Archive of Our Own

When he first wake up, it was all a mess in his head.
His mind was floating, floating in places that he never thought that he could remember or reach, there was a venomous pain in his body but his brain was floating in confusion and numbness.
The first that he noticed is that he had no idea who he was.

"Peter, wake up." - A woman with a long brown hair said, her face was blurry, he wanted to remember her, he felt like she was important but he couldn't.
He felt her gentle hand shanking his shoulder.

"I don't know why you think you leavin-"

"Peter, man... I think you should start avoiding this guy." - He listened to his friend but the advice fell in deaf ears.

"You are my favorite loser anyway." - The girl said and Peter felt himself getting red as a tomato.

"Don't you dare turn yourself against me-"

There was the mess of voices in his ears right, all of them scratching into his ears, whining, screaming, whimpering, begging, whispering but all of them always calling for: Peter.

Peter. His name was Peter.
In this almost trance state, he remembered things that he thought that the time had erased completely from his mind.
He could remember his mom, her laugh, her hair, her smell, the little frown that she would do almost everytime that his dad talked about their jobs.
He remember the feeling of her arms around him, nice and warm around him.
The feeling of security that their would bring to him made him remember her existence in his life.

"Petey, my name is Petey and Mommy is gonna give me a puppy for Christmas..."

And then was a huge nothingness in his mind, he remember his mom or at least who he thought that was his mom but where is she?

"The last time I saw my mom and dad I was four going on five-
I wake up and my aunt said that the plane had crashed."

Aunt? What aunt?

The pain - the pain was never going to stop at least in that moment it felt like it. - Everything felt broken, out of place, he couldn't move not even a finger.
The feeling was almost as a storm that forming around him and consuming all of his being and he knew that this was bad.

So he tried to keep himself in the few nice places in his mind, the ones that bring him some peace, the places that the pain was weaker as a wind, a whisper.

"My Daddy is a hero,
He help me grown up strong!
He always is in the right
and he know what is wrong!
My daddy tell me stories
and tell me where I belong!
I am a good boy that just
want to play along!
So with all my heart,
I gonna sing this song!
Because he reads me books, he ties my shoes. So Daddy, I love you!"

He would sing stupid rhymes like that all the trip, his Mom would clap her hands together trying to create a rhythm, his dad was too focused in the road to look at the baby seat, it was one of the last visits that they did for his maternal grandfather before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer.
It was a bad common in the Fitzpatrick's family.
He remember the beach, the waves in the sea. They were nice, so nice...

After sometime when dreaming about the soft waves and sun stopped being enough and a mixture of pain and awareness took over again, he realized that he should start asking himself where he was but he really didn't care at this point.
The only thing that he later would figure it out that wasn't just one messy memory in all this was a hand.
A gentle hand that wasn't from the lady with brown hair, it was slightly heavier and more affectionate in some way.
Almost like it was apologizing for something.
Then the hand got his jaw, forcing it open, he was afraid and tried to open his eyes but he couldn't, they were too heavy. Instead he felt something small going down his throat and then he felt nothing anymore: No pain, no fear.
There was nothing and he was happy.

-

He is not sure how long it took to him open his eyes for the first time but it surely took longer than it should.
He blinked some times, trying to get his eyes used to the light and the feeling of nausea was in his stomach but he didn't think too much about it.
The only thing that surprised him was the presence of a man that he never saw.

Or least he thought that he didn't.

"You..." - There such a surprise in his voice, even that Peter honestly saying was almost kicking the bucket, the man in front of him didn't had all up either.
There are dark bags under his eyes looking like he hadn't slept for days at least the man was better than him, he was pale almost sick looking.
The man surprise was gone then a little bit of shock and then happiness took over every single one of the others emotions, there are tears of joy in his eyes. - "You finally awake!"

Peter tried to talk but his throat was to dry, his lips were dry and chopped.

"W-where... I am?" - His voice was tiny and lost.
Not even himself listened to his all voice but the man did like he always did.

"You're where you should be." - This vague answer didn't bother him first but soon enough, it would.

"I can't remember much." - He whispered almost hurt, only to be comforted by a gentle hand that caressed his curls.

"It's okay, Peter. You eventually will get there."

"W-who are you?" - He managed to say and he saw a little bit of sadness in the man's face probably because of the question.
He seems almost disappointed.

"Tony Stark." - This name.
He listened to this name so many times, even as a small toddler.
Always in TV, in the magazines, and especially in books, novels to be exact.

