peter, when he eventually rouses- food, gently cajoles them into eating it. She drafts an obituary and, with May’s blessing, a short announcement to post to Ben’s infrequently-used social media pages, once all the relevant direct notifications have been made. 

She holds May’s hand while she makes call after call, voice brittle but even, explaining the situation to friends, family, and coworkers. Peter sits with them at the table, unspeaking, but from the way he’s bent over his phone and occasionally wipes at his eyes, she assumes that he’s told his friends as well. 

She gets texts from Tony- quick little things that dance around any serious topics, musings and anecdotes and complaints about the bots- that come as close to coaxing a smile out of her as is possible, right now. Rhodey texts her his condolences, which she has to wait to respond to until her eyes clear, and to her surprise she receives short messages from both Natasha and Steve. She’s never spent much time with the Avengers, just as Tony’s never spent much time with May and Ben and their infrequently-mentioned nephew- though for vastly different reasons, of course. She’s touched to know they were thinking of her, and wonders idly if it was Rhodey or Tony who told them. 

By midday the word has spread enough that the apartment starts receiving visitors, and Pepper takes over the job of thanking people for their condolences, accepting their offerings of pre-made meals and baked goods, and gently turning them away at the door so that neither May nor Peter has to. If anyone recognizes her they say nothing; but then again, most of the neighborhood is used to seeing her around. They either know who she is and don’t care, or they’ve dismissed her as a normal person who bears a striking resemblance to Tony Stark’s girlfriend.   

The day slips away like this, task after task methodically scratched off the list, until night finally falls and the three of them once again crawl into bed. This time when Pepper curls up behind May- in some of Peter’s sweatpants, which are loose in the hips and short in the ankle, but perfectly acceptable for sleeping- she falls asleep nearly as soon as her head hits the pillow. 

It’s almost as good as forgetting.

When they return home from the funeral the following day, Peter immediately goes to his room and shuts the door. 

Pepper’s instinct is to follow him, to keep him in sight so she can be certain he’s safe and cared for, but she squashes the impulse. Instead she focuses on May, sends her to get changed into comfortable clothes, and moves into the kitchen to set the kettle on for tea. 

She hadn’t succeeded in getting either of them to eat much before the funeral- but then again, she’d barely managed to force down a piece of buttered toast herself, before calling it quits. She heats some leftovers for herself and May. If Peter doesn’t come back out for food within a few hours, she’ll bring him some, but for now she lets him alone. 

He does come out, eventually, and Pepper can hear him rustling around in the kitchen from where she’s sitting on the couch with May, watching Jurassic Park on low volume. 

To her surprise, he joins them after eating, hesitating in the doorway. Without a word, May and Pepper scoot apart, lifting the blanket they’d been sharing. Peter dives in, burrowing in the warm space between them, resting his head on May’s shoulder with a soft sigh. Pepper tucks the blanket back in around them, pausing to run her fingers through Peter’s hair, briefly, and restarts the movie.

Peter falls asleep somewhere between the second and third Jurassic Park movies, and eventually May bundles him off to bed. Peter’s too big to be carried, having recently sprouted up in the way of teenage boys- and packing on a surprising amount of muscle, given that he doesn’t play sports- but May wraps him up in the blanket and urges him gently off the couch and down the hall, pausing only long enough for Pepper to plant a goodnight kiss on his forehead. 

She sets about with the usual pre-bedtime chores: checking the locks, ensuring the electronics are shut down, ferrying any stray dishes to the sink. It’s a little early for bed, but the time of year means that the sun has long since set, and it’s been an unimaginably long day. 

The funeral already feels as though it was ages ago, settling in her mind with the vague distortion of memory already obscuring it, turning it hazy and smudged at the edges. She feels as though she’s aged ten years since watching the plain wooden casket lower into the ground; since watching first Peter, then May, carefully pour a shovelful of dirt into the grave; since pouring her own shovelful, trying to focus on thoughts of closure and acceptance as dirt spattered dully against pine. 

She settles into bed, propping herself up against the headboard, keeping one of the bedside lamps on. She scrolls through her phone, mostly to check her texts- she’d discovered the day prior that she can’t currently access her email: every time she tries, less out of the honest desire to get back to work and more out of habit, a little pop-up cartoon Iron Man flashes across her screen, wagging his finger at her exaggeratedly. 

