Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A person is made up of memories, receipts left behind by actions and decisions. And if those were all to disappear, every trace of a person, every friend they had ever made, every laugh they had ever shared, was the person ever real in the first place?

But Penny must be real, she must have existed before Dr. Strange did his spell, or else the baby she held in her arms couldn’t be real either. And she felt like the most real thing that Penny had ever laid eyes on. MJ might not remember her, but their relationship had been real, and they had loved each other with their whole hearts. Which is why she could never tell him.

She visited him regularly throughout her pregnancy, ordering her single authorized daily coffee and sitting to watch him work. Sometimes Ned would pop in too, they’d talk about MIT, and their plans to room together when they moved to Boston. Just another reason to make herself scarce. She couldn’t ruin MJ’s future, not again. But that didn't mean she left him alone entirely. She would make friendly conversation with him and became a regular at the cafe. She continued visiting after she'd had the baby, and MJ would coo at Lane and they would talk about books they had read or were reading currently. They became as close as you could be as a customer and waiter. If she was honest though, she felt guilty for bringing him even this far into her life again. All she did was hurt people. Everyone around her either died or had had their lives ruined. 

Her dad was dead, Tony Stark had died when he snapped his fingers to get her and half the people in the universe back, and her little sister and stepmom had forgotten her entirely. Aunt May was dead too, had died because of her, and the thought of it made her want to give up most days. She had no one. Ned and MJ would never remember her, and even if they did, she had already hurt them enough. Even Happy was out of the picture now. These days Penny often felt like she didn't have much to live for. Even spidergirl-ing was out of the picture now. But the baby kept her going, this was all she had of her family. Not only was this MJs baby too, but it was her dad's grandbaby, and Morgan's niece. She had to keep moving forward. For her. 

So Penny lived for Lane. Her little pink face and gummy smile made it easier to get up in the morning. She gave Penny a reason to keep working, to keep trying. Penny worked in a small New York tourist shop where her boss, Tim, allowed her to keep Lane strapped to her back all day as she worked. 80 hours a week gave her enough to keep her off the streets, which was her main objective, not much else mattered. Penny thanked god every day that mother nature had given her the ability to feed Lane for free, feeding herself could never be at the top of her priority list.

When Penny had first been forgotten, she lived on the streets for quite a while before she found a job that didn’t ask for ID of any kind, and was willing to pay cash. Eventually, she was able to get ahold of fake documentation, which allowed her to get a bank account and a place to live. Not that it was much, just one room with a bed, bathroom, and stove. But enough that she finally felt like she was almost prepared for her baby. At that point, she was seven months pregnant.

When Lane was born, Penny took two days off. No more. She couldn’t afford to lose any more work, and despite the pain and nausea, she told herself her body healed faster than the regular human anyway. She would be fine. She would work herself into the ground if it meant that Lane would be safe and healthy. It was all that mattered.

Some days she would think about what her dad would think of how she lived now. No friends or family, no high school diploma, and a baby at seventeen. He would probably be disappointed in her, she thought. Tony had only found out she existed when she was 14, and he had died when she was 16. They barely knew each other really. She never lived with him, they only saw each other two or three times a week. So why did she think about his opinion so much anyway? It didn’t matter.

-----

Penny stared into her mug, sat for the first time that day after a 12 hour shift. Lane slept beside her in her carrier, she enjoyed the weight off her back for the short amount of time she had allotted today to stock her ex-boyfriend and father of her child.

MJ wore a uniform for the job, a turquoise button-up, and black pants. He approached her with the pot,

"Refill?" She shook her head,

"Can't, still breastfeeding, remember?" He nodded, tilting his head to look at the baby,

"Wow, you two could be twins."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice and she sent him a playful glare at his comment.

"She's identical to her daddy, but based on this month's measurements I'd say she got my height the poor thing."

He smiled, his eyes still glued to the sleeping baby, then turned to her, glanced her up and down, the grin forming again,

"Poor thing indeed."

She sighed at him, but she was used to it. Her height had been the butt of many a joke, especially when the two were together. The guy was like 6'4, completely dwarfing her own, perfectly average thank you very much, height of 5'2. The memory of it made her smile though, despite herself.
She came here most days when she wasn't too exhausted, and Lane wasn't being fussy. It was the only time she allowed herself to slow down and remember the people who couldn't remember her.

MJ returned to his post, and she finished up her drink, gathering up her jacket and checking Lane's buckles and such before standing to leave.
She waved a little goodbye to MJ before turning towards the door. It opened before she could though, and Dr. Strange walked in, Ned trailing behind him.
Penny flinched a bit at the sight of them. She hadn’t seen Strange since the spell had been cast, and she almost expected him to recognize her. But just as everyone else had since that day, he glanced at her with no recognition, sending a small smile before continuing. Penny didn't know why it still hurt, she was used to it, but it still stung as she turned again to leave.

----

It was February now, and the cold bit at her cheeks as Penny walked home. Lane was bundled tight in her carrier, but Penny had on nothing more than a light sweater and her knit hat. She shook as she made her way home, the little skin she had left on her bones these days doing very little to keep her warm from the cold.
It was getting more and more difficult to carry Lane every day. Lane was getting bigger as Penny got weaker, but she wouldn't allow herself a break, not until Lane was 18 and self-sufficient. But as she stumbled home, Penny wondered if she'd make it that long. At this rate, she wasn't sure.

She shoved the door to her apartment open, closing it shut behind her with her foot. She set the carrier down carefully on her bed, the only flat surface she had above the ground, unbuckling Lane from the seat and carefully lifting her out to get her ready for bed. She set the carrier back down on the floor, grabbing a nursing blanket, pajamas, and a new diaper. Penny laid out the blanket smoothly, setting the slowly waking baby down and cleaning her, and changing her for bed. Halfway through she became fussy, screaming loudly to make it clear. Penny hushed her, finishing up quickly and getting herself ready for bed so she could feed Lane as soon as possible. Hopefully, that would settle her down so they could both sleep well enough tonight. The thought of dinner for herself never even occurred to her.

----

What woke her that night, surprisingly, wasn’t the wailing of the baby sleeping in the cot next to her bed, but a rough knock on the door. She jumped up quickly, rushing to the door before the knocking could wake the infant, opening the door without a thought. Standing outside was her landlord, Stanley. He was a burly man, though relatively short in stature, he still stood quite a bit taller than Penny as he leered at her in the doorway. She noticed the bottle in his hand first.

“Your rent was short,” he sneered at her. Her eyebrows scrunched,

“I paid you the same as last month, I’m sure of it.” She knew how much the rent cost, it was a daily anxiety inducer, and the main reason she worked so many hours every day. He grinned snidely at her,

“It’s gone up since last month.” that made her stop, she could barely afford the rent as it was.

