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#it was a coping writing sesh but i dont even want to keep giving endgame the time of day
camelot-queen · 5 years
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At every occasion, I’ll be ready for the funeral
A post-Endgame fic
After the funeral, Peter is introduced to Morgan.
Pepper walks her up to him, she’s holding her hand and the little girl shyly approaches him. She looks like she’s trying to hide behind her mother but Pepper keeps a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Morgan, this is Peter,” she says sweetly. “Can you say hi?”
“Hi Peter,” Morgan says, swaying slightly.
Despite everything, Peter smiles. He’s been told that five years have passed, even though it doesn’t feel like it for him. But he’s glad Tony got a chance at a happy ending before it all came crashing down.
Was it worth it?
“Hi Morgan,” Peter crouches down to her level. “It’s nice to meet you.”
And it really is. Mr. Stark’s kid… he had a kid. He got married. Peter’s happy, he really is. But it stings that he missed it all, while he was… he was…
“Daddy told me about you,” Morgan says, unprompted. Peter blinks in surprise.
“Uhhh… he did?”
Morgan nods. “Mmhm, he told me stories about you. Can you really hang from the ceiling?”
“I, uhhhh…” he looks up to Pepper for help, but she just smiles and nods. “Uh, yeah, I can.”
Morgan beams. “Can you teach me how to do that?”
He laughs. Pepper laughs. It’s the first time he’s felt any semblance of joy since…
“Sorry, Morg, I don’t think that’s something that can be taught,” Pepper breaks it to her. “Peter is just lucky.”
But is he lucky? He doesn’t feel lucky.
Morgan pouts, and he keeps smiling but it feels more forced.
He feels a little like a spectator, like he’s not allowed to be here. All these people spent the past five years with Tony. They know what he’s been through. They were there for his wedding, for the birth of his daughter. Peter feels like an old acquaintance who has never been there for him and has the gall to show up to his private funeral and call himself a friend.
Everyone keeps telling him he belongs here. They tell him how much he meant to Tony, how much he missed him. Pepper tells him that he’s the reason Tony kept fighting. It doesn’t make him feel better though, it only makes a pit form in his stomach.
Do they blame him?
He’s surprised when he sees a boy around his age at the funeral. He doesn’t recognize him—he’s tall, blonde, and no one else seems to be surprised to see him there. He generally keeps his distance, not too interested in socializing, until Pepper grabs him by the hand and pulls him over.
“Peter, I’d like you to meet Harley,” she says, dragging him closer. “Tony met him a long time ago and he always made sure to check in on him from time to time. I’m sure he would have loved you two to meet.”
Peter can’t quite contain the shock on his face. There was another kid he was mentoring? Or, no… just keeping in touch with. How had they met exactly? Why did Tony never tell him? Peter tries not to let the jealousy brew. It doesn’t matter now.
“Hey,” Harley says cooly, hands in his pockets and slouched, looking out-of-place in a suit.
“Um, hi,” Peter responds, his awkwardness a contrast to Harley’s confidence. “I-I’m Peter. Or… Pepper already told you that…”
Harley smiles, a small smile that Peter can’t read. “So you’re the guy that Tony kept telling me about? The kid genius?”
“Oh, I’m not…” Peter stutters over his words.
“I vanished too,” Harley continues, ignoring Peter’s bumbling. “I come back, and suddenly it’s five years later. My little sister is older than me now… so that’s weird. And Iron Man is dead.”
Peter winces at the bluntness of his words.
“The world has gone to shit,” Harley goes on. “I thought aliens in New York was weird, but this is… a new level. My mom and sister keep crying over me, but last thing I remember is yelling at my sister for going through my stuff. And then I was asked to come to Iron Man’s funeral… I always wanted to meet the rest of the Avengers, but not really like this.”
Peter lowers his eyes. He understands Harley to some extent, he missed the last five years too. But the one person who was around to mourn him is dead. Both his aunt and his best friend were also dusted, and they’re all he has left…
“How did you meet Tony?” Harley asks, and Peter’s head whips up. It’s an innocent question, but a complex lie.
“I, uh, uh…” Peter stumbles, much like he has this whole conversation. “The September Foundation. I applied. He hired me. I’m… I was… an intern.”
Harley narrows his eyes. “Tony worked directly with interns?”
“Special project,” Peter squeaks, trying to remember what he was told to regurgitate when people asked.
“That reminds me,” Pepper pipes up, saving Peter from further questioning. “I have something for you.”
She runs back into the house, leaving Peter and Harley alone for a minute. When she comes back, she’s holding a frame.
“I think he would want you to have this,” she explains, handing it over to him.
Peter takes it questioningly, but when he looks at it, his eyes burn. It’s one of the photos they took when Tony swore up and down that Peter deserved some recognition, despite not really doing much in his “internship” rather than messing around with his web shooters. They had taken a normal photo, which they sent to the papers, and then a “silly” one at Tony’s request. He had no idea Tony had framed it.
Without even realizing it, Peter starts crying. Tears plop onto the glass of the frame and his vision blurs.
“Oh, sweetie,” Pepper rubs his shoulder. “He cared about you so much. He never stopped thinking about you.”
He knows it’s supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. His face burns from crying in from of Pepper and a complete stranger, so he tries to excuse himself. They seem hesitant to let him go, but when Pepper tries to pull him into a hug he flinches away. She backs off and he feels bad, but not bad enough to stay. He retreats and finds himself in the back of the house, where no one else is, and crouches on the ground, curling around the picture. There, he lets himself release the pent up sobs he had been trying to stifle.
