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Anything For You

Summary:

Rhodey nods. “He raised her,” he pauses, a wash of emotion flashing over his face before he swallows. “Happy and I helped. They lived in the Tower. You, ah, you left the company- well, Pepper left the company to Tony and Tony left the company to Peter. So, he, well, he ran it.”

“Kid’s a nut job,” Happy scoffed before sticking his fingers to his eyes, rubbing tears away or just hiding them, Tony doesn’t know.

He’s not bothering to hide his own.

“He finished high school that first year, when I had custody, and went to college in New York and- god, Tony, I know he’s not your blood, but- but fuck. I’d- I’d come up to check on him and he’s running ten holo screens at once at two in the morning with textbooks and parts littered all over the place and Morgan’s just a toddler, fast asleep on his chest— one arm rubbing her back and the other directing Friday. It was- he’s a miracle of a person.”

Or

Tony and Pepper are both blipped, leaving their newborn daughter behind. When they return, they learn what happened in their absence.

Notes:

Tbh I wish this was longer but I’m self aware enough to know my ADHD won’t survive beyond a one shot at this point.

Still, I’m fascinated with this idea and I hope I write more of it later on.

P.S. I wrote this to the song ‘please hold me’ by Julia Alexa on repeat— in case anyone’s into mood music or just wants to add it to their angst playlist. It’s a fantastically sad song.

Work Text:

The monotonous beeping of the heart monitor feels like the single tether holding Tony to the world again, even as the door to the single room opens and familiar footsteps approach his plastic chair at the bedside. 

“You should be proud,” Rhodey says, voice unusually soft. A hand falls on Tony’s shoulder. “The kid stepped up— filled your shoes man. It was incredible. He’s incredible.”

Tony watches the rise and fall of Peter’s chest. Counts the heartbeats. 

“He’s the one who figured it out,” Rhodey continues. “Took him a few years, but he’s the reason we could bring you back. There’s… there’s a lot more, but I think he should tell you himself.” 

He pats Tony’s shoulder before backing away. Tony adjusts in his seat, his stitches from the final battle pulling at his side. He lets Rhodey leave and settles in to wait. 

Hours later, he’s finally seen Pepper outside her suit and been delivered food that he barely touches at least twice. His wife is unusually quiet and stationary. There’s no tablet in her hands, no phone buzzing in her lap. 

No bump in her belly. 

They haven’t talked about it. They really need to, he knows. She’d been eight months along when he boarded the spaceship, then they were both dusted, and now they’re back and there’s no belly. 

Tony’s kept everyone out of the room— everyone but Rhodey who seems to sense the gravity of emotions growing thicker and thicker and hasn’t given either of them much of a debrief. 

He knows that he and Pepper were snapped, and Peter was not. He knows that Peter used the gauntlet to get rid of Thanos and now he’s unconscious. 

He knows that Pepper was pregnant and now she’s not. He knows that she’s not okay because she’s not working, not organizing, not delegating anything or ordering anyone around. 

She’s just sitting in a hospital chair at his side, her head pillowed on Peter’s bed. 

Somehow, the thought is enough to propel him into movement. His hand drifts from Peter’s to her hair, tucking wisps of strawberry blond behind her ear. She blinks red rimmed eyes up at him and he chokes down emotions. 

Then a knock interrupts the moment. 

Rhodey doesn’t knock and the doctors would already be turning the knob and stepping inside. 

There’s a long pause before Happy enters the room slowly, Rhodey, surprisingly, right behind him. 

“I wanted to wait longer,” Rhodey starts, carefully shutting the door behind him, “but I think it might be time. I- I think this might help all of you.”

He glances at Happy, who looks abnormally flustered, but Tony can understand and doesn’t particularly care at the moment despite his care for his friends. 

Rhodey clears his throat, shifting on his feet, braces whirring softly. “Pepper, as you know, Morgan was born during the- during the snap.”

Fresh tears drop to Peter’s sheets and Tony watches his wife swipe at her cheeks, nodding. She turns to Tony. 

“C-section,” she whispers. 

He clenches his jaw, ignores the stab of fear, of pain at missing it. 