The savings she had could maybe make up for this month, but she didn't have much, babies were expensive, and obviously, she’d only been saving for a few months. The look on her face must have made her thoughts evident to the man, although he didn’t seem to become angry. He eyed her up and down.

“We could, of course, come to another type of arrangement.” her blood ran cold, he couldn’t mean- surely not. But as she thought it, his hand reached quickly for her wrist with a bruising grip.

He pulled her roughly into the hallway by the arm, shoving her down as she struggled against him. She pushed, and fought against him as he pushed up her nightgown, but it was futile. She was too weak, the past year had taken its toll. She was crying, shaking, her voice muffled by the large hand which had slapped her roughly before covering her mouth to quiet her screams.

When it was over, he pulled out and off of her, pulling up his pants and making his way downstairs, presumably to his own apartment. Penny laid in her position on the ground for some time, her mind blank, before she was able to make herself stand again on shaking legs.

Making her way back inside her apartment, the door still wide open, she saw Lane still sleeping soundly in her crib. The lights were out, her bed was likely still warm. She had to get out. She dug through her diaper bag quickly, pulling out the baby wrap and tying herself in, she slipped on her sweater. Grabbing a heavy blanket, she swaddled Lane and settled her into the wrap across her stomach.

She was still weak and stumbling due to injuries she must have received when he- when it happened. She made it out of the building and started walking. She wasn’t sure where she was headed, but she needed to get as far away from that apartment as she possibly could.

When she finally looked up, she was in front of the cafe. MJs cafe. Penny didn't know why this is where she had come, it was the middle of the night. Despite the fact that it was open 24 hours, there was no way MJ would be working. But what else could she do? She walked in, for the second time that day. She didn't bother looking up to see who was working, instead making her way quickly to her regular booth. It was one of the small, two-person booths you only see in older restaurants. Tight, but cosy.

Penny knew she must look like a wreck, tears streaming down her face, and if she guessed correctly from the blood she tasted in her mouth, a split lip. It was likely her face was beginning to bruise too, from when he had smacked her. She could see the bruise that was forming on her wrist from where he had grabbed her, and others had begun forming in places where he had held her down and fought her off.

She glanced up only when she heard a waiter approaching. MJ was here, working still, for some reason. She watched his face change as he must have seen her appearance?

“Penny? Are you okay?” then his expression changed from worried, to slow anger as he asked, “who did this to you? Holy shit Penny,” before realizing his mistake, “oh my god, your face. Is the baby okay? Please tell me she wasn't hurt too.”

Penny shook her head.

“Lane is fine, she’s sleeping, she’s okay.”

It almost felt like she was telling herself though, she wrapped her arms around the infant, and herself in the process as tears began to stream once again. She couldn’t go home, she had nowhere to go, and no one to go to. And the love of her life was standing in front of her, worried to death over his poor beaten customer that he’d come to expect every other day.

He sat down beside her, the worried look still drawn across his face.

“Penny, look at me. I don’t need you to tell me what happened, but I need to know if you're hurt anywhere else. You might have to go to the hospital, you could have a concussion.”

She thought for a moment before answering, looking away and forcing her teary face to go steely.

"No. No, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital. I shouldn't have come here, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry, I have to go.”

She stood to leave, but he grabbed her hand. Lane gave a soft whine at the movement, waking quickly and beginning to wail. Penny didn’t know why, but for some reason, the combination of MJs hand on hers, and the sound of her baby crying, sent her completely over the edge.

Her breathing sped up quickly as she began to panic. The tears were still falling, her vision starting to blur dramatically, the lack of oxygen causing spots to form. The last thing she felt before passing out was MJs arms around her, catching her before she and Lane both fell to the ground.

Chapter Text

Penny was only out long enough for MJ to get her back to his place. He figured she wouldn’t want to wake up in the hospital, and he didn’t know where she lived. Admittedly, he definitely looked like a predator, carrying her home unconscious in his arms. But his apartment was less than a block away.

MJ had moved out from his parents place when he turned 18, he wanted to be closer to midtown than he was, and hoped to get a sense of what it would be like to live alone before moving out of state for college. They helped him pay the rent, and the money from his job paid for food and everything else he needed.

However, it was very obviously a single man's apartment. Meaning bringing a girl and a baby home with him was a tad difficult.

He laid Penny down on his bed, keeping Lane in his own arms as he thought of what he should do. Penny had brought Lane with her in the baby wrap, so there was no carrier to lay the infant down in. He thought about laying her on his sofa to sleep, but then imagined her rolling and suffocating in the cushions and immediately scratched that idea.

He eyed his laundry basket in the corner of the room. It was empty right now, he’d just done the laundry this morning before. That could work. Carefully manoeuvring the baby so he could carry her with one arm, he lifted the basket, bringing it to the centre of the room. He found a throw blanket and folded it to fit the bottom of the basket. A struggle with one arm, but he made it work. He laid her down slowly into it for the night, sighing in relief that she did not wake in the process.

MJ puffed out his cheeks, letting the air out slowly as he took in his situation. There would be no sleep for him tonight, that was for sure. He had to stay awake incase Penny woke up.

And then what?

What would he do when she did wake up? Was he just supposed to let her go home without knowing what she was going home to? Sure he and Penny weren’t close, she was just a customer really. But he had grown used to seeing her come in every week. Had enjoyed the updates she’d give on her pregnancy, and then eventually Lane once she arrived. And he had seen her grow thinner, more tired, sadder. He’d watched her health decline rapidly in the short time they’d known each other. And when she had come in tonight, her lip busted, a bruise forming on her cheek, and tears streaming down her cheeks, he’d almost had a heart attack.

He felt unreasonably angry at the thought of someone hurting Penny. Of course, he would feel angry that someone would hurt any person, but this felt personal. And he didn’t really know why, but he tried to push the emotions aside and think about the situation objectively.

This didn’t count as kidnapping did it? Technically he had taken Penny, and her child, to a secondary location without their permission. But it was for their own well being right? So this was totally ok. Yeah. This is fine.
Well, maybe fine wasn’t exactly the right word, but you get it all the same.

When Penny finally began to wake up, he still hadn’t made any decisions, or come to any type of conclusions. He was sat on a chair beside the bed, not quite asleep, but tripping over the edge every now and again. She groaned though, turning over as her body woke before her mind could catch up.

The noise startled MJ enough to bring him back to a mostly alert state to greet her back into consciousness.

