Even though he was gone, Mr. Stark was everywhere.
Wherever Peter went he was faced with reminders of the man. The burger shop on the corner they used to frequent. The science pun t-shirts Peter wore that he used to make comments about. The Star Trek movie they'd watched together and Mr. Stark pretended to hate but they both knew he secretly liked. The blue rug in the apartment he'd mocked once.
The memories dogged him. He knew he should be appreciative that he had memories. That he'd remember his mentor, unlike the man's own daughter. But they hurt so much when coupled with the knowledge that they were finite. No new ones would be added.
A screwdriver sat on his desk. Every time he saw it he remembered how Mr. Stark had helped him use it to tweak something on his webshooters and then had sent it home with him so he'd have if he ever needed it. And the memory was good, but it stung when he realized he'd never get to spend another afternoon in the workshop with Mr. Stark. They'd never again work on his webshooters together. He was on his own now. Forever.
It'd been three months since Mr. Stark's funeral and he'd been trying to do what Mr. Rhodes had suggested, to get through one day at a time, but it was hard when the next day never seemed to get any better. It was always just as difficult as the day before. Sometimes even harder.
May was trying her best. So were Ned and MJ. And he couldn't believe how lucky they were, or how unlucky depending on how you looked at it, that they'd all ended up dusted so they'd still get to finish high school together. But even that was a cold comfort. And it didn't matter how hard they all tried to cheer him up, it didn't change the fact that Mr. Stark was gone.
The only thing that seemed to temporarily alleviate the hurt was spending time with Morgan. He'd ended up spending six weeks at the lake house with Pepper and Morgan while May searched for a new apartment, so he could sleep in a room with a bed instead of on the couch in May's living room. Not that he would've had a problem sleeping on the couch when he wasn't really sleeping much anyway, but May hadn't wanted that for him, and he hadn't felt up to arguing. While he'd stayed there, May had visited as often as she could so he'd never felt abandoned.
And during his six weeks at the lake house, he'd grown a lot closer to Pepper and Morgan. After he'd left and moved back to the city with May, he still spent most of his free weekends up at the lake house. It felt like home there now in a similar but different way than the apartment he shared with May.
Honestly, he probably had Morgan to thank for not going off the deep end yet.
"Annnnnd princess mermaid flies in to save the day." Peter said as he swung the mermaid doll down to knock over the villain Lego robot that stood amongst the arrangement of dolls and superheroes in the New York Lego city Morgan had set up.
"No Petey. You can't do that." Morgan whined, setting the robot back upright.
"Why not?"
"Because mermaids can't fly." She answered like it was obvious.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know we were being so literal. I mean you have a giant Lego robot rampaging Lego New York."
"It could happen." Morgan shrugged.
And…Peter couldn't really argue with that logic. She was probably right, minus the Lego part.
"So if a giant robot is theoretically possible, why not a flying mermaid?" He asked, trying a different avenue of reasoning.
She scrunched her face up at him as if he'd suggested something incredibly stupid, an expression eerily similar to the one Tony used to make when Peter would try to defend his thought process after doing something dangerous.
"Because mermaids aren't real." She stated.
"How do you know?"
"Everyone knows that."
"Well everyone used to think aliens didn't exist either, but now we know they do." Peter argued.
Morgan's eyes narrowed and she quirked her head to the side as she considered his words, another mirror expression of Tony's.
"Fine. I guess you can play flying mermaid." Morgan gave in with a nod.
Peter had to hold back his grin. Princess flying mermaid took to the sky again.
They played vanquish the evil Lego robot to keep him from taking over Lego New York game until Morgan got hungry.
"Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?" She asked as they put her toys away. Unlike her dad, she was very neat. Everything always had to be put back in its proper place. Definitely a Pepper trait.
"We had mac and cheese for lunch." Peter reminded her. Not that it mattered. He knew if she had the choice she'd eat it until she turned into mac and cheese.
"Please." She begged, clapsing her hands together and giving him her widest puppy eyes.
