Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wake up, Pete. Rise and shine.” 

Peter groaned, noting the light behind his eyelids but refusing to acknowledge it. He turned over in bed so his back faced Tony who was no doubt standing in the middle of his slightly messy room with his hands on his hips. 

“Come on, kid. The moody teenager act only works for so long.”

“Leave me alone,” he mumbled, eyes still closed in a last-ditch attempt to go back to sleep. It was the first day of spring break and he refused to get up before nine am. Not happening. 

“No can do, I’ve gotta get to work in ten minutes and I need to make sure you and Morgan are ready to seize the day,” Tony countered and items that were probably his clothes fell on top of his bed-cocoon. 

Peter blinked, throwing back the sheets and bolting upright. “Wait, you’re going to work? But Peppers away.” 

Tony smiled, but not the usual fond one that greeted him, it was more of the cunning kind, like he had a plan that was finally coming to fruition. It put Peter on edge. 

“You’re perfectly capable of looking after your sister aren’t you?” 

“And do what? I can’t- I don’t know what to do all day.” 

“Take her to the park to see the ducks or something, you can drive now, Pete. World's your oyster.”

“Unless I want to go out as Spider-Man,” he grumbled with a small pout. 

Tony sighed, dropping onto his bed next to the teen. “We’ve talked about this. The medication you’re on to fight the infection is a blood thinner. One cut on patrol and you could bleed out. It’s not safe.” 

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, not wanting a redo of their argument. It happened three days ago when he came home from Medbay. He’d been stabbed by some sleaze on patrol, but instead of healing like these things usually did, it got infected. Tony informed him he was confiscating the suit until it was safe for him to go out again and all hell broke loose until Peter had flashbacks to the ferry incident. The rest of it he'd rather not relive, but there was lots of crying and hugging involved. He cried for May which he knew hurt Tony more than he’d ever admit.

Tony had been nothing but amazing since taking him in after escaping the soul stone. Peter had returned to a whole new world only to learn his aunt had died two years into the blip. It still hurt and he was sure it always would. One of the worst parts was he’d always dreamed of what it would be like to live with his mentor, but now it was his reality and those dreams filled him with guilt. When he signed the guardianship papers it felt like a betrayal. That was over a year ago now.  

“Pep’s only gone for a week, kiddo. You’ll be fine,” Tony insisted, squeezing his shoulder. 

Peter nodded glumly, leaning in to give Tony a better angle to ruffle his hair. 

“Come on, Morgans already had breakfast and is ready and raring to spend the day with her favourite brother.” 

“Only brother,” Peter corrected, pushing himself out of bed. He followed Tony into the kitchen only to be greeted by a very excited five-year-old. 

“Petey!” Morgan’s high-pitched voice came from behind the counter and soon enough he had a small child head-butting his leg and wrapping their arms around him. 

“Morning Morgs,” Peter said, already feeling lighter. 

“Daddy said we get to spend all day together! What do you want to do first? I want to paint and play house and find fishies!” 

On a normal day, Peter would be all for a fun-packed day with his bundle of energy sister, but weirdly the medication he was on was wiping him out. “Are you sure we can’t swap?” He muttered to Tony who was packing his bag. 

“Sorry, bud. Gotta’ go,” he said leaning over the kitchen island to press a kiss into his hair. He slid his bag onto his shoulder and kicked his shoes on. “I’ll be back around six.” 

“Six?” Peter parroted, gawking at Tony who chuckled. 

“I’m leaving, Maguna!”

“Bye Daddy!” She cried, jumping onto him for a hug goodbye. 

Tony kissed her on the forehead, beaming down at her in his arms. “Be good for Petey, okay?” 

“I will.”

He gave her one last kiss before setting her down and she immediately ran back to finding her toys. He headed for the door, turning to Peter before he opened it.“Don’t break anything whilst I’m gone and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And-“ 

“Don’t do anything you would do, yeah I know.” 

“Little grey area,” Tony finished with one last smile before disappearing out the door. 

Peter sighed, grabbing a bowl and cereal out of the cupboard. He closed the cupboard to Morgan suddenly in front of him. 

“Can I paint? Can I?” 

”Sure, just make sure you put the cover on the table first.” 

“I will!” She squealed and ran off. 

He’d almost forgotten just how excitable she could be at 8 am. For the past few days, no one had bothered him. Once he returned from medbay he holed himself up in his room, partly because he was still recovering, but mostly because Tony had taken Spider-Man away again. He was tired of Tony babying him so much when he was perfectly capable of getting back out there and helping people. He’d been so excited to spend all of the summer hanging out with friends and patrolling and now he couldn’t do the latter for over a week, longer if Tony got his wish. 

He knew that Tony must have scheduled a meeting to give him an excuse to lumber Morgan on him. She was his bad mood kryptonite and everyone knew it. One hour of playing with her and he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face for the rest of the day. It was a dirty tactic. 

“Petey, paint with me!” She called from the lounge, giggling as she failed to cover the coffee table with the protector. 

He smiled fondly, disregarding his breakfast and walking over to help. “It’s a two-man job, huh?” 

“I can do it by myself,” she insisted, but every time she tried to cover a corner of the table, the cloth would pull away from the others. 

“I know, but isn’t being part of a team more fun?” 

She nodded, allowing him to take the other end and secure it on the table. 

“So what are you going to paint first?” 

“A mermaid. And you’re going to draw a unicorn!” She slapped a blank piece of paper down in front of him.
“I am, am I?” 

“You said you have to be a team, remember? And in my team, there are mermaids and unicorns.” 

Peter chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled out a paintbrush. “Unicorn coming right up.”

“Petey, that's not a unicorn! That's- that's… a weird donkey.” 

Peter laughed, it wasn’t a secret that art was never his strong suit, unlike Morgan whose mermaid almost looked like one apart from the girl’s smile was wider than her face and the fins looked like the end of Thor's hammer. “We can’t all be great artists like you, Morgs.” 

“Can we get food now? I’m hungry.” 

“Sure we can, Morgs. What kind of food would you like?” He asked, getting up only to realise his legs had lost feeling from kneeling for so long. Luckily he managed to lean on the sofa before he could face plant. 

She jumped up, humming in thought as she walked over to the kitchen. “Cotton candy.” 

“Cotton candy isn't food.”

“Is too!”

“It’s literally sugar,” Peter pointed out. The last thing he needed right now was Morgan on E-numbers. 

“Can I have it for a treat?” She asked, batting her eyelids up at him. 

He sighed, entertaining her idea somewhat. “Where are we going to get cotton candy from, Morgs?” 

“Coney Island.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Coney Island?” 

“I haven’t been in ages! Daddy gets scared on the rides now.” 

No, Daddy has nerve damage in 20% of his right side, Peter corrected internally, but Morgan didn’t need to know that. All she knew was Tony’s right arm didn’t work very well anymore. 

“I guess we could go, but you can’t have cotton candy for lunch.”

“We can get hot dogs first!” She cried, clapping her hands. 

Peter sighed. He did like Coney Island. “Fine, but only if you promise to behave.” 

“I will!” She called, already disappearing up the stairs to find her shoes. 

“I’d leave her in the car if I were you, Morgs. You don’t wanna lose it,” Peter warned, glancing at the small stuffed unicorn in her hands. It had followed her everywhere for almost a month now after Pepper had brought it back from a trip to Europe. The only time she didn’t have it with her was when Pepper stole it in her sleep so she could wash it. 

“I won’t lose it if it’s in my hands!” 

“But Morgs-“ 

“Pinkie stays!” She cried, holding it in a vice grip to her chest. 

Peter sighed, taking his seatbelt off. “Fine.” 

“Come on, Petey, I wanna go on the Ferris wheel.” She pulled at the door handle which didn’t budge. God bless child locks. 

He glanced down at the spare web shooters in the driver's compartment, contemplating for a second before shaking the thought out of their head. They were at an amusement park. If aliens were to invade, they’d have to be someone else’s problem for a few more days. 

He rounded the car to Morgan’s door, letting her out and locking it behind her. “Let’s go find some cotton candy.” 

“Can we go and look at the sea?” Morgan asked, already pulling him towards the pier with her sticky cotton candy hand. He cringed, finding Pinkie was undergoing the same treatment in her other hand. She was going to need a wash again. As did her pink leggings and pale blue t-shirt. If the day's success was calculated by how clean Morgan was, he’d fail. 

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” 

“Pinkie loves the sea,” she said and spiralled into another very detailed story about how Pinkie used to live by the sea with their unicorn friends. 

