Thanks for the reviews, not many reading but I highly value all those who are.
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''He's not dead, he's not dead. Give me some space,'' Bruce ran to Tony instantly; pushing them all away.
All around dust blew in huge clouds as the opposing army disintegrated; Thanos the last.
The purple monster battled the inevitable; for one dreadful moment it appeared he had succeeded but then he was gone as well.
''Can you get us out of here? To the tower?'' Bruce turned frantically to Thor.
''Hold on,'' The God placed Tony over his shoulder, took Bruce's hand- then slammed his hammer and they were gone.
Steve covered his face with his hands and tried to steady himself- this was overwhelming.
''Steve?'' a voice said to his side, a familiar voice from his past.
''Bucky! Bucky!''
The two men embraced- they grinned at each other as they broke apart.
''Good to see you Steve,'' Bucky patted his shoulder.
''It is good to see you as well,'' their eyes met; the brotherly bond as strong as ever.
''On your left Cap,'' Sam was suddenly beside him. Steve gazed at him in disbelief, he had seen him in battle but now he was here, right next to him. Sam chuckled.
''Good to see you my Captain, my Captain!'' They hugged, thrilled to be reunited.
Then Steve pulled away as worry and anxiety flooded through him- a tight band tightening around his chest.
'' I have to get to Tony,'' Steve was desperate. He was euphoric to see his friends, the team, returned but his husband needed him.
''I can take you,'' Rhodey landed before him.
''Thank you,'' Steve nodded- he had to get to Tony. What if? No, he couldn't even bring himself to contemplate that. That was not how this was going to end! He would not allow it!
''We will find our own way there. You should go to Tony,'' Clint said firmly.
Steve looked around all the people who had been returned and he nodded; unable to process the enormity of their victory but he had no idea what was to come.
''Pops, where's Dad?'' a shrill, familiar voice echoed as a small blue and red figure leapt through the haze and landed in front of him.
Steve froze, he blinked several times; not quite able to comprehend what was happening.
''He's real, trust me. That's your son,'' Strange said to him as he patted his shoulder.
''Peter?'' Steve asked incredulously.
''Hey Daddy,'' the figure launched himself and Steve caught him easily; he smelled him instantly, his familiar scent unique and ingrained in the deepest recesses of his brain. Yes, this was his son, this was his son!
''Bubba,'' he sighed out as he placed a cosseting hand on soft curls and held his lost boy against his chest, breathing his baby in. His pet name for his son came so naturally, it had been five years since he had spoken it but it flowed from his lips as if it had been yesterday.
Peace descended on the grown man, his relief and joy profound; in that moment he felt just love, pure unadulterated love- only love.
''You look kind of beat up Pops,'' Peter sat up in his father's arms pulling his mask off; he trailed a soft finger down his father's face.
Steve laughed through tears of elation.
''Yeah, I guess I do,'' Steve gazed at his little boy in wonder, drinking him in; he looked exactly the same, had not aged, however his nose was bleeding and he had a black eye.
''I carried the gauntlet,'' Peter proclaimed proudly.
''Did you Bubba? That was kinda dangerous,'' Steve wiped the blood away from his baby's face; the caring, paternal instinct so strong.
How had he missed him during the battle? He had been searching for this child for so many years. Although, to be fair he had been pretty busy.
''Pops, everyone had to help out; it was important,'' Peter scolded him.
''Yeah I know,'' Steve stroked his boy's rounded downy cheek just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
''Okay munchkin, Daddy has to go. You will see him soon,'' Sam took the hyperactive child from Steve's arms and Captain America suppressed his primeval instinct to scream not to do that- even though he knew he had to go to Tony.
Steve collected himself and re-focussed with difficulty.
''Stay with Uncle Sam, I will see you soon okay? I have to go check on Daddy,'' Steve said reluctantly and Peter nodded.
''Tell Dad I love him,'' he said. Steve returned the nod.
''Ready?'' Rhodey asked and then they shot away.
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''What happened? Why is everything different?'' Peter asked Sam as they rode the elevator up the tower.
Peter was shocked, shocked to his core.
They had driven through the streets of New York to the tower and it had changed beyond recognition, there were so many closed up businesses; plus it was chaos as the vanished re-appeared- screaming and crashing filled the air- total anarchy taking hold. Peter did not know what to make of it, where had his home, his city gone? This felt like an alien place, an extremely dangerous alien place.
Sam glanced at Clint, what to say? He was struggling himself, it was surreal and he was waning.
Clint hesitated, it was clear that Peter was the same age; still only a young boy- exhibiting no signs of the on-set of puberty.
''Pete, do you know what year it is?'' Clint asked gently and the boy frowned at the question.
Clint had spoken to his wife; she was as bewildered as Peter. Clint was heartened that Peter had not aged, it meant that despite the five year absence he had not missed a huge chunk of his kids' childhoods- they would also be the same.
They were on their way to him; Clint deciding it would be safer for his family in the tower where there was good security- the next few days were likely to be hazardous as the world adjusted yet again.
