The transition from a life of adventures and battles to a more peaceful and family-oriented routine isn't easy for a superhero and those around him. However, that's exactly what Pepper and I decided to do by moving to New Haven. Our new home, far from the chaos of New York, is the perfect refuge to begin this new chapter of our lives. After a simple and intimate wedding, celebrated outdoors under the blue autumn sky, we embarked on the exciting journey of my wife's pregnancy, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our little princess, Morgan. At first, I didn't think we would actually consider this name, but ever since we found out the sex and started discussing name possibilities, it became clear that this was the one. It couldn't be anything else. But let's get to the details. In October, at the beginning of the sixth month of pregnancy, our routine begins to adjust to the changes it brings more clearly. Pep and I start taking daily walks around our home, enjoying the fresh air and natural scenery. She already has an adorable belly, and I often caress it, feeling our daughter's movements inside when she hears my voice. We spend nights in our gazebo, planning the future and discussing what life will be like when our little one finally arrives.
November brings the seventh month, and with it, more intense cold. We decorate the house for winter and prepare for Christmas, anticipating what it will be like to celebrate the holiday with a new family member next year. Pepper's pregnancy progresses well, though she begins to feel more the weight of the belly and extreme tiredness. I make a point of pampering her with foot massages and special dinners, while she dedicates herself to preparing Morgan's room with enviable dedication. The choice of colors and furniture is made with all the love in the world, and every detail is thought out to create a special environment. The color palette is soft, with predominantly pastel tones, and the walls painted a light mint green. In the center of the room, we placed a white wooden crib with delicate carved details on the sides. It's adorned with bedding in shades of white and pink, with small star and cloud designs that add a touch of sweetness and innocence, something I never imagined having at home. Next to the crib, we put a comfortable nursing chair, and on the opposite wall, we installed a spacious dresser that serves both to store our daughter's clothes and as a changing table. There are also decorative shelves with stuffed animals, children's books, mobiles, and small plant pots.
In December, during the eighth month of pregnancy, the festive atmosphere intensifies. I, for obvious reasons, have never been a fan of the year-end holidays, and find myself facing a great mix of emotions. We celebrate a quiet Christmas, just the two of us, enjoying the peace and intimacy of our new life. We spend hours by the fireplace, talking about our dreams and expectations for the future. Pepper's belly is huge, and she feels Morgan moving constantly, which brings a smile to her face even on the toughest nights. Medical visits become more frequent, and the anticipation of our little girl's birth grows every day. January finally arrives, and with it, the ninth month. We spend our days finalizing the last preparations and our nights talking about what it will be like to hold our daughter for the first time. My wife is a warrior, handling the difficulties of late pregnancy with a grace and strength that fill me with admiration. And then, before February is upon us, the big moment arrives. On a snowy night, full of emotions, Pep goes into labor. The race to the hospital is a blur of anxiety and feelings. It doesn't take long, just a few hours later, and we are overwhelmed by an indescribable sensation. She's here.
Few things in life compare to what I feel when I hold Morgan in my arms for the first time. The warmth of her small and fragile body against mine is overwhelming. I take her to Pepper, and the expression of joy and relief on her face makes all the trials and challenges of the past months disappear in an instant. We both cry uncontrollably, tears of pure happiness and disbelief. It's hard to believe we're actually living this moment, that our daughter is finally here with us. The medical team gives us a few minutes together but soon takes our little girl for tests and cleaning, with Pep going for a bath afterward. Two hours later, we're back in the bedroom, finally united as a family. Morgan, clean and wrapped in a blanket, is brought to us, and I hold her again, this time more calmly, absorbing every detail of her perfect little face. A new nurse comes in and advises Pepper, giving instructions on how to breastfeed our daughter for the first time. When I transfer the little one to her mother's arms, I see that she seems to instinctively know what to do. She latches onto Pep's breast and starts nursing with a determination that surprises and delights me. It's magical to see the bond between mother and daughter form before my eyes. Our life has completely changed, and for the first time, I clearly see the purpose of it all.
