Archive of Our Own ^beta

Morgan listened as the doctor continued to ramble on, nodding. She hears a pause in the conversation, eyes glancing up to the doctor’s eyes.

The expression on their face is warm, a smile that’s meant to be comforting. Morgan tries to smile in return, though it ends up feeling more of a grimace.

“If this isn’t a good time, I can---” Morgan shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s fine.” She sighs, glancing over to her father’s hospital bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“There’ll never be a good time.” 

Morgan had always wanted siblings. 

It was something she’d whined about when she was young, a constant question and plea to either of them who would listen. Both of them would dismiss it, remind her that she was the light of their lives - her mom usually remarking that Morgan was more than enough to handle - but Morgan had been insistent. 

It didn’t seem to fair, growing up without someone - growing up alone. 

But then she’d see the look on her dad’s face anytime she brought it up, the sadness in her mom’s eyes as Morgan would be sent off to go play. It was a look she’d recognize over and over again as she got older, only making the connection once she started to reach her preteen years. 

Morgan grew up learning about Peter, the place he’d had in her dad’s life, the importance of who he’d been from Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey. It wasn’t until Morgan was older - much older - that she realized how much her questions hurt her father. 

Morgan wished now she had someone with her, to face what was to come.

But Morgan didn’t have any siblings - and she never would. 

“Morguna?”

“Hey dad.” Morgan takes his hand, a sad smile on her face as she watches him wake up. The time he spent awake was getting less and less common, something Morgan dreaded to think of even if she knew she didn’t have the time to face it. 

“How are you feeling?” Tony doesn’t answer, eyes fluttering before closing again - falling asleep just as quickly as he woke up. 

It’s an ache that feels deeper and deeper every day, the loss of it growing every time she sat beside him.

Morgan Stark had encountered a lot of loss in her life. Yet of all the people who’d left, Morgan thinks she missed her mom the most.

It had been sudden, an aneurysm that had taken her in her sleep. It’d been over five years now but Morgan still remembered the phone call from her dad, the shock of it still overwhelming her all these years later. 

Pepper had been formidable, Morgan had looked up to her long before she’d even realized the full extent of the great things she had done.

A leader in business, a powerhouse in the media - yet the thing Morgan still heard about - still was thanked for, randomly in the streets as she walked past - was all of Pepper’s work during the time after the Blip. 

Morgan doesn’t remember much of it, her life before the world was made right again. It’s an odd feeling, a weird club that everyone born after the Blip shared. 

There was something about being born into darkness, the first few years of life marred by a tragedy that the mind could hardly comprehend. Morgan didn’t remember it but every inch of her life was touched by it - the Blip, the five years “gone”, the coming back.

Morgan struggled - as a lot of her peers did - about the five years everyone said were gone. What did that mean? Did her life fail to have meaning? Just a placeholder - gap, for the ones who had been left behind?

When they returned, everyone focused on the ones who had left. No one ever considered the lives of those who were always there. 

As Tony’s breathing evened out, Morgan keeping an eye on the heart monitor, an old, deep sadness over her.

Morgan was born into a world that had been left behind. And now it seemed as if that’s all that she would ever be. 

“Come on, we gotta go.”

“No.”

Morgan sighed, Tony’s petulant glare causing her to ache for the days when her father was the one who gave the orders.

“Dad, come on. It’s time for us to head back to your room.”

Tony considers her words for a few moments - as he always did - before a smile formed.

“Pepper’s waiting for me.” Morgan winced, saying nothing as she helped Tony back to his wheelchair. 

She’d gone back and forth with his doctors about what to do, the dementia that riddled his once brilliant mind causing him to forget his life. 

Sometimes she told him the truth. Mostly, Morgan just tried to distract him.

“You’ll have lunch waiting for you. I got that sandwich coming that you like, the one with the roast beef?”

Tony smiles again, nodding as he sat down. Morgan released the brakes as she pushed him forward - hoping that was enough.

She should’ve guessed that life would never be that kind to her.

“When’s Peter coming around? I haven’t seen him, is he here?”

Morgan grits her teeth, pushing forward in silence as her mind whirred. 

It’s an old insecurity, one that Morgan knows she can’t hold against him. His doctors had said as much, that the way his mind unraveled caused everything to blend and blur together - instances of a life well-loved, but marked with tragedy.