Peter listened intently, indulging her with questions and a gasp here and there. 

They’d been at Coney Island for almost two hours. Tony had texted to ask how the day was going whilst Morgan was on the small dragon roller coaster around an hour in. When Peter told him what they were up to, his guardian acted like a grandmaster whose plot had unfolded perfectly. Peter had rolled his eyes and shoved his phone away. 

Morgan had made Peter go on at least five different rides with her, including the teacups which honestly made him feel light-headed. His sister laughed and shrieked the whole time though and that made it all worth it. He’d stay dizzy forever to keep Morgan as happy as she was at that moment. 

On the pier a clown was handing out animals in the shapes of balloons. Morgan found his shoes funny.

“Petey?” She asked, tugging at his hand in hers. 

He smiled, looking down at her. “Yeah?”

”What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Peter blinked. He would never get used to her coming out with the most profound questions out of the blue. “Uh, I guess I haven’t thought about it much.” It was a crappy answer and he knew he was in it for the long haul until she was satisfied. This wasn’t his first rodeo. 

”Will you be the same as Daddy?”

”I don’t know, maybe. I know I want to go to MIT like Daddy did, though.” 

“What’s MIT?” She asked mid-walk, coming to a jolting stop when Peter froze.

His spidey senses were suddenly going haywire. He’d never felt them so strong like his muscles were telling him to run. Was this a side effect of the medication? 

“Petey?” 

He looked down, worried he’d scared her, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the sea. 

“Where did all the water go?” 

He followed her gaze. The sea floor was bare. 

His heart stopped. 

He didn’t know much about tsunamis, they’d only studied it in geography once in freshman year, but there was only one thing that could do this to a shoreline. He looked back up and gasped. In the distance, the wave had already formed. 

“Run!” He shouted, grabbing Morgan. 

“Petey?!” She cried, wrapping her legs around his sides.

He was scaring her, but there was no time. He couldn’t afford to comfort her or try to help anyone else like his senses were screaming for him to do. He had to get Morgan to safety. That was his priority.

On the pier, everyone was shouting and running to land. It was ear-splitting for his heightened sense and it made it difficult to run fast when people kept getting in his way, but he had to keep going. 

He had to get Morgan out of here. Nothing else mattered.

In a clearing, he saw an arcade stand at the end of the pier, somewhere that could hopefully give them some protection. It was their only option. 

“It’s okay, Morgs,” he shouted over everyone. He was sprinting now and his heart was hammering in his chest. 

When he was close enough to the stand, he risked a glance over his shoulder. 

He was out of time. 

The tidal wave was seconds from hitting the beach. Seconds from destroying the pier. 

In the last moment, he dived into the stand and cocooned Morgan into him beneath the counter.  

“I’ve got you, Morgs. I’ve-“ 

Peter wasn't able to finish the sentence. 

Chapter Text

The only thing Peter could hear was his heartbeat. It thrummed loudly in his ears fast and irregularly. In his throws of panic, he tried not to breathe in the water thrashing him around, but his lungs screamed for air. When the wave took them, there was no time to take one last gasp. Now he was engulfed in water and had no idea which way was up or how he’d ever find the surface again. 

The only thing he knew was he wasn’t holding onto Morgan anymore. Little Morgan who didn’t have any superpowers on her side and could be anywhere right now, hurt and alone and scared. 

Peter forced his eyes open with a fierce surge of energy to try to seek out the surface. The salt water burned his eyes and he wanted so desperately to close them again, but he couldn’t. The murky water made it difficult to navigate but after some attempts of rotating himself around he caught a glimpse of light. He outstretched his arm ready to drag himself up through the water when a heavy object struck him in the side. It sent him somersaulting in the water and he made the fatal mistake of opening his mouth. He shouted into the wave, beginning to cough. He had to get out. 

He opened his eyes again and kicked against the current, harder and faster than he thought he could until he broke the surface. 

He took in a huge gasp, managing to swallow some water down too. He coughed and tried to take another breath. He still felt like he was drowning. 

The current was dragging him down a street. Cars and other objects that had been dragged with the wave were floating alongside him, all as helpless as him. 

He forced himself to think. He had to get out of the water. It could be dragging him further from his sister. A surge of water hit him, knocking him under again. He got back up quicker this time and immediately looked around for something to use for buoyancy. There was nothing. 

“Morgan!” He screamed as soon as his lungs had enough air. He was getting dragged further. “Morgan!”

Behind him, he caught sight of a rope of fairy lights attached to two opposing buildings. The water was high enough that the lights were half a meter above him. He pushed himself as high up as he could and grabbed onto it. For a moment he feared it would snap against the force pulling him but it stayed strong. 

“Morgan!” He tried again. Now he wasn’t helplessly floating, he looked in every direction for his sister. “Morgan!” He kept calling. His voice was hoarse and his throat killed from the polluted tide he breathed in. 

He could hear other people calling for help but none of them were Morgan. 

His grip faltered. He was panicking. The current was too strong and his body was too weak and Morgan was gone. 

He would never forgive himself if something happened to her. He was supposed to protect her. Tony and Pepper trusted him to keep her safe. Oh god, what if… 

“Petey!” He heard a cry far out to his right. 

His head whipped in the direction. “Morgan!” He couldn’t see her, but he’d know her voice anywhere.  

“Petey!” 

“Morgan!” He cried, managing to swallow yet another gulp of horrid water. 

She yelled again and this time he managed to spot her. There, sitting on the top of a car surrounded by debris fifty metres upstream, was Morgan. 

The rush of relief almost made him lose hold of the line. She was right there. She was alive. 

“I’m coming, Morg!” He called and he scanned his surroundings for the safest way to get to her. He realised the only way to do this was to get to the side and climb along the piles of unsafe-looking clutter next to the building. “Stay there!” 

“Petey!” She cried again.

He let go of the lights. 

The force was immediate and he put everything into swimming for the side. He hadn’t had much experience in swimming. The last time he’d been in water was when he got dropped into the Hudson and that experience had more in common with drowning than swimming. Still, he kicked and pushed at the water until it listened. Finally, he was able to grab onto a wooden crate that was stuck in a car pile-up. He dragged himself onto it feeling the sharp edges splinter his hands and arms. “I’m coming, Morgan!” 

He felt almost weightless once the water was off of him. His body wanted to give up and rest, but there was no time. He navigated over all of the broken objects littering the sides of the street, climbing through the wreckage until he caught sight of Morgan again. 

“Petey!” She was still cross-legged on the top of an SUV, Pinkie in her arms. 

He couldn’t see any blood on her. He thanked any god that listened and found his way to her as quickly as he could. Once he was on the SUV with her, he scooped her into his arms and held onto her tighter than he ever had. “Oh my god, Morgan.” 

She cried his name back into his neck and a piece of his heart broke at how shaken her little voice was. “Where did you go?” She hiccuped. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried to keep hold of you. Are you hurt?” He asked, pulling her to arm's length. She shook her head, but he scanned every inch of her he could see. Her baby blue T-shirt was dirty and she was soaked through but he couldn’t see a scratch on her. 

“Petey your face,” she said, poking his cheek. 

He hissed at the sudden pain. “I’m fine, Morg.” 

“It’s bleeding.” 

He couldn’t help but smile, brushing her wet hair out of her face. “I’m fine, didn’t even know it was there, promise. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” 

She shook her head, lip wobbling. “I want daddy.” 

“I know, but we need to be strong. Can you be strong for me?” 

She nodded and he could cry at how brave she was being. Peter wished he could have her resilience. 

“We need to get somewhere safer.” As if on cue the car below them shifted and Morgan shrieked. “I need you to climb on my back and not let go.” 

Peter kneeled low and Morgan climbed on. “Wrap your legs around my waist. Arms around my shoulders.” 

She did as he instructed and he ended up with Pinkie below his chin. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to let it go. 

“See that ladder truck over there?” He asked, nodding in the distance to a large red truck with its roof a few feet above the water. “We’re going to go there, okay?” 

The truck was a block away. He wished he could find somewhere safe closer, but there wasn’t anything stable looking and he couldn’t risk climbing a building in the state he was in. 

“Hold on,” he said and lowered them into the water slowly, making sure to keep a tight hold on the side of the car. When he let go they were immediately pulled into the current and Peter fought hard to keep his head above water with Morgan on him. He vowed he’d take swimming lessons once this was over. 