Twenty-four hours later, they are discharged, and arriving home with our baby makes us realize just how much things have truly changed. The first month is all about complete adaptation because now we both take on another role and need to fully dedicate ourselves to a third person. Morgan makes it easier since she is super calm, but that doesn't mean the demands lessen; on the contrary, our sleep hours are limited, diaper changes are frequent, and feeding schedules are constant. Pepper is exhausted, and I take on as many tasks as I can, always seeking to provide her with greater comfort. By the second month, things are starting to get easier, with Maguna's sleep becoming more stable. It's funny how she constantly smiles at us, sometimes even making some sounds, but she already clearly shows her favorites for certain activities. While she insists on peeing on me every time I change her, she cries as if her lungs are made of steel when Pep bathes her. If she remains quiet while the redhead adjusts her clothes, she only sleeps with me humming. At least her preferences are balanced.
By the third month, our routine is already on track, with Morgan sleeping through the night, with rare exceptions when she wakes up in the middle of the night. She is also starting to gain weight, something that worried us initially since she was always below the parameters. And of course, we are biased, but we swear this makes her even cuter. It's impossible not to want to spend 24 hours holding her or nibbling on her cheeks. In the fourth month, it's already noticeable how attached she is to us because whenever she's awake, she refuses to be away, crying when she's in the crib or her baby bouncer. She's also learning to hold some of her toys to distract herself, which mostly means her mother's hair and my pinky finger. By the fifth month, Maguna is already sitting up on her own and is the most talkative baby of all, babbling about everything. At this stage, we need to be extra careful because absolutely everything that lands in her tiny hands goes straight to her mouth, even a dirty shoe.
In the sixth month, we start introducing solid foods to Morgan. We were apprehensive, having heard countless stories from parents facing difficulties with this phase. We thought it would be a nightmare, but she surprised us. She accepted everything we offered, and although she had her preferences, she seemed to love the whole experience of discovering new colors, textures, and flavors. Or maybe she was just delighted with the new way to make a mess that she had discovered. In the seventh month, our princess starts crawling. It happens on a completely ordinary Saturday afternoon. Pepper and I are organizing the groceries in the kitchen, and the first movements occur precisely when Morgan decides that the milk carton is not as interesting as the pot. And thank goodness FRIDAY records everything because we will definitely keep watching the video whenever possible. In the eighth month, she says her first word: " papa." This is undoubtedly one of those moments that changes my life entirely. I cry, without any desire to hide it. Despite having numerous jokes prepared, I can't say any of them to my wife due to all the emotion.
In the tenth month, colic and fever arrive as her first teeth start to come in. It's terrible because we feel awful, completely helpless, unable to do anything to relieve our daughter's discomfort. Watching Maguna suffer is heartbreaking, and all we can do is stay by her side, trying to comfort her in every way possible. By the tenth month, she takes her first steps, heading directly towards Pepper. The fact that this happened right during Thanksgiving dinner makes the holiday even more meaningful. During this phase, Morgan also starts to show jealousy. She hates any display of affection between me and her mother, which always makes us laugh. It's funny how she tries to insert herself between us, wanting to be the center of attention. By the eleventh month, she already looks like a mini adult. She goes through a terrible independence phase, exploring her surroundings and rejecting our embraces. Her vocabulary expands rapidly, and we need to be careful about what we say in front of her because Morgan loves to repeat everything she hears. It's fascinating to see how she learns and develops so quickly. And then, in the blink of an eye, her first year arrives. Obviously, we can't let the occasion pass unnoticed, so we organize a small party at our home and invite our closest friends to celebrate.
To be honest, it's hard to capture everything we've felt during these months. To be here in this moment also means acknowledging everything that's been left behind, everything we've lost. We've worked hard in therapy sessions to understand that there's no point in fleeing reality or trying to change what we cannot. It's not fair to feel guilty for being happy and having the opportunity to live and experience all these moments. Of course, we mourn the losses and sympathize with them. We ourselves have lost friends and people we cared about. But what's the point of continuing to lament day after day when nothing can be done? It's difficult, but the pain eases when we focus on the present. In the development of our daughter, when we share unique moments with her, like walks around the lake at dusk and she marvels at a butterfly or the colors painting the sky during sunset. It's the wet kisses she gives us on our faces or the hugs she gives while laughing that show we do have the right to be happy.