Her eyes opened slowly, eyelids sticking together from the tears she’d shed earlier, making her blink lethargically up at him from her position. It took a moment for her eyes to focus completely, and for her to come to her senses again.

She sat up.

“Where’s Lane?” She tried to make her voice sound har, but it mostly came out panicked as she reached around herself for her baby who was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. She’s sleeping. She’s okay, don’t worry. Everything is okay.” He held his hands up in a way of surrender to him, and he watched as some of the tension in her small body went out.

She didn’t respond but instead made to get up out of the bed.

“Hey, woah, how about we stay down for a bit huh? I’ll go get Lane, you stay here ok?”

She seemed reluctant, but nodded her assent and he moved from the chair to grab the basket from the living room where he had left it. He lifted it cautiously, wary of the sleeping infant inside. He brought in the basket, eyeing the edge of the mattress before setting it down in the centre of the bed, beside Penny.

The woman, a girl really in her own right despite the worry lines that had begun to permanently form on her forehead, peered down into the basket at the baby.

“I won’t wake her now,” she said, “but only cause it’s bad luck. She’ll be needing to eat soon, and change of diaper.” she frowned though, “I left the diaper bag at the apartment didn’t I? Well, shit.” There was no way she could go back there to get what she needed, at least not alone. Actually, scratch that, she had to go back, didn’t she? She certainly couldn’t bring Lane back out onto the streets with her, that would absolutely not be happening.

So there wasn’t much of a choice, was there. But she could stay here for the night, she thought. Surely MJ wouldn’t kick them out. He must know something is wrong, and despite the fact that he may not remember her, she certainly remembers him. And the MJ she knew would do anything he could to help her and her baby for the time-being.

MJ frowned a bit in concentration, considering her analysis of the baby.

“I have a neighbour down the hall with a baby just a little older than Lane. I’m sure she’d be willing to let her borrow a couple until we can get her some.” Penny nodded at that. She’d take what she could get if it meant she could stay away from her apartment for a bit longer.

Penny felt tired despite having just woken up. Although she supposed she hadn’t fallen asleep, she had passed out. But the result was basically the same right? Her stomach ached from hunger. She couldn’t quite place when she’d last eaten. She’d had the coffee at the cafe the evening before, but the last time she remembered eating anything substantial was a few days ago now. She’d eaten the last oatmeal packet before work but hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping, or the money for it if she was being honest with herself. But she didn’t tend to mind so much these days. Had gotten used to the feeling of an empty stomach, to the point where it became her new normal, it was almost soothing. And although she never let her mind rest on the thought long enough to worry too much, she realised that she had begun avoiding food on purpose. Even if her excuses did seem justified in the moment.

But yesterday. Well yesterday never should have happened. She was spidergirl. Or at least she used to be. That meant she had super strength, which should have helped her fight off Stanley when he had grabbed her.

Penny didn’t know how it had gotten this bad. How she’d somehow become so malnourished and exhausted that she hadn’t even been able to get her arms from his grasp. It made her wonder how she might be faring if her powers weren’t helping keep her upright.

She glanced at MJ again.

“Any chance you have something to eat here?”

She knew MJ was a health nut. He wasn’t the kind of teenage boy that lived off of ramen noodles and ketchup. He always had vegetables in the fridge, and he did fancy things like make his own noodles.

It used to surprise her sometimes. She’d forget that not everyone at Midtown had gotten in on a scholarship. MJs family had money, clearly enough to help him pay for this place while still in school working part-time at a cafe. She had thought about it when she first found out she was pregnant. She’d taken the test just after finding out that the three friends had been rejected by MIT. Penny had spent the next few hours thinking a lot about her future, and how she had ruined MJ’s life. Had thought about terminating before realising that that just wasn’t something she could ever bring herself to do. She’d thought about how she would pay for a baby, and had hoped that his family might be able to help them out. Before realising of course that she was the daughter of a billionaire now, even if said billionaire happened to be dead. She was sure Pepper would allow her access to some of the money, or at least the inheritance she was supposed to receive when she turned 18. This was all a pipe dream now of course, but it was nice to imagine sometimes what her life could have been like.

MJ looked back at her, lips thinning at her a bit,

“Yeah, of course, you look like you need it. You still don’t look so good.” she scoffed at that,

“Thanks. Ya really know how to make a girl feel pretty don’t ya?” he cringed,

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. You just don’t look healthy, you’ve lost a lot of weight recently, and you didn’t have much to lose in the first place. I’m starting to get worried about you. Is everything okay at home? Has Lane been okay recently?”

He looked genuinely worried, but she shook it off.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been working a lot of hours lately, it must be getting to me. But if you’re so worried, why don’t you feed me while I’m here? What time is it? I probably have to head in to work soon.”

He frowned at the mention of her leaving. Almost making him regret not taking her to the hospital in the first place, at least they would have some type of authority to keep her off her feet a bit longer. She looked like a corpse, she was all skin and bones, dark heavy bags hung beneath her eyes, even her hair seemed to be thinning. By now the bruise was fully formed on her cheek. Dark purple, almost black painted her face in a way that caused MJ to wince when he looked at it. Her lip had scabbed over, but looked painful, and there were other bruises in spots all over her visible skin.

He didn’t want to let her leave, but agreed that food was a good plan. He made his way to the pantry, peering into the cupboards to view their choices. Before he could offer Penny up some suggestions, she spoke up.

“Any chance you have the stuff to make soup? I am in a big soup mood right now if you know what I mean.”

It made him stop short before laughing.

“Yeah. Yes, I do. I always have soup ingredients around, it’s my specialty. I find myself in a soup mood most days too Pen.”

She knew all this of course, it had been their comfort food. He would make it for them when they were studying for big tests, and he always made sure to have the ingredients around just in case. She was glad that the loss of his memory of her hadn’t also gotten rid of his immaculate taste in food.

He cooked quickly, the soup had become a practiced art in his household and he was able to do it even quicker with Penny at the table helping him chop veggies and such.

When the pot was left on the stove to heat fully, Penny went back over to the bed, she’d left Lane longer than she’d meant to without eating. She lifted her carefully, and the baby woke unhappily at the jostling, letting out a cry. Penny tried to hush her but knew it would be futile until she got something in her tummy.