His sister stayed quiet, latched on so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe around the arms that now circled his neck. He kept his eyes on the truck, praying that nothing hit them. He could hear other people shouting in the distance, but he saw no one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he did see someone needing help. He could barely keep Morgan safe, let alone anyone else. He hoped the sounds wouldn’t come to haunt Morgan as they would him.

When he reached the truck, he grabbed onto the wide metal bar on the side and let Morgan climb off of him, using his shoulders to get her up onto the roof. He followed after her slower, his muscles protesting every move. 

Morgan was sitting in a small compartment on the roof when he joined her, encased by the truck which could comfortably fit both of them. It would keep them safe. 

Relieved, he sat down beside her and she immediately crawled into his lap, Pinkie in hers. 

“That’s better. We’re safe now.” 

Morgan didn’t question him and he let himself relax a little, leaning his cheek on the crown of her head. 

“Is Daddy going to come get us?” 

Peter hesitated. He subtly reached for his pocket and found what he expected. His phone was gone. Tony had no way of knowing their location. “He’ll be looking for us right now.” 

“What about Mommy?” 

“I… I’m sure she’ll be flying back as soon as she can.” His brain felt sluggish. It shouldn’t have taken so much effort to answer a question that he should have been prepared for. “You’re being so brave, Morgs. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I’m being brave like Spider-Man.” 

Peter smiled, pressing a kiss into her hair. “Wanna know a secret?” 

She nodded. 

“You’re even braver than Spider-Man.”

Morgan beamed at that and he felt a spark of warmth in his bones. Before Morgan had a chance to reply a yell came from close by.

Morgan tensed and stared up at him. 

“I’m going to look at what’s happening, okay?” She nodded. 

“Are you going to be Spider-Man now?” 

Peter shook his head. “I’ll help who I can, but the only thing I am right now is your big brother who’s going to keep you safe, okay?” 

“Okay, Petey.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood up from the small space. 

“Help! I’m over here!” 

He saw the woman instantly. A middle-aged woman with a brown fringed bob was waving frantically in a car on the other side of the street. 

“Are you hurt?” He called, looking around to figure out how he could get her over to the truck. 

“No, but the car keeps moving, I think something’s crushing it!” 

It was then he saw the outer wall of the building next to her had fallen onto the car. “Shit,” Peter muttered, spotting the hose neatly stored on the side of the truck. He grabbed it and unwound as much as he thought he’d need to reach her. “What’s your name?” 

“Clare,” she said shakily. 

“Clare, I’m Peter. I’m going to throw you the hose, you need to grab onto it and I’ll pull you over.”

“Are you insane?! You won't be able to pull me.” She called back looking increasingly more scared by the second. 

“I can, I’m stronger than I look. There’s no other way.”

The woman looked sceptical but he could see her coming to the same conclusion. It was this or get crushed by the car. 

“Ready?” 

She nodded and Peter threw the hose so it landed next to her. 

She missed. 

Peter swallowed, circling the hose back up. His arms chose that moment to remind him how tired he was. 

“I’m going to try again!”

Another nod. Another throw. She somehow managed to grab it at the last second before the current could move it out of reach. 

Peter let out the breath he was holding. “Tie it around your waist and climb out of the car.” 

She did it, slow and shaking. As soon as he was supporting her weight, he got dragged forward and he had to plant a foot in front of him to keep it steady. In normal circumstances, he knew this would be nothing for him. It made him nervous.

“Swim towards me!” He called as he put everything he had into pulling her in. 

It took only a minute but when Clare managed to grab onto the ladder at the side of the truck he fell back onto his butt exhausted. 

“Did you do it, Petey?” Morgan asked with a gleam in her eyes. 

He nodded, unable to hold back a smile. 

Clare made it to the top of the truck, kneeling beside Peter. “I don’t know how you did it kid, but thank you. You saved me.” 

“Oh, I didn’t-“ 

“Peteys a hero!” Morgan exclaimed. 

Clare’s face lit up. “And who do we have here?” 

“I’m Morgan. I'm five and three-quarters.”

Peter chuckled, stroking her hair. “This is my sister.” 

“And you saved her too? What a remarkable young man.” 

He blushed, ducking his head. He wished he hadn’t. There, floating down the river next to the truck was a body. 

Peter had never seen a dead body. Sure, in the battle against Thanos, he’d seen bodies there, but this was different. This was an innocent civilian. Someone unable to defend themselves. Someone who might have been out to do something as simple as buy groceries. Now they were gone. 

Peter quickly moved in front of Morgan, turning her around and cupping her face. “Hey Morgs, why don’t we play eye spy? You can go first?” 

Her face brightened. “Uhhh I spy something beginning with… S.” 

He knew it was sky. She always started with sky. “Hmmm, street?” 

“No.” The body moved past them. 

“Sign?”

“Nope!” She laughed and oh did that make his heart stutter. 

“Shoe?” 

She shook her head and pointed up. 

“Oh, the sky?” 

“Yes!” She clapped Pinkie's hooves together. “Now your turn.” 

He was about to start, but yelling cut him off. He looked over the edge of the truck, making sure to hold Morgan safely back. At least four people were being dragged down the street in the water. “Petey, help them!” 

Peter looked back at her, then up at Clare. “Can you watch her?” 

She nodded, putting a gentle hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Just keep her safe.” He grabbed the hose and dove into the water. 

The coldness shocked him for a moment but he quickly adapted when he saw the first person, a man in his thirties by the look of it, hurtling towards him. 

“Help!” 

“I’ve got you!” He waited until he was within arm's distance and grabbed hold of him. The hose went taut with their weight. “Can you climb up the rope?”

He nodded. “Thank you. Thank you!” He started pulling himself up the length of the hose towards the truck where Peter could see Clare waiting to help him up. 

He got three more people out of the water like that. Whilst his body struggled with the physical toll, the gratitude everyone gave him and the surge he felt from helping them gave him the strength to keep going. 

When the fourth person reached the truck he noticed the vehicle shift slightly in the corner of his eye. Peter snapped his head to it and for a moment he didn’t blink, waiting with bated breath for it to happen again. He stayed like that for over a minute. When nothing happened he returned his search to find others. 

He found a teenager stuck in the rubble a short distance down from the truck and caught a woman who was being dragged down the street by the current. When the lady got to the truck the unthinkable happened. 

Another wave hit, much smaller than the first, but it caused the truck to jolt and forced Peter under the water. It shocked him, but it was nowhere near as bad as the first wave. He broke the surface within a minute and immediately searched for the ladder truck. Half of its occupants were gone. 

“Morgan?” He whispered, voice swallowed up by fear.  

“Morgan!” He dragged himself up the hose line that was still fastened around him. He didn’t hear a response. 

“Morgan! Clare?” 

Nothing. 

After agonising seconds he got back to the truck and practically threw himself up the side rigging. “Morgan!” 

She wasn’t in the compartment he left her in. Clare was gone too along with the teen he’d only just helped out of the water. He turned to the only three people left. “Where - where did the little girl go? Morgan. She was right there.” 

They looked around each other, shaken and confused. 

“She’s in a blue T-shirt. Unicorn toy?” 

They shook their heads regretfully.

Peter thought he was going to throw up. 

He looked around desperately, trying to find a glimpse of her. “Morgan! Morgan?” 

He couldn’t see her in the water surrounding them. She wasn’t on the side of the street like last time. 

She was gone. 

He’d lost her. 

Chapter Text

“Morgan!” Peter yelled again, frantically trying to spot his sister in the mass of destruction surrounding him. 

“I’m sorry,” one of them said behind him, but it was as if he was underwater again. The sound was muffled and far away. “One second she was with us and the next…” 

Peter couldn’t bear it. Without thinking he dived into the water headfirst, arms outstretched in front of him. The harsh entry bit at his hands and tired muscles, but he came up with vengeance and started scanning the water for any sign of her. He could hear people alarmed calling him from the truck but he wasn’t going back. He wouldn’t stop until he found her. 

He swam harder than he’d ever managed, covering every section of the flood he waded through. The current dragged him farther and he found more of the same. People were finding safety on the sides of the water on the piled-up cars and debris. Some people were injured, and others were calling for help. Some called for their lost loved ones. 

“Hey! Have you seen a little girl? Brown hair?” Peter asked a group of three, who looked to be a small family. The adults shook their heads, pulling their little boy closer. 

He willed himself not to lose hope. He wouldn’t stop. Not until he found her. 

He kept calling for Morgan, letting the current take carry him. “Morgan!” 

The more inland he got, the more people there were, but none of them were his sister. 

He didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours of searching when eventually the water shallowed until Peter could walk on solid ground again. 

