Aero remembers the attack on New York—the one in 2012, that is, because God knows there's been more than one.

He was almost twelve, but not quite there yet. He was with his mom, on a plane, which he'd always hated being on. They were too stuffy and he was afraid of heights and he always felt awkward whenever he was offered a drink from someone. He would rather be on the ground, in his room, listening to the soundtrack to Bare: a Pop Opera for the 15th time in a row. But when his dad had called, frantic that Pepper and Aero get the hell out of the city, they listened.

Aero hadn't really understood why they had to leave until he was watching the news report.

His mom had noticed him watching and had sent him to the back of the plane to protect him. Clearly, that hadn't worked—he'd pulled up the livestream on his phone and had watched with muted horror as a shaky camera recorded his dad flying toward whatever hell-hole had opened in the sky. And then his phone had started ringing, and it was his dad.

Don't go up there, Aero remembered saying.

It's the only way, Tony had argued. I love you, kiddo,

. . . I love you, too, dad, Aero had muttered just before the call cut out and his dad was in space.

Aero will be honest—he didn't think his dad would come back. Like, aliens from space were attacking the city. He didn't have enough hope to believe that his dad could survive that, much less a quick trip into the galaxy. There wouldn't be any oxygen. He'd fall too fast and would hit the ground too hard. He'd die, and Aero wouldn't get a chance at a proper goodbye.

And then, somehow, he'd survived.

Aero had begun running to Stark Tower the second he was let off the plane. It was far, and Happy had actually managed to catch up to him in the car and driven him the rest of the way. The second they were at the tower, Aero had gone inside, not bothering with security or caring about the fact that the man who'd caused the invasion—Loki, as Aero would learn, because, sure, the Asgardian gods are real—was so close that Aero could punch him, if he wanted to. He just cared about his dad. He didn't stop following Tony around for a week, and his dad hadn't really minded. It was a comfort for both of them.

Aero thought it would always be like that—one of them faces a horrible situation, and the other is there to help them through it.

There was no comfort anymore.

But there was a calm.

That was the only way to describe it.

Was there a better way to describe the feeling of a dream, so quick that you could barely remember it? How you appear on the streets of New York near the evening, just like it was when you left? How you're surrounded by people, everyone looking around in quiet wonder, trying to see if they're the only ones who felt it, the dream-like trance that lasted for only a moment, or for what seemed like only a moment?

He remembers the feeling of dreaming. He'd been walking out of a mini store with a bag of different snacks for the game night and a soda for himself. Then, an almost trance-like fog seemed to cover his mind, but only for a moment. It felt like nothing had changed, like no time had passed between the moment he was outside the store and the moment he came back to reality.

Chaos.

That's the only way to describe the outcome.

The scream comes from across the street, the shout of, "RONNY!" cutting through the silence. It's enough to snap Aero out of his shock, but he doesn't have time to process what the hell had just happened before he's falling down to the sidewalk, him and the others, as the ground rumbles beneath their feet. It's quick, and it doesn't last long—Aero is back on his feet in seconds. He immediately looks in the direction of his home and sees the smoke rising. He doesn't think twice—the car he took to the store is no longer in front of it, so he runs.

It's hard work, running seven miles. Aero has never been a runner—he found it useless. Which probably wasn't the best thought, because now he's out of breath and he still had six miles to run. He almost wants to get a cab, but how would he get the attention of one in chaos like this? And calling Happy is out of the question—he doesn't want to have Happy drive him into what looks like a battlefield. Truly, Aero doesn't understand why he's even headed there himself. But something is telling him to hurry. So he keeps running.

His phone rings, too loud to handle, and that's when Aero realizes that he's alone on the road. He takes out his phone and answers it without even thinking.

" . . . Aero?" Happy asked, hesitantly, almost like he couldn't believe that Aero was actually on the phone, like Aero had never answered the phone before.

"Happy, what the hell is going on?" he demanded, slowing down. He was breathing too heavily. His legs felt weak.

"You're alive," Happy replied, quiet.

