Aero Stark nearly makes history on November 1st, 2023, when he walked into Midtown School of Science and Technology with his head held high and his earbuds in, blasting Eddie Baby by Felix Hagan & The Family at full volume to cover up the whispers that float his way when people realize that it's him who's walking down the halls, so soon after the funeral, like they never expected him to come back at all.
Tough luck. He's tired of sitting at home.
It's been nearly nine days since his last mental breakdown, and he's ready for a new start.
It's bullshit, to him, that he has to repeat his sophomore year, but at least he'll be with Ned and Michelle and, fuck, even Flash, who's Twitter account has tweeted nothing but praise of Tony and support of Aero. Aero even gave him a follow, just for being a decent person, and he hopes it's not going to fuck him over later on.
He doesn't think of Peter.
He opened his locker and didn't take out his earbuds until he became increasingly aware that someone was staring at him. Aero almost wanted to start a fight, but he pushed down the anger and turned, relief spreading through him when he realized that it was just Ned, waiting patiently for Aero to talk to him. Aero paused his song and took out his earbuds, offering an apologetic smile before going back to his locker to rearrange the books stored there, even though he doesn't need them—he never does.
"I can't believe you came back," Ned said honestly.
Aero forced a laugh, and it almost sounded real. "Come on, man, me? I love this place."
"Why?"
Aero shrugged. "Good teachers. You and Michelle. Band," he listed, pointedly leaving Peter's name out of his mouth, but clearly not out of his heart. "Plus, I need a distraction, right? And I still need to go to school, so it all works out," he added, just to make his story more believable, just so he doesn't have to think about the fact that he didn't even tell his mom he was going back to school—he just texted her when he was on campus and then didn't look at his phone when she texted him back, and he can already imagine how frustrated she is with him, but he doesn't care.
"Have you told Peter about your feelings?" Ned asked as they start walking down the hall.
Aero scoffed. "Are you seriously still thinking about that in this climate?" he asked, referring to the Blip and the Snap and the whole ordeal of an alien attack not even that long ago. "No, I haven't, and he's being a bitch, so I don't think I will."
Ned sighed, clearly frustrated. "You're both impossible," he mutered, and Aero didn't ask for clarification, but his heart picked up the pace at the idea that Peter might possibly share the same feelings, maybe, but Aero pushed that thought away.
"Is your schedule the same as last years?" Aero asked instead, because his is the same and Aero is a little iffy about the idea of everyone's being the same, because that means he has to see Peter for six periods every day for the next year, and Aero isn't really sure how long this stupid grudge is going to last, or if it's ever going to end.
Ned nodded. "Yeah, I think they felt bad about us having to re-do the year so they're trying to make it more familiar." Aero nodded in understanding, but that didn't stop him from being upset about it. Still, he supposed it could be worse. At least he doesn't have to deal with Martin or Bea. Unless . . . no, Aero wouldn't be that unlucky. Ned would have mentioned they were Blipped, otherwise, Aero reasoned, trusting Ned to have his back.
"Hey, why aren't you with Peter?" Aero asked, remembering that he wasn't Ned's first friend.
"Oh, he told me to check on you," Ned said casually. Aero nodded, his free hand clenching into a fist. Of course Peter was avoiding him. It's not like they said they were friends again the last time they saw each other. It's not like Aero was still waiting for Peter to talk to him and explain what happened at the funeral. It's not like Aero's every waking thought is consumed by Peter Parker, or even his dreams, too. No, he and Peter aren't friends, and Aero has no idea where Peter got that crazy idea.
Oh, wait. Because they said they were friends! The last time they saw each other!
Aero exhaled through his nose, trying not to look angry. "Cool. Tell him I said thank you." He closed his locker, hard. "You know, I think I should go to class before someone asks for my picture. I'll see you later," he said, walking away before Ned could reply. He ducked into Ms. Warren's class and sat in his old seat. He hoped that Peter had enough decency to skip class, but he also hoped that Peter cared enough about his grades to not skip class, and it's a confusing set of emotions, because Aero hated the very idea of Peter and yet all he wanted to do was see Peter's face again.
Unfortunately, he got his wish.