Nebula took the Quin Jet to pick them up- Clint wasn't sure what they would make of the blue alien but they would cope as these were strange times, very strange times.
''2018, it's my birthday soon. I'm gonna be thirteen,'' Peter confirmed what Clint suspected; five years had not elapsed for the vanished- it had been a mere moment for them.
Sam had put enough together to know that was not right but he wasn't sure how much time had gone by himself. Bucky was passive and non-reactive.
''Why is the building empty? Where is everyone?'' Peter carried on with the questions.
''Your parents will explain,'' Clint said and Peter gazed at the ground, lost for words; feeling very overwhelmed and not a little scared.
''Hey, you hungry? I bet you're hungry cos I'm hungry. Let's stop at the penthouse and get some food,'' Sam suggested. He wanted answers too but his main concern was for the child in their midst.
''I guess,'' Peter shrugged.
Peter eyed Bucky doubtfully; the Winter soldier had been silent thus far, aware that to Peter he was still a murderous assassin.
They disembarked at the penthouse; the remaining Avengers stayed when in New York and of course Nat and Bruce had been living there so there were supplies.
Peter stepped nervously from the elevator and looked around, it felt wrong, why?
Then the boy realised the room was bare, there was no trace of his family. Most disturbing of all the photos were missing; plus Pop's paintings, the antique lamps, the throw cushions, the rugs, their toys, all gone-it was cold and barren. Totally impersonal and sterile- it was no longer a family home.
Peter said nothing but walked towards his bedroom as realisation began to dawn.
Sam went to stop him but Clint held his friend back.
''Let him figure it out some. It will be less of a shock that way,'' he said quietly.
''Hmmm, could someone explain it to me?'' Sam asked helplessly- he was feeling very lost at that moment.
Clint clutched Sam's shoulder and nodded; then he pulled him away to one side.
There was a few stilted minutes, no one sure what to say or how to react. Clint and Sam returned to the group, Sam flashing troubled eyes.
Thor and Rhodey were at the counter, beers in hand. Somehow, they had acquired Pizza and there was a huge pile of boxes beside them. Rocket was there too, not reunited with his crew, who knew where they were?
''I could use one of those,'' Clint said pointing at the bottles; he went to the refrigerator.
He threw a beer to Sam and another to Bucky. Rocket got his own, an outsider.
''Is he alive?'' The Winter Soldier finally spoke, able to ask the dreaded question now Peter wasn't there.
''Yes, our resident God here helped out; did some hocus-pocus and protected him from the full effects but…'' Rhodey answered then he trailed off- clearly Tony was not out of the woods.
Thor shuffled awkwardly, blushing crimson.
'' It was nothing really,'' he waved his hand nonchalantly.
''Thanks big guy,'' Sam clapped him on the back.
''Of course! Of course! It was the least I could do in the circumstances. What with the not going for the head thing and all that!'' Thor proclaimed in an embarrassed tone.
''Damn straight,'' Rocket was blunt as usual.
''Rabbit, I will go for your head,'' Thor warned.
''Yeah, yeah, whatever!'' The raccoon wasn't threatened, far from it!
''Starkson has not aged,'' Thor commented as he cast a hard, disapproving glare at Rocket.
''I know, none of us have,'' Sam took a long draw of beer- it tasted good, very, very good.
''It's a mess,'' Clint said with a sigh.
''A most agreeable mess,'' Thor held up his bottle and they all tapped it even Bucky.
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Peter stood in his room, or what had once been his room. It was stripped and his sense of disquiet grew- panic not far off. There were some boxes piled in the corner but all his belongings were gone. They didn't live here anymore- his family didn't live here anymore!
His home was gone; he no longer had a home- where did he fit now?
How long had he been asleep? That's what it felt like- as if he had been asleep and had experienced some seriously weird dreams. He knew that wasn't right, time had gone by: the city was different, everything was different- his home was different- it actually no longer existed! Which was the extreme definition of different!
Even Pops had changed- he had a beard now-his eyes looked as if he needed to sleep for a very long time- but it was not just that- his eyes were sad, very, very sad.
Peter had no clue what to make of all these monumental shifts; he looked down at himself and grimaced.
He was filthy and should take a shower, get his suit off. Suddenly, he didn't want to be Spider-Man anymore, he wanted to be Peter Rogers Stark again- the son of three of the world's mightiest heroes. Somehow it felt like it had been a long time since he had been him- the real him.
He stood under the hot water and closed his eyes- trying to calm the frantic activity of his loud brain.
Once he had scrubbed his body and hair free of the remnants of the battle; he looked around his bare room as he stood dripping, a towel wrapped around him.
There was a box labelled clothes in the corner so he opened it- he pulled out familiar items which comforted him- thankfully they still fitted.
He wondered where his mom was; she was probably still on the battle field and would return soon. He couldn't wait to see her- he was going to give her the biggest hug- never let go ever again!
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Poor Peter- not exactly the best homecoming but he is used to that. Homecoming never goes well for him.
Comments and suggestions gratefully accepted.
Thanks for keeping with it. I will be updating alot in the next few days.
Stay safe and happy!