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Let’s Break the Ice (treading water/“take my coat”)
***
It’s really too early to be up on a weekend morning, but Peter has learned rather quickly that certain rules of thumb are tossed by the wayside when there’s a very energetic and demanding five-year-old around. Plus, he kind of signed up for this when he agreed to come spend a couple of days up at the Starks’ private cabin. So he can’t exactly complain.
They’d gotten another good snow last night, which means that Morgan’s first request after she sneaks into Peter’s room to wake him up is to go outside and play in the fresh white powder. “Please, Peter?” she begs, her bottom lip sticking out, puppy-dog eyes in full force.
Peter considers coming up with an excuse so that the little girl will let him get at least a few extra minutes of sleep, but he has a hard time saying no—especially to adorable children who proclaim him to be their “bestest friend.” Besides, he knows if he asks Morgan to wait, she’ll probably wind up going to wake her parents, and Peter doesn’t want to disturb Tony and Pepper.
He finally relents. “Okay, but you’ve gotta put on your coat and gloves and all that. I’ll meet you by the door after I get my own stuff on.”
“Okay!” she chirps happily, turning and skipping out of the guest room.
Peter knows he has approximately two minutes before she’s back at his door, raring to go. He sighs, throwing the thick comforter off of himself and climbing out of bed. The cold air makes him want to dive back under the warmth of his blankets, but he ignores it and quickly throws on some pants and a thick sweater. As much as he wants to be back in dreamland right now, he has to admit that it’ll be fun chasing the kid around through the snow—he’s sure Morgan already has a full itinerary planned for their morning, probably starting with a snowball fight.
He slips a wool beanie onto his head and collects the rest of his winter gear to pull on over all of his other layers. Tony had gifted him with a brand new coat when the weather started getting cooler. Once upon a time, Peter might have tried to deny the offering, saying that it’s not a big deal—not wanting to feel like a charity case or something. But he’s been getting better about accepting the billionaire’s over-the-top gifts, coming to realize that it’s one of the main ways the man shows affection. And he and Tony are close enough now that it shouldn’t be weird.
Which is a fact in and of itself that is still weird to Peter.
But Tony’s different now, Peter can tell. And it’s not just the prosthetic arm that rivals Bucky’s or the scars that still slightly marr the right side of the man’s body—two physical reminders of what he was willing to sacrifice, what he did sacrifice, to save the world from Thanos and his army. No, it’s more than that. In the five years that half of the world, including Peter, was gone, Tony…changed. There’s something sadder in his eyes now; the look of a man who has seen and experienced too much heartache. He still possesses the classic Tony Stark sarcasm that everyone has always known and maybe not loved, but he’s also much softer, especially with those he calls family.
One of those people being Peter Parker, evidently.
It’s been somewhat of an odd adjustment for him since coming back. Of course, things have been crazy for everyone since the second Snap that brought the Blipped back. There’s chaos throughout the planet as people scramble to figure out how to readjust after spending the past five years learning how to move on and live without fifty percent of the population.
But for Peter, going from annoying fake intern and superhero mentee to practically adopted son in the blink of an eye—for him, anyway—has been such a wild idea to come to terms with that he isn’t so sure that he’s not still dead. Because in what world does his childhood hero even know he exists, much less wants him to be a part of his life?
Tony still isn’t one for expressing his own emotions or sharing his feelings at the drop of a hat, but there have been late nights where exhaustion prodded some hidden truths out of him. He’s said that losing Peter made him realize how much he truly meant to him. How he had nightmares for months after the Snap—rewatching Peter disintegrate in his grasp.
Ash in the wind.
Peter sucks in a breath, still unable to dwell on that memory for too long. It’s gotten better, but the trauma of literally dying is not exactly easy to get over.
He banishes the spiraling thoughts from his mind, because he knows that there’s an over-eager five-year-old waiting on him down the hall.
By the time Peter makes his way out of his room and to the front door, Morgan is already there, bouncing impatiently on her toes. “Finally!” she says when she spots him. “I’m ready!”
Peter can’t help but laugh at the amount of energy she has. “Let’s make sure.” He gives her a once over, ensuring that she’s properly clothed and bundled up. The last thing he needs is Tony getting on him because he let the man’s daughter go out in below freezing weather without the appropriate attire.
Once he ties the shoelaces of her snow boots and wraps a scarf around her neck, Peter declares them snow-ready.
Morgan brushes some hair out her face and gazes up at Peter imploringly. “Can we get Daddy to come out with us? He loves playing snowball fight!”
Peter snorts. “I’m sure he does. But it’s still pretty early, and we don’t want to wake him up. He’ll probably come out later when he gets up.”
“Okay,” Morgan agrees easily. She leans in like she has a secret. “Daddy is always grouchy when he first wakes up anyway.”
Peter chokes on another laugh. “Yeah, I believe it. Come on, let’s go.”
