Chapter Text
The first thing Tony noticed after the snap was how quiet the house was. Not actually quiet, the house had never been quiet. Morgan made enough noise for three people, even when she was asleep. There was the hum of the refrigerator, the soft mechanical whir of the ventilation system, the occasional creak from somewhere in the walls. Pepper had started leaving the television on in the evenings because she said she hated how empty the silence felt. But Tony noticed it anyway. Peter's voice wasn't there. It was ridiculous. Tony knew that. Peter had never lived here. He had never eaten breakfast at this kitchen table, never left shoes in the hallway, never complained about the coffee being too bitter or the house being too cold. Peter Parker wasn't supposed to be here, nor was he supposed to be anywhere anymore. Tony stood in the kitchen at three in the morning with a mug of coffee he hadn't touched and stared at nothing. Pepper had gone to bed hours ago. Tony hadn't. He hadn't slept properly in days.
He kept telling himself it was because of the planet. Because of Thanos. Because there had to be something he was missing. He kept telling himself it was because he was responsible. That was easier. Responsibility was something he understood. Grief wasn't. He had spent his entire life turning things into problems that could be solved.
Build a better suit, close the wormhole, fix the reactor… Save the kid. Except there was no suit he could build now. No reactor that would fix what Thanos did. No machine to take away the hurt be bestowed on the whole world. No magic button that could just undo everything, bring everyone back. Peter was gone. Tony's fingers tightened around the mug.
"He's just some kid," he whispered.
The words sounded strange aloud. Some kid.. God, what was he saying? Some kid.. As if Peter meant nothing to him.. He was definitely a kid. A kid who had talked too much, a kid who had been confused and excited at the same time when Tony found him. A kid. That’s what he was. And Tony unknowingly led him to his death.. He shut his eyes.
And suddenly, he could hear him.
Mr. Stark?
His eyes snapped open. Nobody was there. Of course nobody was there. Tony stared across the kitchen.
"Okay," he muttered.
Sleep deprivation. That was all. He rubbed both hands over his face. The first time he'd met Peter Parker, the kid had just come home from school. He talked about some ridiculous car outside to his Aunt. Tony remembered thinking he looked ridiculously young.
He remembered the way Peter had frozen, the way his eyes had gone enormous.. Like he was going to burst with either shock, or joy.. Tony definitely noticed the big grin the kid had been trying to hold back. Still, he seemed like a good kid. Unfortunately for Tony, he'd never been good with kids. Hell, he was barely good with adults. But Peter had been different. Peter had been—...Tony stopped himself. No. He wasn't going to do this. He didn’t want to think about what Peter was, he should still be here. It felt wrong to talk about him in the past tense. Peter had been annoying, he talked way too much, even in the middle of fights..somehow. Peter had asked approximately four hundred questions every time Tony showed him something remotely interesting. Dealing with all his questions had been a pain in the ass.. But Peter was also ridiculously smart. Peter had also been brave, and painstakingly good… That was the problem.
Tony picked up the mug and finally took a drink. It was cold. He made a face.
"Great."
He poured it down the sink. Behind him, there was a small sound. A floorboard creak.. Tony turned. There was nothing. His heart was beating too fast.
"Friday?"
"Boss?"
Tony stared into the hallway.
"Nothing.." he sighed.
He passed Morgan's room, her door was cracked open. Tony stopped. For one awful second, he imagined another room. A messy bedroom, a boy sitting on a bed surrounded by textbooks and bits of machinery.
Peter.
Tony's throat tightened. He turned away. He needed to sleep. That was all. Sleep. Tomorrow he'd call May. Tomorrow he'd tell her. He owed her that much. He'd tell her exactly what happened, no matter how much it hurt. Peter didn’t deserve to just be an afterthought.. Maybe he should apologize..for not keeping Peter safe. Tell her that Peter had been— He'd tell her—...
Tony stopped walking. He didn't know what he would tell her…
He went to Queens two days later. He didn't tell Pepper. He had spent the entire morning trying to convince himself that this was the right thing to do.
Peter's aunt deserved to know. She deserved to hear it from him. Not from the news, or some lousy government official. Not even Happy. Tony had brought Peter into this, given him the suit, and encouraged him. Tony had dragged him into a fight with the Avengers, and somehow.. That started everything. And now Peter is dead. So Tony was going to stand on the doorstep of a grieving woman's apartment and tell her that. He could do that. He could. He had to. He parked outside the building. For several minutes, he didn't move.
People walked past, cars passed. Someone across the street was arguing on the phone. Seeing people live a somewhat normal life felt offensive.
Tony finally got out.. Went to the door, and knocked. Nothing. He knocked again.
"May?"
Silence. Tony frowned. He tried the doorbell. Nothing. He waited...a little confused. Then a car door opened behind him.
"Tony?"
He turned. Happy Hogan stood there. For a second, neither of them spoke. Happy's face changed, he looked at the door.
"May isn't here."
Tony's stomach dropped. Happy hesitated to answer the unsaid question.. But Tony already knew. But that didn’t mean he wanted to hear it..
"Happy.."
"She was—"
Happy swallowed.
"She was one of them."
Tony stared at him.
"She disappeared."
Tony looked at the closed apartment door, he pressed a hand against the wall. Happy put a hand on his shoulder.
"Tony—"
"Don't."
"Tony—"
"Don't."
Tony pulled away. He stared at the floor. For once, Tony had nothing sarcastic to say. Well, he did. Of course he did. He’s Tony Stark. He just didn’t have the heart anymore. Deep down, he knew that nothing could make this less terrible, no sarcastic comment, or self-depreciating quip to make himself feel better.
May had been gone too.