Iron Man by Anthony E. Stark

For some weird and surprising event of destiny, he remembered everything about this fiction character.
A nurse, introduce him into the series.
It was on a recess and he was pretty much tired, he was having a awful flu that day even going into the nurse. (Only to receive some ice and the advice "Oh try to rest a little", the only thing that he couldn't do.)
He was feeling shitty in a general way, he couldn't listen to any noise without feeling like his head would explode.
When the nurse noticed that he wasn't lying and that he wasn't kidding saying that the shit was pretty bad. (He didn't use this words but it sure felt like it.)
She gave him some aspirin and in minutes, he was generally relieved and actually felt like he was able to breath.
After the pain was finally over, he actually looked around his surroundings, founding a book different from the others.
There were plenty of magazines and medical even scholars pamphlets in the little table in the side of the bed that he was resting but there was a book that didn't match the others and that one stole his attention.

"What is that?" - He recall asking her slowly and softly like he was dealing to a savage animal.

"Oh? This? Is a book that I bought but I didn't liked so much. Not my type." - She said without taking her eyes off her phone.

"Can I try it?" - Peter asks.

"If you like it..." - And then it started.
Peter was fascinated with the story, but especially with the main character: A lonely, problematic man who suddenly turns out to be a hero all the time... Well... More from a Antihero but still, it was amazing.

"I'm your biggest fan..." - Peter himself was amused how clear his voice came out.
That is all that the teen could process to say in all the mess that was happening inside him.
And in fact he was, he remembered buying books about him, the infinity of the lines that he had to wait for a book signed for this guy wasn't a joke.

With a sharp grin and with a little arrogant look in his eyes that Peter didn't notice, Mr. Stark said:

"I bet you are."

-

The pain, didn't go away after that moment but at least the teen felt like he wasn't all alone anymore.
Mr. Stark saved his life, he found him in a car crash and saved him.
He was taking good care of him so there was nothing to worry about at least for now.

"Open wide." - Mr. Stark said.
Peter couldn't help but to feel grateful, he almost died (And this part he was sure that was true, his shattered body was screaming into his ear that he was really close to this point.)
And this total stranger was helping him with such dedication that was almost unreal.

Peter felt the soup in his mouth, warm and delicious, his delighted hum escapes him and this made Mr. Stark laugh.

"Good, uh?" - It was really good indeed, but the fact that he hadn't eat something directly for days made it almost heavenly. - "It was my mom's recipe better saying it was her mother's. The woman knew what she was doing. Not a great cooker myself but with her tricks even I can try a bite."

"Yes..." - He answered with a hint of a smile but it was almost unnoticed.

Mr. Stark gaze was lost in the frail teen's figure for a good minute, just watching him obediently chugging all soup that his mouth could handle, almost as he was admiring something.
The estrangement in Peter's face made quickly apologize:

"Sorry, kid... I was just thinking about someone."

-

The feeling of sudden awareness began to rise little by little.
In the firsts days, thanks to his semi-conscious state almost every single excuse sounded right enough in his ear.
But then, a simple doubt came into his mind, why he didn't called 911? Why Mr. Stark bring a random person into his house? Why he wasn't in a hospital? And why a reputed author was acting as caretaker for a random accident victim?

These question hunted him but he was just to afraid to ask, because the matter was that:
He needed Mr. Stark without him, without the painkillers that he gave to him he would die, he would wither away until it would be too much and his body would just gave up.

And a part of him was screaming to him to not ask him anything because if he did so, things could get worse and that was a thing that he did not want. He really didn't know why this feeling was there but it just was.

So he stayed quiet, at least, by now.

Even though Peter had some reasons to suspect the man or even think that Mr. Stark's gear wasn't stowed right, he never said anything maybe out of fear but mostly because he didn't want to be ungrateful for a person who helped him so much.

Never think how weird it was that he dragged him from a car wreck instead of calling the police or a ambulance, he installed him in his guest room, put a IV drips in his arms and gave him a bunch of painkillers which he was really grateful, when more he could avoid the pain more profusely unaware he would become, for his own good.

But the only thing that he could and would be loud about it was the fact that nobody came looking for him. Nobody.

"Mr. Stark." - Peter asked with his not so usual timid voice. - "Do you think that someone is looking for me?"

"Well," - The older started. - "To be honest with you, I found that truly weird too, I mean when I was looking in your ID, you were born in 2001, that means that you're still a teenager and still, none of your parents or any relatives didn't even bother to look for you... Not even the cops, the news...Nothing. Nothing about someone with your description." - Mr. Stark looked concerned almost worried about it. - "Such a small kid, with nobody to look after. It just..."