Peter didn't stand a chance. "Ok but don't tell you mom. If she asks we had peanut butter sandwiches with apple slices and carrot sticks."
"Yes!" She threw her fist up in the air in a victory cheer.
Peter smiled. He didn't truly think Pepper would mind. Every time he'd babysat before she'd been fine with whatever he fed her.
"Will you make the good kind?" Morgan asked as they made their way down the stairs toward the kitchen
"Didn't I make the good kind for lunch?" He frowned. He didn't know there was a good kind.
"No you made the real cheese kind. I want the one with the powder cheese." Morgan explained.
"Does Mommy even buy that kind?" He asked as he opened the cupboard to look.
"Yeah but I only get it for special caseons."
It took him a brief second to figure out what word she actually meant.
"Special occasions." He corrected as he continued to search through the cupboard shelves.
"That's what I said."
Peter didn't argue.
"And what makes this a special occasion?" He asked instead.
"You're here." She said. The cute thing about it was she wasn't even trying to be sweet. She actually meant it. Something melted in his heart.
"But I'm here all the time." He argued.
"So?"
Peter snorted. His eyes lit upon the box of macaroni and cheese he figured she wanted. It was the Kraft kind with Avengers shaped macaroni. He held it out to her. "Is this the one you want?"
"Yeah! That one." She nodded eagerly.
"Ok. But don't you think it's a little weird eating Uncle Rhodey's face?" He asked as he studied the box.
"No." She answered as if she didn't understand why anyone would ever consider that weird. "It's not Uncle Rhodey. It's War Machine."
"Right." Peter agreed, but he really didn't see the difference. At least it was an up to date Avengers team box. No Ironman. Peter didn't think he could've handled making it otherwise.
He placed the box aside on the counter while he filled a pot with water and set it on the stovetop burner to boil.
"Hey Petey?" Morgan asked, almost hesitantly, so he looked over to make sure she wasn't getting into any kind of trouble.
She wasn't. She sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, watching him.
"Yeah Morgan?" He left the pot of water on the stove and walked over so he stood at the countertop directly across from her.
"Can I ask you something?"
Peter didn't point out that she just had. She seemed too serious and somewhat nervous, and he didn't want to discourage her.
"Of course. You know you can always ask me anything." Peter bent forward to rest his elbows on the countertop.
"Ok. Um the other day my friend Laney at preschool was talking about her big brother and all the stuff they do together and it sounded like what you and I do together so I asked Mommy if you're my brother and she said that you were like a son to Daddy so in a way you're my brother. But when I asked her if I could call you that and tell Laney at school about you being my brother she said I had to ask you first. So can I?" Morgan ended her rambling with a shy smile.
Peter blinked, his brain short circuiting as it tried to catch up.
"Y-your mom said it'd be ok?" He asked once he got his bearings.
"Yeah. That's what I just said." Morgan said impatiently. "So can I?"
Mr. Stark's face came to mind. What would he think of this? Would he care? Would he think it was weird that his daughter was calling him her brother? But Morgan had said Tony had thought of him as a son, at least according to Pepper. And why would Pepper lie? So maybe Mr. Stark wouldn't mind? Maybe it would be ok. Maybe he wasn't overstepping. Maybe he could let himself have this one thing.
"I-I'd love that Morgan." He said, choking up but trying to hide it. "I'd love to be your brother."
"Ok." Morgan grinned. "I can't wait to tell Laney at preschool on Monday!"
She jumped down from the stool and came around the counter to hug him. He reflexively reciprocated, still in a state of semi shock. Morgan wanted him to be her brother. Considered him her brother.
With her arms still around his waist she looked up and innocently asked, "Can I have an ice cream bar?"
Peter knew she wasn't allowed to have them until after dinner and having one now would probably ruin her appetite, but at the moment he'd give her absolutely anything she asked for.
"Sure." He said with a smile.
She beamed and released him to run over to the freezer, but not before telling him, "I love you Petey."