Tony Stark wouldn’t leave this world with a bang, but with a whisper - but Morgan wondered how much of it he would remember when he left. 

“Peter’s not coming today, dad. But Eli is, Nathan’s bringing him after school.”

Morgan waits, wondering if this was going to be a good day or a bad one.

On good days, Tony remembered Morgan, her husband - her son. 

Remembered that he was in the hospital, remembered why and for how long. 

Remembered that Pepper was gone - Rhodey, Happy and nearly everyone else of his old life.

Remembered what happened to Peter - though when he did, the good days never ended up feeling good for long. 

It’s bittersweet for Morgan, torn between wanting him to remember - to remember her - but knowing if he did, it was at the expense of remembering everyone else, everything he had already lost.

Tony’s next words bring her out of her thoughts as she wheels him to the room.

“Who’s Eli?”

Morgan sighs, pushing forward.

It was a bad day.

“Come down, Eli. Grandpa, needs to rest now.” Eli sighed dramatically, Morgan barely holding back the eye roll that threatened to escape. Her mother had always warned her that Morgan’s stubbornness would find its way back to her - though Nathan was the picture of serenity, Eli had inherited none of his calm. 

He was wild, fierce - chaotic almost. A perfect picture of Morgan when she had been young.

You were right, Mom.

“But I don’t want to get down. Grandpa likes having me here.” Tony smiles amiably.

“Yeah he does,” Morgan says, reaching for Eli anyway as his little arms tried to move around. 

“Leave him, he’s fine.” Tony’s voice stops her, hands outstretched as she studies her father’s face.

Tony smiles, puts up a hand to Eli’s face.

“It’s nice to have Peter around.” 

Morgan paused, seeing the confusion all over Eli’s face. 

Nathan mentioned that they should start preparing Eli and even if Morgan knew it to be true, it felt like the final step before the end.

Pepper hadn’t even known she was pregnant when she passed, another mark in the long line of regrets in Morgan’s life. 

Though seeing the love in her father’s eyes, the look of someone who was there but was seeing someone else made Morgan wondered which fate was worse. 

To never meet your grandchild? Or to forever imagine them as the child you had lost? 

“Who’s—“

“Come on, Eli. Let’s go, daddy’s waiting.” Eli must sense something in Morgan’s voice because he doesn’t argue, climbing down with her assistance.

“He doesn’t have to leave. It’s nice to have Peter here.” Tony reiterates. Morgan almost pushes Eli out the door, thankful that Nathan was right outside.

“I’ll be right out.” She closes the door behind her, facing Tony once more.

“Why did you make Peter leave?”

Morgan takes a deep breath.

“It wasn’t Peter, dad. It’s Eli, your grandson.”

You never even knew Peter as a child.

Tony’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, glancing down at his lap.

“But he… he was right here. I had him, I had him right…” Tony’s arms extend as if in a ghost of a hug, Morgan swallowing down the lump in her throat and she walks forward.

“Peter’s gone, dad remember? He died a long time ago.”

Tony shakes his head. 

“No, no, I-I brought him back.” He looks to Morgan, tears in his eyes. “I brought him back, I brought them all back.”

Morgan nods slowly, sitting beside his bed.

Her voice is soft, soothing - the same tone she took when Eli had a tantrum.

“You did, you saved everyone.” Morgan glances to his mechanical arm, Tony’s eyes following her gaze.

And as it did every time, the light bulb went off - and the anguish returned.

“He’s dead.” 

“Yeah, yeah he is. I’m sorry, dad.”

“I couldn’t save him.” Morgan looks down, closing her eyes.

“It was an accident.”

“I should’ve, oh God I should’ve stopped him. He shouldn’t have, I should’ve done something, anything - I told Pep—“ his voice cuts off, Morgan wincing.

“Oh God, Pep.”

Morgan opens her eyes, reaching her hand out to Tony’s.

“I’m here, dad. I’m here.”

She listens to his cries, her heart breaking again and again as his shoulders shook. Morgan had done this countless times, yet it never got any easier.

Morgan just waits, listens and holds his hand as she whispers softly to him - trying to comfort the man who had done the same for her for decades. 

Skinned knees, broken bones, bad breakups - Tony had always been there. Present, aware, the best father she could have ever imagined.