She sat in the chair MJ had used beside the bed, Lane latched on immediately for her, making Penny smile in delight. She glanced at her watch, a cheap child's one she had picked up to watch the time at work, checking to see when she would have to leave for her shift. She had around an hour and a half left. Enough time to feed and change Lane and get herself a bowl of food. While Penny fed Lane, and the soup heated on the stove, MJ took the time to go ask his neighbour for a couple of diapers for the baby. Good timing, Penny could tell, from what she was starting to smell off the baby. She finished feeding her, and changed her quickly once MJ had returned. The diaper was a little big, but fit well enough for the time being. Now that Lane was settled and left blinking up at her, fully awake, but content, Penny took this time to hand her off to MJ while she was able to go to the washroom for a minute to clean herself up before work. She trusted MJ to hold Lane for a few minutes, although she often found it hard to do this. As a single parent, she wasn’t used to handing her baby off to other people, like ever. So the situation was a bit strange for her, but she didn’t mind it so much here with him.

She was lucky that there was no required uniform for her job but asked to borrow one of MJs shirts anyway, taking it into the washroom with her. Tiptoeing inside, she closed the door softly, locking it behind her before glancing up at the mirror. Her face didn’t look so pretty. It was worse than she had imagined, but looked about as bad as it had felt when the injuries had been inflicted.

In a strange way, she was almost glad that they looked so bad. As if the injuries on the outside matched what she felt on the inside somehow. It felt almost validating.

She shook the thoughts away though and went to work on herself. She didn't have any makeup with her, so there wasn't anything she could do about the bruises. But she found a brush and was able to detangle her hair and run a quick shower. It was nothing spectacular, but it helped her feel a little less grimy. She could still feel his greasy hands on her, and she wanted to scrub the feeling away. It didn’t help much, but she felt better when she exited the bathroom afterward.

When she got back to the kitchen, MJ was still there, Lane in his arms giggling up at him. The giggling was a new thing, she had only done it for the first time about a week ago. Every time Penny heard it though, it filled her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long long time.

“Hey,” he said as he noticed her enter the room, “the soup is ready, I set a bowl there beside the pot, you can get yourself some.”

She nodded, taking note of the bowl he already had sitting in front of him. She ladled the soup into her bowl and took it with her to the table to sit down with MJ. She took a spoonful and immediately sighed. She had missed this so much. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a hot meal like this, and the soup was exactly how she remembered it.

They made small talk while they ate, mostly based around Lane. MJ tried to question her again about last night but she was not letting anything go on that front. Eventually, the time came that she had to leave. She found her baby wrap again, expertly tying the fabric around herself and placing the baby inside. She felt heavier than usual, Penny was still a bit weak despite getting some sleep and food. But she managed, and made to leave before MJ stopped her.

“Listen, I know we don’t know each other that well, but, you can come back here when you’re done. If you don’t feel safe at home, or if you need any help at all, I’m here. I don’t want you going back to a situation where what happened last night is ever able to happen again.”

Penny felt a ball form in her throat, her eyes prickling. She nodded, not wanting to give anything about her current situation away to him. She didn’t want to involve MJ in her life again, didn’t want to hurt him like she had. But she had Lane to look after now. And she would do anything for her.

She slipped out the door then, her mind focused on a plan. MJ was right, she did need help. Perhaps it was time that she allowed herself to take it.

Chapter Text

The end of Penny’s shift came like a mercy and a curse. Her legs shook as she peeled off the apron, her back damp with sweat where Lane had slept strapped against her most of the day. The shop had been packed with tourists, each demanding attention, each little task carving deeper into her exhaustion. But work kept her distracted, and distracted meant she didn’t have to think about what waited outside.

She stood at the shop’s back door, coat half-zipped, Lane bundled close to her chest. Her mind ran in circles. Go back to MJ’s. No—don’t drag him into this. But the thought of stepping into her apartment again made bile rise in her throat. She hadn’t even grabbed Lane’s diaper bag last night. She still needed her few belongings: diapers, the last of her clothes, Lane’s thin blankets, her worn notebook. It was foolish, but the thought of losing them made her feel like she would lose the last sliver of control she had left.

So she told herself it would be just this once. One night. In and out, grab what she needed, and she’d figure it out later.

-

The apartment was silent when she turned her key, Lane asleep and heavy against her chest. Every shadow made her flinch, every creak in the floorboards sent adrenaline rushing through her veins.
She kept her movements sharp and careful, gathering Lane’s things, tossing them into the diaper bag.

She should have left then.

But the bed looked so damn inviting, the floor was tilting beneath her, and for once the building seemed still. She set Lane in her cot, lay down without taking off her shoes, and told herself she would
only close her eyes for a minute.

-

Dawn woke her, a weak orange light filtering through the curtain. She jerked upright with her chest heaving, her body already moving before her mind caught up. The night before came flooding back: Stanley’s grip, his weight, the way she hadn’t been able to stop him. She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, trying not to retch as the truth hit her all over again.

He hadn’t used protection.

Her stomach dropped through the floor.

For a moment she sat frozen, staring blankly at Lane, who slept peacefully, her little fists curled under her chin. The baby breathed evenly, lips twitching as if chasing some dream. Penny forced herself to move, to scoop her up, to swaddle her close again. The pharmacy. She had to get to the pharmacy. She couldn’t risk—she couldn’t even finish the thought.

-

The fluorescent lights of the drugstore stabbed at her eyes. She went straight to the counter, holding Lane tight as if the baby’s warmth could steady her. Her voice cracked when she asked for it.

The woman behind the counter didn’t blink. She just turned, retrieved a small white box, and set it down between them.

“That’ll be $49.99.”

The numbers blurred in front of her. Penny gripped the edge of the counter. Fifty dollars. She might as well have said five hundred.

Her rent was already short. She had barely scraped together enough for Lane’s formula backup, in case she ever couldn’t breastfeed. And her so-called “emergency fund” was a handful of crumpled bills hidden under the floorboard in her room—money meant for when everything else failed. Money that kept her from ending up under a bridge again.

Her breath stuttered. She couldn’t afford this.

-

The memories came unbidden, like her body pulling them up to punish her.

A year ago, after Aunt May’s death, after Strange’s spell, she’d been a ghost haunting New York. Pregnant and invisible. Nobody knew her name. Nobody cared. She had walked the streets until her shoes bled, begged for work until her throat gave out.

And when begging didn’t fill her stomach, she’d done what she had to.

She had stood on corners at night, pulling her hoodie tight, trading what little she had left for enough cash to survive. Two months of it. Long enough to scrape together money for fake papers, long enough to pretend she had pulled herself out of the gutter. She’d sworn she would never do it again.

But standing here in the pharmacy aisle, Lane’s weight pressing against her, Penny knew she didn’t have that choice anymore. Except this time it wasn’t only about her.

She looked down at Lane. The baby’s tiny pink face was turned against her sweater, soft sighs escaping her lips. Penny brushed her lips over Lane’s head, choking back the sob that rose in her throat.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk her safety now. She couldn’t leave Lane alone for hours the way she had once left herself.