Peter sat in the same place Aero first saw him, and some part of Aero has the same butterflies he'd first had, and the other part of him gets angry. He glared at the back of Peter's head, but Peter doesn't turn around this time, even though Aero knows his Spidey-sense is probably going off like crazy. Betty Brant elbows Aero back to reality, Aero answers Ms. Warren's physics question, and things almost go back to normal.
Aero managed to get his mind off of Peter when he and Betty are paired to answer a question at the front of the room. Aero finished first—obviously, Tony taught him how light could always bend around corners (to some extent) when Aero was nine—and sat down before Betty has even finished reading the question to herself. He tapped his fingers against the black desk, and now his instincts are going off. He can feel someone staring at him, and he can tell from the general direction that it's either Peter or Flash. Normally, Aero would guess Peter, but considering the way things have been going, he isn't so sure.
Aero almost wants to make Peter jealous again, the way he did with Martin in the band room, a moment that seems so long ago. But who would that even work with, and would it even work at all? Plus, Peter told Aero himself not to do it because it makes him feel bad—and Aero had apologized. He never apologizes. Christ, Peter has him so fucked up that it's hard to think. Isn't he supposed to be angry?
He has the same teachers as last year. Or five years ago. Or, to Aero, the same year, because he still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that five years had passed in the blink of an eye. He still hadn't processed his dad's death yet, either, but that was a topic for another day, maybe another five years into the future.
Ms. Warren hadn't changed in the last five years. She looked and acted the same, and it was easy to pretend that life was going to be normal again, even if Aero isn't so sure. Gym with Coach Wilson was also the same—except now when he played Captain America educational videos, the class became sullen as they remembered that their favorite superhero was old.
(Oh, right, did Aero not mention that? Steve fucking Rogers, superhero of the year, had decided to stay in the 1940s—or whenever the fuck he was originally from—in order to marry the girl of his dreams when he'd gone back in time to put back the Infinity Stones. Aero couldn't believe it—Steve Rogers was a man out of time, and he'd changed since the first time Aero had met him. The Steve that Aero knew, grudge or not, wouldn't have stayed back in time. He would have come back to the future. And maybe Aero was angry—why did Steve get a happy ending? Why couldn't Tony get one, too? Why did Steve leave to stay in the past when everything he never needed was in the present?)
(It was selfish.)
(Completely and utterly selfish.)
Dr. Rosewell had changed over the past five years. He was taller and his hair was grayer. He'd toned down from the overly cheery man Aero had known into a quiet, soft-spoken man who preferred reading periods than actually working. Not that Aero minded—he had a lot of books to catch up on. Mr. Harrington was the same as Aero remembered him—strange, but funny. Aero heard more about his ex-wife than he would've cared to know, but he still listened politely.
And then lunch began.
Aero doesn't even remember going to his first four classes—it's all been a blur of sympathetic stares and not-so-quiet whispers. Aero had tuned it all out—it was easy to, sort of, to put himself into a daze. His feet knew where to take him, and Aero didn't have to do much thinking. He wasn't called on in class, but he'd expected that—Ms. Warren was the only one who didn't treat him like he was made of glass, and he didn't know if he was thankful for that or . . . well, he didn't know what. Angry? No, she was the only one not treating him like a kid.
Maybe he should have stayed home.
Anyway, lunch. Aero made his way to Mr. Cobbwell's class, like he had on the fist day of school—no one to sit with, no one to talk to. Of course, he could sit with Ned and Michelle, but that would also mean seeing Peter. Or maybe Peter would avoid the cafeteria, too. Maybe he thought Aero would be there, so maybe Aero should go there. But he'd rather sit in an awkward silence with his chemistry teacher than be stared at by the entire school. There were people that he'd never seen before inside that room, people who didn't know not to approach him. And Aero would, frankly, rather die than be told, "I'm sorry" by a random freshman one more time.
Aero opened the door.
And Peter Parker was in the room.
He was sitting at the same seat he'd had five years before, at the lab station. He was talking with Mr. Cobbwell, laughing, his hair pushed out of his face but that one stupid curl beginning to come down. Mr. Cobbwell turns to Aero, and then Peter sees him and goes silent. Like, deafening silent. Like, Aero clearly wasn't welcome in the classroom because Peter was there, and Peter was going to haunt him whenever he went.