She shoots a final text to Tony- Going to sleep now, love you - and sets her phone aside as May enters the room. She climbs into bed, settling into Pepper’s side, Pepper’s arm automatically coming up around her. She rests her head on May’s. “Peter get to bed alright?” 

May hums. “Yeah. Nearly fell asleep with his contacts in, before I reminded him to take them out. Why he doesn’t just wear his glasses, especially while we’re- we’re mostly at home, I don’t know.” 

Pepper snorts softly. “Watch, he’s going to tell us he’s managed to lose or break them, again .” 

May shakes her head, lips twitching into the barest of smiles as she says, “I blame you for that. Kid learned a long time ago that you’re an easy mark who’ll replace anything he manages to lose or destroy.” 

Pepper rolls her eyes. “Sure, whatever you need to do to make yourself feel better about your disaster kid.” 

“Actually, I think at this point it’s fair to say he’s Ben’s disaster kid. Man left us alone to deal with it, we can foist the blame off guilt-free, I figure.” 

The words sound casual, reflexive- an old joke between the three of them, familiar banter dropping out of May’s mouth before what she’s saying really registers. 

Her teeth clamp together with an audible clack, and Pepper’s muscles lock up, her hand spasming where it’s resting in May’s hair. 

The room is silent for a long, tense moment. 

Then May snorts, the sound escaping her in a sudden, involuntary rush, and then slaps a palm over her mouth to try to muffle the helpless laughter that tumbles out after. Giggles bubble up in Pepper’s throat, spilling out of her mouth before she can stop them, and before she knows it she and May are laughing, helpless and manic, fruitlessly trying to stop and only succeeding in making each other laugh harder. 

“Oh my god, May,” Pepper gasps out, between bouts of laughter. “Oh my fucking god.” 

May turns her face into Pepper’s shoulder and her back heaves, the next sound that tears out of her throat less a laugh and more a chest-wrenching gasp for air. Pepper’s own laughter dies in her throat, and from one moment to the next she’s clutching a desperately sobbing May to her body.

All Pepper can do for her is hold her, so that’s what she does, stroking her hair and rubbing small, soothing circles into her back. May feels impossibly fragile in her arms, the knobs of her spine standing out against her skin as Pepper runs her fingers over them, whispering soothing nonsense into her hair. 

Eventually the crying slows, then stops, May’s breath evening out. She’s silent for so long Pepper wonders if she hasn’t fallen asleep. She’s thinking about maneuvering them so they’re laying down, reaching to turn off the light, when finally May speaks. 

“The first time I ever got sympathetic pain was from when Ben got in a car accident.” 

Pepper draws in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything. 

“He broke his collarbone that day, and a few ribs. Nearly cracked his skull open- he had a mild concussion- and the hit to the head knocked him clean out. All I felt was this sudden, intense surge of pain, and then- nothing, all that sensation gone, snuffed out like a candle.”

Her voice trembles a bit, on that last, but she continues. “And I thought- this was only a few months after we met, so the relationship was very new- I thought that had to be it. He was gone, so soon after I’d finally found him- I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. 

“I freaked out, called his friends, his work, anyone I could think of. It was actually Richard who reached out to me- he was just barely a teenager then, nearly a decade younger than Ben, but he was a sweet boy, thoughtful. Peter’s so much like him.”

Her voice hitches, and Pepper squeezes her, reminding her that she’s there, and listening. “He told me what happened, the hospital Ben had been sent to. That he was okay, just in surgery, and that the prognosis was good. That I wasn’t alone.” 

May lapses into a silence that Pepper doesn’t dare break. She’s not sure she’d have anything to say, anyway- there’s a weight like a stone in her throat, dragging any words she could possibly think of back down, settling in her gut like lead. 

“I had no idea what to expect, with sympathetic pain, with how it- how it would feel to lose him. But once you’ve felt it, there’s absolutely no way to compare the two. It’s not pain, Pepper, not like anything I’ve ever felt. It’s… nothingness, like where I used to have a heart and lungs and ribs I’ve just got empty space. And I know there’s nothing I can do to fix it- I’m going to feel this, his- his absence, every day for as long as I live.” 