The edge of the water left a mound of destruction, man-made mixed with seaweed and other things Peter couldn’t make sense of. It formed a small wall between him and dry land and he tried his best to wade through it. He was tired, bone deep. It felt like he’d been swimming for days. He’d looked and looked, but he found nothing. No signs that Morgan had ever been here. 

Up ahead someone was taking charge of the large group of people that had accumulated. Peter stumbled forward, hoping Morgan would be in the crowd, but something caught his eye. 

In the rubble of the tsunami, a little pink unicorn was wrapped up in the reeds. 

He didn’t want to believe it at first. He thought maybe he was seeing things. He took a step back. Blinked. Leaned closer. It was there. It was Pinkie. Peter didn’t recognise the moan that escaped his lips. It was as if all of the hope in his body was torn out of him in one fell swoop. His knees buckled and he had to hold his hands out in front of him to stop himself from falling completely. 

His body quaked as he reached for the familiar toy. It felt like both moments and a lifetime ago that Pinkie had been squashed under his chin as he carried his sister through the flood. Morgan never let him go, even when she’d have been safer for it. She’d have never given him up if she had the chance. 

Peter pressed the soaked toy to his face and wept. It wasn’t the soft, quiet cries he was used to, it was all-consuming body-wracking sobs. He cried out for his sister. His little sister that he loved more than anything. His little sister that he lost. 

He screamed into the matted fabric. 

He’d lost her. He’d lost her and he’d never forgive himself. 

Snot and tears streamed down his face and it made it hard to breathe, not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place. He started choking, then coughing, then when his eyes started dotting with black spots he willed himself to breathe. What did Tony teach him? In, out. In. Hold. Out. 

He focused on the technique more than the thought of Tony otherwise he’d undoubtedly fall into another panic attack. 

“Excuse me, young man?” Something touched his shoulder and he jerked back. He would have fallen into the water if the woman looming over him hadn’t steadied him. He blinked through his tear-clouded vision to find a woman with curly hair and a sad smile now crouching next to him. 

“Hon, you need medical attention.” 

Peter blinked again. “H-Have you seen her?” 

She frowned, looking more concerned than a stranger should. “Who?” 

“M-Morgan. She’s five. Sh-she has brown hair and a blue t-shirt.” He held out the unicorn for her to see. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry, I haven’t. But you’ve got a nasty cut on your arm. Can I help you find first aid?” 

Peter didn’t understand why she was worried about him when it was Morgan who was missing. “Y-you don’t understand.” He coughed, trying to get some air into his lungs. “My sister’s missing. I have to find her.” 

He tried to stand but fell forward. Again, the woman caught him. 

“You’re hurt, you’re in no position to be looking for anyone.” 

Peter glanced down to where the woman was looking. He had a deep cut on his right bicep. It seemed to be bleeding heavily, staining his arm and hand red in its wake. He had no idea when it had happened. Perhaps when he’d dived into the water, or maybe he’d been stuck by something in the water when he’d been searching and not noticed. It was as if he was numb. All that mattered was Morgan. But even in his desperation to find her, he knew that this wasn’t good. “Can you tie something around it?”

“You really need-“ 

“I don’t have time!” 

The woman looked like she wanted to protest but instead, she pressed her lips into a thin line and started tearing off the bottom half of her shirt. 

“Oh, you don’t-“

“If you’re not going to get it treated then you’re going to let me do as best I can for you, got it?” 

Peter was taken aback by her sudden sternness. He watched as she managed to tear off a good chunk of fabric and gestured for him to hold out his arm. 

He managed to angle it so she could wrap the ruined fabric around the cut. It only hurt when she tied it tightly. He hissed, clenching his teeth. He knew even with this slight jolt of pain it was nothing close to the hurt he should be feeling. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

“It’s the least I can do. What’s your name?” She asked as she helped him to his feet. 

“Peter.” 

“Peter, I’m Helen. I’m going to stay around this area and keep an eye out for your sister. I really would urge you to get that cut checked out, but something tells me you won’t.” She smiled sadly, “If you need anything you come right back here and find me.” 

Peter nodded. “Do you know where people have been going? A refuge point?” 

“There’s a few dotted around that I’ve heard of, but it’s still too soon for proper sites. Maybe try local hospitals? I know emergency services are trying to get to as many people as they can right now.” 

“Thank you.” 

She put a hand on his cheek and he distantly felt warmth. “I hope you find her.” 

He managed to flash her a small smile before taking his first wobbly step towards the crowds of people ahead. 

Helen was right. There were already hubs being set up surrounding places close to the affected areas and deeper in. Makeshift tents were being erected along with medical support by what Peter understood was run by medical students and first aiders. Whoever they were, they looked at Peter with apprehension. Each place he went there were so many people in his position trying to find loved ones. It was heartbreaking, but he couldn't let himself absorb the situation. He had to find Morgan. Only then he could allow himself to feel. 

He searched everywhere. When he found a larger gathering of people further inland, the sun was setting and his voice was wrecked from constant shouting. Every time he’d called his sister's name he felt less optimism that he’d hear her call back. He’d never known devastation like it. 

He wished it was him. Oh, how he wished it was him who had been swept away with the second wave. It was all he could think. She’d have been safe with the others on the truck. They’d have been able to get her to safety and Tony would have undoubtedly found her and taken her home. Now she might never go home again and it was his fault. 

“Has anyone seen a little girl called Morgan?” He asked another faceless group of people. He kept his eyes at Morgan’s height. It didn’t matter who the people he bumped into were, none of them were her. 

He got the usual back. “No”, “sorry”, “are you okay”.

He sighed, dragging himself along to find the next group. 

That was when he saw her. 

She was facing away from him, brown hair matted and blue t-shirt dirtier than before but she looked unharmed. She was standing with a young man with her hand in his across the street. Peter almost broke down right there. He willed his legs forward and soon he was almost running. “Morgan!” 

He stumbled on his numb legs, somehow managing to keep his footing. He called her again and dropped to his knees. He touched her shoulder gently, turning her to face him. “Morg-“

Peter's heart dropped. 

It wasn’t her. 

The girl's wide blue eyes stared back at her and the man who might be her father pulled her away from him. Peter didn’t move from where he was crouched. He watched as his last fleeting hope shuffled away from him. It wasn’t her. Morgan was gone. 

He felt tears streaming down his face, but he didn’t make a noise this time, he didn’t think he had the energy. He didn’t know how he was supposed to keep going. He’d tried. He’d looked everywhere, high and low. He’d dragged himself miles in search of her but she was nowhere to be found. 

He tried to imagine telling Tony. How he’d tell him he’d tried. He could picture his guardian's face falling, but into what? Would he be upset or angry that Peter had let this happen? Would he kick him out? Would Tony ever be able to look him in the eye again?

Peter shook his head. He had to keep going. He wouldn’t give up. 

At some point, the sun had set completely and all that was left was darkness. He didn’t stop. 

He must have looked like a state. He was barely hanging on. His arm was still bleeding, his feet were battered, and he barely had any voice left. He still held onto Pinkie, careful to keep him in the hand not covered in blood.

The longer he went on the more often his ask for Morgan was ignored and they straight up told him he needed help. He ignored them right back. “Morgan,” he’d insist, blinking back the tiredness. Nothing. 

It was always nothing. 

He continued on. Eventually, he found a hospital. He didn’t know which one. He hadn’t been aiming for one, but it felt like a sign when he stumbled upon it. 

There were emergency services surrounding the outside, guiding people to the right places and trying to put some order into the chaos. He avoided them for fear they’d force him to get help. Instead, he went to a table near the hospital entrance where a man in a high-vis jacket was taking down names. “Have you seen a little girl,” Peter asked like a broken record. “Morgan. Five years old. B-Brown hair, blue t-shirt.” 

“Let me see.” He flicked through the pages in front of him. 

Peter's vision was blurry but he could see that every line had a name and other information he couldn’t decipher. He stood there for over a minute before the man said the words he’d heard so many times before. 

“I’m sorry, she’s not here. If she's been admitted to a hospital it isn’t this one.” 

“I don’t know if she has,” Peter admitted tiredly. 

The man’s face stiffened and he glanced over Peter's shoulder. “Have you tried that tent?” 

Peter turned and saw a black tent. On the floor were things wrapped in white that could only be one thing.

Nausea welled in Peter. No. She couldn’t be there. She couldn’t be- “Isn’t that…”

“The morgue.” 

Peter stumbled back. 