It was the first time she'd ever said that to him, and she'd said it as if it was nothing. As if saying she loved him and asking him to be her brother was as easy as breathing.
Peter's breath caught, but he managed to open his mouth and say back, "I love you too Morgan."
As Morgan rifled through the freezer, he turned away to face the simmering pot of water so Morgan wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes.
He appreciated every second with Morgan, but as nice and healing as the time he spent with her was, the moments were still temporary and as soon as he left, he found himself right back to his baseline numbness.
At least it beat the endless crying, which was all he'd done the first couple weeks after Tony's death. Although the constant melancholy wasn't exactly enjoyable either, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd tried to fake happiness because he could tell his mood was taking a serious toll on May and his friends, but they could all see right through him. And he didn't have the energy to pretend for long anyway.
"Tell me what I can do to make it better." May had pleaded one night a couple weeks earlier.
"Nothing." He'd answered honestly.
"Please Peter."
"There's nothing you can do. Nothing will ever make it better." He'd resigned himself to that fact by now.
Tony had died to save them all.
And that same day Peter had ceased living.
He didn't know why that was so hard for everyone to understand. At first they'd all given him space and time, but apparently now they thought he'd had a sufficient amount of both, and he should be starting to get better. Back to his old self.
Peter knew he'd never be that person again.
He sighed as he unlocked the door to the new two bedroom apartment May had found. It was still in Queens and still bigger than the one he'd lived most of his previous life in. His previous life.
At some point he'd started defining his life based on before and after Mr. Stark's death. Before, he'd lived happily in Queens with his aunt and spent the evenings as Spiderman with an overprotective mentor on speed dial. After, he still lived with his aunt but in a different apartment in Queens and without a mentor. And he hadn't touched his Spiderman suit once since the battle with Thanos.
"Honey is that you?" May called out from the kitchen as he walked in the door.
"Yeah." He said back. That was another thing that had changed in the after. He didn't really talk unless he had to anymore. It took too much mental energy.
"Oh good. I'm almost done with dinner." She said. He could smell something pleasant cooking. No smoke sullied the air. "How was Ned's?"
"Fine."
He walked to his room and dropped his backpack by his desk. He and Ned had spent the evening completing all their weekend homework, so Peter had the entire weekend with nothing to do now. He'd discovered it was pretty easy to be a good student when he wasn't spending over half the night out as a masked vigilante.
He eyed the closet where his Spiderman suits, the old and the new one, rested in a bag on the ground. He hadn't so much as touched them since Mr. Stark died. He hadn't even cleaned them. It hurt too much. As much as the people of Queens needed him, the thought of donning the suit without Mr. Stark around seemed like an ultimate betrayal. He knew it didn't make any sense but that didn't change how he felt.
He walked back out of his room, purposely ignoring the closet door.
"Hey May." He said softly and gave his aunt a warm hug in greeting in the kitchen.
"Hey honey. How was your Friday?"
"Ok." He shrugged and watched as she pulled a pan out of the oven.
"You made lasagna?" He asked in surprise. May never went through all the time and trouble to make her family recipe unless there was some special reason. "What's the occasion?"
Unless maybe it was a trick to get him to eat more. His appetite, along with his happiness, had been non-existent.
"First we eat and then I'll tell you." May said as she placed the lasagna on top of the stove and started cutting into it.
She served up a huge piece for him.
He only managed to eat half of it.
"So why the lasagna tonight?" He asked again once he was done. The atmosphere during dinner hadn't been stilted but it hadn't been light either. He could tell May had something on her mind.
May stood and cleared their plates before disappearing down the hallway. When she came back, she held a large envelope. He could see the top of it had already been opened.
"What's that?" He asked, anxiety settling in his stomach at the look on May's face.
"It's for you." May explained. "It came while you were…gone, and I've been waiting for the right moment to give it to you, but I don't think there's ever going to be a right moment…so I thought tonight was just as good a night as any."