***
“I wish it would be frozen enough to ice skate,” Morgan complains, squinting through the sunrise at the lake that sits a stone’s throw from the house.
Peter just grunts his agreement, focused on gathering up more snow.
The two have already made snow angels, built snow forts, and had a rambunctious snowball fight. They are currently in the process of building “the world’s biggest snowman”—Morgan’s words—which, based on their current progress, looks like it’ll only wind up being just below Peter’s height. But the kid seems pleased, so Peter is content to follow her lead.
He doesn’t think that she’s stopped talking since they came outside. If there’s one thing that Morgan Stark is, it’s a little fireball. She’s a total blend of both parents—she has all the organization and planning skills of her mother and all of the sarcasm of her father. It makes for an amusing time, listening to her ramble about anything and everything while they frolic in the snow.
By the time they make it to the head of the snowman, Morgan is sufficiently bored, especially since she can’t reach high enough to help with forming the last snowball. She quickly delegates the remainder of that particular task to Peter, running off to play with her giant red ball while she waits for him to finish.
“Hey, Morgan, you wanna go try to find some sticks and rocks that we can use for the snowman’s arms and buttons?” Peter calls a few minutes later. The sooner they finish this snowman, the sooner he can convince Morgan to go inside for a break—Peter knows that he could use some coffee or hot chocolate. The cold air is slowly seeping through even his thick layers, and he doesn’t want Morgan to get too chilled, either.
“Okay! I’m gonna find the best ones!” she declares, picking her ball up and skipping away in search of the finishing touches for their creation. “Because everything I do is the best.”
Peter shakes his head and laughs, wondering when he became this comfortable with hanging out with a mini, female version of Tony Stark. Or even just children in general—while he loves helping out and interacting with them as Spider-Man, he doesn’t have much experience with them outside of that. Spending so much time with Morgan has definitely been interesting, and he loves it. She’s wild, but she’s a sweet kid.
An unexpected chill suddenly runs down Peter’s spine—the feeling has absolutely nothing to do with the current temperature.
He’s been glancing up every so often to make sure that Morgan hasn’t wandered too far, but it happens so fast that he isn’t even sure how it did happen. Peter jerks his head up just in time to watch the girl step onto the iced-over lake, scrambling to retrieve her ball, which must have been dropped and is now rolling away.
“Morgan! ” he shouts, but she’s already well on her way toward the middle of the lake.
The sharp sound of splintering ice fills the air.
Peter moves faster than he ever has in his entire life—he’s not sure if super speed was one of the powers granted to him by the spider bite, but either way he’s across the yard so fast that he doesn’t even have time to blink. Mind on autopilot, he lunges across the ice, catching the girl around the waist and tossing her as far as he can without having to worry about her being injured from a rough landing.
He doesn’t have time to make sure that she’s safely distanced, because the already-compromised ice suddenly gives way underneath his weight, and Peter drops into the lake with a splash.
The shock of the icy water overtakes his body almost immediately, and Peter gasps as he dips fully under, coming up choking and spluttering. He immediately begins moving his limbs, treading water in an attempt to keep his head above the surface. The cold wraps around him like a vice, chilling him from the inside out. Peter knows he needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
Everything already feels numb, but Peter forces himself to reach toward the edge of the broken ice. He manages to grab hold of the jagged edge, his sticky hands helping him maintain his grasp. Unfortunately, the ice there is also weak, and it snaps under his strength as he tries to hoist himself up and out of the water.
Peter’s trying not to panic, because he knows that that’s the last thing you’re supposed to do in a situation like this, but he’s not thinking clearly and it’s so cold. He can only tread water for so long before the freezing temperature will slow his movements too much to keep himself afloat.
Come on, Peter, you can do this, he tells himself, even as he tries to steady his breathing. You have to make sure Morgan’s okay. He’d never forgive himself if the girl somehow ended up in the water.
Everything is spinning now, but Peter forces himself to swim toward the direction of the ice’s edge again, this time keeping his movements slow and gentle as he grips the ice and pulls himself up. This tactic works better, and he manages to get the upper half of his body out of the frozen lake. Then suddenly, there’s something clutching at the hood of his coat, tugging him fully away from the edge and to safety.
Peter lands in a heap on the bank, his breath coming in short little gasps as shivers wrack his body. He hears familiar voices—and maybe the sound of someone crying?—but they’re all sort of muffled together, dimmed by the ringing in his ears.
“Peter?” That’s Tony, but the tone is much too panicked to really belong to the man.
Peter forces his eyes open, squinting through the water in his eyes and blinding sunlight behind him. He can feel someone unzipping his coat, pulling his arms out of the waterlogged sleeves.
“Here, take my coat, Pete,” Tony says, pulling him into a sitting position and draping the warm material around his shoulders.