“Kid, I think you need-“ 

He didn’t wait to hear what the man had to say. He couldn’t hear it.  Instead, he pushed himself through the hospital entrance. 

Kid. That was what Tony called him. Vomit filled his mouth but he swallowed it back down. 

He couldn’t think of Tony right now.

“Sir, can I help you?” A woman, a nurse judging by her uniform, was looking at him very concerned. He was tired of people worrying about him. “I think you need a doctor to take a look at your arm.” 

Peter felt dizzy. He backed away from the woman and shook his head. The morgue. She could be- 

“Is there someone you want to call?” When he looked at her again she was holding out her phone.

Peter stared at it, contemplating if he should take it. Who would he call? The one person he needed right now was out of the picture. Shakily he took it. Stared at the dial pad. Typed. Called. 

“Who are you and how did you get this number.” 

Peter felt weak. “MJ,” he breathed.

“Peter? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” 

Where to begin? Peter thought, trying to organise his racing mind. “I was at the beach.” 

“The beach? What- oh my god. Do not tell me you were in the tsunami.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut. “We were.” 

“Where are you? Is Stark with you? Are you hurt?”

“I-I don’t know, but listen MJ, I…”

“What? I can come and help, just tell me where you are.” 

“I lost her,” he whispered. 

There was a long pause that lingered between them. “Lost who?” Her voice sounded like she knew.

“Morgan.” 

“Oh.” He almost expected profanities from her. A string of curses followed by reassurance that she’d be safe somewhere. She didn’t do any of that.

“What am I going to do?” 

“Peter, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. You’re going to get somewhere safe and you’re going to call your dad.” 

Peter felt his eyes welling up again. “I can’t.” 

“You can't, what, get somewhere safe? Get Tony to fly you out.” 

“I can’t tell him.” 

“I’m not following. Why not?”

“How am I supposed to tell him I lost his daughter?” 

There was a hitch of breath on the other side of the phone. “You didn’t lose her.”

“I did!” He cried. “I-I had her. After the wave hit I found her but I left her to help some people and a-another wave hit and she was gone.” 

“You need to tell him. He’s not going to blame you.” 

He was about to argue but a commotion down the corridor to his left stopped him. At first, the man’s back was to him. He was frantically shouting someone’s name, trying to speak to anyone near him. Then Peter caught the side of his face and he reeled back, almost dropping the phone. 

“Oh god,” he choked and made for the doors. He broke into the cold night air and somehow didn’t fall down the stairs as he shuffled further away from the hospital. 

“What is it? Peter, what’s happened?” MJ yelled through the phone when he stopped responding. 

Shaking, he raised it back to his ear. “He’s here,” he whispered as if he might be heard. 

“Who? Peter, you’re not making any sense.” 

“T-Tony. He’s at the hospital.” 

“Then why are you still on the phone? Go to him!” 

Peter shook his head, taking another stumbling step. “I can’t. Not without her.” He brought the unicorn to his face and tried to take some deep breaths. 

“She might be somewhere safe for all you know, you can’t think the worst.” 

“I found her unicorn. I looked e-everywhere.” 

“Peter?” 

Peter's heart seized. His whole body tensed and the phone slipped from his hand onto the floor. 

“Pete, is that you?” 

He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. He forced himself to turn around to find Tony’s horrified eyes staring back at him. 

Peter looked down ashamed, but Tony didn’t notice because within a second he’d closed the distance between them and engulfed the teen into a hug. It was delicate as if Tony already knew he was hiding injuries, but gentleness made Peter's heart shatter. Would this be the last time he ever held him like this? 

“Oh god, Peter,” his guardian murmured his name again, over and over. Just as he had for Morgan. 

“Tony.” Peter pulled away from him and he seemed even more distraught, but he couldn’t stay in his embrace with the guilt that suffocated him. 

“What is it? Are you hurt? Where’s Morgan?” 

Peter looked down at the unicorn clutched in his hand. “I-“ he tried to speak but his mouth went dry and he couldn’t form the words. 

“Peter?” He whispered. 

He couldn’t meet his eyes. “We were at the pier. Sh-she wanted to see the sea. I-I tried, but I couldn’t and I don’t know how to say she just vanished -“

“Peter…” 

He shook his head, somehow able to spill more tears. “I tried, I swear. I’m so sorry, I-“ 

“Morgan?” 

Peter let out a choked sob. “I-I’m sorry, Mister Stark.” 

“Morgan!” 

Tony suddenly moved past him, running towards the road. Peter turned around to find a woman with a little girl, holding her hand. 

It was Morgan. 

Peter's knees almost gave out from the indescribable wave of relief that hit him. 

She was there, standing on her own two feet - or she was until Tony scooped her into his arms. 

“Daddy!” 

He couldn’t hear Tony’s response, his face was in her hair peppering what Peter expected to be countless kisses.

The woman next to them looked confused. “Tony Stark?” 

“Yes, I’m her father.” He heard his guardian respond. 

“She was asking for ‘Petey’.” 

Peter let out a breath. Tony turned around, Morgan still in his arms. 

Their eyes met.

She was safe. 

His remaining energy seeped from him and he fell to his knees. He was unconscious before his head hit the ground. 

Chapter Text

Peter was dreaming. He couldn’t see anything, but he could distantly hear Morgan. He didn’t know what she was saying, he could only make out the light notes of her voice and he let it lull him. He tried to focus on it in and out, but no matter what he couldn’t hear the words or see her. He then realised there was another voice, low and rumbling. Again, he couldn’t make out the words, but he knew it was Tony. Peter relaxed a little. They were both there with him, somewhere close, and he allowed himself to rest. 

That was until he heard Morgan starting to cry. He thought she might be laughing at first, but then he recognised the undeniable hiccups she always did when she cried and Peter's peaceful dream was ruined. He could feel his heartbeat spiking. She was crying and he couldn’t get to her. He couldn’t see her or help her and she was upset and no matter how hard he tried to move or open his eyes or do anything he couldn’t. 

“I want Petey back,” he heard through the fog.

Morgan, he thought brokenly.

Why couldn’t he get to her? He couldn’t feel his arms or his legs. He couldn’t - Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders and face and it terrified him. He thought there was something in his throat. Morgan’s crying had stopped now. He couldn’t hear her at all above the loud beeping. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to be able to breathe. Was he hyperventilating? 

He wanted to wake up. He didn’t like this dream anymore. He heard someone call his name before he succumbed to the dark again.

Peter ached. His bones felt like lead. He thought he groaned but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t hear much of anything right now. He tried to raise his arm and all that did was twitch a finger. At least he still had fingers. 

There was something on his face, uncomfortable and plastic-y - was that a word? He didn’t care. He wanted it off. 

He groaned again and this time he heard it. Sound seemed to come back to him then, in the forms of beeping and a low buzzing. Peter almost wished it would go away again. 

“Pete?” 

Tony. Tony? He fought to open his eyes, only to be greeted by a blinding light above him. He snapped his eyes shut and groaned again. Was this what it felt like to be a moody teenager in the morning? 

“Fri, dim lights.” 

The light behind his eyelids darkened. He tried again. 

Tony sat to the left of him, back to a window that showed some of the New York skyline at night. He looked down at his arms that lay above a bed sheet, a heart monitor on his right index finger and an IV in the crook of his arm. He hated needles. 

Somehow, he managed to get his arms to cooperate and his hand reached that annoying thing on his face, an oxygen mask he guessed. He didn’t need it, he was breathing just fine. 

As soon as he got his fingers clumsily around it, Tony had his hand wrapped around Peter's wrist, pulling it back down. 

“I don’t want it,” he tried to say but it came out more like don’ wan’ i’. His voice sounded awful. Worse than just disuse. It felt raw. His throat hurt like someone had carved his voice box out. Had someone taken his voice box? He blinked. Tony must have given him the good stuff. 

“You need it. And try not to talk much.” 

He nodded, feeling tired even though he’d just woken up. 

“Are you in any pain?” Tony looked worried. More so than usual. 

Peter shook his head. He just felt heavy. And tired.

“Is there anything I can get you?” 

Another shake. 

Tony sighed and his shoulders sagged a little. He took his hand, the one not hooked up to machines.

“M voice,” he squeaked.

Tony winced. “You’ve damaged your vocal cords, they should mend though.” 

“Wha ‘appended?” 

“You don’t remember?” 

He should, but his brain was foggy. It all felt wrong. 

“There was a tsunami.” 

He didn’t elaborate because he knew he didn’t have to. As soon as he said it something clicked in his memory. “Morgan,” he rasped suddenly, muffled by the mask. Where was Morgan? Why wasn’t Tony with her? Was she okay? 