It’s already been three days since the battle, and the numbing pain hasn’t subsided at all. It’s only gotten worse, the more it’s sunk in. Tony Stark is dead and he’s not coming back. The world went on for five years without him, and now he’s back and it’s in chaos. He died in Tony’s arms, then he watched Tony die. There are so many things he can’t reconcile with right now, and he’s not sure he ever will.
“You alright, kid?”
Peter jumps so fast that he almost falls over. But he catches himself last minute and stares wide-eyed at his unknown company. Happy is standing there, looking awkward.
“Well, I guess you’re not alright, that’s a dumb question,” he says after a while when Peter doesn’t respond.
“What are you doing here?” Peter says in a rush, embarrassed that he was caught crying.
“Well, I was about to make Morgan a cheeseburger,” Happy explains, looking more and more awkward by the second. “And I figured I should ask you if you wanted one too. But I couldn’t find you, so I was wandering around the house and then I heard crying…”
“Oh,” Peter kind of wishes he could be anywhere but here right now.
“Yeah,” Happy agrees. “But now I feel like you probably don’t want a cheeseburger, and it probably would have been better if I just left you alone.”
“No,” Peter wipes his face as best as he can. “A cheeseburger sounds great, actually.”
He follows Happy back into the house, trying as hard as he can to make it look like he wasn’t just crying his eyes out in the back of the house a moment ago. However, as soon as he enters the kitchen, May is right there and embracing him in a hug.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” she says soothingly, rubbing his back.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles, even though he’s clearly not.
Morgan sits at the table, kicking her feet, and Happy grills some burgers. Peter goes to sit at the table with Morgan and May goes to talk to Happy.
Peter looks out the window. People are still offering Pepper their condolences. He wants to offer his own, but he’s scared. He looks around. Everywhere in the house has memories of Tony. Pictures of the family he created while Peter was gone, forgotten wrenches and pieces of machinery laying around, projects he’ll never finish.
He tears his eyes away and stares down at the table. He can’t think about it. His heart aches. Suddenly, he feels a hand land on his… he looks up and Morgan is leaning across the table, smiling.
“Don’t be sad,” she says innocently. “It’s okay.”
Peter is stunned. How is this little girl more composed than he is? But then again, he thinks, she has the combined strength of Tony and Pepper… of course she’s doing better. Peter hasn’t even seen Pepper cry since that first time.
“I’m okay,” Peter says automatically, not wanting to be comforted by a child. “How are you feeling?”
“I miss daddy,” Morgan responds, and her lip trembles. “Mama said he saved the universe and now he’s not here anymore. That’s why there’s more people now.”
That’s right. Peter realizes that Morgan was born into a half populated world. She wasn’t even alive during the snap, the aftermath was all she’s ever known.
“Your dad is the best superhero ever,” Peter’s voice cracks. “Just… the best.”
“That’s what he used to say about you.”
That’s all it takes. The dam bursts and Peter is crying again. He laughs at the same time, both overjoyed and devastated. His emotions well and slosh into each other, combining until he doesn’t know how he feels. Morgan looks taken aback.
“No, don’t cry,” she pets his head gently, which just makes him laugh-cry more. “I’m sorry.”
May and Happy are interrupted from their conversation, which seemed to involve a lot of giggling, when Peter embarrassingly lets out some whimpering sounds.
“Sweetie,” May comes over to pull him out of his chair. “Do you want to go to the bathroom for a minute?”
She doesn’t wait for him to respond, just walks him straight down the hall and into the bathroom. She closes the door and locks it. Peter is standing in the middle of the alarmingly large room awkwardly blubbering. May gives him a pitying face and then bunches up some toilet paper.
“Shh,” she soothes, blotting his eyes uselessly, as more tears just well up.
Peter clenches and unclenches his fists over and over again. He’s reminded of when Ben died and he was throwing up in the bathroom, covered in blood, while May rubbed his back. She must have been in such pain too, but she made sure to comfort him first.
“I’m sorry,” he whimpers. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” May says softly. “You did nothing wrong. You’re hurt, just let it all out.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he admits brokenly. “What am I gonna do? Why does everyone leave?”
May pushes his head into the crook of her shoulder. He cries openly and she continues to make shushing noises and rock them both.
“It hurts, but you’ll get through this,” she whispers. “Not today, not tomorrow, but someday you’ll feel okay again. He’ll never be forgotten, but his memory won’t hurt so bad. And just know that he died a hero… because of him, we’re here. You’re here. I’m so grateful for that.”
Peter tightens his grip around her waist. They stay like that until they hear a knock at the door.
“Are you guys alright?” he hears Happy’s voice.
May pulls away to open the door. Happy is standing there looking sheepish.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says. “Cheeseburgers are ready.”
“Thanks, Happy,” May smiles. “We might need a second.”
“Of course,” Happy looks past her to make eye contact with Peter. “Hanging in there, kid?”
Peter knows he looks like a mess. His eyes are red, his hair has become unstyled from running his fingers through it repeatedly, his skin is blotchy. But he nods anyways.
Happy nods. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he finally says, then walks out.
May turns back to Peter. “We can leave now if you want. I think you’ve stayed long enough.”
Peter nods. “Cheeseburgers, then home.”
May smiles. “You got it.”
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