Aero ran.
He went straight into the first boy's bathroom that he saw and locked himself into a stall, trying not to breath too hard. He doesn't think anyone is inside—it's too far from the cafeteria, but he could never be too sure. So he tries to take deep breaths quietly, wanting to slow his breathing. It's hard—he just wants to throw something. He wants to punch something, too. Not a person, just something. A wall. The bathroom door. The stall door. But he holds himself back because he can't really explain a broken hand to his mom without her sending him to therapy, like she's been wanting to for the past nine days.
He covered his face with his hands. There's a stinging sensation behind his eyes, but the tears don't fall. He exhausted. He shouldn't have come to school. He should have stayed home and binged watched Supernatural, or showed Morgan the Harry Potter movies. He shouldn't be here, in a stall of a boy's bathroom, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. Or trying to cry. Something that'll get rid of the lump in his throat.
He doesn't go to fifth period. He doesn't want to see Peter.
He does get the courage to go to sixth period, Ms. Cambell's band class. Peter isn't there, but he can't focus on that when Ms. Cambell is in his face, asking him to play through the notes of their newest song. Aero does so easily.
He gets lost in the music. Ms. Cambell leaves him when it's clear he knows what he's doing, but Aero doesn't stop playing. He's learned almost all the notes to Ben Platt's first album, and he plays them like it's child's play, burying himself under soft piano music. Slowly, he almost feels better, but the moment he stops playing he gets sad again, so he starts another song. No one talks to him—Peter is ditching and Martin isn't there, but Aero wouldn't talk to Martin if he was the last man on Earth, so he supposes it's alright. To be alone. He's not alone, because the class is around him, but, well, he's alone. And he can't really explain it.
So he starts playing the music to Older, and the ground becomes less shaky.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Flash stopped him outside.
It's weird to Aero how much nicer Flash has become. Is nicer the right word? Aero can tell when someone is being kind to him because of his last name, or if they're just a good person. Flash wasn't a good person, but he was trying. Aero isn't even sure if he's still bullying Peter. He's not even sure if he should be grateful to Flash, but he is certain that Flash is becoming a better person. Maybe not immediately, maybe only after Aero had told him off, but something was happening, enough for Flash to warn Aero.
"They're in the front," Flash said, nearly out of breath from running over. "Emerson and Thomas."
Aero's blood went cold. "Is that even legal?" he asked, and he knows it technically is as long as they aren't parked in a news van somewhere, or actually on school grounds. Plus, this is Martin and Bea—Aero can't really expect them to follow the rules, anyway. "Never mind. Are you sure?" he added, forgetting for a moment that he and Flash aren't friends.
Flash nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah. Thomas has a camera on her, and Emerson looks ready for a fight."
Aero nodded, looking around. There's a back exit, a hole through the back fence that a lot of kids use to ditch class. Aero could use it, too. He looks back at Flash and gives him a grateful nod. "Thank you. Seriously," he said. Flash nodded, watching as Aero headed for the fence. Aero slips through the break, and then he's gone.
Aero takes the long way home. He goes behind the school and leaves through the back exit. Some part of him wants to call his mom, because she'd certainly know how to deal with Martin and Bea, but he decides against it. He doesn't need her to solve all his problems when it's just as easy to run away from them. He isn't even sure why Martin and Bea showed up—if they weren't Blipped, surely they'd matured by now, gotten over the fact that they were kicked out of Midtown?
Then again, this was Martin Emerson and Beatrice Thomas. Could Aero really expect them to be mature?
He gets an Uber. The driver is an old man, but he doesn't give off a bad energy. Maybe Aero should learn not to always trust his instincts, but he has a feeling this man means no harm, so he gets into the passenger's seat and buckles in. The man lets him play Ben Platt with the aux cord, and Aero sees him nod along to the songs that play.
"Haven't heart music like this for years," the man finally said. Aero checked his phone to learn the man's name—Jim.
"It's Ben Platt," Aero said casually. "He was on Broadway."