May pulls away slightly, looking up at Pepper. Her cheeks are streaked with tears, her eyes red-rimmed and flooded with a kind of desolate helplessness. Pepper’s chest aches with the desire, foolish and futile, to erase that look from her face forever. 

“I’ll never celebrate another milestone where I won’t be thinking about how he should be there to share it with me. When Peter graduates high school, college, gets his first job, gets married. Birthdays, holidays, promotions... No matter how happy I am, I’ll never not be missing him.”

Pepper shuts her eyes, tugging May forward so their foreheads are pressed together. May’s crying again, and Pepper can feel the hot splash of tears on her own cheeks. 

“I don’t know how to do that, Pepper. I don’t know how to spend the rest of my life missing him.”

May’s voice shakes, cracking like glass on her words. “Pepper, I’m so, so tired.” 

"Sshh, I know," she says, cradling the back of May's head with one hand, drawing May's face back into the crook of her neck as she begins to cry again in earnest, broken and wrung-out. "I know." 

She can feel the exhaustion, the weight of a future with such a heavy void, settle into the marrow of her bones. She squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her lips to May's hairline. 

"I know," she whispers again.

There’s nothing else to say.

Pepper strides through the lobby of the Tower, nodding briefly at the receptionists and security guards as she passes, and makes her way towards the private elevator. She gets sideways looks from the staff- she’s almost never seen in public in anything less put-together than business casual, and she’s been unreachable for a week. Pepper doesn’t take vacations, so even in a company this size, the fact that she’s been out of office will have spread swiftly across departments. 

She keeps her face pleasantly neutral and ignores the glances, the way that standing in this lobby, bright winter sun flooding through the windows, makes her feel uneasy, displaced. The scrutiny prickles under her skin, and she breathes a sigh of relief when the elevator doors close behind her. 

“Welcome back, Ms. Potts,” FRIDAY’s voice says as the elevator begins to ascend. “Should I inform the Boss that you’ve returned?” 

She shakes her head. “Don’t disturb him, FRIDAY, but thank you.” 

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” 

She makes her way to the bedroom once she arrives at their floor, stripping off her clothes to get into the shower. Ducks her head beneath the warm stream, lets the water pour over her. Lets her mind wander. 

The problem is, she’s become too accustomed to the world stopping whenever hers does, she realizes. 

It’s the fundamentally self-centered perspective of a person whose best friend and lover is a superhero, she supposes. When something earth-shattering happens to her, or the people she cares about, it’s happening to everyone, the whole world stopping to watch, to mourn. 

She’s never thought about it as a privilege, before, never enjoyed the idea that the most frightening and painful episodes in her life have been elevated to the status of myth by the press and public. She’s never enjoyed the fact that something like the attack on New York, or the horrific destruction in Sokovia, or even long before that, Tony’s abduction by the Ten Rings, have become spectacles for public consumption and political maneuvering when the people she loves are still suffering for them, every day. 

But the selfish part of her wants the world to recognize that another seismic event has occurred, a missile blast to the bedrock of her life. She’s living- they’re all living- in a fundamentally different world now, a world without Ben Parker. The fact that only a relatively small number of people know- only a small number of people truly care- is almost unbearable to her. 

She turns off the water and steps out of the shower, ruthlessly pulling her mind away from those thoughts. She’s done this before- with her grandparents, as a child; with her mother, in her early twenties. She can move through this; she can bring May and Peter along with her. She knows she can. 

She just has to keep it together. 

She gets dressed- soft sweatpants and one of Tony’s old t-shirts- and makes her way out to the kitchen, thinking vaguely of food. When she steps out of the hallway, she stops in her tracks, blinking.

“Oh,” she says. 

Tony jumps a little, twisting around to look at her, mouth opening for a moment before snapping abruptly closed. They stand there awkwardly, staring at each other in surprise, before jolting into speech. 

“I told FRIDAY-”

“When did you-” 

Pepper stops at the same time Tony does. He shakes his head ruefully, gesturing for her to go first. 

“I was just saying, I told FRIDAY not to bother you.” 

His hands twitch at his sides as he shakes his head again. “She didn’t. I just came up for-” He gestures at the counter, where she can see the fixings for a sandwich laid out. 

“Oh,” Pepper says. “Right.”

Tony turns toward the counter. “You want one?” 

“I could eat, thanks.” 