So, we adapt. Day by day, we dedicate ourselves not only to Morgan but also to ourselves and our relationship. The latter is doing very well. We're tired of hearing jokes about how romance cools after marriage. By now, we should know that the ordinary does not apply to us. It's not hard to keep the flame alive, always finding a little time in our busy routines to just be us. And the hustle of our professional lives remains, of course, much less demanding but still present. Pep continues as president of Stark Industries, and I take on a position as a mechanical engineering professor at the city university. My hours are few, her travel is flexible, and when needed, I take on her trips and the presidency as well. Life may have changed in ways I never imagined, but at the end of each day, I know I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
As for Morgan, her existence remains a secret. The primary reason we chose to move to New Haven was to ensure her privacy. And we are succeeding. Initially, I doubted it would be possible, after all, such information could be quite valuable to informants. But I'm beginning to understand what Pepper meant about everyone being one big community. They are always helping each other and committed to collective well-being, which in this case also means keeping certain secrets. Even as the years pass and our daughter interacts with more people, like at school, everything remains the same. At the beginning of this new phase, I worried that someone might discover and disclose the information. I imagined reporters lurking, people taking pictures, rumors spreading. But the truth is that New Haven has proven to be a true refuge. Maguna goes to school and makes friends like any other child her age. She plays in the park, participates in extracurricular activities, and is treated normally, which is everything we've always wanted for her. At the same time, Pepper and I can walk around the city without the constant worry of being followed or watched. But, of course, even with this tranquility, I didn't give up the undercover security for either of them, after all, safety is never too much.
And as for Morgan going to school, she loves it. The night before her first day, Pepper and I barely slept from worry. We cleared our entire schedule for the day, thinking we might need to go through an adjustment period. We talked to her a lot, explained how it would be, and even taught her how to contact us if needed, but none of that was necessary. As soon as we arrived at the school, we took her to her classroom, and when it was time to say goodbye, we expected tears and drama, but all we got was a "bye, daddy, bye, mommy" and a wave. Just like that, as if it were nothing. As if it weren't her first day of school. My wife and I looked at each other, a mix of pride and anticipatory nostalgia enveloping us. Seeing our daughter adjusting so well and showing such independence so early filled us with pride, but at the same time, there was a pang of sadness at how quickly she was growing up. It didn't seem possible that the tiny baby we held in our arms was now ready to face the world, even if it was the small and safe world of a classroom. But Morgan was, and we knew it was time to let her grow. If there was one thing we couldn't deny, it was how much she was a Potts-Stark.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Pepper complains as if I were committing a crime. "What do you think you're doing?", she gives me that classic "look" I thought would be reserved only for our daughter.
"What? This?" I play innocent, continuing to cut the carrots on the cutting board. "I'm just helping you."
"No, not at all! Stop it.", she rushes to take the knife from my hand.
"What? It's just a carrot, I can handle it. You know I'm great with manual tasks." I smile.
"Not with these manual tasks." Pepper retorts, clearly understanding the double meaning of my words. "Babe, it's past 6 PM, and if you ruin our dinner, we'll have to order pizza, and it's Wednesday! Morgan isn't going to be raised like that, we've eaten out three times this week."
"Our daughter isn't going to die if she misses vegetables once in a while, you know?" I tease, but if there's one thing I agree we should take seriously, it's her health. It's not about turning Morgan into one of those annoying health-obsessed kids, but about teaching her a healthy relationship with food. And believe it or not, she seems to actually get it because, although she still eats sugar and skips meals like any other normal kid, sometimes she really does prefer eating broccoli over dessert. She's a mini Pepper in that regard.
"So you're confessing that you're doing it on purpose?", the redhead raises an eyebrow. "Coming here under the pretense of helping just to ruin the food and make us order a cheeseburger?"