"Yes I'm alive, that doesn't answer my question," Aero said. He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm almost at the compound, I'll just—"

"No!" Happy shouted, cutting Aero off. "Don't go there, it's too dangerous!"

"Happy, something is happening. I have to go." He hung up without waiting for a reply, put his phone in his pocket, and started running again.

It got harder to breath the closer he got.

Smoke was rising from the battlefield (and Aero can see, now, that he was right about there being a fight), clogging his lungs as he struggles to take a deep breath. He's at the edge of the world, it feels like—staring, bewildered, at the scene before him. Two armies are clashing, and everything is in complete disarray. Aero ducks behind some rubble as someone flies overhead—in the back of his head, he knows it's Sam Wilson, but he doesn't come back up until the area is clear. It's hard to breath, but Aero just wants to know what's going on. He can't fight—he knows that. So he stays behind the rubble, hoping he wasn't going to be found and killed.

His wish is almost granted.

He makes the mistake of peaking over the rubble to check out the battle, looking for his dad, or Peter, or even Uncle Rhodey, someone he knows and trusts. But he's spotted by a large, ugly alien, who comes running toward him, drawing what looks like a sword and pointing it straight at Aero. Aero scrambled away and fell down, eyes wide, not being able to form the words to call for help—

It's shot down.

The body falls at Aero's feet, making him realize just how close it had been to killing him. He looked up and met the dark eyes of a man he'd last seen on a Wanted poster, but he can't think about the fact that Bucky Barnes just saved him before the man is running off again, not even letting Aero say thank you.

Aero moved away, trying to find more rubble.

But he doesn't have to. The battlefield goes silent. The roar of the armies and the clashing of metal and metal dies out almost instantly. Around Aero, the enemy turns to dust—at least, that's the best way Aero can describe it. Dust, flying away in the wind. And then he gets a good look of where he is.

There's rubble of the compound, his home, mixed with the broken piece of a spaceship that had obviously once been so mighty. There's gallons of water so close to spilling over into the field, but it's all being held back by magic, preformed by people in robes standing off to the side. Around him, the aliens look around, as if they can't believe that they've lost, and it's suddenly easier to breath. Aero finds it easier to think, too, now that perfect silence has fallen over their heads.

"What the fuck," Aero finally said, just a little too loud.

A man with black and grey hair a few feet away turned to him. He looked like a wizard, but Aero didn't have time to focus on how cool he looked, more worried about what the hell he was looking at. But the look on the man's face—sorrow and regret, with sad eyes that made Aero actually feel bad for the stranger—stumped him.

"You must be Aero," the man said. "Peter and Tony . . . they spoke of you. I figured it was best to leave you in the city, but I see you've found your way over here."

Aero stared at him. "Uh. Okay. Nice cape. You look like a wizard."

He didn't understand the pain in the man's eyes at the comment.

Aero quickly moved on. There were so many people that he didn't recognize, but none of them were attacking each other, so he assumed they were the good guys. As he dove further in, familiar faces began to show—the king of Wakanda, T'challa, helped with the wounded; Clint Barton kept a sharp eye out for something, probably stray enemies; Thor spoke quietly with Steve Rogers. Aero had to stop himself from going over to them, excited to see Thor again. Hell, he was happy to see both of them alive, even if he still disliked Steve.

He looked around once more. A dark-skinned woman hovered over the battle field on a flying horse (sure, why not?); on the ground, a woman in red and gold spoke with another dark-skinned, bald woman. Further away, a . . . green-skinned woman was sneaking away from the battlefield. Aero stared at her for a moment before looking away, knowing it was none of his business. He looked to the left and moved on.

Then he stopped short and did a double take.

"Bruce?" he asked. Hulk— no, Bruce— no, a combination of the two turned around. His eyes widened at the sight of Aero, and Aero made the same expression. This was clearly Bruce, but in the Hulk's body. It didn't make sense! And, also, the last Aero had heard of Bruce, he was considered dead! Or in space! But that wasn't the main question on Aero's mind, not by a long shot. "What's going on? What happened?"