Peter frowned.
May handed the envelope to him and he flipped it over to read the front of it. It was addressed to him, and in the upper corner of it, MIT's emblem was printed.
He froze.
"Is this—" He broke off from asking May and pulled the papers out instead.
Dear Mr. Parker,
It is with our greatest pleasure that we extend to you an offer of acceptance to the MIT class of 2019 through the early decision program.
"I got in." He mumbled.
"You did." May said and squeezed his shoulder. "I called the admissions department when you got back. They're not rescinding any previous offers to applicants that returned from the Dusting. You get to go to MIT next fall. I'm so proud of you."
Peter stared at the acceptance letter in front of him. He'd gotten into MIT. He should be ecstatic right now, but he still felt only nothing.
"Are you happy?" May asked after a long few seconds of silence.
"Yeah." He said weakly. "It's great."
May sighed. "This was your dream baby."
It had been.
It just didn't seem that important anymore.
"I know."
He set the stack of papers down on the table. He could go through them later.
"Tony was so proud of you." May said hesitantly, as if she wasn't sure if sharing that information would backfire on her.
"He knew?" Peter turned in his chair to look at her.
"Yeah. When I got it I didn't-I couldn't open it alone, so we opened it together." May's lips thinned. "It was…hard. We were both so proud of you, but you were gone…"
"Sorry." He mumbled. He hadn't meant to bring up bad memories for her.
"It's ok." May smiled sadly at him. She kissed the top of his head.
"Actually, speaking of Tony… I have something else for you." May said cryptically and disappeared down the hallway again.
This time she came back with a Saks bag. Not exactly a store May frequented.
"It's from Pepper." May explained as she placed the bag in front of him. She must've seen his puzzled expression. "She thought Tony would want you to have it."
Interest piqued, he opened the bag and pulled out a sweatshirt. He held it out in front of him. It was a grey hoodie with maroon MIT letters emblazoned across the chest. Mr. Stark's. He'd seen him wear it before. As soon as he realized it, he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply. It even smelled like Mr. Stark. A mixture of his cologne with a hint of oil and ozone.
Even though he wasn't cold, he pulled it on over his head. The sleeves were a little long and it was loose on him, but the evidence that it didn't fit perfectly because it originally belonged to his mentor, only made it that much more special, like he was getting a hug from Mr. Stark through his hoodie. He'd trade MIT, the hoodie, everything, if he could get another actual hug from the man instead.
An instant later he burst into heavy sobs.
"Baby." May whispered and moved quickly to hug him.
He buried his head into the corner of her neck and clung to her.
"This is supposed to be a happy time." She whispered.
It didn't matter what it was supposed to be.
Everything in his life was tainted with hurt.
Peter couldn't even remember what happy felt like anymore.
"Mr. Stark no!" Peter yelled, trying his hardest to get to the man in time. Ironman had the gauntlet in his hand but he hadn't snapped. Peter still had time. He just had to get there. He had to save him.
"Mr. Stark wait!" He screamed and tried to run faster but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to gain any ground.
The man lifted his hand.
"Wait! No!" Peter cried out desperately. But it was too late.
Thanos lunged at his mentor.
Mr. Stark snapped.
"No!" Peter wailed and fell to his hands and knees in despair, reaching one arm out toward the man. He'd failed. He'd been too late. Too late. Mr. Stark was gone.
Over his cries, he heard an unfamiliar voice yelling.
"Help! Someone!"
They were crying for help.
It sounded so close.
Peter's head snapped up. Instead of the desolate battle ground, his eyes met the dark interior of his bedroom.
It was a dream. A nightmare.
But the wound of losing of Mr. Stark was fresh and reopened from it. He pressed the heels of his hands roughly into his eyes and stood. He knew from experience he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight even though his nightstand clock showed it was only 3:43AM.
"Help!" He heard a distant scream. His eyes snapped to his cracked window. The building heat was broken and superheating the entire building. Peter had been so hot before going to bed last night, he'd left the window open to let some cool December air in.
