The when, as it turns it, comes sooner than he had intended.

Pepper's meetings are done, so there's no reason, now, for them to remain in the city. Extensive as Peter's injuries were, he hadn't imagined that the boy would want to be moved so soon, and that, deal or no deal, he'd be hesitant to leave the city at all.

And while getting him to agree had been hell, getting him to follow through… not so much.

Bright and early the next morning, he goes to check on Peter, hoping that Morgan's conspicious quiet didn't mean that she'd gone to bother the vigilante as soon as she'd opened her eyes, but entirely suspicious that she had. He hasn't seen or heard from Peter, or Jarvis, regarding him, this morning, but then again, he's barely been up long enough to make his cup of coffee. But also… yeah, that's been enough time for him to grow suspicious at not hearing anything.

And rightfully so, he discovers as he knocks lightly on Peter's door and then cracks it open to find both Peter and Morgan wide awake and apparently coloring together on Peter's bed.

Both of them look up when he enters, and oddly, only the one who's not his biological kid is the one that looks immediately abashed.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark, she came in and I was awake, and I tried to get her to go back to sleep but she didn't want to and I thought I could keep her out of your hair for a while-"

"Peter," Tony interrupts gently, holding up a hand. The boy falls silent immediately, but Tony just offers him a small smile. "It's fine. I'm more concerned about her waking you up than anything."

Morgan has gone back to her picture, but she looks up, looking as offended as a six year old can at the accusation. "He was awake when I came in, daddy. I just came to keep him company."

"So I hear. And you knew that before you came in, I suppose?"

"Yes. I asked Jarvis," she answers, matter of factly, then goes back to her picture.

Tony sighs, but he can't argue with that answer. He could ask Jarvis to be sure, but it's not going to make a difference either way, and they've already established at this point that Peter's bad enough at lying that he would probably be able to tell if he was covering for her.

He walks over and scoops Morgan up, setting her on his lap. "Peter's not here just to play with you, little miss. Just remember that."

"But he likes it!" Morgan protests, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I don't mind, Mr. Stark, really," Peter adds helpfully.

"See!" Morgan squirms in his lap. "Can we go back to coloring now?"

Tony shakes his head, exasperated. He can already see that the two of them are going to be quite a pair. He just doesn't know if he's ready for it or not. "I suppose you could. But don't you want to help me make breakfast?"

"Or… we could… finish our pictures and help you after?" Morgan suggests, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Tony glances at Peter, but the teen also seems to be waiting on his answer. He sighs. "I suppose so. You've only got a few minutes, though, understand? You have to eat, and so does Peter, so he can get better."

She wriggles excitedly and climbs off his lap. "Okay!" she agrees easily.

He stands, looking at them both coloring happily, and just shakes his head again before heading for the door.

As promised, they both appear in the doorway to the kitchen several minutes later, with a sleepy Pepper not far behind. Tony hands his wife a cup of coffee as she settles at the counter, and takes the picture that Morgan offers him as she climbs up on the stool beside her mother. Peter is a little behind both of them, not entirely steady on the crutches Bruce had insisted he use after he reset and checked all of his injuries, but making his way there slowly but surely. He hadn't used them last night, and it had taken both Tony and Pepper to get him back to bed. Though neither of them had said anything, Peter clearly doesn't like to be a bother in any form, and has apparently decided to use them, whether to save them the trouble or himself the pain. Tony doesn't really mind the reason so long as he complies.

Tony pins the picture to the fridge, then turns back to them, brandishing a plastic spatula. "Well, you're all a bit late to help, but thankfully, the food is still warm, and I'll be nice and let you help me eat it." He winks at them, earning a playful eye roll from Pepper, a giggle from Morgan, and a small, unsure smile from Peter. It feels like a triumph.

He returns to the stove to make up their plates, humming a little as he fills them and passes them out. He's just settling down next to Pepper when the little girl looks at her parents and asks, "When are we going home?"

A simple question, but one that makes everyone else at the table freeze. Tony looks at Peter immediately, unable to help it, then to Pepper, then flicks back to Peter before settling on Morgan to address her. The teen is silent, and is watching him when he looks at him, clearly curious about the answer himself. "We'll go back to the lakehouse when Peter is ready," Tony answers, after a moment of silence.

Morgan frowns. "When will that be?"

"When he's ready," Tony repeats. "Depending on how he feels, it'll take time. You can't rush him, Morgan."

Her little face scrunches as she considers this, and she tilts her head back to look up at Peter, seated at her side. "When do you think you'll be ready to go home with us, Petey?"

"Morgan," Pepper scolds, but Peter waves it off.

"It's alright, Miss Potts. Really. Honestly, after our talk last night, I'd assumed we'd be leaving today." Peter shrugs, picking at his food with his good arm.