Breaks my heart - But the man decided to keep the last part to himself.

"Hey!" - He was dragged out of his thoughts by Peter's voice. - "I am not a kid!"

"Yeah, yes you are." - Tony put his hand in Peter's hair and ruffled it up with a playful smile only to receive a attempt of laughter in response, he noticed the glassy sadness in his kid eyes.

The feeling of being forgotten for everyone should hurt like hell.
But Peter was not forgotten, Tony always going to remember him.

"Hey, Pete. No worries, someone is looking after you here." - He said kissing the boy's head. Peter was caught by surprise by the gentle act of his idle. - "I bet someone must be regretting losing a boy perfect as you, soon someone will be looking for you, but until then, I'm here."

"I know, I just... Sorry." - Peter said.

"You don't need to apologize for something that isn't your fault." - Tony said, smiling.

"Sor-"

"Peter..." - Tony made a perfect semi dad voice.

"Alright, alright. I'll stop." - Peter chuckled playfully.
It wasn't that bad being with Mr. Stark after all.

-

"I keep having this dreams." - Peter mumbles almost unaware, this made Mr. Stark turn his eyes away from the cards.
Peter wasn't good but Mr. Stark kept trying to teach him how to play.

"What dreams?" - He asked as exploring possibilities for his next move.
He had almost a concerned expression, his shoulders were dense but he must be just too focused on the game or at least that was what Peter thought.

"They are not... How can I say?" - Peter stopped, trying to organize his messy memories. - "They don't make much sense, everything is just too confusing. There is a the brunette lady, a girl and boy... Sometimes, I dream about you too."

"And what normally happen in them?" - The man asked. Again.

"Well, pretty much random, sometimes I am just eating breakfast and in the other I'm in the school. Like I don't know, broken things trying to reconnect again."

"Don't think too much about it." - Mr. Stark said. - "Dreams are like that, mine are the same way."

"Really?" - Peter almost exclaims.

"Yeah, sure." - He cooed, almost as trying to convince the teenager that this was the true.

And he accomplished his goal, just some silly dreams, right?

-

"There was somebody with me?" - He asked.

"Uh?" - The man said, pretending not to understand.

"In the car crash, there was someone with me?" - Again.

The man stayed in quiet for a more time, thinking.

"No, just you." - Mr. Stark said dryly almost as he had forced the words out of his mouth.

The brunette lady.

"Mr. Stark there was something with me in the day that you found me? Maybe a photo with someone, some address..."

His gaze was lost for a moment but then suddenly, he seems to be almost dragged back to reality.

"Yes. Of course, your purse and other shananigans, I thought they weren't so important..."

"Can I see them?"

Mr. Stark thought, thought and thought just to say:

"Yes, sure. Anything for you."

Mr. Stark got up and left the room lefting a anxious Peter in the room, his memory was still a mess and he didn't remember much.
Some flashes, some faces but nothing serious.
He wanted more, he wanted to remember more, some faces... Anything.
Anything about his old life would help him.
He had butterflies in his stomach.

After some minutes that felt like a eternity for the poor teenager, Mr. Stark was back holding a backpack or better saying what was left of a backpack.

"Well, I'm sorry... There wasn't too much left, I tried my best to rescue something but... I guess I was just too late." - Exploring the itens one by one, Peter found some maybe useful things.
Like his ID.

Parker, Peter Benjamin

The photo in that was horrendous to be honest, his hair was slicked back and he was white as a corpse.
Then he noticed that he didn't saw his face after the accident, so probably he was even worse than that.

"So was thanks to that little thing that you knew my name?" - The teen asked.

"Uhum, exactly." - Mr. Stark answered with a somewhat cocky smile. - "But I have to admit that took me awhile to recognize you."

Peter got nervous.

"M-My face was really bad? Like unrecognizable, deformed bad?"

"No, It's because you look better personally. They made you dirty in this one, kid. If I were you, I would consider even suing the photographer." - He winked in the end of the phrase.

Peter giggles.

"Don't!" - And they both laugh.
There was nothing important after that, really.
Just some notebooks, pencil case and a book, one of Mr. Stark's book: "The perfect boy by Anthony E. Stark"
He doesn't remember reading this one yet.
And amazingly saying, he knows every single one of the man's books by heart (side effect from being a fanboy so dedicated like he was) and yet he couldn't remember a thing about this one in special.