He squeezed his hand gently. “She’s okay, kid. She’s safe.” 

It was Peter's turn to relax this time. “Where?” 

“Upstairs with Pepper sleeping. She's okay, thanks to you.” 

Peter shook his head, feeling his eyes sting. His eyes closed before he could try to argue. 

The next time he woke, the oxygen mask was gone and natural light illuminated the room. Tony was still there, but his chin was resting on his chest and his arms were crossed over his middle. He was snoring. 

Peter watched him. He couldn’t be sure, but he was wearing different clothes from what he remembered the last time he woke up, but that was the only evidence Tony had moved at all. His hair was a mess and he looked exhausted even in sleep.

He didn’t understand why Tony was here at all. He should have been with Morgan, not him. He’d put Tony’s daughter in danger and couldn’t even protect her. Peter, with superpowers, failed to keep her safe. Maybe Tony felt sorry for Peter and that was why he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to kick a man when he was down. Was he waiting for him to be out of his hospital bed before he cast him out? 

Peter's heart lurched at the thought and apparently, that was all it took to wake Tony. 

He blinked his eyes open with a start, immediately finding Peter. “You’re awake,” he said. 

Peter would have joked back, but he was too scared to say anything, so he just nodded. He wondered if his voice still sounded like sandpaper. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Fine,” he rasped. Yep, still sandpaper. They both winced. 

“Helen said your throat will be sore for another few days. She made some medication that will hopefully help.” He nodded to a small bottle of cough-syrup-looking stuff. 

Helen had made that for him? “Thanks,” he whispered. 

Tony seemed to remember something and quickly moved to the corner of the room where a small cabinet resided next to the slim window that spanned floor to ceiling. He came back with a plastic cup of water and Peter almost cried with relief. 

He took it from him with his shaking hands and drank some tentative sips. It hurt to swallow. 

“Better?” Tony asked, setting the cup down. 

He nodded, waiting for him to leave or berate him or something, but instead, he sat down looking at Peter sadly. 

“Is she okay?” 

“She’s fine Pete, a few scrapes and bruises but nothing serious. She was out of medbay within an hour. Unlike someone.” The accusation in his tone didn’t go unmissed. 

Peter hung his head. “M’ sorry.” 

Tony huffed, but there wasn’t any heat in it, it was more resignation. “You know how conflicting it is to be so proud of someone and so infuriated with them at the same time? I guess I should be used to it by now, but this really takes the cake.” 

Peter kept his eyes trained on his pale blue bed sheets currently pooled at his stomach from where he was propped up halfway to sitting.

“You knew the dangers of getting hurt on that medication and you didn’t even think to get checked out. Or maybe you did and just decided not to. I don’t know what’s worse.” 

Silence fell in the room and the tension made him feel nauseous. It was like waiting for the inevitable ball to drop and Peter would be gone. 

“MJ came by.” 

His head snapped up. “What?” 

“She came over almost straight after we got you here. Said you’d called her.” 

Peter bit his lip and nodded. He couldn’t look Tony in the eye.

“She said some stuff that I didn’t want to believe. I need you to tell me it’s true.” 

He resisted the urge to curl up in a ball and cry for Tony’s forgiveness, he knew he didn’t deserve it. He knew where this was going. 

“Why would you call her instead of me? I’m your dad. I’m both your dads.” 

Peter shrugged. “I-I don’t know.” 

“Don't you? So it wasn’t because you saw me in the hospital and ran away from me?” His voice broke at the end of his question and it felt like a punch to the gut. 

His eyes stung from tears prickling. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Why would you…” 

He looked up to find Tony with his head tilted back, hand pinching the bridge of his nose when a sob escaped him. It made his shoulders shake and Peter felt even worse, a tear of his own running down his cheek. 

When Tony looked back at him he somehow looked more destroyed than before. “What were you thinking?” 

“I-I dont-“

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. Please, just tell me why.” 

“I was scared,” he admitted in a small voice.

 “Of me?” 

He shook his head, looking down. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face you. Not after I lost her.” He managed to finish his sentence before he fell into a fit of coughs. He doubled over, one hand on his stomach and another on his worn-out throat. 

“Drink this, it’ll help,” Tony instructed quickly, putting a hand on the back of his head and guiding the cup to Peter's lips with the other. 

He managed to drink between coughs and eventually, he managed to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the bed exhausted. 

No one spoke for a while. Peter was panting, trying to calm himself and Tony was silent beside him. 

When his breaths evened out he opened his eyes and found Tony watching him with tears streaming freely down his face. 

“I’m so sorry, kid. I shouldn't have pushed you.” 

“Wha’?” 

“It's too soon. You need to rest and I…”

“I’s okay.”

“It’s not. None of this is okay.” 

“Sorry.” 

Tony shook his head, wiping his cheeks with more force than necessary. “I just,” he started before pausing as if he hadn’t planned how to say the thoughts in his head. “I love you so much, Pete. And I was so close to losing you.” 

Peter's heart hurt. Somewhere in the moments he’d been lucid he’d convinced himself he’d never hear Tony say that to him again. “Why?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking. 

His guardian frowned. “Why what?”

“Why do you still love me?”

Tony stared at him as if he’d just said the most horrifying thing he’d ever heard. Peter thought it was a reasonable thing to ask until this reaction. It was as if he’d stabbed him straight in the heart. 

“How can you ask me that?” He whispered. 

Peter shrugged and the tears that threatened to spill came flooding out. 

“Peter.” He said firmer, taking his chin in his fingers so he had to look up. “Why would you ask me that?” 

He wished he could look anywhere else right now. He almost wanted to pretend to be too tired and ask for Tony to leave but he was a live wire of nerves right now, he was surprised he wasn’t shaking. “I lost her. Lost Morgan. I lost your daughter.”  

His voice couldn't make out all of the syllables, but his message hit home. 

“You think I’d stop loving you because of what happened?” 

Peter didn’t get why Tony didn’t understand. How couldn’t he after everything? “I left her. I found her and I left her and she disappeared. Sh-she could have-“ 

“She didn’t,” Tony interjected firmly. “Not even close. She’s safe and well and you cannot think like that.” 

“If I’d just stayed with her…” 

“You did everything you could. Everything.” He squeezed his arm. “And I'm proud of you. You hear me? I'm proud of you and I love you.”

“But I lost her,” he argued. “It’s my fault she was there. I should have known. I should have sensed it.” 

“None of this was your fault, you got that? There was no way you could have known.”

“I’m supposed to have superpowers. What good -“ he stopped to cough, trying to soothe his throat with his hand. “What good are they if I can’t keep my own family safe?”

“You’re on medication that affects your powers, you can’t blame yourself. Even if you weren’t, it still wouldn’t be on you. You’re just a kid.”

“But I left her!” His outburst made him wince at the pain in his throat, but he was too worked up to stop. “I left her and I-I found Pinkie and I…” he couldn't manage any more, letting all of his pent-up terror out. He’d been so scared for so long thinking the worst. 

“Hey, come here, baby,” Tony cooed, moving to sit on the side of the bed and Peter fell into him. His dad wrapped his arms gently around him, enough to feel closeted against the world and he buried his face in his chest. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Morgan’s okay.” 

“I-I thought she’d-“ he couldn’t say it, but Tony knew. He squeezed him closer. “She’s safe. She’s just fine and she loves you.” 

“I was so scared.” 

“I know, baby. I know. You did so good. You did everything you could and I’m proud of you.” 

Peter continued to cry and Tony pressed his face to the side of Peters, alternating between kissing his hair and whispering soft comforts in his ear. Both actions didn’t help quench his tears, but Tony seemed committed to riding it out so Peter did just that. He cried until he couldn't any more. 

He didn’t know how long it took, but eventually, he sagged boneless against Tony. His energy had been sapped out of him and he didn’t have any tears left to cry. He gave in to what Tony was telling him. That he was proud of him. That he loved him. That Morgan loved him. Pepper loved him. 

“Can I see her?” He asked tiredly into Tony’s chest. 

Tony hummed, pulling him back. He kept one arm wrapped around his shoulder and his other hand carding through his hair. “Of course you can, Pete. She’s been dying to see you.”

“Why hast she?” He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. 

He smiled sadly. “She did for a while when you were unconscious, but when you were getting to the stage where you were waking up, having her in the room seemed to distress you and it was affecting your recovery. We agreed it would be better to keep her upstairs until you woke up fully.”

