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The screen crackled to life in Peter’s hand and Tony’s voice came through the speakers.
“Hey kid,” he said and Peter immediately choked up. It had been exactly one year, two months, and fourteen days since Tony’s funeral. And it still hurt.
“I know you probably won’t find this for a while but I wanted to make something for you to have once I’m gone. Man cancer fucking sucks right?” Tony continued on screen.
Peter held the camera he’d found buried in moving boxes closer to his face so he could examine his father’s expression. It was pinched and worried but also brave - brave for Peter’s sake, he realized.
“You are a great kid Pete, and now you're a great father. God, this is so sappy, whatever, I get to be sappy.” Tony said, Peter smiled wistfully at the man’s tone.
Tony went on, “Stevie is gonna be ok but I worry about you Pete. Just remember you don’t always have to be strong. Take good care of yourself and Morgan.” The first message in a long list of them ended.
—------
Peter held Morgan’s little hand tightly. They were walking to her preschool, a daily morning ritual they had before Peter had to get to his own classes for his chemical engineering degree.
“And teacher said we’re gonna play animals today and…” Morgan rambled on as they walked.
Peter nodded along to her words thoughtfully. God, he loved his kid. She was four years old and already whip-smart and sassy just like her mom. Morgan shared MJ’s looks too with skin a shade darker then Peter’s and wild curly hair which she got from both him and MJ.
MJ and Peter had been a thing to say the least. He still loved her in some parts of his heart, especially for bringing Morgan into his life, but he’d be lying if he said that the way they’d left things hadn’t been truly complicated and hurtful.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts away, Peter refocused on Morgan as they approached the front door to her preschool.
“Bye, bye Morgs,” Peter said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her unruly hair.
Morgan giggled at his voice and said, “Bye, bye Papa.” She said, letting go of his hand and walking through the doors.
________
Peter was sitting at his desk in his Brooklyn apartment trying to get some work done with a baby playing next to him.
Peter was an anxious father to say the least. Everyday he counted Morgan’s tiny fingers and toes to make sure they were all still there and every night he peeked into her crib over and over to make sure she was still breathing.
He knew Steve was worried about him. His dad came over nearly every weekend to “babysit” but Peter had a feeling that he was really the person being babysat in that situation.
Peter stared down at his computer, chemical engineering was fucking hard. He loved it, but like most things in his young life, it was rough.
Morgan cooed from her spot on the play mat so Peter gave up working and went to pick her up.
He scooped the baby up and cradled her in his arms then walked over to sit in the rocking chair that Ned had joked “made Peter a grandma”.
Sitting down on the barn wood he gave it a little push to start it rocking. Peter looked down at Morgan, she was warm in his arms and so delicate at only 9 months old.
In the distant recesses of his memory Peter recalled a lullaby Tony used to sing to him long after he needed it to fall asleep.
“Fa la ninna bel bambin, Fa la nanna bambin bel, Fa la ninna, fa la nanna…” He began to sing.
Morgan cooed happily and soon her little eyes slipped closed.
Peter held her closer, “yeah, we’re alright Morgs,” he murmured.
————
“Hi kiddo,” Tony said through the on-camera recording.
Peter was collapsed on top of his bed in his apartment watching the old videos Tony had left him yet again.
When he had bad days he always ended up watching these recordings or calling up Steve to talk, sometimes both if it was a particularly rough day and he needed to feel closer to Tony.
He didn’t like going to visit his father’s grave because it was so crowded with things other people had left for him. People who didn’t even know him, just worshiped the Stark name instead of the Tony that came with it.
Peter shook his head, no, the real family of Tony had other ways to remember him.
“Today is a regular day and you're currently very busy with homework downstairs so I figured I’d sneak away to record this.” Tony was saying.
“I’m gonna tell you the story of how Stevie and I met.” At that, the on-screen Tony gave a little laugh.
“So, there I was, drunk off my ass, and I see this guy - gorgeous, gorgeous, guy. Well, you know what Steve looks like but back then, god, I won’t go into too much detail cause that would be awkward for both of us but…”
Peter sighed as the rest of the video played on. Today had been a hard day, he wasn’t sure what he was doing with MJ. Only last week she’d announced that she was pregnant and Peter loved kids he really did but they were only twenty-three and he didn’t know if he could do it. She said she wanted to keep the baby but he could already see a hint of strain in their relationship.