"Can I read this?" - Peter said pointing at the book in the man's lap.

Mr. Stark smiled with warm.

"How about we read this together? Just two of us?

"Yes!" - Peter was happy after a long time, read a book and read it with his favorite author? It was dream came true thing.

They were both and that's it.

There as no reason to suspect him, right?
He was helping him, right?
And after all, he was his childhood hero.
There was nothing to worry about and it was just a matter of time for him to recover his memories completely, maybe even meet the brunette woman again and his supposed friends again.
If he could only remember their names.

-

"Do you got any letters today?" - This became kind of a hobby of them.
They would choose random letter of fans and read them out loud, it was more fun than it should, some are really wholesome and others were almost creepy, like the Polaroid lady one but in general, it was fun.

"Amazingly saying, nope. With that weather," - The pointed to the window, in outside it was snowing. - "All that it came in was a only solitary letter."

"Who send it? A secret admirer? A crazy fan or both?" - Peter said more excited than ever. How he said, it was a fun hobby to have.

"None of that, it was aunt of a fan of mine." - Tony said without really caring about it.

"And what it said?" - Peter asked curiously.

"He was such a fan of yours, please, Mr. Stark. Can you consider sharing about his case on the media? Anything, just a little mention would help us a lot.
He has been missing from two months now and he is everything that I had in my life, so please-"

"Oh!" - He mocked forcing a somewhat texan accent. - "If only little Timothy could write! He is such a fan of your work! My husband Jerry introduce him to your books and I was like "Jeraaaald, staaaahp!""

Peter laughs almost uncontrollably and Tony burst into laughter too, his stomach hurts with all that.

"Stop!" - The boy chuckles. - "God, Mr. Stark, poor woman, you are bad!"

"Yes, I Am." - Tony said being more truthful than Peter could ever imagine

-

???

"Are you sure, Pete?" - May normally wouldn't argue about Peter's wanting after all he had so few of them and never got himself into trouble at least not with the intention to do so. And now, especially in one of her rare free days, she would do everything that she could do to spoil her only family. But she expected some Netflix and chill instead of a line of excited teenagers.

"Yes!" - Peter tried to hide how excited he was but failed miserably. - "This is the kind of thing that you only got one chance in life, May. I can't let it pass! He always do the book signing and greet and meet in Comic-Cons on DC, that kinda stuff. But now he is here, in New York!"

"You like this guy, uh?" - She let a little smile escape.

"Very much." - He says shyly, Tony Stark was a legend. One of the bigs like Stan Lee or George Lucas, the man was fire.
The sad antihero who was Iron Man captivated Peter in a way that he thought that it couldn't be real.
Tony Stark had a good reason to be the best-seller in every book he writes, he knows how to make you trapped in a story.

"If you say so, I believe in you. But are you sure you want to spend the whole day waiting in a line?" - May asks.

"Absolutely!" - And she laughs.

"So we are going to do that."

-

May.

"May..." - He whispers, he was suddenly wake and soaked in sweat and he felt in extreme distress.
May, his aunt May. His only family, she was alone? Was she looking for him? His heart grew heavy just think that he forgot about her, his only family, the only person that cared about him.

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!" - He screamed. Wanting for his rescuer come to his care.

"What is going on here? Are you alright? Peter, are you okay?" - He seems preoccupied enough.

Peter even in his almost distressed state managed to smile, trying to calm the man down a little.

"I'm fine, I just..." - His eyes gained a light that was missing for a long time: hope. - "I think that I remembered something."

Instead of a celebration or at least a attempt of a smile Peter received a empty look.
A harsh one, one that he never saw before.

"Maybe it was just a dream, you have plenty of them, don't you? Maybe its just your mind playing games with you again, I hate to break it to you but it could well be nothing in special. You think that is important when it isn't. Well, the human mind is a roller coaster of nonsense. Don't get too hopeful, it could be nothing. Go back to sleep." - He said in the more calm way possible it didn't even look that he was destroying all of the small teenager hopes.

"But... May!"

"Who is May?" - Mr. Stark asked with a frown breaking his normally peaceful posture.

"My aunt, the... brunette lady that I talked about."

"Peter, what month we are?"

Peter stopped and realized.

"We are on may." - Peter admitted slowly and hurted.
It was only a his brain playing games on him?

"Exactly, your mind is playing games with you. Your brain is trying to replace memories putting fake ones in the place. It happens, after a violent concussion on the head a person can pass though that, illusory memories. It can feel almost as real as a true one. This woman can even not be your aunt, maybe a random stranger that your brain choosed to replace the lacune. All that it took was a figure of a mysterious woman and a name of the month and TAMDAM! Fake memory. It happens."