Yet there was always a darkness in his eyes, a deep well of grief that never went away. It’s that same grief that she sees mirrored back to her when Tony’s meets her eyes, tears still streaming down his face.

He looks at her - puts a hand out to her cheek.

“Morguna?”

“Yeah,” Morgan smiles, bringing her other hand to cover his. “It’s me.”

Tony smiles, lip trembling. “You’re so grown up.”

“Sometimes.” Morgan laughs, blinking back her own tears.

Tony stares at her face for a moment, his eyes dancing around it as if he was sinking her in. And then his gaze shifts, looks around the room as if searching for someone.

Though he’s done this countless times, though Morgan should be used to it - well acquainted with the agony of what it was like to live in the shadow of the dead - his next words don’t hurt any less.

“Where’s Peter?”

Morgan’s earliest memories all revolved around Peter.

Her youngest bedtime stories had been about the amazing Spider-Man, a hero who had been part spider but really hadn’t been a man - a boy that Morgan knew her father missed terribly even if she couldn’t quite grasp how or why. 

Morgan doesn’t remember the fight that took her father’s arm, only vague flashes and glimpses of the long hospital stay afterwards - adjusting to Tony’s new arm.

But she remembers meeting Peter - looking the same as he had in all the pictures Tony had ever shown her.

Morgan remembers him kneeling down to her level, the first time he came to the cabin - not long after Tony’s release.

“Hey, I’m Peter.”

“Hi.” 

It had been a simple exchange, but seeing the look on her father’s face as the two of them interacted made Morgan’s heart swell.

She loved her dad. He loved her.

But he also loved Peter - and Morgan would love anyone that Tony loved.

Morgan didn’t remember much about that summer - the first and only summer that she had known Peter, when he had been alive. 

All she had were glimpses, faint feelings and memories that even now - even still - she clung to.

It was a feeling of warmth, of love and acceptance - the last time in her life that Morgan truly believed her father had been completely happy. 

Morgan may not remember the fight that took her father’s arm, remember the best summer of her father’s life, or even remember much of her time with Peter.

But she’ll never forget the night that Peter died.

Morgan woke up with a start, the sound of a gut-wrenching sobs in the other room. 

It was so unlike anything she had ever heard, like an animal dying - something she’d only heard once before in a walk with her father in the woods.

He’d told her then that death was a part of life, natural - but something she should never fear.

Yet hearing that sound again, the cries getting louder and louder as she clutched her stuffed hippo tighter made her think that her father had been wrong. 

Morgan was paralyzed for a second as the cries continued before her curiosity got the better of her, slowly climbing out of bed.

She held her hippo close to her chest, walking as quietly as she could down the hallway until she stopped - frozen at the vision of who the sounds were coming from.

Tony’s shoulders were shaking, guttural - almost inhuman sounds - coming out of his mouth as Pepper held him, crouched down on the floor. 

Morgan was terrified. 

She’d seen her parents cry before, soft tears - sad ones at the people they had lost. But this was unlike anything she had ever seen, a horrifying sound that she couldn’t make sense of.

Morgan stood there for what felt like hours before backing away slowly, rushing back to her room.

Her parents always knew when she had snuck out past her bedtime, were always vigilant and concerned. 

But that was the first night - the first of many, for years - that Morgan would go to bed alone, would have to comfort herself. 

She crawled back into bed, pulling her blanket over her head - trying and failing to drown out the sounds coming from the living room.

Morgan remembers the funeral mostly, if only for the repetition of it.

Three funerals for three lives lost - a joint memorial that they all had attended. 

It wasn’t until Morgan was older - until she was a mother herself - that she reckoned with the devastation that night had given.

But as a teenager, bold and brash and impulsive - Morgan hadn’t recognized her father’s grief for what it was.

As she still softly held his hand, seeing the look of confusion on Tony’s face, Morgan wishes more than ever that she had been kinder to him back then.

“Leave me alone.”

“Morgan, get back here.”

“You don’t understand! Why can’t I just go out with my friends? I don’t need a damn chauffeur to go the movies.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. “Morgan, I’m not asking. It’s dangerous to—“

“Dangerous to what? To what, Dad? Live? Breathe? Exist?” Morgan was fuming, sixteen-years old and full of anger and spite. 

She was tired of being controlled, tired of feeling as if she didn’t have a say in her own life. 

She loved her father and knew - deep down - that he loved her, but Morgan thought she would suffocate if she had to abide by any more of his rules.