"That's ridiculous, you know? If we went to court, you wouldn't have any evidence."
"I know you, Anthony!"
"How am I supposed to get better if you never let me help?" I ask, trying to sound convincing.
"Because even Morgs is better at it than you. Babe, you've set fire to two dish towels, a pan, seasoned our chicken with sugar instead of salt, mistook asparagus for okra, and picked artichokes out of season."
"When you put it like that, it does sound like a lot."
"We're talking about one week. Don't make me list all the culinary disasters over the years."
"You could at least let me chop things."
"I don't know, I'm afraid I'll tell you to cut into cubes and you'll slice." She laughs, and I pretend to be offended. "At least you're good at other manual tasks, or at least you say you are." She comments with a cheeky grin and a bite of her lips that always gives her away.
"You shouldn't tease, Mrs. Stark." I move closer to her, pulling her by the waist and kissing her neck. "You know I love challenges, especially when I can prove my point."
"But we don't have time for that." I feel her shiver. "Maybe later, when your shadow is asleep." She gives me a peck and pulls away. "Now go call her for a bath while I finish up here."
"I hate it when you tease and then walk away. You're a real demon." I take a deep breath. "But fine, I'll see if I can get this idea of having a dog out of her head." Yes, that's the new obsession of the little one. She won't stop talking about it and seems to not understand how allergic I am.
"Just four years old and already trying to kill you." Pepper laughs, because it's fine for Morgan that her mom can't eat strawberries, that makes sense in her little head, but my allergy is completely ignored.
"At least she's trying to do it with four-legged friends, not the ones she knows at school."
"She's young for that, let's have that conversation again when she's 16." Pepper comments in the most blunt way possible.
"Hey, hey, hey! Enough of that!" I interrupt her. "All my stuff is already in your name, you don't need to give me a heart attack to get the inheritance."
"I just meant that she'll grow up, and one day the monsters under the bed will actually be…"
"I get it." I speak over her, because finishing that sentence would lead to our divorce.
I leave the kitchen and head outside. It's summer, so Morgan has been playing in her little tent until late. I don't even need to get too close to hear her little squeals as she enacts dialogues and battles. If Pepper hates inflating my ego, our daughter is the complete opposite. She loves spending hours with me in the workshop; it's been that way since she was a baby. And apparently, me being Iron Man is pretty cool because, since she saw some of my old suits, she decided she wanted one for herself too. Of course, this drove my wife crazy, so we came to a compromise. I made helmets that double as masks, something very childlike so she could play, and they quickly became her favorite toys.
"Daddy, are you going to stay with me?" Maguna asks as soon as she sees me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She's wearing one of the helmets, trying to mimic my voice in a deep, funny tone.
"Of course, my little rescue!" I reply, stepping into the tent. It's a small space, but I find it fascinating how she's managed to turn it into her own world of adventures.
Morgan hands me an old helmet of mine, completely deactivated, and starts to tell me about the new mission she's invented.
"We need to save the city from the giant robots, Daddy!" she exclaims, making dramatic gestures with her hands, a maternal inheritance from her Italian descent.
"Let's do it!" I say, adjusting the helmet on my head.
As we continue with the game, I can't help but think about how precious these moments are. Every laugh, every invented story, every time she looks at me with admiration. It's in these moments that I realize how our decision to keep her existence a secret was the right choice. Here, in New Haven, she can be a child like any other, safe and happy.
After a few "battles" against imaginary robots, I notice the sun is setting, and we'll be in trouble if we don't stop here.
"Sweetie, it's time for a bath," I announce, removing the helmet.
"Oh, Daddy! Five more minutes?" she asks, with that look I know will be hard to resist when she grows a bit older.
"We've had plenty of adventures for today, princess. And Mommy will be finishing dinner soon."
She sighs but agrees. We tidy up some of the toys scattered around and leave the tent with her in my arms. I'm climbing the first steps of the porch when the sound of car wheels on gravel catches my attention. It takes seconds for the black Audi to park and Natasha to get out of the car, accompanied by Steve and Scott. Nat's presence isn't a surprise, as our relationship has strengthened over time. But the fact that the other two are here as well, with very serious expressions, indicates that something is going on.