After this explanation, Peter felt like a boat without a sail.
Soon, Mr. Stark noticed the chance in his demeanor.

"Pete? Are you okay?" - The man asked with a hint of sympathy in his tone.

After just seconds, Peter fell down in tears.
He was lost, devastated, the little hope that he build was gone.
The tears became unbearable and he just letted them go down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, please." - He felt a familiar hand in shoulder, playing with his hair, trying to calm him down and failing hard. - "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tell you this, I just thought..." - He sighed with such a genuine sorrow in his face, even with all the tears, Peter identified the feeling: Regret.
And he felt bad, it wasn't Mr. Stark fault, he was only being honest.
He just wanted the best for him.

"I only thought that It would be better for you if you don't get excited and in the end be all for nothing..." - Their eyes meet- "I don't you to get hurt with all these pointless expectations."

A gentle thumb tried to wipe away his tears but they didn't stop flowing.
So he just decided to run his hand through the boy's hair, trying to make him find some peace in this action and as expected by the man, Peter turn his head into the man's arm, looking for comfort.

"I know, I'- I j-just... I just thought that this t-time I was close to r-remember something." - His voice broke multiples times with his short sobs.

"You don't have to force yourself to remember." - Mr. Stark laid a soft kiss in his forehead. - "Everything is going to be okay."

"I w-want to... just h-have s-someone who cares about me." - He finally admitted.
He needed someone.
Anyone
He thought it was odd that nobody was looking for him, nobody care enough?
What Peter was? The lost boy? The missing boy?
He was nothing and that hurts the most.

"You have me." - The stern eyes stared though his soul a little shiver came down his spine, this phrase wasn't too loving and the way that he said that either but it was honest, truthful.
Almost was he knew everything that was passing in Peter's mind. He opens his arms and said. - "Now you come here."

Peter almost forgot how good it felt to be hugged by someone, all that he could do was burry his head into the man shoulder until his sob slowly calm down until it stopped completely, the only clue that they existed was shaky breath that Peter couldn't stop, all he could was just try to focuses on the feeling of the strong hand making circular movements in his back, trying to comfort him.

"You never going to be alone, ever again. Not with me here" - Mr. Stark promised.
In reality he meant to say "I never going to be alone again. Not if I keep you here."

And Peter believed him like he always did.
For better or for worse he would believe him, for the simple fact that he didn't had anybody else.

"You promise?" - Peter voice was small, weak, helpless.

"With all my heart." - The man assured.

-

After all that, after all his crying, after Mr. Stark got back to his own bedroom.
Peter started to think about everything.

The feeling of pain stopped being such a inconvenience and started being more of a acquaintance.
It was always there and there was nothing that Peter could so he started living with it like a annoying neighbor that you're forced to be nice to.
(Thanks to Mr. Stark and his miraculous pills)
But still, Peter still having the dreams.
The same that Mr. Stark says is all fruit of his imagination but something inside Peter tell him that is something more.

But what he was meant do?
Every single time that Peter says him something, the man always got the perfect argument to confute.

And all that Peter could do was try to remember his real life before all that.
Maybe someone was looking for him or maybe not.
Maybe it was all a matter of time.

-

Days after all that, It was late at night, and Mr. Stark kept his promise. He started reading "The Perfect Boy" today just for the two of them, and Peter had to admit he was a good narrator.
To Peter's surprise, Mr. Stark seems to be enjoying all of this, he thought that the man would eventually get bored but they are on the third chapter and still going.

"You finally here." - Morgan said. - "I thought that you were going to leave me all alone today, dad." Dad,It was such a short word but it always sounded so right come from his son mouth.
Morgan normally loved being on the ferry, he would talk and talk so excitedly about things like the worns sounds or even how beatiful the sunset looked by looking it so close to the sea.
His boy have this special talent, the skill of making such trivial things sounds so unique and special.
But right now, he wasn't laughing or chattering like he always did.
Now he was quiet and holding on to the ferry's white security bar as if his life depended on it.
"What are you doing, Morgan?" - The concerned father asked. Aaaaand end of the third chapter!"

"What?! No!" - Peter exclaimed without hiding his need of more. - "It was the best part, da- Mr. Stark!"

"Uh-uh, it is let me see..." - He looked at his phone. - "23:12PM, I told that we could read maybe until ten and here we are... I have to admit, I was taken by emotion too and passed my limit. So until midnight, I want to see you sleeping like a baby, capiche?"