Don’t go anywhere alone.

Don’t go out when it’s raining.

And most importantly —

Don’t drive anywhere by yourself. 

It was ridiculous, exhausting and made her feel like a child. How she was somehow safer in a car someone else was driving compared to driving her own was illogical to her, an argument that they’d had over and over again.

Pepper had been the one who finally took her to get her license, despite all of Tony’s protestations. But with the look in his eyes, Morgan wondered if she’d ever get the chance to use it.

“Morgan, we’re not arguing about this.”

“No. We’re not, I’m going out.”

“Like hell you—“ Tony stops, Morgan watching as his hands shake - composing himself. 

She hated it, hated how in control he was with her - that he never seemed to last out or scream. She wanted him to, wanted to push him as far as he could go.

Morgan had read about her famous father’s antics, heard enough stories from uncle Rhodey of the explosion of rage, fear and emotion that he’d been in his younger days.

But that wasn’t her father anymore - hadn’t been, for years. She knew the exact moment that fire in his life had been extinguished.

“You’ll either go out with Happy, or you’re not going out at all.” Tony’s voice was calm, even but firm. 

Morgan twisted her lips, fuming. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you fine, Morgan. But I’m not letting you go out there, on your own and just, just—“

“What, get behind the wheel and get myself killed? I’m not Peter, dad.”

The words are out before she can take them back, Tony looking as she’d slapped him.

Even in her defiance and frustration, Morgan knew she had fucked up.

It was visceral, painful even then - over a decade later, the loss of Peter in her father’s life. She saw how his hand trembled, a haunted look in his eyes that Morgan would stoop so low.

She knew now what she hadn’t then - of the accident, of slick roads and a drunk driver, killing Peter and his friends on what had been a simple weekend trip. 

It had been an accident, one that Tony couldn’t have been prevented. But Morgan also knew by now that it wasn’t just the accident that haunted him, wasn’t just the knowledge that even if his friends had died instantly, Peter had died alone - bleeding out on a highway with no one to call to save him. 

It was that Peter had died on a trip up to see them, a last-minute surprise with his girlfriend and best friend. 

Morgan felt the guilt immediately churning in her gut, the anger giving way to remorse.

“Dad, I—“

Tony puts a hand up, saying nothing. 

It’s the silence that hurts her, worse than if he had started yelling. He doesn’t dismiss her but Morgan senses the change in the atmosphere, the recognition that she had crossed a line. 

Peter’s death had devastated Tony - an ache and a hole in his life that had never been filled. Morgan thought she knew what life had been like without him - before the Blip, when Peter had been gone - but as she walked back to her room, quietly and head hung in shame, she knew that the second loss had been greater the first.

Peter had first died with the universe. Tony had risked everything to bring them all back. 

Peter dying a second time - permanently, and in an accident that was common and preventable — 

There was nothing Tony could have done to save him. 

Yet Morgan still knew Tony would give up almost anything to wish he had. 

“You remind me of my wife.”

Morgan pressed her lips firmly together, adjusting the blankets on Tony’s bed. She says nothing, her mind still wandering back to the angst and pain of her teenaged years. 

They never spoke about that argument, a mutual understanding between then. 

She had resented Peter for years growing up, resented growing up in the shadow of the dead - the shadow of the perfect - but even then, she knew some words should never be said.

Now, folding a blanket in her father’s room in hospice made Morgan consider that maybe this was penance. In her weakest moments, full of teenaged insecurity and angst, she had resented Peter for the sheer fact that she couldn’t be him - could never replace him.

It was a childish thought, foolish - Morgan knew her father loved her for who she was, a daughter he cherished - not the son he had twice lost. 

But she still can’t escape it, her own hands trembling as she tries to steady her voice.

“Your wife?”

“Yeah,” Tony says dreamily, “She was something special.” Tony smiles, Morgan looking back to him.

Yeah she was. I wish she was here, she’d know what to do. 

Morgan goes to busy herself again before Tony speaks out. 

“Have I ever told you about my children?” 

Morgan’s breath hitches, freezing as she looks back to him.

There’s a languid expression on his face, blank and calm - one that Morgan recognizes for what it is.

Tony is lost in his memories again, a mind too warbled by disease and time to put things straight.

A small part of her says that she shouldn’t, should distract him and redirect as she always did.