Peter nodded, remembering his dreams of her. He realised they might not have dreams at all.

“How long have I been here?” 

“Four days. It was pretty bad.” 

Peter knew he was dumbing it down. Tony meant it was awful but he didn’t want to upset him. It was as far as his bedside manner stretched usually. 

“But I’m okay now?” 

Tony nodded, “getting there. Your throat is gonna hurt like a bitch for a while and Helen will want to monitor you for another day or so.” 

He closed his eyes, leaning into Tony’s hand which was now methodically scratching his head. It was one of his favourite feelings in the world. He remembered Ben used to do the same when he was hurt or scared. It was an action that only ever came from love. He didn’t realise he’d drifted off until he blinked his eyes open again. 

Tony was still there, still on the bed next to him and scratching his scalp. 

“Wha’ ‘appened to my voice?” 

His hand fell away, pressing his mouth into a thin line. “You uh, you screamed yourself hoarse.” 

Ah. That unfortunately made sense. “What else?” He asked, looking at his bandaged upper arm. 

“You managed to cut yourself at some point, you’re damn lucky it didn’t hit an artery, but because of your medication, the bleeding didn’t stop. You went hypovolemic.” 

Peter swallowed painfully. 

“Helen gave you a blood transfusion straight away. It was touch and go but we got there. We got you out the other side.” 

Peter didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say to that. He’d fucked up again and Tony had to deal with the fallout. 

Tony sighed, brushing his hair back. 

Peter blinked tiredly, smiling at the familiar gesture. 

“You know you only had one shoe on?” 

Peter frowned in silent question.

“All those miles you walked trying to find Morgan you only had one shoe on.”

Peter almost laughed at the absurdity. “I didn’t notice.”

“No, well you might when you walk out of here in a few days. Nothing broken but your foot’s been better, to say the least.” 

Peter couldn’t say he cared. He knew he should be more concerned, but all that mattered was Morgan was safe and Tony still loved him. A cut-up foot or even something as scary as a blood transfusion didn’t come close to the relief he felt. He’d do it all again and he was pretty sure his dad knew it too. 

“How about this, you get some rest and when you wake up I’ll get Helen to bring you some food and Pepper will bring Morgan down.” 

He hummed tiredly with a small smile, letting Tony manoeuvre him back down onto the bed. 

“Promise?” 

Tony nodded, holding out a spoon of cough syrup. He swallowed it in one and instantly felt the soothing effects. 

“Promise. Rest kid. I love you, okay? We all do.” 

“Are y’gonna stay?” 

“Always, kiddo.”

Peter smiled, feeling Tony squeeze his hand as he drifted to sleep. 

Chapter Text

“Petey!” 

Tony immediately shushed her. “A little quieter Morg. Remember he’s a grumpy teenager.” 

“Petey,” Morgan repeated in a very loud whisper. 

Peter's lip quirked, stretching his limbs under the familiar thin hospital sheets. He blinked awake, finding Morgan hovering over him, inches from his face. 

There wasn’t a scratch on her. Peter almost melted with relief. “Hey Momo.” 

“Petey!” She shrieked and crashed forward into his chest. She tried to wrap her arms around him in a hug, but struggled since he was lying down. 

“Morgan, what did I tell you,” Tony said, trying to pry the girl off of him gently, but Peter hugged her close and gave Tony a reassuring smile. 

The solid weight on his chest had been the best thing he’d felt in days. He closed his eyes, drinking in his sister's warmth and pressed a kiss to the side of her clean curls. Tony had promised him she’d been unharmed, but he couldn’t fully believe it until he saw her, smiling and rosy-cheeked in front of him. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured, pressing another kiss into her head.

She held onto him just as tightly and Peter tried to commit the feeling to memory. Eventually, she pulled away, sitting on the side of the bed just up from Peter's hip. Her happiness morphed into a pout, suddenly very serious. “You’re not allowed to be hurt.”

“Not that hurt any more, Mo.” He said, putting his hand over hers. 

This didn’t seem to satisfy her, if anything her frown deepened. “What’s wrong with your voice?”

Tony cleared his throat nervously, but Peter had anticipated this. “Drank too much seawater, but Helen made me a special potion to fix it.” He nodded to the brown bottle on his bedside table. 

Morgan picked it up and scanned it closely. “What’s in it?”

“You’d have to ask Doctor Helen.” 

She nodded. “I will. I like Doctor Helen.” 

“Did she look after you after Daddy found you?” 

She nodded, still rolling the bottle over in her hand. Her lip wobbled and Peter had to push down his panic. “Morgan? What’s wrong?” 

Tony took the bottle from her and she turned to face him, eyes glassy. “You got hurt.” 

“Only a little.” 

“You weren’t getting better. You wouldn’t wake up.” 

Peter's eyes stung, but he tried desperately to keep up a brave face. “I’m sorry I scared you.” 

The wobbling didn’t stop and a tear slipped down her cheek. “There were machines and they kept beeping and-“ she choked herself off with a hiccuping sob. 

“Oh, hey, come here,” he said softly, pulling her back into his chest. He noticed his arm hurt a lot less than yesterday, but that wasn’t important right now. “You’ve been so brave, you know that?” 

She nodded through her little cries. 

“I know it must have been really scary for you, I was scared too.” 

She sniffed, blinking up at him with her wide hazel eyes. “You were?” 

He nodded. “I was. Every second.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I wanted to keep you safe.”

“But I am.” He could see this didn’t make sense to her. He wondered if it was because she didn’t think superheroes got scared. He missed having that innocence.

Peter smiled weakly. “Yeah. You are. We all are.” 

“When can we go home?”

“Soon. Right, Dad?” He looked at Tony who scowled at the question. 

“We can go home once Helen gives you the all clear.” 

“Which is?” 

“Helen said tomorrow morning if things keep improving,” Pepper said, currently perched on the arm of Tony’s chair. 

“And not a second sooner,” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms. 

Peter rolled his eyes. If there was one thing that would never change, it would be Tony’s defiance to let Peter escape medbay early. 

Morgan settled in beside him on the side of his uninjured arm, using Peter's hospital gown to smush her face against in an act of drying her cheeks. 

“Did you hear from anyone called Clare?” Peter asked. 

Tony nodded. “She’s who gave Morgan to one of the volunteers at the hospital. Apparently, she had to find her husband, we’re keeping a lookout online.” 

“She told me we’d find you,” Morgan said. “And you looked after Pinkie.” 

Peter frowned, thinking back to that dirt-ridden unicorn. “You still have her?” 

She nodded. “Mom said she needed a big wash though.”

Peter hummed, but said nothing else. He was quite convinced that the toy given back to Morgan would in fact not be the same unicorn from a few days ago. 

They continued to chat around him and at one point Happy joined them in the room, but Peter was slowly zoning out, only focusing on the feel of Morgan pressed safe and unharmed at his side. He let her heartbeat lull him to sleep. 

Helen gave Peter the green light to go home as planned the morning after. Tony had asked her if she was sure at least four times, which earned him a stern eyebrow raise and a question about whether he doubted her medical ability. 

He was free, but under strict instructions of rest and recovery. No putting pressure on his left foot, no heavy lifting or overexertion, or exertion of any kind for that matter. 

Because of Peter's luck, his injured arm meant he couldn’t use a crutch to let him leave medbay with an ounce of dignity. Instead, he was offered a wheelchair which Peter insisted was ‘way over the top’ or a carry from Tony. 

Tony carried him to the car. Peter sulked the whole time. 

He couldn’t find himself to hold a grudge though once he was back in his own bed. It felt like heaven sinking into the soft mattress. If Tony weren’t so adamant about feeding him, he’d have fallen asleep right there. 

“Oh no you don’t. Helen said you need three meals a day.” Tony tapped his forehead and presented him with soup and a buttered slice of bread. He’d only been given a few minutes of alone time and this was his reward? 

Peter turned his nose up. “Bread?” 

Tony sat down on the bed next to him. “You can’t have toast, it’ll hurt your throat.” 

“My voice box is hurt not my throat,” he muttered, looking down at the vegetable soup. 

“I don’t care, you sound like you’ve chain-smoked for eighty years. No scratchy food.” 

Peter sighed, tearing the bread in his hands and dipping it into the soup. 

“Sure, who needs cutlery?”

Peter made a point to put the soggy bread in his mouth and start chewing before responding, “I’m hurt, you have to be nice to me.” 

Tony gave an exasperated sigh. “Just don’t let Morgan see otherwise she’ll never use a knife and fork again.” 