Jim looks at Aero out of the corner of his eye. "Tell me about him."
And Aero can't stop himself. "He started acting young. He was in a Broadway production of the Music Man in 2002, when he was eight or nine, then was in The Book of Mormon from 2012 to 2013—one of the best performances. I forced my dad to take me to it. Oh, and then he was in Dear Evan Hansen from 2015 to 2017, but that was just the Broadway run, he was in it for longer. He got a Tony Award for Best Actor due to Dear Evan Hansen, too. Oh, and he was in Pitch Perfect and Pitch Perfect 2, uh, and Ricki and the Flash. OH! And he's in the Netflix original, The Politician. This is his debut album, Sing to Me Instead, which came out when I was . . . gone," he ranted, trailing off at the end.
Jim nodded, not looking the least bit concerned that Aero seemed to know too much about this particular actor. "My daughter's the same way with her idols," he explained. Aero nodded. "Ah, what's the name. Mishu?" he guessed. "Mishu Collins?"
"Misha Collins?" Aero suggested, and though he wanted to go into a whole other rant about Supernatural, he restrained himself.
Jim took one hand off the wheel to snap his fingers. "That's the bitch." Aero laughed. "When she came back she was heartbroken because her favorite show had ended without her being there for it," he added. Aero nodded. He understood the feeling. "Did you ever see your actor in that Dear Evan Hansen musical?"
Aero nodded. "Yeah! My dad kept putting it off and I was just gonna go without him, but he surprised me with tickets on my birthday! We spent the whole day together and then saw the musical, and I even got to meet Ben Platt," he said, grinning. "Like, it's not unusual for me to meet celebrities, but it's rare that I'll meet one that I actually want to interact with, and meeting Ben was a dream come true." He smiled wistfully.
Jim eyed him. "Your dad sounds like a good man."
Aero's heart sunk, just a little. He hadn't realized how easy it was to talk about Tony until his dad was brought up specifically.
"Yeah! Yeah, he— he was. He was good."
Jim nodded. "I know that face. Trust me, kid, the more days go by, the easier it gets. The pain will dull."
"What if I don't want it to dull?"
"Because it's the only thing you feel?"
Aero decided that Jim knew too much. He turned away, fiddling with his phone. Jim sighed. "Not my place, I know. But it gets easier, I promise. Maybe not now, or later. Maybe even when you're on your deathbed. The pain doesn't go away. It never will. But you'll make room for it. You'll be able to put other things with it. Love. Happiness. And the pain gets along well with those things, even if it doesn't seem like it."
Aero looked up at him. "It's different for me," he said.
Jim smiled grimly. "It's never different for nobody. If you loved the person who died, your pain is no different from anybody else."
Jim pulls the car over when they're a mile from Aero's house. It's where Aero's destination is located. "This your place?" Jim asked skeptically,
Aero nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Thank you. Five stars."
Jim laughed. Aero closed the door to the car and started walking home. He could have had Jim drive him all the way, but call it a precaution, just in case. He could have driven himself to school, too, but he still would've had to leave the car in the front, so it wouldn't have mattered.
It's almost five when he sees the cabin, looming in the near-darkness. The lights are on, reflecting in the lake. Aero takes a deep breath when he opens the door, knowing that he was going to be in so much trouble.
He was expecting to see his mom at the table, but he was not expecting to see Rhodey waiting with her.
It's harder to face both of their disappointed faces.
"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, shifting his backpack. "Uh. Sorry."
Rhodey stopped Pepper from speaking. "Kid. Sit down. We need to talk."
Aero shook his head. "Um. No. We don't. I went to school and I wasn't supposed to, but I'm going to do it again. There's nothing to talk about."
"You can't just—" Pepper cut herself off, taking a deep breath. "We said we would talk about going to school. You should've asked."
"I did ask, and you said we'd talk about, and I was tired of talking," Aero snapped. "I'm not going to stop going to school. You're just going to have to deal with it." Before either of them could answer, Aero walked away quickly, going upstairs. He figured Morgan must be in her room, as she didn't have school, but he didn't stop by before he goes to his room. He figured he has about five minutes before Pepper came up to scold him.