Which left her with one option.

Her chest tightened at the thought of it, but the image of MJ’s face wouldn’t leave her mind. He was steady. Warm. His family had money, his great aunt was helping with MIT. He wasn’t clawing tooth and nail just to breathe. He wouldn’t even miss fifty dollars, would he?

And Penny—she could explain. If she could get the words out without breaking apart.

She could explain why she needed it. That it wasn’t about her. That it was about Lane, about making sure nothing more was taken from them.

Her feet moved before she was ready, carrying her out of the pharmacy and onto the icy street. She clutched the baby tight, her mind whirling with what she would say, how she would keep her voice from shaking, how she would ask for money without choking on shame.

The café was only a few blocks away. His apartment just beyond that.

She had to try.

The bell above the pharmacy door jingled as she stepped back into the cold. Penny pulled her coat tighter, her heart hammering. The pill box hadn’t come with her. But she had something heavier in her arms: the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, MJ would help.

She lowered her head against the wind, and started walking.

-

The stairwell smelled faintly of fried onions and cigarette smoke. Penny climbed slowly, clutching Lane tight against her chest, each step heavier than the last. Her heart thundered as if she were climbing toward an execution instead of a boy’s apartment door.

She stopped at the landing, staring at the familiar numbers nailed to the wood. She almost turned back.

This was insane.

What was she thinking, showing up at his home in the middle of the morning, begging for money like some lost cause? She should have just gone back to work, shoved the panic down, convinced herself she’d be fine. That’s what she always did.

But then Lane shifted in her wrap, letting out a tiny sigh. Penny’s hand automatically pressed to her back, rubbing in circles, soothing the baby even in sleep. And the thought came sharp and clear:
This isn’t just about me anymore.

So she lifted her hand and knocked.

At first, nothing. A quiet so complete it made her ears buzz. She almost prayed he wouldn’t be home—except she knew she’d lose her nerve if she had to come back.

Then footsteps. A pause. The scrape of a chain being drawn back. The door opened a sliver, then wider, and MJ stood there in sweatpants and a faded T-shirt, his hair sticking up on one side like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Penny?” His voice was rough with sleep, but his eyes sharpened as he took her in. “What’s wrong? Is Lane okay?”

Penny swallowed, trying to make her voice work. “She’s fine. She’s fine, it’s—” The words clumped together in her throat, tangled and ugly. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

He opened the door wider. “Come in. It’s freezing out there.”

She obeyed, stepping into the warmth of the apartment. He closed the door behind her, and suddenly it was too quiet again.

She shifted her weight, rocking Lane gently, as if she could hide behind the baby. “I… I need to ask you for something. And I hate that I have to. I wouldn’t if there was another way.”

MJ frowned, brows drawing together. “Anything. Just tell me.”

Her chest constricted. Anything. He didn’t even know what he was agreeing to.

“It’s money,” she forced out, the word sour on her tongue. “I need—fifty dollars. I know that’s a lot, and I swear I’ll pay you back, I’ll work extra shifts, I’ll—”

“Penny.” He cut her off gently. “Why are you apologizing? It's okay, when I told you you could come to me, I meant it.”

She flinched, not used to the sincerity in his tone. He offered her the money like it was nothing, like it wasn't everything to Penny. Rent money, groceries, the difference between a night inside or out on the street. “Ok,” she whispered.

He studied her, his expression shifting from confusion to something softer, sadder. “What’s it for?”

Her throat tightened. She hadn’t planned this far. She hadn’t planned to actually say it. Her eyes burned as she looked away, focusing on the threadbare carpet. “I can’t tell you. Not exactly. Just—something happened, and I need to make sure it doesn’t… it doesn’t ruin everything. Please.”

Silence stretched. The weight of it made her want to run. But then she heard him move, and when she risked a glance, he was already crossing to a desk shoved against the far wall. He pulled open a drawer, rummaged a second, and came back with a wallet.

“Here.” He held a few bills, crisp and folded.

Her hand shook as she reached for them. “I’ll pay you back. I promise. I’m not—this isn’t who I am—”

“Hey.” He cut her off again, softer this time. His hand brushed hers as he pressed the bills into her palm. “I didn’t give it to you to make you feel bad. You don’t owe me anything. Okay?”

Something in her chest cracked wide open. Tears burned her eyes, threatening to spill. She nodded quickly, clutching the money like it was oxygen.

“Thank you,” she managed, her voice breaking.

“Penny…” He hesitated, as if weighing whether to push. Then his gaze flicked to Lane, tucked safe against her. “Whatever’s going on—you don’t have to go through it alone. I mean it.”

She couldn’t answer. If she opened her mouth, everything would come pouring out: the truth about Strange’s spell, about their baby, about the night before. So she just tightened her arms around Lane and nodded once, sharp and small, before turning toward the door.

As she stepped back into the hallway, the morning light catching her bruised cheek, she thought: He has no idea. And I can never tell him. But at least—for now—Lane and I will be safe.

-

The door clicked shut, and MJ stood there for a long moment, staring at the peeling paint of the hallway wall. He could still hear her footsteps fading down the stairwell, soft and uneven, like she was carrying more weight than just the baby strapped against her chest.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. Penny.

She was supposed to be just a customer. A face that drifted in and out of the café, one of dozens he served every week. But she wasn’t just anybody. He knew that now.

Something about her lodged in his chest and refused to let go.

He’d noticed it from the beginning—how she always ordered exactly one coffee, how she sat in the same booth, how she leaned forward when she listened to him talk about classes or books. She was too present, too familiar, like a memory he couldn’t quite place. The baby only made it worse; sometimes, when he looked at little Lane’s face, it felt like déjà vu twisting inside him, a whisper of you’ve seen this before.

But that wasn’t possible.

He had never seen Penny before she’d started showing up at the café. He’d never met her, never known her family, never—

So why did it feel like he had?

MJ sank onto the arm of the sofa, wallet still in hand. He flipped it open and stared at the empty slot where fifty dollars had been. He didn’t care about the money. He cared about the look on her face
when she asked for it—like every word was a shard of glass she had to swallow to get through the request. He cared about the bruises she’d tried to pretend weren’t there, about the way her hands had shaken even while she held her baby steady.

And God, he cared about how much she clearly didn’t want to let him in.

MJ leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. The baby’s name stuck in his head. Lane. Cute, old-fashioned. He liked the sound of it. She deserved better than whatever hell Penny was barely surviving. And the way Penny looked at her—like Lane was the only reason she still breathed—he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Maybe it wasn’t his place. Maybe he was overstepping. But he couldn’t shake the gut-deep certainty that he’d seen her before, heard her laugh, known her in some way the spell of reality itself had tried to erase.