"Please! Help!" The distressed call made it to his ears again. He could tell the person was too far for someone with normal hearing to notice, but he wasn't normal.
He sprinted to his closet and pulled out his Spiderman suit. The old familiar one, instead of the new one that only held the memory of fighting Thanos and watching Tony die. He slipped it on and escaped out the window before he gave himself a chance to second guess what he was doing. Someone was in trouble. He had to help.
"Hello Peter." Karen greeted.
"Hey Karen." He said back as he swung toward the cries for help.
"You have a new message waiting." Karen informed. "Would you like to view it now?"
"Uh that's great, but no. Um hold on, now's not the best time Karen. I've got to help this lady first." He said, not truly registering the meaning of his AI's words. He was too focused on finding the woman screaming.
It only took another couple minutes to find her, and Peter couldn't keep from raising an eyebrow under the mask.
She was young. Well, older than Peter, but most people were. She looked to be in her early twenties with chestnut hair and green eyes. Lips painted red. And she was very stuck. It looked like she'd been walking home and somehow tripped and got her foot stuck in a curb drain. He absorbed all this information as he landed in front of her. The only thing he couldn't understand was why she couldn't just pull her foot back out.
"Good evening ma'am. You appear to be um…stuck?" He asked. He wasn't quite sure what the proper etiquette was in this type of situation.
"Oh thank god." The lady said, relief clear. "I rolled my heel and it fell through here and now it's-it's caught on something inside and I can't reach it to get it out."
Huh. That sucked.
"Are you hurt?"
"No I'm ok I think. Just…stuck. And my foot's starting to go numb."
"Well let's get you unstuck then." Peter said, rubbing his hands together.
"Yes. Thank you. Really."
"It's no problem ma'am." He said as he knelt down to peer into the grate to see what her shoe was stuck on. "That's what I'm here for."
His mask filtered out the darkness and he saw that somehow the strappy part of the woman's heel had gotten twisted and stuck on a piece of blunt metal sticking out of the grate wall inside. The twisting made her shoe too tight to just pull off to get free and it was also the reason her foot was going numb since it was cutting off her circulation. Pure bad luck. But an easy enough fix.
"One second." Peter said. "Just let me…"
He jammed his hand into the grate and managed to grab the piece of metal she was stuck on. When he got a good grip, he ripped it free from the cement side. With his super strength it came out as easy as pulling a toothpick from a cube of cheese.
"Got it." He said as he untwisted the metal piece around the sling back. Once he freed the woman's heel, he dropped the metal down the grate where it landed with a musical tink at the bottom.
"Oh that's so much better." The woman sighed. Peter helped guide her now free foot out of the grate. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He smiled at her under the mask and helped her stand, waiting to make sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. "Are you sure you're ok? You can walk?"
She took a couple halting steps to make sure before nodding at him. "It's a little sore, but I'm ok. My apartment's right there."
She pointed to the building only thirty feet away. "I think I'll make it."
"I'll walk you home." Peter offered an arm out to her and she took it after a couple seconds of hesitation.
"Ok. Thank you."
He acted as her partial crutch until she got to her front door.
She let go of him and smiled shyly. "Thank you Spiderman."
"It's no problem." He gave her a nod. "Have a good night."
"You too." She said and then turned her key into the lock and slipped inside the door.
Peter made sure she was safely inside before webbing up onto a nearby building. Time to go home. His excursion had taken less than thirty minutes. And he hadn't ended up as a pile of sobbing goo on the floor after putting his Spiderman suit on like he'd been worried he would. And at least he'd done something with his sleeplessness instead of staring at the wall or his computer screen like he'd been doing every other night before.
He climbed quietly back into his open window.
"Peter I'd like to remind you that you still have an unwatched video message." Karen spoke up before he had a chance to pull off his mask.
"Oh. Right." He'd almost forgotten.
"Would you like me to play it for you?"