"And I told you last night that we could leave when you were ready," Tony says. And he did. He'd told Peter when he asked that they could go when Peter was ready, sure that he was comfortable enough both with them and healed enough that the ride wouldn't cause him immense pain, and Peter had accepted that answer before allowing Tony and Pepper to help him back to bed, as he'd tried to get up soon after and found the pain in his leg to be close to too much again from it's recent reset.

Peter holds up a hand in mock-surrender. "I know, and I appreciate that, but… what's the point in waiting? Your work in the city is done, and I can't do anything no matter where I am. We may as well all be as comfortable as we can, and you guys are most comfortable out there."

Morgan bounces on her stool. "So we can go home?"

Tony and Pepper exchange another look, and they both shrug. "Sure," Tony says. "We can go home today."

"Yay!" Morgan bounces happily. "You'll love it out there, Petey. It's so pretty and quiet." She shoves a bite of food in her mouth. "It's so loud in the city, but not there. And we have a lake, too! We could go swimming!"

"Not right now, he can't," Tony interrupts. "And you won't be doing anything until we can get there, little miss, which means you better stop flapping away and eat your food. The sooner we're all done here, the sooner we can get on the road."

Morgan makes a face at him, animated as always, but goes quiet and starts digging into her food. While the city is always exciting to her, for a few days, her home was the lakehouse, pure and simple. She didn't have near the freedom in the city or the affinity for it that her parents had, and it showed, every time they were there for more than a few days. That might change when she gets a little older - just like it had for Tony - but for now, her preference was clear.

Everyone else follows her example, and the table goes quiet but for the sound of forks hitting plates and the occasional condiment bottle. The silence isn't awkward, though; it's comfortable. At this point, most everything is out in the open, and everyone on the same page, so there's no reason for it not to be.

When they start to finish up, Tony glances at Morgan. "Why don't you go get ready, Mo?"

Picking up on what he's trying to do immediately, Pepper pushes her plate aside and stands. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Come on. Let's go together and help each other pack."

"Okay!" Morgan pushes her plate away too and hops up, following her mother. A moment later, they both disappear down the hall, leaving Tony and Peter alone again.

Peter seems to shrink back into his shell as soon as both women are gone. Tony lets out a breath and picks up the empty plates, carrying them to the sink and beginning to clean them before speaking. "Are you full? Was that enough for you?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm full. It was good, Mr. Stark. Thank you."

"Tony, kid." Tony shakes his head. "And I'm glad to hear it. If you're sure you're done, I'll take your plate. But we're going to be on the road a while, so if you want more, don't be shy."

"I'm okay. Here you go." He pushes the plate over to his side of the table and falls silent again.

Tony takes it, washing them silently for a moment. "Are you sure you want to leave today? Morgan doesn't really know any better, but even still, you shouldn't let her push you if you're not ready. We can stay as long as you'd like."

"I know. But like I said… there's no reason to stay here, either. We may as well." He pauses. "I don't want to keep you guys away from home. It's not like there's one here I'm itching to go back to, so…"

It's true, Tony supposes, though he decides to skirt around that touchy subject for now and not risk Peter closing off so much again. "Right. Well, I was going to ask you… do you have a preference for how we get there? I can take you, separately, so we can make more frequent stops and you have more room to move around. If we go with Pepper and Morgan, we might get there quicker, but Morgan probably won't leave you alone the whole time, and you won't have much room or time to stretch or anything."

"Oh…" Peter sounds surprised, like he hadn't even considered it. "Well, it doesn't matter that much to me, either way. I'm happy with either, so long as we get there."

Of course he wouldn't pick one or the other and make Tony's life easier. He understands, but it still saddens him, to an extent. "I think I'll take us separately," Tony tells him. "If that's okay with you. Then we can stop and grab you some clothes and such, too."

"Hm?" Peter looks up at him. "Mr. Stark-"

"Tony."

"Tony," Peter repeats, then shakes his head. "Thank you, but… how can I possibly accept anything else from you? I don't need clothes. Or anything, really-"

"You need everything, because you've had nothing, including clothes. You quite literally need them. And it's simple. You can accept it because I want to give it to you and because I have more money than anyone ever should in one life so there's no reason I can't buy you anything, Peter."

Peter frowns, looking unconvinced. "But…"

"No buts. C'mon, kid. I just want to help here. And I can be very persuasive if I have to be. Besides, do you have another retired superhero waiting somewhere to help you? Because I don't think you're going to get an opportunity just like this one anywhere again."

Peter flinches a little. "I mean, no… though I have had help before, just not consistently…"

"Not consistently enough that you were having to whore yourself out to get your basic needs met — when you were even capable of that." Tony shakes his head. "I can't and won't let that happen again, Peter. Period."