She slides into a seat at the island, watching in silence as he puts together two sandwiches, pours two glasses of sparkling water with lemon, and finally slides the food across the granite countertop toward her. He doesn’t sit, instead leaning slightly against the counter as he eats. 

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. “So, how’s- uh, how’s your friend May? I mean, considering.” 

Pepper attempts a smile for him. “She’s alright. Back at work, now. She says it helps to keep busy.” 

He nods. “Yeah, I can see that. And uh- they have a kid too, right?”

“A nephew. He’s 14- lost his parents, god, almost ten years ago now.” 

“Poor kid.” 

Pepper opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Instead she looks down at her sandwich. It’s gone curiously blurry. 

A hand lands on her shoulder. She shudders, the familiar scent of Tony’s cologne filling her nostrils. 

“Pep? Honey?” 

She claps a hand over her mouth, a second too late to catch the gasp that escapes her, and then she’s being tugged off the stool, into Tony’s arms. He wraps her up tight, crushing her to his chest.

Finally- finally- she presses her face into his shoulder, and sobs, and sobs, and sobs.

hey

can I ask you a favor?

Of course. Name it.

I’m still on nights, and I was wondering if you could go hang out at the apartment 

To look after Peter? 

sort of

I caught him sneaking in late last week- really late

I didn’t say anything because he promised me it was a one-time thing

but I’m… not so sure that’s true

What would he be doing out so late?

Visiting Ned? Or that girl he talks about, Michelle? 

maybe

but I feel like he’d just tell me if he wanted to spend more time with his friends

especially now

No problem. I’ll try to get him to talk to me. 

thanks. love you

Love you too.

It’s a little past midnight when Pepper finally hears Peter’s bedroom window open. 

She can hear a faint rustling sound- him changing maybe- and she slowly closes her laptop, lid snapping shut with a quiet click. 

The noises in the other room cease, and then Peter’s voice calls out, cautious. “Hello? May? Is that you?” She hears the soft footfalls of bare feet on carpet, and then Peter emerges from the hallway, halting in his tracks when he sees her, sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Pepper?” he asks, wary. “Wh-what are you doing here?” He nervously tugs on the sleeves of his sweatshirt, pulling them down past his fingertips. 

She raises a brow, keeping her voice even. “May asked me to stop by- she was a little concerned about you, being alone all the time.”

He shrugs, not meeting her eyes. “You were here, like, three days ago.” 

“Alone at night, then.” 

“It’s fine- you guys don’t have to worry about me.” 

Pepper smiles. “I hate to break it to you, kid, but May and I do pretty much nothing but worry about you.” 

He turns away from her, walking towards the refrigerator, but not before she sees a muscle in his jaw jump. He pulls out a jug of water, then rummages around in a cupboard for a glass. “Seriously, Pepper. I’m fine.” 

She hums, watching his shoulders tense as he remains standing at the counter, back turned toward her. “Where were you, tonight?” 

She sees his fingers flex on the glass. “Nowhe- I was at Ned’s.”

“Right. And you climbed up the fire escape instead of coming through the front door because…” 

“I- I forgot my keys.” 

Pepper sighs. “Kiddo, you’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” 

When he doesn’t say anything, shoulders hunched up so far they’re nearly touching his ears, she stands up, taking a few steps across the small kitchen to lay a hand on his shoulder. He’s trembling, slightly. “Just talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on?” 

Peter slams the glass down on the counter. With a noise like a gunshot, it cracks clean in half, water splashing everywhere, soaking into the sleeves of his sweater. 

He whips around, yanking his shoulder out from beneath her hand, and cries, "Oh my god, can you stop? I don’t need your help, Pepper! You can’t fix this, so can you just leave me alone!" 

She takes a step back. 

He looks angry, and a little shocked, like he didn’t intend to yell. She’s never heard him raise his voice in anything other than excitement, and the words hit her like a punch to the gut. 

They stare at each other, the silence between them spinning out, whisper-thin and dangerous, straining under the weight of Peter's words. 

His eyes shine, a sheen of tears catching in the low light. He's shaking. 

“Oh, baby,” Pepper says, chest aching. “Sweetheart.” 