He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “What the hell is happening to me?”

Because if he didn’t know any better, he would swear Penny wasn’t just some stranger who wandered into his café.

She felt like someone he’d lost.

And if that was true, he wasn’t sure he could let her walk away again.

Chapter Text

The small white pill rested in the center of her palm, almost mocking in its simplicity. A coin flip of fate, and all it took was swallowing once with the lukewarm water the pharmacist had given her.
Penny tipped her head back, let it slide down her throat, and closed her eyes. Relief hit her so hard her knees almost buckled.

She clutched the counter for balance, Lane tucked against her chest in her wrap. The baby stirred, then quieted again. Penny pressed a shaky kiss to the crown of Lane’s head.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. Maybe for the first time since last night, she almost believed it.

By the time she reached work, her relief had dulled into exhaustion. The tourist shop was already bustling, waves of people drifting in to buy “I ♥ NY” mugs, cheap snow globes, and foam Statue of
Liberty crowns. The bell above the door never stopped ringing.

Her boss, Tim, gave her a distracted nod when she clocked in. “Morning, Penny. Big shipment came in—souvenirs are stacked in the back. Think you can start unloading?”

She nodded automatically. Lane slept against her spine, the straps of the wrap biting into her shoulders, but at least her baby was safe. Penny had learned to move with her body in ways that kept
Lane undisturbed, hips rocking slightly with every box she shifted, her rhythm tuned to both baby and job.

The boxes were heavier than they looked, especially after a twelve-hour shift yesterday and another restless night. Her arms trembled as she carried one load at a time to the shelves. Her breath grew ragged, sweat sliding down her back. She focused on the work—because focusing on anything else meant thinking about Stanley.

Every time the door creaked, her stomach dropped, half-convinced it would be him. She kept seeing his shadow in the aisles, hearing the sneer in his voice: rent’s gone up… we could come to another arrangement. Her skin crawled at the memory, and her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped a mug display.

She forced herself to keep moving. Lane needed this job. Rent. Food. Diapers. It didn’t matter if she wanted to curl up and disappear. She couldn’t.

But she couldn’t go back to that apartment either. Just the thought of the stairwell, of the smell of his cologne lingering near the door, made her chest seize up. She pictured herself standing in that hallway again, and bile rose in her throat.

No. Never again.

Still, that left her with nothing. No home. No plan.

By midday, her arms ached from lifting, her throat dry from repeating the same lines to tourists: “Would you like a bag? That’ll be $12.99. Have a nice day.” She tried to smile when customers cooed over Lane strapped to her back, calling her a “supermom.” If only they knew.

Her stomach growled when she rang up hotdog-shaped magnets, but she ignored it. She had learned to silence hunger, to make it background noise. Lane’s needs came first.

She counted down the hours of her shift like prayers. Noon. Two. Four.

Each hour, her mind circled the same impossible problem. She couldn’t ask MJ again. Not for money, not for a place to stay. He already looked at her with too much worry, too much intensity, and that was dangerous. Penny had learned the hard way: everyone she loved ended up dead.

Her dad. Gone, having brought her back from dust, only to die saving the world. Aunt May. Dead because Penny had pulled Spidergirl’s mask on and dragged danger into her home. Even Happy had drifted away, carrying grief she had given him.

If she let MJ too close, if she admitted the truth, he’d be next.

The thought made her chest ache. She wanted so badly to believe in the way he had looked at her last night, the way he had said you don’t have to go through this alone. But she couldn’t. Loving him, even letting him love her as just a customer, was reckless. Deadly.

So she worked, and she smiled when she had to, and she told herself she could handle it.

The sun had dipped low by the time she unstrapped Lane and rocked her in her arms during a lull in customers. Her arms trembled with fatigue, her chest tight with dread. She was out of options, and she knew it.

She could run. Find another hole-in-the-wall job that paid cash, another landlord who wouldn’t ask for ID. But she had done that before, and look where it had led her: alone, bruised, starving.

She pressed her cheek to Lane’s soft hair, tears stinging her eyes. “I’ll figure it out, baby,” she murmured. “I swear I will.”

And then the answer came, heavy and inevitable. The one thing she had avoided for over a year.

Pepper Potts.

Tony’s wife. Lane’s grandmother in all but name. The woman who had been kind to her once, who would probably answer an email if Penny dared to send one. Penny had Pepper’s personal email buried in her old contacts, memorized even though she’d deleted it from every phone, every device. She had promised herself she’d never use it.

But she had Lane now. She couldn’t cling to pride, not if it meant risking her daughter’s safety.

By the end of her shift, as she counted out her till with trembling hands, Penny knew what she had to do.

When the store emptied and Tim flicked the lights, she pulled Lane close, heart hammering. Tomorrow, she would find a computer. Tomorrow, she would send the email.

To Pepper.

The words formed in her head like a confession: I need help.

For the first time in years, she was willing to say it.

-

Penny tried to keep her email as professional as possible.

Dear Ms. Potts,

My name is Penelope “Penny” Parker. We have not met, and I understand this email may be unexpected. I’m writing to you because I believe Tony Stark was my biological father, and I need your help.

My mother’s name was Mary Parker. I was born in New York. I can provide documentation and am willing to take a DNA test to verify anything you need. I am not seeking publicity or to make any claims beyond ensuring safety and stability for my child and me.

I’m seventeen and currently living in New York City with my infant daughter, Lane. We’re in an unsafe and unstable housing situation, and I don’t have family I can safely turn to. I’m asking for discreet assistance: a short-term safe place to stay and guidance (legal/financial) so I can get on my feet and keep Lane cared for. I’m working and intend to be self-sufficient; I’m not asking for anything beyond immediate safety and a path forward. I’m willing to sign an NDA or any confidentiality agreement you require.

If you are willing to speak with me, could we please arrange a brief, private meeting (public place or via secure video call) at your convenience? I can share more details and any proof you request. For now, I’m keeping this message brief for safety reasons.

You can reach me at this email. If you prefer a call, I can provide a number and a time window that’s safe for me to answer.

Thank you for reading this, and for any consideration you can give. I know this is a difficult claim to receive from a stranger. I would not be making it unless I had no other safe option.

Respectfully,
Penny Parker
(New York, NY)

She was sat at the corner table of the tourist shop’s break room, Lane latched at her breast under a thin blanket. The glow of the old laptop Tim let staff borrow flickered across her tired face.

Her finger hovered over the trackpad for a full minute. She read the words again, each line heavy with fear and hope: Tony Stark was my biological father. Mary Parker was my mother. I need help.