But the memories of her failure as a teenager get the better of her, her old insecurities causing her to speak up before she can change her mind.

“I’d love to hear about them.”

Tony waves a hand, beckoning her to his side and Morgan obliges. She waits as he purses his lips, looks upward.

“I had a son.”

Morgan feels the ache in the pit of her stomach, willing herself to listen. 

“Oh yeah? Tell me about him.” Tony shakes his head, eyes dancing around the ceiling.

“He was smart. Kind. Funny as hell.” Morgan could see the smile on his face as he continued.

“His name was Peter.” Tony’s smile falls, Morgan’s stomach churning into knots. 

“He died, a couple years back.”

Morgan swallows, reaching a hand out.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Tony nods, a far-away look in his eyes. 

It’s quiet between them, Morgan sensing that the brief moment of semi-clarity would be gone before he speaks again.

“My daughter, Morgan, I hope—,” Morgan pauses, holding her breath.

“I hope she knows how much I love her.” 

Morgan says nothing, suddenly feeling decades younger than what she was as Tony continues.

“We argued, last night— about the car. She’s sixteen, spit-fire. Pepper says she’s a lot like me.” Tony’s face forms a faint smile, even if Morgan see the sadness in his eyes.

“She reminds me of Peter.” 

He turns to look at her, eyes searching hers.

“I just want her to be safe.”

Morgan bites her lip, tightening the grip of her hand in his. She thinks carefully, knowing that he won’t remember her words but feeling as if she should say them all the same.

“I think she knows. They always do. Maybe not now, but… she will.”

Tony blinks at her, the smile fading as he turns away. Morgan’s has trembles as she holds his hand, fighting back tears once again.

Morgan had spent an entire life in Peter’s shadow - equal parts resentment and admiration for the boy she had never really gotten to know, yet had changed her father in innumerable ways.

Uncle Rhodey had told her of their times in the lab, Pepper telling her of the jokes and smiles she’d overheard.

But Tony himself had shown it - in all the small and little ways he had raised her, had loved her.

Morgan knew now - as an adult and as a mother - that there was no limit to a parent’s love, no barrier that could gulf a parent’s grief.

As she held her father’s hand, running a thumb across it as he used to do for her when she was sick, Morgan could only hope that somehow - he could understand that she finally did. 

“Another one!”

“That’s three stories, squirt. Come on, sleepy time.”

“Please! Just one more!” Morgan signed, smiling as she pushed the hair back from Eli’s face. 

“Alright, just one more. You pick.” Morgan laughs as Eli’s little legs bound out of the bed, scrambling for another book on the shelf. 

It takes him less than three seconds to choose one, bounding up to his bed and shoving it in her face.

Morgan’s heart stops for a second as she reads the title.

The Amazing Spider-Man

Morgan holds the book in her hand, Eli looking up to her expectantly. She’d bought it ages ago, as she did anything related to Peter or her father, but this was the first time Eli had ever picked it up.

She looked back to him, seeing the wide and innocent look on his face and recognized it for what it was.

Eli had no concept of the day she had, the emotions and issues she struggled with as she cared for her father. 

But it was as if the universe was sending her a message, an acknowledgement in the smallest of ways.

Morgan couldn’t change the past - but she had the opportunity to change the future.

She put the book down, Eli looking confused.

“I thought you said I could have one more.”

Morgan nods, bringing him closer to her. “You can, one more story but, can I tell you a secret?”

Eli’s eyes widen, nodding his head.

“I knew the real Spider-Man.” 

Eli’s mouth dropped open in shock, Morgan’s insides warming at the sight.

“You did ?

“Yeah, so did grandpa. A long, long time ago.”

Eli’s eyes were transfixed, mouth turning into a wide smile. 

Morgan looks down to her son, pushing back some of his hair once again as she smiled back.

“His name was Peter, and he was one of the greatest people your grandpa knew.” 

As Morgan continued, watching with joy her son’s eyes widened with glee - she sent a thank you out to the universe.

Morgan had lived in Peter’s shadow her whole life, born into a world that had been left behind.

But holding her son tight as she told the story of the brother she had lost - Morgan understood that even if everyone else was either going or gone - she was still here.

Tony couldn’t save Peter. Morgan couldn’t save her father.

But she could remember them. 

And Morgan promised herself she would.