Peter crossed his arms and made the cutest pout that he could until finally sighing.

"Okay, you got me. I'm tired, but..." - Peter smiled. - "Tomorrow same hour?"

"Tomorrow in the same hour." - Tony confirmed.

Tony gave a kiss in Peter's forehead as he always did almost as white flag of peace between the two.

"I love you." - Peter whispered and this made Tony stop, surprised and little bit shocked.
Because he had been waiting for it since ever.

"I love you too." - And I love you more than you can even imagine
He's been waiting for those words since the day Peter woke up for the first time.
He's been begging, dreaming, wanting that since the first time that he laid his eyes on the boy. - "Now, sleep tight."

-

Before all that.

Morgan.

That would be the name of their baby if he did survive but like the doctor said:

"It wasn't meant to be, sorry for your loss, Mr. Stark."

He lost everything.
He lost his wife and his first child because of a undiagnosed pre-eclampsia.
And everything that was left for him to do was just write, he left his job and just dedicated himself in writing, nothing more and nothing less.
Show some of his agonies away with a (not that much) heroic character to world.
And for some miracle, it worked, Iron Man was a hit. His first book was a bestseller which was impressive.
His writing gave him money, money as always gave him women, women who would never compare to his Pepper, the women who just wanted his money and his fame.
But he married again and divorced a week later.

None of relationship tend to work, not in job, not in anything.

All that he could was bury himself in his own solitude and think about the life that he could had if Pepper and Morgan were here.
Maybe they could the trip to Bahamas that Pepper always wanted, maybe they could be living a perfect life maybe not.
But all those maybe's made him awake in night but in one of the nights that he managed to sleep away, he had a surprise, he saw his son or a least the son that he always wanted.

"Daddy?" - The small child asked, he couldn't have more than eight.

"Morgan?" - Tony replied.

"Where the stars go when the sun is on?" - Morgan asked.

"They still there, we just can't see it." - Tony answered.

"Daddy?" - Morgan says, again.

"Yes, Morgan?" - Tony replies.

"Why the we can't eat the corn from the field close to here?" - He asked looking contemplative.

"Because it's inedible for us, just horses can eat that." - Tony answered softly this time.

"Not dogs?" - The child asked.

"No." - Tony says.

"Not butterflies?" - This time was he was a smiling, a big gap-toothed smile.

"No." - Tony said.

"Not even dinosaurs?" - The boy wasn't so serious this time. Falling into laughter.

"Neither." - And he heard himself laugh after a long time.
Even if it was a dream, he could live off of these "memories" with Morgan for days.

And he kept having these dreams, in naps that he would take randomly across the day, in alcohol blackouts, in his deep sleep...
Morgan would always be there, waiting for him.

Morgan was always there keep him dreaming about a better world.
He was perfect, too perfect for this world and perhaps that could be the motive that he didn't want to live on it.
He was smart, he was kind, he had his own sense of humor, he would have his mom smile and freckles, freckles that looked like little stars in their own constellation, big bambi brown sugar eyes and a crown of chocolate curls.
He would be his perfect boy.

A boy who didn't got to see the world but the world was going to see him.
He would write poems and stories based on his dreams, they days in the cottage, fishing, swimming, dancing...
He and Morgan had so much history together.
All that he wanted was to make them true but alas that was impossible.

Or it wasn't?

-

The sun was warm, bright and it felt too distant over him.
When he open up his eyes, he felt dizzy for a moment because of all the light but it was momentary, he got used to it.
It was a sight he got used to seeing, the sand of the beach was almost as white as snow and a sea so clear that you could see the fish that lived there clearly.
It was beautiful and it was theirs, their little piece of heaven. His and Morgan's.

And there was him, the same place that he always were at his side, he looked a little distant today.
His warm brown eyes were lost in the sea like it was a part of it.

"You finally here." - Morgan said. - "I thought that you were going to leave me all alone today, dad."

Dad
It was such a short word but it always sounded so right come from his son mouth.
Morgan normally loved being on the ferry, he would talk and talk so excitedly about things like the worns sounds or even how beatiful the sunset looked by looking it so close to the sea.
His boy have this special talent, the skill of making such trivial things sounds so unique and special.
But right now, he wasn't laughing or chattering like he always did.
Now he was quiet and holding on to the ferry's white security bar as if his life depended on it.