She thought of erasing the whole thing. Pretending she’d never written it. Pretending she could keep surviving on eighty-hour weeks and luck.

But Lane shifted, tiny fist tightening against her chest, and that was all it took. Penny clicked Send.

Her heart thudded painfully, like she’d jumped off a cliff and there was no going back.

-

A response came faster than she imagined. Less than an hour later, her inbox pinged. Her hands trembled as she opened it.

From: Pepper Potts
Subject: Meeting today

Penny,

Thank you for your message. I admit I was surprised to receive it.

I would like to meet you today in person. If you are comfortable, please come to Le Jardin Café, 114 West 57th Street, at 8:00 p.m. I will have a private room reserved under my name.

For clarity and everyone’s peace of mind, I kindly ask that you allow a DNA test to be conducted at the meeting. It is important for me to confirm any biological connection to Tony. I hope you understand.

Please confirm if you are able to attend this evening.

Sincerely,
Pepper Potts

Her breath caught. The screen swam in front of her. She hadn’t expected—hadn’t dared to expect—an answer at all, let alone one this quick, this direct.

Lane stirred, milk-drunk and dozing, and Penny let out a shaky laugh. “She actually wrote back,” she whispered, brushing her lips against the baby’s hair.

Then the reality sank in. Eight o’clock. A restaurant. A DNA test.

Her chest tightened. Part of her wanted to slam the laptop shut, pretend she’d never seen it. But she couldn’t. Not when this was Lane’s chance at safety, maybe at family. Maybe at something better
than the one-room apartment with peeling paint and a door she no longer dared to lock.

She typed a short reply confirming she would be there, then closed the laptop carefully, as if the email itself might shatter if she moved too fast.

The rest of her shift dragged. Every ringing sale, every customer asking for change, every time Tim called her to the back felt like sand slipping through an hourglass. Her mind wasn’t in the shop anymore; it was already across town at that restaurant, playing out every possible version of the evening.

What if Pepper didn’t believe her? What if the DNA test proved she was wrong somehow? What if this was all a trick, a cruel joke, or a trap?

She swallowed those thoughts down and kept ringing up postcards. Lane dozed through most of it, strapped to her back, her little weight a constant reminder of why Penny had to see this through.

When closing time came, Penny’s hands shook as she counted out her till. Tim waved her off with his usual distracted cheer. “See you tomorrow, Penny.”

She nodded, slipping out into the cool evening air.

As soon as she saw one available, Penny slipped into a public washroom.

After locking herself in the private stall she laid Lane down on the built-in change table and began to root through the bag she had packed when she visited her apartment the night before. She didn’t own anything fancy. Just a few shirts, a pair of jeans without holes, and her work sneakers. She settled on her cleanest blouse, plain black, and pulled her hair back with the one elastic that hadn’t snapped yet.

In the mirror, the bruises still shadowed her cheek. The split lip was healing but obvious. No amount of brushing or smoothing could erase what Stanley had done. But maybe that was okay. Maybe
Pepper needed to see just how desperate she was.

She scooped Lane up again, wrapping her carefully against her chest. Her emergency fund—stuffed into the diaper bag—would cover subway fare there and back.

She kissed Lane’s forehead, whispered another shaky prayer, and locked the door behind her.

Tonight, she was walking into a meeting that could change everything.

Chapter Text

The bell above the restaurant door chimed as Penny stepped into Le Jardin Café, Lane bundled against her chest. The warmth and low hum of voices made her pause, out of place in her plain blouse and scuffed sneakers. She tightened her hold on her daughter, her heart hammering.

The hostess approached. “Are you Ms. Parker?”

Penny nodded.

“Right this way.”

She was led past the chatter and clink of cutlery into a back hallway. At the end, a door opened onto a small private room. Pepper Potts was already seated at the table, poised in her gray suit, her presence calm and composed. She rose immediately as Penny entered.

“Penny,” Pepper greeted softly, extending her hand.

Penny hesitated, then shifted Lane enough to take it. Pepper’s grip was warm, steady.

“She’s beautiful,” Pepper said, her gaze flicking to Lane. “Please—sit.”

Penny slid into the chair across from her, hands clammy.

Before anything else, Pepper said gently, “I need to ask your permission. I’ve arranged for a DNA test. It’s quick—Stark Industries tech. We’ll have results before we’re done talking. Is that all right?”

Penny swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

A technician entered, swabbed Penny’s cheek and then left with the sample. Penny tried to steady her breathing, but her stomach was already in knots.

Pepper leaned forward. “I’d like to hear your story, Penny. Who raised you? How did you end up here?”

Penny’s mouth felt dry, but she forced the words out. “My mom was Mary Parker. My dad was Richard Parker. They… they died in a plane crash when I was seven.” Her eyes fell to the table. “After that,
I went to live with Richard’s brother, Uncle Ben, and his wife, May. They were good people. They loved me. For a while, it felt like I still had a family.”

Her voice caught. “But when I was fourteen, Uncle Ben died. And when I was sixteen, Aunt May…” Her breath hitched, the grief still raw even after everything that had happened. “And then suddenly I was alone again.”

She tightened her hold on Lane. “They wanted to put me in the foster system. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face bouncing between strangers after losing everyone. So I ran. I lived on the streets for a while. I worked whatever jobs I could find—anything to get by.”

She shook her head, shame creeping in. “That’s how I ended up where I am now. Seventeen, no diploma, no family, barely surviving. And with a baby who deserves so much better.”

Pepper listened silently, her expression soft but intent, as if she was holding every word carefully.

When Penny’s voice faltered, the door opened. The technician returned, handed Pepper a tablet, and left again. Pepper read it, then set it down between them.

“It’s confirmed,” she said quietly. “You are Tony Stark’s daughter.”

The words hit Penny like a thunderclap, even though she’d already known, Tony had done a blood test when they’d met the year before, her chest ached, and she blinked fast, trying to clear her vision.

Pepper’s tone gentled. “That makes Lane his granddaughter. And it makes you family.”

Penny couldn’t speak, only held Lane tighter.

“I want to help you, Penny,” Pepper continued. “Not just with money. I want to know you, and for you to know me. I’d like you to meet Morgan, but only when you’re ready. For now, I think it would be best if you came to the Tower. We have a private room prepared. Stay for two weeks. If at the end you don’t feel comfortable, I’ll help you find a safe apartment and make sure you have the funds to support yourself. No strings attached.”

Penny’s throat tightened. She managed to whisper, “Okay. Two weeks.”

Pepper smiled softly, relief in her eyes. “Good. Then let’s take this one step at a time.”