He put his backpack on his bed, taking a deep breath. He could deal with this. He just needed to push his emotions down.
Aero sat there, patient, and five minutes later, Pepper entered the room.
"Aero," she said, gently, but he can hear the strain in her voice. "We need to talk about this. It isn't just about you going to school. It's about the media, and the fact that we need to talk about you seeing a therapist, and—"
"I don't need to see a fucking therapist," he spat.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Aero," she warned, "this isn't normal. Nothing about what you're doing is normal. We just want you to be happy."
"I am happy," Aero argued. "I'm going to school. I have friends. I'm not being harassed about my sexuality, and I don't have to worry about you and da— dad finding out that I'm gay! What more could I possibly want?" He gestured around the room. "I have a kickass room and a little sister and everything is fine. I'm happy," he finished, but he can tell she's unconvinced. Could be blame her for not believing him when he couldn't even believe himself?
"Aero, Tony is—" She stopped. Another breath. "Tony's death is affecting you, and I don't think you realize just how bad it's gotten."
"Oh, don't start," Aero groaned.
She held up her hand. "I just want you to talk to me. I'm your mother," she pleaded, trying to reason with him.
"I don't want to talk to anyone."
"You can't just do these things, Aero, that's not how this works!"
"Then how does it work?" he snapped, standing up. "You're not even my real mom, why do you think you can tell me what to do? I'm sick of being here! This house is a prison! I don't want to be here, or around you, or Morgan, or anywhere! Dad should have let me stay dead!" he yells, and the words seem to echo as both of them fall silent, only the sound of their breathing being heard.
Pepper's eyes are red, they have been since he said she wasn't his real mom (and, God, however much those words hurt Aero, they clearly hurt her more). She smoothed down her blazer and took another deep breath. "I can't deal with you right now," she said, honest, and Aero felt his chest tighten. "When you're ready to talk like an adult, you know where to find me." She closed the door behind her, hard, and Aero sat down on the floor, too tired to get up onto the bed. He hung his head and buried his face into his hands, trying to find the will to breath. It isn't easy.
There's a knock on his door. After a moment, Aero told Morgan to come in.
She poked her head inside, looking cautious. Aero mentally beats himself up for not realizing that she could probably hear the entire argument.
"What's up, Bug?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't take his words to heart.
She looked around and stepped inside. "Daddy always read me a bedtime story," she said quietly. "Can you . . . can you read one to me?" she asked, hopeful. Aero didn't hesitate to agree, pushing himself to his feet so he could go to his bookshelf. He grabbed one of the only books on there, the first Percy Jackson book, and followed Morgan back to her room. She got into bed, under the covers, and he found a chair by the bed, already set up. He sat down slowly.
"Okay, so this is the first book of many in the Percy Jackson series," he said, showing it to her. "It's the best book series ever written. One day I'll show you the musical," he addd, and he can see it now—them listening to the musical (because if was off Broadway by the time Aero returned), trying to find a bootleg of it, Morgan wearing a Daughter of Athena Camp Half-Blood shirt, Aero in his Son of Apollo one. It's a bright future.
"Chapter One. I Accidently Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher." Aero took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. . . ."
By the time he's done with chapter one, he expects Morgan to be asleep. But she's laying there, staring at him with wide eyes. "You have to continue!" she insisted.
"You need to go to bed," he argued, putting the book on her nightstand. "Don't you have stuff to do tomorrow?"
"No," she complained, "I'm here all day." She pouted. "Please read the next chapter?"
He shook his head. "Bug, I want to, you know that, but we both need sleep, remember?" He considered turning off her bedside light before shaking his head and standing up. "I'll read it tomorrow night, chapters two and three," he promised. She sighed. He ruffled her hair and headed for the door.
"Wait," she whisper-yelled. Aero turned to look at her. "Can you stay here tonight? I think there's a monster under my bed."
Yeah, maybe reading about one of the Furys wasn't a good thing to do with a four-year-old.
So Aero laid down next to her and fell asleep before she did, and if he woke up late and didn't go to school just so he could spend more time with her, well, that's on a need-to-know basis. But he can damn well sure say that the cheeseburgers they left the house for the next afternoon were pretty great.