"I would never leave you alone here, don't you ever say that." - Tony quickly answers and sighs. - "I'm sorry from my lateness today, kid. I was too busy."

The teen eyes were like the ocean right now, they looked so far away and yet so close.
They were lost, charming and infinite like the sea that Morgan stared so much.
And yet so insecure.
Tony would give anything to know what was going on inside that head, maybe one day he could try to open it up and say: "What you think so much about?"
And Morgan would answer: "I don't really know."
But Tony would keep trying anyway because he is too stubborn to give up on a thing.

"Dad..." - The teenager voice sounded shy almost like it didn't want to come out.

"Yes?" - Tony says.

"Do you love me?" - And they eyes meet.
His son's eyes were teary and nervous, agitated as a storm.
And the man felt lost in all that water for the first time.

"Hey, c'mon. Don't cry, Morgan." - And the older one let himself hold the boy against his chest, he really didn't care how the tears wetted his shirt.
The feeling of hugging his child never would grew old to him, his head nestled against his chest, the smell of his son's shampoo on, his soft curls on his hand, his pale skin lightly sunburned.
It was impossible to this just grow old to him, it was just too perfect to be real, and it was.

"I love you, so very, very much. I can't put into words the love that I feel for you."

"But it is as much as you did by the other Morgan?" - Morgan's voice as low, almost a gentle whisper into his ears.
It was obvious how his voice was trembling in anxiety, waiting for a answer.

"There is only a Morgan." - Tony didn't mean it but his tone was hard. - "And this one is you."

"I love you, dad." - His son's soft voice would say between some lost sobs. - "You saved me."

"I-"

-

"Tony? TONY!"

And in this instant, Morgan was gone.
When Tony wake up his perfect world comes down and reality takes place.
Morgan was too perfect to be real.
His boy was an illusion, a fruit of his cruel creative mind that always punished him with something so good he would never have it.
He almost had it once but it wasn't meant to be.
Morgan, he was his.
A lost and unique idea, so beautiful, gentle, kind.
A beautiful soul who needed him to survive in the world imagined in the head of man. His son was an unreal consolation from a cruel world.

Until he wakes up.
Great.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Do you know what time it's?" - Obie opened the curtains and let the torturing sunshine came inside the room, this only made the man who was already recovering from a bad hangover, cover himself even more with the sheets.

"Ummm..." - Tony groans annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry but seems like your stupid assistant don't work as your nanny in her free time." - Obie was upset at him and honesty who wouldn't? He is a sorry piece of shit. - "Do you know what day it is or the alcohol already destroyed what was left of your brain?"

"It's monday?"

"No, it's friday. Your new book signing. Now get your ass to work."

Iron Man franchise was his best-seller, he created the character after he lost his first wife, Pepper.
Summer hair and spring eyes.
She was lovely, nobody would never be good as her.

But he did enjoy writing the guy, Iron Man was a sad and perturbed soul, a alcoholic in day and a hero on the night.
When he writing him, he needs to get inspiration from his own agony, he likes things to be real when he is writing about them, always giving a personal touch.
But sometimes it hurts.

The only way that it didn't hurt as bad made him continue writing the Iron guy was his new assistant, Morgan.
In his new book, The perfect boy, he was a android who looked almost human who was disposed to help Iron Man get out of his misery.
When Morgan was on the scene, the violence didn't existed and everything was good.
And people liked it apparently, they want a continuation with his perfect boy in it. (like they always do)
Tony was sneaky about it, putting his kid where he didn't belong but he did that because he wanted people to have just a glance of his Morgan.
Just to give a them have a opportunity of knowing him for some pages.
The opportunity of knowing such a sweet soul.

"Awesome." - The man growled.

-

"Are you sure, Pete?" - May normally wouldn't argue about Peter's wanting after all he had so few of them and never got himself into trouble at least not with the intention to do so. And now, especially in one of her rare free days, she would do everything that she could do to spoil her only family. But she expected some Netflix and chill instead of a line of excited teenagers.

"Yes!" - Peter tried to hide how excited he was but failed miserably. - "This is the kind of thing that you only got one chance in life, May. I can't let it pass! He always do the book signing and greet and meet in Comic-Cons on DC, that kinda stuff. But now he is here, in New York!"

"You like this guy, uh?" - She let a little smile escape.

"Very much." - He says shyly, Tony Stark was a legend. One of the bigs like Stan Lee or George Lucas, the man was fire.
The sad antihero who was Iron Man captivated Peter in a way that he thought that it couldn't be real.
Tony Stark had a good reason to be the best-seller in every book he writes, he knows how to make you trapped in a story.