He ran a hand through his hair, his dad was here with him in one way or another, he thought. He would get through it.
_______
It was fucking MIT Peter should have been thrilled but it wasn’t the same without Tony here to see it.
Steve had done everything he could to help settle Peter into his new dorm room and show him around campus but MIT was in Tony’s very blood.
Now Peter was lounging in his dorm room waiting for his new roommate to arrive and staring at the Star Wars posters he’d plastered to the walls on his side of the room.
Chemical engineering wouldn’t be easy, everyone said but Peter was determined to make his own way here.
Ned and MJ had both gotten into the school as well, a fact Peter wasn’t surprised about because they were both crazy smart. Things between him and MJ had been interesting lately. He'd had a crush on her since high school but now, maybe he was hallucinating, she seemed to be kind of flirting with him?
A knock sounded at his door. Steve poked his head in, “wanna go grab some lunch?” He asked.
“Yeah sure,” Peter muttered, getting up from the bed.
Steve gave him a tight smile, “alright.”
Steve led the way through campus to a small restaurant he’d spotted earlier. As they walked Peter drifted closer to his dad.
Steve must have noticed because he said softly, “you can almost feel him here right?”
Peter nodded, suddenly overcome with emotion.
“Oh, Pete,” Steve whispered and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
———-
It was raining the day of Tony’s funeral and Peter thought grimly that his dad would have hated that. Tony would have wanted sun and maybe a dramatic rainbow to grace him on his way out but here they were.
Peter stood next to Steve and next to the hole in the ground which they were lowering the coffin into. Almost like the gaping hole in Peter’s heart that Tony had left behind.
The funeral was a small event. Peter, Steve, and some of Tony’s closest friends like Rhodey and Pepper were the only ones invited.
The coffin was finished being lowered into the ground and everyone stepped forward to say their final goodbyes.
Peter had known that this was coming but he never fully believed it until now. All he could feel was numb, numb and empty. He was sure the grief would hit him later and he’d fall apart but right now it was like watching a movie of someone else’s life.
Losing two parents before age twenty, what a fucking lousy hand to be given.
Peter stepped up to the open grave and everyone backed away to give him space.
He tried to think of words to say, something conclusive and final, but nothing came.
In the end he just dropped a Lego figurine into the hole and walked away.
————
When Tony got cancer he coped with humor as was his fashion.
Remarks like, “Stevie go make me some toast,”
Steve: “no.”
“But Stevie I’m dying!”
Weren’t uncommon.
At first, Tony tried to pretend everything was fine. He still pranced around the house and built random things for fun.
Then he started to feel the disease and he got more and more tired. He tried to combat it with excessive amounts of coffee but after a whispered conversation with Steve that stopped too. Tony stayed in bed or on the couch most days napping and tinkering, occasionally watching bad superhero movies for fun.
It made Peter upset to see his dad like that, not just upset but mad. Mad at the universe for hurting such a good guy, mad at his own shitty terrible luck.
Then one day Tony called Peter over to where he was laying on the couch.
“Yeah?” Peter asked when he reached his dad.
“Sit down,” Tony said, gesturing at the spot next to himself on the couch. Peter sat down carefully and Tony continued.
“I know you're upset Pete,” he said. Peter shook his head, he didn’t want Tony to know how upset he was, he didn’t need to make things worse.
“I’m not-” he started to say but Tony cut him off.
“No, it’s ok, you think I’m not fucking pissed at this?” Tony gave a little self-deprecating laugh that made Peter’s insides hurt.
“But,” He said more seriously, “you have to be able to go on after I’m gone. You’re gonna need to grieve but then you’ll have to carry on.”
Peter shook his head faster, “no, no, it’s ok, you”ll- we’ll figure something out.” he said quickly. Tony had only been sick for a few months; it could still be stopped, he thought desperately.
“Oh, Peter, no, we can’t fix it,” Tony said. He wasn’t looking at Peter but he turned his head up when he heard the soft whimper that came from Peter.
Peter sobbed and leaned down to grab his dad. “I- you-” he choked out.
“I know baby, I know,” Tony whispered, he pulled Peter closer to him and the boy buried his head in his dad’s chest. He clutched Tony’s shoulders and rested his cheek on his shirt and let out all his pain. They lay there together on the couch, tears mingling together into a river of grief for minutes or hours.