"Aero," Bruce said, still amazed. Aero frowned and turned away, looking at the battlefield. About fifty feet away, past some rubble, he caught sight of a metallic armor. It was different than he'd last saw it, but he'd recognize that shade of red anywhere, and when he raised his eyes up, he caught sight of a face he'd been hoping to see again.

"Peter," Aero mumbled, his voice only a whisper to his own ears. He took a step forward, then another, and then he was running. "Peter!" he shouted, his voice wobbly. Exhaustion pulled at his legs and made it hard to catch his breath, but it was worth it when Peter looked up, his eyes going wide. He smiled, but if fell away, and he quickly ran to meet Aero out in the rubble. Aero didn't wait to throw his arms around him, pulling Peter close and burying his face into his chest, trying not to cry. Peter's arms circled his waist, and his chin rested on Aero's shoulder as he shook, clearly holding back tears of his own.

"Aero," Peter breathed, quiet. He pulled away, leaning their foreheads together. "You're— you were— you're the same age? You didn't turn to dust?"

Aero squinted at him. "What?"

Peter shook his head. "I guess it'll make sense later. Mr.—" Peter cut himself off as his voice cracked. Aero frowned, pulling away from him. "Your mom is— she's over there," Peter choked out. "But I don't think you should go over— over there, Aero, please don't go over there—"

He didn't stop Aero from pushing past him, running in the direction of his mom. He saw her, then—her and Uncle Rhodey, standing there, together, both of them looking shocked. Rhodey caught sight of Aero and seemed to come back to reality, moving away from Pepper and blocking Aero just before he could get to her.

"Kid," Rhodey said seriously, putting his hands on Aero's shoulders to stop him from moving. Aero frowned.

"What?" he asked, before giving Rhodey a quick hug. "What's up? I need to talk to Mom."

Rhodey sighed. "No, you should go with Peter. Please," he begged. Aero moved away from him, finding that Rhodey wasn't trying to keep him in place.

"No, I wanna see my mom. I need to know where my dad is," he said, looking over Rhodey's shoulder. That's when he saw it.

Pepper was looking at someone, still, silent, and pale. Peaking out behind the rubble were two things—a hand and a foot, both covered in red armor. It wasn't the kind of red on Peter's suit, though—it was the kind of his dad's suit. And his mom was crying and Rhodey and Peter had tried to stop him, and that could only mean—

Aero didn't realize he was moving until he was looking at it.

Until he was looking at his dad.

He felt someone's hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away. They were saying something, but it all sounded warbled, like he wasn't fully there. He was shaking—holding back tears, he realized, his bottom lip quivering. Because his dad was right in front of him, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the sight in front of him. Half of his body was burned horribly, and he was deathly pale, almost like— like he was dead. Lifeless eyes wouldn't meet Aero's, wouldn't give him some sort of reassurance that his dad was alive, just hurt. He wanted to scream at everyone around him—his dad needed a doctor, and instead people were just walking around! Didn't people care that he was hurt?

"Aero," Pepper was saying, her voice soft. She tried to turn him toward her. "Come on, we need to go. Come on."

"Dad," he said, and that was all it took for the dam to break. He surged forward, dropping to his knees as he sobbed. "Dad, dad, wake up," he said, reaching out to cup his dad's face in both hands. "Dad, please wake up," he begged, babbling by this point, desperate for his dad to hear him and wake up, because Tony was dead, Tony Stark can't die, this isn't happening, this isn't happening—

Peter pulled him away. He turned Aero toward him and tries to do that stupid breathing exercise that he usually did to help Aero through his panic attacks, but all Aero can see is Tony, motionless Tony, and he cries. He doesn't stop crying, even when Peter pulls him into a hug, begging Aero to breath, telling him that it'll be okay. But he can't see why—he doesn't see how anything will be okay.

The world lost a hero. But Aero lost his dad.

Everything happens too fast.