“Mor—Morgan,” Peter stutters between chattering teeth, the five-year-old’s well-being the single thought pulsing on repeat in his mind.
“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Tony says quickly, wrapping the piece of clothing tighter around Peter’s trembling form and helping him to his feet as quickly as possible. “Came running up to the house screaming bloody murder—all right, let’s get you inside and out of those wet clothes. Come on, come on.”
Peter lets Tony practically carry him back up to the cabin; his legs are too numb for him to know if they’re actually moving on command. He spots Pepper and Morgan waiting for them halfway.
“Peter,” Morgan sobs, rushing up the porch steps after them. “I’m so sorry, I’m so—”
Pepper gently shushes the girl, pulling her into her arms. “It’s all right, sweetie. Come on, we’re going to find some supplies to help Peter get warmed up.” The two females disappear in the direction of the kitchen.
“Okay, here we go.” Tony wastes no time in removing his borrowed coat and beginning to strip Peter of the rest of his soaking wet layers. Pepper returns briefly to hand off some towels and dry clothes to Tony.
Peter tries to help, but his half-frozen fingers aren’t working great and his movements are slow and uncoordinated as he attempts to dry himself off.
“You trying to be the next Capsicle?” Tony asks, concern evident even amidst the joking tone.
“S—seemed like a—a nice day f—for a sw—swim.” Peter allows the other man to pull a new sweater over his head, guiding his arms into the sleeves like one would for a toddler. He’s so cold that he can’t even be properly embarrassed about it.
Tony snorts. “Oh, yeah. Bright and sunny—perfect beach weather.” He proceeds to situate Peter on the couch and wrap him up in about ten layers of thick, fuzzy blankets. He’s rubbing Peter’s hair dry with one of the towels when Pepper reenters the room with a mug of something hot and steamy along with some heating pads.
“Wh—where’s Morgan?” Peter asks, freeing a hand from the mound of blankets to take the offered cup from Pepper. His hands are still shaky, but not nearly as bad as they were earlier. He takes a few sips, letting the warmth of the hot chocolate chase away the chill lodged in his chest before handing the mug back. Even though he saw the girl and knows she’s okay, there’s still a knot of anxiety churning in his gut.
“In the kitchen, calming down with her own hot chocolate,” Pepper answers. “She told me what happened.”
“Oh.” Peter’s heart thuds in his chest. It was his responsibility to look out for the girl, and he failed. What if he hadn’t had his spider-sense to alert him to the potential danger? What if he hadn’t gotten to her fast enough? “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Stark. She—I didn’t—”
“Peter.” Pepper places a gentle hand on his cheek, and the warm touch is heavenly on his icy skin. “You saved her.” She quickly shares the details of the event with Tony, though Peter doesn’t think he deserves the praise he gets for acting so quickly to get Morgan away from the breaking ice.
“I should have been watching her closer,” Peter says miserably, tugging his blankets closer around himself. He’s berating himself for not making sure she stayed next to him the whole time they were out there.
But Tony shakes his head. “I’ve told her a thousand times to stay away from the lake.” He sounds upset, but the tone isn’t directed toward Peter. “She knows better.”
“I think this scare will be enough to remind her of that,” Pepper interjects with a grim smile.
“Petey?”
Everyone turns to see Morgan standing in the doorway, shed of all her winter gear and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Dried tear tracks are evident on her red face, and she sniffles as she shuffles forward to the couch.
“Hey, Mo.” Peter gives her his biggest smile, doing his best to still his shivers for her sake.
“Are you…are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he reassures.
Her lower lip quivers. “I’m really, really sorry. I dropped my ball—and I know I’m not supposed to go on the ice” —she shoots a quick glance in Tony’s direction, shrinking a little under the unhappy look she gets from him— “but I just thought I could grab it real quick.” She sniffs again, rubbing a hand underneath her nose. “I’m sorry,” she says again, the apology sincere.
Peter waits until she looks him in the eye before he responds. “You do need to listen to your dad. He tells you not to go on the ice because it can be dangerous. But I know it was just an accident. It’s okay.”
“But you got hurt.”
“I’ll be okay. Nothing some cuddles can’t fix.”
The girl immediately perks up, crawling onto the couch and snuggling close to him. Peter chuckles, welcoming the additional body heat.
“We will be having another chat about this later, Maguna,” Tony warns his daughter, but there’s no heat to the threat. He joins the two kids on the couch, wrapping an arm around Peter.
Morgan just nods silently, resigned to whatever scolding or punishment she might receive—though like Pepper said, seeing the consequences of her actions is enough to reinforce the very important lesson. Peter still wishes he’d been paying more attention in the first place, but he knows none of the Starks will let him take the blame for what happened. What’s done is done, and he’s just thankful that they’re both okay. Well—he may or may not be an ice cube for the next day or so. And he will be content to stay inside, away from all the snow, for a long time to come.