"Who's it from?" He asked, but the answer came to mind as soon as he asked it. Who else could leave a message with Karen?
"It's from Mr. Stark." Karen answered. The confirmation still hit him like a punch to the gut.
Peter sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Would you like me to play it Peter?" Karen asked again.
Would he?
Yes. Hearing his mentor would be like getting another moment with him from beyond the grave.
And no. Because he wasn't really there. Peter couldn't actually talk to him. And wouldn't that hurt too much? Maybe he should save it and listen to it later? Some other time when he was more…stable. Or maybe never? Maybe just knowing it existed was enough?
It wasn't.
"Yes." He whispered. "Play it Karen."
The view screen of his mask faded from showing the background of his room to showing Mr. Stark.
Peter inhaled sharply at the sight of the man.
"Hey kid." Mr. Stark said with a small smile. "Thought I'd leave this for you just in case. Better to be safe than sorry and cover all my bases and all that jazz. Hopefully you never see it. Anywho, we're about to go do something that's a little crazy. Even for me. But I think it has a chance to actually work, so…we've got to try. And if you're watching this, then I guess it worked, and we did what we set out to do, which is…great."
The man paused to rub at his eyes before continuing, "But…I guess it also means I didn't make it. Sorry kid. Didn't mean to leave you hanging. But the risk comes with the territory you know, and this was something that had to be done. So…try not to be too mad at me for it, ok?"
Tony stared back at him from the screen, contrite, for a couple seconds. It seemed so real Peter could almost convince himself the man was actually there, could actually see him.
"And try not to beat yourself up over it." Mr. Stark raised a finger at him. "I know how you are. It wasn't your fault. Nothing you could've done. Because let's be honest, if someone had to do something stupidly self sacrificing, it was going to be me. We both know how I like to be the center of attention. Hopefully I went out with a bang. Sorry. Too soon?"
Peter let out a little snort through his tears. It definitely was.
"Anyway," Tony sighed, "I could take this time to tell you all kinds of cheesy mushy stuff like how much I've missed you these past five years, how much I love you, how you've somehow wormed your way into becoming like a pseudo son to me, blah blah blah, but…I'm not going to do that. It's not really my MO, you know?"
Tony sniffed and glanced at something off screen for a moment before turning back to Peter. "So sorry. No big emotional good bye for you."
Mr. Stark shot him a smile again before sobering and continuing, "But seriously kid, I'm sorry I had to go…but I want you to know I don't regret it. Not if it means I got you back. And let's be real, saving half the universe isn't too shabby of a way to go. Kind of a nice cherry on top of the whole hero career…"
His mentor looked away again and sighed heavily. His bleak expression gave away that he wasn't really as at peace with the whole dying thing as he was trying to portray.
Mr. Stark looked back at him and tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just remember Underoos, now that I'm no longer around to provide you with my infinite wisdom, stick with the guidelines I gave you before. Don't do anything I would do and definitely don't do anything I wouldn't do, just keep trying to stay in that little grey area and you should be fine."
Peter let out a little laugh at the familiar line of advice. He was surprised Mr. Stark remembered it.
Tony stared into the screen for another long few seconds and then gave a decisive nod and a half smile.
"You'll be all right." He said confidently. "Bye kid."
"No wait—" Peter pleaded before his mind reminded him it was pointless. Mr. Stark wasn't really there.
His mentor disappeared and the view in front of him transitioned back to his bedroom.
He ripped the mask off before Karen had a chance to say anything.
He'd gotten his good bye.
It hadn't helped.
He stared numbly at his mask on the ground. Mr. Stark's words reverberating through his brain. I missed you. I love you. Pseudo son. You'll be all right.
But he wouldn't.
A/N: Let me know your thoughts! A couple people mentioned they loved the Peter and Morgan interaction so I went back and found a place in this chapter that fit to add another scene to give you guys some more of them. I thought they'd be hard to write together but they're actually really fun. I hope you like it!