"If you say so, I believe in you. But are you sure you want to spend the whole day waiting in a line?" - May asks.

"Absolutely!" - And she laughs.

"So we are going to do that."

-

The event was full of teenagers, middle age men who were a little too old for reading heros novels and the "I liked your work but i think-" morons.
The smell of cheetos and sweat was in the air, he didn't even know what the fuck he was doing here.
Obie said "Oh, go for it" and he said "It's better you promote this book than staying in home all day looking like trash."

He was wrong.
He highly preferred to drink until he pass out that deal with that shit for one more second.

"O-Oh hello!" - A too nervous voice said, cracking... A teenager, as always.

Tony didn't bother looking up.

"I-Uh, I'm-"

"Let me guess, my biggest fan?" - He looked up and he saw something that he couldn't believe.
These brown eyes, the curls, the face, the timid and gentle smile.
If it wasn't by the small bags under his eyes and that bumpy clothes that he was wearing.
He was Morgan perfect match.
Tony was paralyzed, He was sleeping and he didn't even notice it?
Disbelief, shock and a overall sick feeling of happiness took over him.

"Yes." - Morgan. said. - "I'm think i am."

Tony couldn't say nothing, he probably looks like a clown.
Staring motionless at his son. His real son.

"Uh-? Sir?"

The man gulped.

"I'm sorry. You just remember me someone." - He puts himself together quickly and smiles. - "What is your name, biggest fan?"

Morgan, Morgan, Morgan...
Tony wishes and hopes in the back of his mind.

"Peter" - The teen says. - "My name is Peter."

"Peter..." - He hums. - "Peter what?"

"Parker."

Tony didn't made the signature rushed and too blurred for human compression like he did to the others instead he buried himself into the boy's copy of the book "The perfect boy" and writed softly every single word and a small surprise.

"Dear Mo I mean Peter.
It was honour to have here in this convention, you have a great taste, don't you? I gonna see you soon, you better know that.

With all my heart, T.S"

"I see you around, Parker." - Tony said with a cocky grin.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark!"

Lets the game began.

-

At first, he had doubts in his mind.
This was a kid who had a life outside all this after all but then he thought:

Who the fuck cares?

He wanted him, he needed him.
It was simple as that.
After watching the kids for some weeks, he knew that Morgan and Peter were the same person, their aural color was a light blue, so untouchable and unbreakable, they were everything that anybody would want.
And his dreams changed too, now his perfect boy name is Peter and he wanted him.
Because he was real, he was accessible.

And he was his kid.
So he would take him.

All that it took was a whole champagne bottle, it was a celebration after all.
A father and son reunion.
He remembers watching the kid passing by with his bike his car two times and in the third one: It was hit or miss.

He hated hurting the child, the hated the thought of doing that but he did it was a accident though, he didn't meant to do that but he did.
He was waiting from the boy come over again, while still driving around to make sure that everything was clean.
His original plan was corner the boy and make him go to his new home, he wanting it or not.
Maybe making a good excuse in process like "Hey number one fan, do you want a particular tour?", he was a good liar, it could be useful.

He remembered leaning over to get some cigarettes for himself off the dashboard and then a loud burning scream suddenly happened and then:

The crash

He stopped immediately, still shaking a bit and trying to process what happened.
At first he tried to fool himself thinking that it was a deer.

"Deers don't scream, you drunk asshole. - He thought to himself.

So he realized it was more likely a person.
Even being a morally dubious guy, he got out of the car, still a little shaky.
He wasn't the kind of guy that would let a person bleed to death.
Getting closer to the mess that he did, he see what he didn't want to see or what he never imagined seeing there: Peter.

The boy was on the ground, not badly hurt, at least not the bad that you would "OH FOR FUCK SAKE, JESUS!" It was more like "What had I done?" Bad.
He wasn't externally hurt at least not so visible.
The only bleeding wound was on his forehead, his boy whimpered lowly, he was hurt and lost.
And this made Tony's heart sink.

The first that you learn even as a kid its that:

"Don't move a accident victim, it can get things even worse. This is for the medical staff not us."

But Tony didn't care, he scooped Peter up in his arms and took the curly bangs out off the almost unconscious child's eyes.
His almost closed eyes meet his, they are so confused, he saw tears forming into his child's eyes.

"Shh, don't cry. I'm here, okay? I'm gonna help you." - He whispered into Peter's ear. - "Don't be afraid, i'm going to take you home."

So he did.