“She stayed in the hospital for another two weeks. I had legal custody of her for about a year and a half— until her… until her brother was old enough to adopt her.”

“Pete.”

He hardly recognizes his own voice. He hadn’t spoken since Peter fell unconscious, gauntlet still glowing, sucking the life out of him. 

Rhodey nods. “He raised her,” he pauses, a wash of emotion flashing over his face before he swallows. “Happy and I helped. They lived in the Tower. You, ah, you left the company- well, Pepper left the company to Tony and Tony left the company to Peter. So, he, well, he ran it.”

“Kid’s a nut job,” Happy scoffed before sticking his fingers to his eyes, rubbing tears away or just hiding them, Tony doesn’t know. 

He’s not bothering to hide his own. 

“He finished high school that first year, when I had custody, and went to college in New York and- god, Tony, I know he’s not your blood, but- but fuck. I’d- I’d come up to check on him and he’s running ten holo screens at once at two in the morning with textbooks and parts littered all over the place and Morgan’s just a toddler, fast asleep on his chest— one arm rubbing her back and the other directing Friday. It was- he’s a miracle of a person.”

Pepper’s hand finds his knee, but he can’t help reaching out for Peter. His heartbeat continues, bold and strong, reverberating through the white room. 

There’s a long sniff and Rhodey clears his throat again. “She’s been asking to see him and we want to let her. He’s healing well— could wake up anytime. They- they’re so close, Tony. I think it would be good for them both.”

Tony takes a deep breath, staring at Peter’s long eyelashes like he could blink them awake at any moment. 

“And you guys could meet her.”

Tearing his attention away, Tony looks at Pepper— Pepper, who’s openly crying, leaning on his shoulder. She looks up at him, fear and pleading painted on her face. He nods. 

He wants to see his little girl. 

His daughter he’s never met, his daughter that his long lost son adopted and raised and no matter how much that burns deep in his chest, he’s glad. He’s glad she’s had an example as good as Peter’s all this time. 

Even if it hurts to glimpse the weight he left on his son’s shoulders. 

Rhodey nods back, turning to Happy who retreats from the room, only to return seconds later with a shy little girl with hair like Pepper’s, the color of Tony’s, eyes like Pepper’s, the color of his. 

She peeks around Happy’s leg, her eyes sparking with recognition when she sees them—because of course Pete would make sure she knew them—but then she spots Peter and bursts into a sob, running for the bed. 

“Bubba!”

Happy catches her at the edge, lifting her up with a hushed warning to be careful. She crawls slowly over to tuck herself into Peter’s good side, resting her face comfortably on his chest. 

“She hasn’t called him that in a while,” Rhodey says quietly while Tony and Pepper catalog their daughter’s every movement. “She grew out of it a year or two ago.”

They sit all together in silence for so long that Morgan falls asleep and Tony loses track of time, entangled between chairs with Pepper. 

They won. 

They won the battle and yet— 

Peter was only sixteen. Now he’s twenty one. Tony had never told him, never told him how much he meant to him. 

And yet Peter picked up his mantle anyway. Peter became a father and a big brother and a fucking world leader, Fortune 500 CEO, actual time traveler, and savior of the universe. 

He looked so small in Tony’s memories, and he’s even smaller today, the weight of the world asleep on his chest offering up tiny, trusting breaths in her sleep that brush his hair that’s longer than Tony’s ever seen it from his neck. 

They won. 

They won and he’s so grateful, so goddamned proud it’s bursting from his chest and yet—

“Mr. Stark?”

He blinks the tears away, sits up straight. 

“Pete,” he breathes. 

Peter grins at him, weak and yet so strong. 

“You’re really here.”

Tony rises from the chair, jostling Pepper, but coming closer anyway. He runs a hand through brown curls, glancing briefly to Morgan and back. 

“Thanks to you, I hear,” he chokes out. 

This time Peter smiles— smiles something vivid and deep and heartbreakingly perfect. 

“Missed you.”

He dips his face down low, pressing his forehead to Peter’s and sucking in a haggard breath. 

They won, he tells himself. Peter won. 

“Missed you too, kiddo.”

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