Aero is pulled off the field by Rhodey, but he's left to the side for awhile, watching numbly as everyone begins picking up the pieces left behind from the fight. He sees the Avengers, the first ones, gathered around his dad, talking; none of them are crying, and it makes Aero fucking angry. His dad, their friend, is dead, and they can't even bother to shed a tear. None of him gets it—they're meant to be strong, sure, but it doesn't matter. Crying is strong, too.

Thor's the one to talk to Aero when they finally decide it's time to get Tony off the field. He distracts Aero with tales of Asgard, the New Asgard, and Aero lets him because he doesn't want to see his dad's body and he knows Thor is just trying his best. So Aero lets him. It's nice, catching up with one of the people he hasn't seen in years. He almost wishes Bruce was there, because Aero has a lot of questions for him, too, but he's okay with just listening to Thor for now.

Thor introduces him to the woman on the flying horse, Val, who doesn't smile too much but who seems fun to be around. Aero wants to meet the woman with the short blonde hair, but she's gone before he gets the chance, and he has a feeling she does that too often. He sees Steve, later on, but he doesn't say hi, not because he's still bitter with Steve—he isn't. He's over the fighting, really—but because he just doesn't want to talk anymore. He does wave at Bucky Barnes, though, still thankful that he'd saved Aero's life not even two hours before. Bucly waves back, too, looking more than confused.

He meets up with Bruce when the sun is beginning to set. Everything is quiet and calm, and Bruce tells him about the Snap, about the five years that Aero's missed. He remembers that Aero's favorite artist is Ben Platt and tells him that Ben had released a new album in 2019, and Aero kind of wants to go home just to listen to it, but he quickly realizes there's no home to go to. Except there has to be, because he doubts his mom and dad stayed at the Compound, so they had to live somewhere, right? And even if there wasn't another house, they would find one, him and his mom, and call it home, or they would stay with Rhodey or something. Anything but the Avengers Compound.

Anywhere but a reminder of his dad.

Aero blocks Tony about whenever the thought of him springs up, but it's not easy when everyone goes to talk about Tony, only to stop short when they realize who they're talking to. Aero pushes down the feelings that threaten to overwhelm him and instead puts on an interested face when he learns about New Asgard for the tenth time, or is told about Vision's death, or how badass Wanda was on the field. He puts on his Press Face, the face he makes when he'd rather be anywhere else, but he has to play nice for the camera. The world was going to be watching him, and Aero had to be strong.

His mom finds him when it's dark.

She hugs him so tightly that he can't breath, but Aero doesn't care, burying his face into her shoulder as he exhales deeply. They're silent, but it's enough for both of them—they don't need to talk about Tony, or the Snap, or whatever else Aero missed when he was gone. They just need each other.

She tells him that he's staying with Rhodey until the funeral. Aero finds that he doesn't care about that, because there are worse places to be and he knows they both need a moment to themselves before they have to let him go. It's an easy choice to make, and Aero meets up with his uncle by the time he's normally in bed. Happy meets them a mile from the battlefield, and it's clear he's been given the news because he has a new pack of headphones for Aero to use, and Aero does use them, tuning out everything by blasting the Beetlejuice soundtrack as loudly as he can.

Rhodey asks if he wants dinner, and Aero refuses. He doesn't think he can stomach anything at the moment.

Ned and Michelle text him, but Aero doesn't answer. It only takes a day for the news to heart about Tony, and then it's everywhere. Everyone texts him, tweets at him, DMs him on Instagram and asks him if he's okay. And how can he answer that? Of course he's not okay. He's been gone for five years and his dad is dead, the world is ending, and nothing is ever going to be okay again, because why would it be? What kind of question is that?

It takes a week for Aero to see his mom again.

It's not her fault. He know it's not his fault, either. She's planning the funeral, and Aero's numb to any emotion, so it's safe to say they wouldn't get along at the moment. He knows it's okay to cry, and it's better to get the tears out now than at the funeral, where he'd have to be strong. But he can't. He rejects the food he's offered. He numbly hugs Happy when he arrives. He has his music on full volume when he wears headphones, listening to Ben Platt's debut album, which had come out when he was . . . gone. He still refuses to say dead, and Blipped is absolutely stupid.

He's quiet and numb and scared.