Penny nodded, but inside her mind churned. Two weeks. Just two weeks. Lane will be safe, I’ll get us set up, and then we’ll go. I won’t bring Pepper and Morgan into danger. I won’t lose them the way
I lost everyone else.

She kissed the top of Lane’s head, her decision steeling inside her. Two weeks, and then we’re gone. For good this time.

-

The car Pepper called for was black and sleek, windows tinted so dark Penny felt like she was invisible inside. There was already a rear facing carseat installed in the back seat. Penny buckled Lane in and then sat down beside her and buckled her seatbelt. She tried not to stare at the driver, at the spotless leather seats, at the way the city lights blurred past. It all felt like a dream she wasn’t allowed to touch.

Then, suddenly, the dream sharpened into reality. Stark Tower rose above them, gleaming against the night sky, its glass and steel shimmering with light. Penny froze as the car pulled into the private entrance.

The driver opened her door, but Penny hesitated before stepping out. Her scuffed sneakers looked wrong against the polished marble of the entryway. Lane stirred, and Penny instinctively held her closer.

Pepper was waiting inside, having arrived in her own car only moments before, calm as ever, her smile gentle when she saw them. “Come on,” she said softly, as if she knew Penny might bolt at any second. “I’ll show you your room.”

The elevator ride was silent except for Lane’s faint sighs. Penny pressed into the corner, half-expecting alarms to go off announcing she didn’t belong. But when the doors slid open, it was just… home. Or someone’s version of it, anyway.

The apartment floor was wide and gleaming, all modern lines and warm light. The air smelled faintly of lavender and something citrusy-clean.

Pepper’s heels clicked quietly against the polished floor as she led Penny down the familiar hallway. Penny’s chest felt tight, her breath shallow. She tried not to stare too much, but her eyes caught on every corner, every familiar line of the Tower. She had been here before. She had walked these halls on weekends when Tony was still alive, when he was trying—awkwardly, stubbornly—to learn how to be someone’s father.

No one else remembered that now. To Pepper, she was a stranger. To Morgan, she had never existed. But Penny remembered. Every step closer to the room made the ache in her chest grow sharper.

Pepper stopped at a door near the end of the hall. “This will be your room,” she said with a gentle smile, opening it for her.

Penny froze in the doorway.

The room was almost exactly the same. The bed against the far wall, the wide window with its view over the city, the clean lines of the furniture. The linens had been changed, the walls repainted, but the bones of the space were the same. This was the room Tony had given her—the one where she had slept during those weekend visits. She used to sit on that very bed with textbooks spread out, while Tony poked his head in every ten minutes pretending he just “happened to be walking by.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Pepper said kindly. “Everything you should need is here, but please speak up if anything is missing.”

“You’ll find clothes in the dresser—basics in your size,” Pepper said. “Diapers, bottles, anything Lane might need, in the cabinet by the crib. If you need something else, just let me know.”

Penny blinked at her, stunned. “You—you already—”

Pepper gave her a small smile. “I know what it’s like to have a baby and not enough hands. I thought it might help.”

The kindness hit harder than any cruelty ever had. Penny had to look away, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat.

Pepper’s tone gentled further. “I’ll let you settle in. Tomorrow we can talk about next steps. Tonight, just rest. You’re safe here.”

Safe. The word felt foreign, like trying on a language she didn’t speak anymore.

Penny nodded mutely.

Pepper gave her one last small smile before retreating, the door closing softly behind her.

For a long moment Penny just stood there, Lane stirring faintly in her wrap, the silence pressing down heavy. Finally, she crossed to the bed and sat carefully, the mattress sinking beneath her weight.

Her eyes drifted to the far corner of the wall, just behind the headboard. The memory rose so clearly she could almost smell the lavender detergent Tony used to insist the Tower staff wash the sheets with. The secret compartment.

The first time she had discovered it, Tony had laughed, calling it “classic Stark architecture” to always have hidden panels. Penny had claimed it as hers immediately, hiding drawings, little trinkets, and things she didn’t want to carry back to May’s apartment in Queens.

She hadn’t thought about it since the last time she’d been here. But now, with her heart racing, she shifted Lane gently onto the bed, nestling her against the pillows, and pressed her palm to the panel.

It gave with a soft click.

Her breath caught.

Inside was a picture frame. She reached for it, hands trembling, and inspected the photograph inside.

Her vision blurred instantly.

It was her. Fifteen years old, hair a little longer, a little wilder. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Tony Stark, both of them laughing at something out of frame. He had one arm slung over her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug, and she was leaning into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They looked—God, they looked like father and daughter.

Penny pressed the heel of her hand to her mouth, a choked sound escaping. The photograph trembled in her fingers.

Pepper was in it too, slightly blurred in the background, her face caught in a moment of mock exasperation as if she’d been rolling her eyes at the two of them. Friendly, warm, like she’d been fond of
Penny even then.

In the corner, scrawled in her own messy handwriting, was a note: Taken by Rhodey, March 2018.

Penny’s heart twisted. That was four months after she and Tony had first met, after he’d reluctantly taken a paternity test and discovered she was his. It had been awkward, slow-going, but that photo—God, it showed the moment where they had finally started to feel like a family.

Penny ran her thumb across Tony’s smiling face. She remembered that day clearly now—the way he had made some ridiculous joke about her “tragically inheriting his nose,” the way Rhodey had teased them both until Pepper grabbed the camera from him. She had laughed so hard her ribs hurt.

It was one of the only times in her life she had felt completely, undeniably happy.

Her throat closed.

Pepper didn’t remember. None of them did. To Pepper, she had never been in this Tower, never leaned against this wall while Tony bragged about her grades, never curled up in this bed while Pepper set down tea on the nightstand.

Penny slid the photograph back into the envelope, her hands shaking. She tucked it against her chest, holding it tight like it could anchor her in the storm of memories and grief.

“See him?” she whispered to Lane, who blinked sleepily from the pillows. “That was your grandpa. He was… he was really something.”

Her voice broke, and she clutched the envelope harder.

For a long while she sat there, rocking gently, staring at the photo as though if she willed it hard enough, it might pull Tony back into existence. It didn’t. It never would.

Finally, she slid the envelope back into the compartment, pressing the panel shut until it clicked again. The photo belonged here, hidden where it had always been. Safe.

She leaned back against the headboard, scooping Lane into her arms again.

Pepper thought she was offering her a new home, a fresh start. But Penny knew the truth: she’d already had this once, and the world had ripped it away.

She kissed Lane’s forehead and shut her eyes, whispering fiercely, “I won’t let them lose you too.”

The city lights shimmered through the window, casting them both in soft glow. Penny drifted off in the bed that had once been hers, clutching the ghost of a family no one else remembered.