Chapter Text
The house was quiet—too quiet. Pepper Potts-Stark sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space where Tony used to lie. His pillow still smelled faintly of him, a mix of oil, metal, and the cologne he’d loved. She clutched it to her chest, but no matter how tightly she held on, it didn’t make the crushing weight in her chest any lighter. The bed felt colder, bigger, emptier than it ever had before.
Tony was gone.
She had watched him die—seen the light leave his eyes as he made the ultimate sacrifice to save the universe. He had given his life so that others, so that they—Morgan, Soren, and her—could live. She knew he had done the right thing. He had saved billions. But that didn’t stop the hollow ache inside her from growing deeper every day.
A tiny knock came at the door, a soft, hesitant rap that could only belong to one person. Pepper wiped her eyes quickly and sat up straighter.
"Come in, Morgan," she called, her voice trembling only slightly.
The door creaked open, revealing her five-year-old daughter. Morgan was holding her stuffed bunny by one ear, her big brown eyes—the same as Tony’s—peering up at Pepper, filled with confusion and sadness.
"Mama," Morgan said softly, padding across the room in her tiny pajamas. "When’s Daddy coming home?"
Pepper's heart shattered all over again. She had tried to explain—so many times. Morgan didn’t understand. How could she? At five years old, she couldn’t possibly grasp the concept of death, of finality. And how could Pepper explain something she barely understood herself?
Pepper took a deep breath and pulled Morgan up onto the bed next to her. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, feeling the warmth of her small body against hers, and kissed the top of her head.
“Daddy’s not coming home, sweetheart,” Pepper whispered, her voice breaking despite her efforts to hold it together. “He… he’s gone. Remember? He had to help save everyone.”
Morgan looked up at her with wide, confused eyes. “But he’s a superhero,” she said softly, as if that alone should be enough to bring him back. “Superheroes always come home.”
Pepper felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes again. She wished that were true. For a moment, she was tempted to lie, to say that maybe Tony was just on another mission, another adventure, and that one day he’d walk back through the door with that familiar grin on his face. But Morgan deserved the truth, even if it was painful.
“Sometimes… even superheroes can’t come home,” Pepper said quietly, stroking Morgan’s hair. “But Daddy loved you so, so much. And he saved everyone, because he wanted to make sure you, and Soren, and Mommy were safe.”
Morgan didn’t say anything for a moment. She snuggled closer to Pepper, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I miss him,” she whispered.
Pepper closed her eyes, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “I miss him too, baby. So much.”
At that moment, the door creaked open again, and this time it was three-year-old Soren who wandered in, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists. His hair stuck out in every direction, just like Tony’s used to after a long night of working in the lab.
“Mama…” Soren mumbled sleepily. “I want Daddy.”
Pepper felt like her heart couldn’t take it. How could she explain to a three-year-old that his father was never coming back? How could she make them understand that they would never hear his voice again, never feel his arms around them, never hear his laugh?
She beckoned Soren over, and he crawled into her lap, curling up against her chest. His tiny hands clung to her shirt, seeking comfort, seeking the warmth and love that only a father could give. But Tony wasn’t here.
The three of them sat in the dim room, the silence of Tony's absence filling every corner, every shadow. Pepper held her children close, feeling the weight of her loss more profoundly than ever. She was broken, shattered into pieces, but she couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now. Not when her children needed her so much.
“Mama,” Morgan said again, her voice muffled against Pepper’s shoulder. “Daddy loved me three thousand.”
Pepper let out a choked sob, unable to hold it in anymore. Those were Tony’s last words to Morgan, whispered to her in the quiet moments before the battle. The memory was both beautiful and excruciating.
“He loved you more than anything,” Pepper said, her voice trembling. “And he still loves you. He always will.”
Morgan nodded, her little hand reaching up to touch Pepper’s cheek, brushing away a tear. “I love him three thousand too.”
Soren shifted in Pepper’s arms, his sleepy voice barely audible. “I love Daddy,” he whispered before drifting off to sleep.
Pepper sat there, holding her children as the night stretched on. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, just listening to the sound of their breathing and the quiet hum of the world outside. The pain of Tony’s absence would never go away, but in these small moments—when she was with Morgan and Soren—she could feel his love surrounding them.
It would be a long time before the wound in her heart even began to heal. Maybe it never would. But Tony had left her something—two somethings—that would help her keep going. Morgan and Soren were part of him, part of the love they had shared. And in them, Tony would always live on.
As the stars blinked in the sky outside, Pepper whispered, “Goodnight, Tony. I love you.”
And though he was gone, in her heart, she heard his voice, warm and familiar.
“I love you, Pep. Always.”
She held her children tighter, feeling the weight of her broken heart, but also the strength of her love. She would get through this—for them. For Tony.