As soon as she sees her godmother, as always, Morgan runs to her. Nat picks her up and spins her around twice in the air, filling her cheeks with kisses and making her laugh. They chat for a bit, with Natasha commenting on how much she's grown and how she seems much older now. Then Maguna greets Steve and Scott, a bit shy since she doesn't see them often, and comes back to me.
"Tony, can we talk?" our friend asks.
"It's important," Rogers adds.
I nod because I know they wouldn't come all the way here if it weren't. I gesture for them to come inside the porch, and while they approach, I tell my daughter to go be with her mother, who already knows we have visitors. Morgan understands that when it's "adult conversation" time, she should stay out of the way, so she waves goodbye to her godmother and runs inside the house.
"So, what's this about?" I cut to the chase, and they do too, as Scott immediately starts explaining how he's spent the last few years stuck in the quantum realm and his theory on time travel.
"Look, we know how this sounds…" Natasha begins.
"Tony, after everything you've seen, do you really think it's impossible?" Steve asks.
"Quantum fluctuation destroys the Planck layer, triggering the Deutsch Proposition. In layman's terms: there's no way back," I respond.
"I came back!" Lang insists.
"No." I'm firm. "You accidentally survived. It's a cosmic fluke of 1 in a billion. And now you want to pull off a… what's it called again?" I ask, with a touch of sarcasm.
"A time heist," he says sheepishly.
"Right, a time heist." I repeat, making it clear how ridiculous the idea is. "Why didn't I think of that before? Oh, right. Because it's an impossible dream."
"The stones are in the past; we could go back and get them," Steve suggests, as if I haven't considered that countless times.
"We could snap our fingers and bring everyone back," Natasha continues.
"Or make things worse," I comment.
"I don't think so," Rogers says.
"You know, I have to say, sometimes I actually miss your optimism. But hope doesn't help if there isn't a tangible, logical, and safe way to do it," I take a deep breath, sitting down in front of them. "The most likely outcome is our collective death."
"Not if we follow the rules of time travel," Scott seems to take this conversation seriously. "You know, not talking to our past selves, not interfering with the timeline…"
"Are you really telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on ' Back to the Future'?" I must be talking to a teenager.
"No." He rolls his eyes, but it doesn't inspire confidence.
"Good, you were making me worried. I thought you were an idiot." I give him a couple of pats on the shoulder. "That's not how quantum physics works."
"Tony, we have to do something," Nat says. "You don't have to come with us; we know you have a lot to lose, and we're not asking you to."
"What we're saying is that there's a new chance. We have new information, and if there's anyone who can figure out if it's truly possible, it's you," Steve adds.
"Look, they might not beg, but I will. I lost someone very important to me, and if there's a chance to bring her back, I need to try. I need you to help us!" Scott pleads. "Think if it were the other way around, if it were your wife."
I feel the weight of his words and look at Pepper, standing in the kitchen doorway, playing with Morgan, who's laughing in her unique way.
"I need time to think. If this is really possible, I'll need to study all the details, do all the calculations. I can't give an answer right now."
"Alright, we understand," Natasha says.
"We have six places at the table, so if you promise not to talk about work, you can stay with us," I finally get up, knowing I have a tough decision ahead, but for now, my focus is on enjoying the family moment.
They decide they can't stay, citing other urgent responsibilities. As they say their goodbyes, I notice the concern in my wife's eyes, but she doesn't ask directly about the conversation. She suspects the topic but respects my space. Later, after Morgan falls asleep, Pep and I have the meeting we had planned, but when she also goes to sleep, I lie next to her, thinking about Scott and Steve's words. Eventually, I can't ignore the feeling that I have an obligation. If I can actually do something, I need to be sure. I quietly get up and head to the workshop. Surrounded by my tools and technology, I start working, trying to understand all the implications and possibilities of time travel.
This is the return of Iron Man.