Peter crosses his arms. "Fine. Whatever. But I don't know why you had to make it sound like I had a choice when you didn't intend to give me one, then. Do me a favor and cut the crap next time. Save us both valuable time and breath."

Tony blinks. "Kid-"

"No, I'm-" Peter stops, running his hands through his hair and looking immediately remorseful. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't snap. I know you just want to help, but… It's been six years, Mr. Stark. I know I've made some questionable choices, but I did what I had to to survive. And as much as I appreciate your help now, you'll have to excuse me if I have a hard time accepting your help. Especially when you keep going on about how easy it is for you to give. If it's so easy, then where have you been for the past six years? Did you really think giving me a suit was going to help me survive better when literally almost no one who doesn't live in your little one percent of the world bubble has everything they need to live right now?" Tony opens his mouth again, but Peter waves him off. "Spare me the apology. I'm not asking you to apologize for something you wouldn't change. Just lay off throwing your clout around. It makes me sick."

Tony closes his mouth slowly. The guilt hits him like a ton of bricks in the chest, but it's a feeling he's used to, at least. Seeing Peter look so tired and haggard, as if the energy the outburst had taken had left him exhausted, is something else entirely. He doesn't even sound angry anymore. Tony almost wishes he did. Anger is easier to deflect and deal with than laid-bare emotion.

He forces himself to take a breath, think about how he should respond, but he doesn't get the chance. Morgan comes bounding out of the hallway, a backpack already over her shoulders, and her mother in tow. "We're ready to go!" she announces helpfully.

Tony scoops her up, both grateful and sad for the distraction ending the conversation there. But he pushes the thoughts out of his mind for a moment nonetheless. He swears the girls can smell his inner turmoil sometimes. "Are you, now? Well then. We shouldn't keep you waiting any longer, should we?"

"Nope!" Morgan chirrups happily. She looks at Peter, then back at her father, expectantly, seeming confused by the fact that neither of them appear to have moved. "Are you ready?"

"Peter and I are almost ready. But we're riding separately from you two. So you can go now, and not have to wait on us." He passes her over to Pepper, who tilts her head but seems to guess his intentions without asking, and so doesn't.

"You're not coming with us? Why not?" Morgan whines, oblivious to the understanding between the adults.

"Peter and I need to make a few pit stops, sweetheart. It'll be easier and quicker for everyone if it's just the two of us," Tony tells her. He ruffles her hair. "We'll both be back home with you before you know it."

Morgan pouts, but nods. "Okay… I guess." She reaches up for a hug, and Tony smiles and complies, pressing a kiss to her head before leaning back and letting Pepper take her fully.

He kisses his wife's head as well, running a hand down her back as he passes. "I'll take your bags out to the car. I'll be back in a minute, Pete," he adds over his shoulder, in the boy's general direction, just to make sure he realizes he's not leaving him, especially for long. He feels like an ass for still not trusting him completely but… he's still, well, nervous.

He gets a quiet, "Yes, sir," in response, which is frankly more than he expected, though not as encouraging as he'd like, either. He doesn't allow himself too much time to dwell on it though, instead heading back to grab his girls' things and get them loaded into the car.

Several minutes later of loading bags, goodbyes, and assuring Pepper where Morgan can't hear that he definitely has a plan, and knows what he's doing, even though he most decidedly does not, and he's on his way back into the penthouse, trying to decide how best to proceed with the conversation, or if it's best to proceed with it at all. Maybe he should just drop the whole thing. Pretend like that conversation never happened, have someone else pick him up some basic clothes and drop them off at the lake house, and try to make the ride there as un-awkward as possible.

But no. Maybe he shouldn't. They'd been on the verge of real communication, after all. Not exactly what he'd wanted to hear, sure, but maybe as honest as Peter had been with him since he arrived. And that step, the vulnerability of it, had to matter more than whatever it was he would say.

Peter is still sitting at the table when he enters the kitchen again. He's put his head down, pillowed on his arms, his eyes closed as he rests there, clearly either not expecting to be observed or uncaring that he is. For a moment, he almost looks… peaceful. The way he should look as he sleeps - relaxed, open, resting - but never seems to be when Tony checks on him, plagued by constant nightmares the way he is. The sight draws him up short.

Thankfully, he's spared from trying to decide how to proceed by the younger man lifting his head up just then, tired, wary eyes fixing on him. "Ready to go, now?"

Tony takes a little breath. "Yeah. Are you?"

Peter just nods. It hits him how exhausted Peter looks, and just how small, young, and he has to wonder if he's always looked like that, or if he's just now noticed it. Was it their talk that drained him? Or was he just hiding it all morning from Morgan, and from all of them?

The latter seems much more likely. He makes a mental note to have a talk with Morgan again, then shakes the thoughts away. Peter is still looking at him, crutches in hand, waiting.

Tony just sighs. "Alright, kid. Let's get this show on the road."