Slowly, like a cliff sliding into the ocean, Peter's face crumbles. A gasping, wrenching sob escapes his mouth, and he hunches over. Pepper closes the space between them in an instant, and he collapses into her the moment her arms come up around him. 

She holds him, rocking back and forth, while he sobs into her shoulder, huge, desperate cries that sound like they're being torn from his throat. It goes on for what feels like forever, until Pepper hears a change in his breathing, a choked, wet hitching in his throat. 

She pivots their bodies, closer to sink, and within seconds Peter is heaving into it, meager remnants of the dinner he must have eaten earlier splattering against the metal. 

She rubs his back, and when he's done she guides him back to rest his head on her shoulder. With her free hand, she tugs a new glass out of the drying rack, then fills it with cool water. She encourages him to take small sips, leaving the tap on so that the flowing water can rinse away the mess in the sink. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, so quiet she almost misses it. “I’m so sorry.” 

She squeezes him tighter. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. I promise.” 

He makes a noise in the back of his throat- whether agreement or denial, she’s not sure. She lets him be for several more moments, content to keep rocking him softly. 

“I didn’t- I didn't mean to worry you," he says, haltingly. "I just- sometimes it’s easier, to… not be here.” 

She nods, knowing he can feel her cheek rubbing against the top of his head. “I get it.” She pauses, not wanting to make it about her, but carries on after a moment of deliberation. “You know my Mom passed away, when I was younger?” 

“Yeah. You don’t- you don’t talk about her much.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I think about her all the time, though- not as often as I did when it first happened, but random things remind me of her constantly. Sometimes I’ll be in a dressing room and my first reflex will be to stick my head out the curtain and get her opinion. Or I’ll hear a song and think about how she’d love it. Or I’ll be with Tony and his friends and I can practically hear her yelling at me about getting in over my head.” 

She pulls away, taking Peter’s chin in her hand and tipping his face up to look at her. She smiles. “Or I’ll look at you, and I’ll think about the way she’d never let me live down the fact that I somehow ended up a- a parent.” 

“Never let you live it down?” He asks, voice still a little shaky.   

She chuckles a little. “Oh yeah. I was very, very vocal about how I didn’t want kids. Obnoxious about it, in the way that only young twenty-somethings can be.”

“But you… changed your mind.” 

She pokes him lightly in the forehead. “You changed my mind. I’m still pretty sure I wouldn’t want to carry children of my own- but then, I don’t need to. I’ve got you, the greatest kid in the universe, and I’ve had May and-" Here her voice falters, but she swallows, and presses on. "-and... and Ben with me through this journey, the best co-parents I could possibly have asked for.”

His face screws up, like he’s trying to force back another wave of tears. “I keep... waiting, for it to get better, but it-”

She kisses his forehead, pulling him back so she can tuck his head under her chin. 

“We are going to get through this, Peter, one day at a time. Truth be told, it doesn’t get better, or even easier- not exactly. But you get better at navigating it, at dealing with the bad parts and remembering the good.” 

“It feels so far away,” he says, voice small. 

She sighs, squeezing him tighter. “It probably is. The next little while here is going to be... unimaginably hard. But we- May and I- we’ve got you, kid. And you’ve got us.” 

“I- I know.” He sniffs. “I really am sorry for yelling.” 

“I forgive you.” Then she reaches up to tug on one of his ears, gently. He squirms, making a noise of protest, but doesn’t pull away. “But no more of this sneaking out, okay? If you need to get out for a bit, and May’s at work, you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.” 

She pulls back, making sure she can see his face. “Promise me, alright?” 

His lips thin for a moment, then he meets her eyes, nodding firmly. “I’ll call you if I need to, I promise.”  

She smiles and kisses his forehead. “Alright. What do you say we clean this mess up and camp out in the living room, huh? Put some movies on?” 

He smiles back, stepping out of her hold. “Sure, sounds good.” He waves an arm a little awkwardly, where he’s clutching the cuff of his sleeve in his fist, stretching the wet fabric out over his wrist and hand. “Let me just take off my- my sweater. Get a dry one.” 

She shoos him off, then turns toward the slowly-drying mess on the counter. She discards the broken glass- lucky that it had only cracked into two pieces, not shattered- and mops up the rest of the water. Then she stops, staring down at the formica for a long moment. 

There, right where Peter had slammed the glass, is a perfectly circular dent in the countertop.