It's strange, almost. He's scared of the future. He's scared of seeing everyone else at his dad's funeral. But he can't feel anything for his dad.

It's awful. He knows it is. But the thought of his dad doesn't bring him to tears. It's not the funeral preparations, or the way people hug him and ask if he's okay. Aero feels absolutely, completely empty, and not even seeing his dad's face on the news can get him to cry. He knows Happy and Rhodey look at him like he's crazy, and maybe he is—but there's nothing there. Fuck, half of Aero's time is spent on YouTube, laughing a funny vines.

He thinks they're going to send him to therapy.

The world, for the most part, is handling everything pretty well. There's a dozen new reality TV show pitches about someone who married someone else when they're partner was Blipped, but now that their partner is back, what happens now? There's paintings of heroes and celebrations and movie deals about Tony's life that Aero is positive no one close to him signed off on, but it doesn't seem to matter to anyone but Aero. Pick your battles, Rhodey said when Aero swore at the TV when it was announced that another movie was being made about Tony, staring fucking Tom Hanks. If his name is mentioned in any of them, Aero is going to sue, and he tweets that publicly because he just doesn't care.

"Pizza tonight?" Rhodey asks, and Aero shakes his head no, heading off to bed without another word.

By day four, Aero thinks he's going crazy.

He wants to text Peter to come over, to help him calm down, but Peter hasn't texted him yet and Aero doesn't want to bother him when he's probably trying to get his life back on track after being Blipped. Aero has enough support to easily slip back into his old life—Peter, not so much. He's probably had to move, and with school starting soon, he's probably stressed about having to repeat his sophomore year. Aero knows he is.

But it still doesn't stop Aero from missing him like crazy.

He's throws himself into music. The one time he leaves the house with his uncle, he goes to a music store close by and buys a guitar, hoping his uncle isn't going to mind the noise. He learns the cords to Ease My Mind by Ben Platt and thinks about Peter and tries his best not to think about his dad. It's difficult, but he manages, because he has to be strong for everyone else. His mom was grieving and Aero had to be there for her, because there weren't many other people. He has to be the man of the house and he has to be good and not cry and just be strong, but that's all he can manage to be.

By the sixth day, Rhodey forces him to sit at the table and eat. He watches Aero closely, making sure he doesn't move until the plate is done. Then they spend the rest of the night watching movies silently, a bowel of popcorn between them that gets refilled after every movie. It's 2 AM and Aero feels tired but he can't help but laugh when they're watching Beetlejuice and it's enough to drive every bad thought from his mind when Rhodey criticize the Harry Potter characters for their stupid choices, because "Why didn't Harry realize that Sirius wasn't really in danger, why did Dumbledore allow that meathead to teach a class—"

It's enough.

By the seventh day, one day before he has to face the world again, Rhodey sits with him in his room. They're both silent, but Aero knows he wants to talk about the funeral, about Tony, but Aero can't. He doesn't want to feel anything anymore, and talking about his dad was going to make Aero angry, which he couldn't afford to feel.

"We need to wake up by seven tomorrow," Rhodey says. Aero nods, putting that down in his mind. "Pepper sent over a suit for you."

"New?" Aero asks, because he doubts his old suit is still around.

"Yeah," Rhodey confirms. Aero nods. "Do you need anything, Aero?" Rhodey asked, his voice soft.

Aero stares at him blankly. Happy had come to see him earlier. His mom hadn't, but he knew she was okay. And Rhodey was obviously fine. And that blonde woman who wore the red and gold suit was clearly okay, too (she even told him his dad was a hero, but Aero hadn't been able to catch her name before she'd left the apartment). Steve, Clint, Bruce, Thor—they weren't going to check up on him because he wasn't family. They'd see him at his dad's funeral. But there was someone who would've come to see him if she had the chance. And Aero didn't see why she wouldn't, unless. . . .

"Where's Aunt Nat?" Aero asked, voice monotone, knowing the answer in his soul.

Rhodey hesitates. Aero buries his face into his pillow and, for the first time in seven days, he cries.