“Let me see what?” Her sweetly innocent voice asked behind them. 

Peter snorted, shovelling more soup-soaked bread into his mouth. 

She clambered up into Tony’s lap, looking between the two. “Nothing Morgs. Your brother’s just being a heathen.” 

To that, Peter slurped his soup extra loudly from his spoon. 

Morgan cocked her head. “A what?”

Tony snorted softly. “Doesn’t matter. How are you doing, Mo?” 

“Good. I didn’t like it when Petey left again.” 

Peter's heart sank. “I’m only here.”

“But mom said I have to let you rest.” 

Peter set aside his soup, opening up his arms. She carefully inserted herself between them, resting her head beneath his chin. “You can stay with me if you want, but it might be boring since I’m gonna sleep a lot.” 

“You’re not boring. Even when you’re sleeping.” 

Peter smiled, resting his head on hers. “Thank you, M. That means a lot.” 

“Is Daddy staying too?” 

The pair looked at Tony who was making himself comfortable in the desk chair. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

Peter couldn’t say how long he slept for, but when he opened his eyes it was nighttime and Morgan was gone. 

“You okay, bud?” Tony murmured from his bedside. Because of course he was still there. 

He nodded. “Morgan?” 

“Sleeping in our bed with Pepper. We didn’t want you getting a dead arm from her sleeping on you for too long.” 

“What time is it?” 

He glanced at the tablet in his lap. “Just after ten.” 

Peter blinked. Nine hours of sleep and he was still tired? 

“You feeling up to coming downstairs for something to eat? I didn’t wake you earlier because Helen said sleep was more important as long as I fed you when you woke up.” 

Peter hummed, reluctant to leave the warmth of his bed. “Helen was here?” 

Tony shook his head. “No, I just called her about six times.” He got up, joints clicking and he moved into a long stretch. 

Peter tried to focus on the endearing side and not on him being a hindrance, but a small part of him still felt guilty. “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry.” 

Tony snorted humourlessly. “My kids got caught in a tsunami I think I’m allowed to worry as much as I see fit.” 

Well, when he put it like that... “Good point.” 

“Would sir like a bridal carry or to use me as a human crutch to get downstairs?” He asked in a posh somewhat British accent and extended his hands flamboyantly.

He laughed and answered by holding out his arms. 

Tony seemed pleased with his response, looping his own arms under Peter and lifting him. He regretted his choice when his dad grunted in discomfort as he tried to adjust Peter to relieve some nerve damage pains.

“I can walk,” he tried weakly. 

Tony huffed, starting a careful walk to the stairs. “And I’m Spider-Man.” 

“I’m Spider-Man,” he corrected, confused. 

“Oh, I thought we were listing things that weren’t true.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. Tony looked smug. He submitted to the carry, leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder. 

He used the time between his room and the kitchen to consider how Tony might be feeling. This was his first stint of clear awareness where he had time to think about something other than how tired he was or the aching pain in his joints. He’d got a flavour of how Tony was back in med bay when he’d woken up, but that was frustration more than anything. He’d seen that reaction countless times before like when he’d taken his suit after the ferry incident. They’d got better at it, but Tony’s hurt and fear from caring so much still sometimes expelled this way. He couldn’t blame him. 

Had he spent hours searching, thinking the worst? It had almost killed Peter thinking he’d lost Morgan, how must Tony have felt thinking he’d lost both of them? He hoped it wasn’t true, but what other conclusion could he have formed after hours of nothing? 

“How long were you searching?” Peter asked quietly when Tony deposited him on the couch. He assumed his dad had decided a stool in the kitchen was too precarious in his state. 

Tony swallowed, sitting down beside him. “Hours. As soon as I heard. Thank god you sent that message otherwise I’d never have known you were there.” 

Peter stayed silent, thinking. “We didn’t have our watches.” 

“No, but I’m not going to scold you again whilst you're recovering.” 

He didn’t need Tony to be mad at him to know he’d messed up. If he’d been wearing his watch Tony could have located them in seconds. Instead, he’d put him and his sister in danger. 

“Stop it,” Tony said, squeezing his good hand. “You’re not blaming yourself.” 

Peter hung his head, staring at the bandages in his right hand. Apparently, he’d cut himself there too, likely from sifting through rubble. What a mess he must have looked. 

“Friday alerted me of something today,” Tony said when the silence became too heavy. “ An online forum for the tsunamis lost and found. People were asking about a kid named Peter. Said they’d saved them.” 

Peter looked up, finding Tony watching him with something close to wonder in his eyes. “You saved more than ten people.” 

He didn’t know what to say to that. On one hand, he was relieved that they’d made it, but on the other… “Is it bad that I wouldn’t have if it meant Morgan was safe?” 

“Morgan is safe,” Tony insisted. 

“Yeah, but if I could go back and tell myself that if I save those people I lose Morgan, I wouldn’t have done it. I’d have stayed with her.” He felt dirty even saying it out loud, but it was true. He’d have done anything to protect her, anything to have saved himself the torture of thinking she was gone. 

“That’s not bad, Pete. That’s what you do for your family. You think I invented time travel to save half the universe?” He shook his head. “I did it to get you back. Because you and Morgan and Pepper are the most important people in the world to me. And as much as this whole great power and great responsibility comes into it, the people you love always come first.” 

Tony had told him this before, but he’d never quite believed him until now. He knew now that he’d have done the same for that reason alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I got the chance.” 

Tony sighed. “It’s okay, bud. Please just… promise me if, god forbid something happens in future, you call me. You trust that no matter what happens I love you.”

“But Morgan…” 

Tony closed his eyes, taking hold of Peter's hand again. He breathed deep through his nose. Two breaths. Three. He looked back up at Peter, grimace fading. “It kills me just thinking about it. I don’t know if I can even say it…” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “If something happened to your sister, if she had… I wouldn’t love you any less. I couldn’t love you any less. You’re my kid just as much as Morgan and nothing.” Peter must have made a face because Tony held him tighter. “Nothing could ever make me turn my back on you. Nothing could make me stop caring or loving you. So you come home to me no matter what. You come home to us.” 

Peter didn’t realise he’d started crying until Tony wiped his wet cheeks with his thumbs. “You got that?” 

He nodded, choked up. “Yeah, Dad.” 

“Good.” He folded Peter into a careful hug. He held him back one armed, letting him replay the words in his head. He wanted to believe them, he really did. 

“Right, food,” he said after a minute or so had passed. “I have Michael’s lasagne in the fridge for you.” 

Peter felt his stomach grumble in response. Michael was the private chef Tony had on speed dial when he either didn’t want to cook or didn’t have any food in. Peter had hated it at first, knowing full well one meal from him would have covered half a college term's fees, but then he tasted it. He supposed you could accept some luxuries having billionaire parents. “Is it the one with the pesto?”

Tony smirked. “Of course.” 

Once Tony was sure there was no way more lasagne could be consumed by Peter, he helped him back to bed. 

Peter refused to let him carry him back upstairs so they made a long, uncoordinated stumble back. He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed it, but he convinced Tony to go to bed too. He would have felt beyond guilty if his dad tried to sleep in the chair next to his bed all night like he’d done for nine hours already. If Peter needed him, he’d call. They were only down the hall. Peter must have repeated this three times before Tony finally accepted. He looked dead on his feet, arguably worse than Peter felt thanks to his healing kicking in. 

Tony left the door open, taking one last glance at Peter before shuffling off to his own room. Peter eventually sank back into bed, focusing on the beating in his chest, the feeling of a full stomach and the sound of long breaths. It didn’t take long to fall asleep. 

Peter woke with a gasp, swallowing down the cry on his lips before it had a chance to escape. 

He looked around for Morgan but she wasn’t there, just like in his dream. She was gone. Morgan was gone. 

He threw himself to his feet and almost dropped to his knees when he put weight on his injured foot. He hissed through clenched teeth, taking a second for the pain to become more bearable before pushing on. Using the wall for support, he hopped and shuffled to Morgan’s room across the hall, heart beating fast in his chest. 

It was still dark, and he had no idea what time it was, but it didn’t matter. He needed Morgan.

When he pushed the door to his sister's room open he found an empty bed. Terror seized him causing his breath to catch in his lungs until he remembered what Tony had said. She was sleeping in their bed. 

He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. She was okay. She was safe. Slowly, he dragged himself to Tony and Pepper's room. Their door was also slightly open so it made it easy for him to open it without being noticed. 

There, gently illuminated by the hallway light, was Morgan. She was tucked in between her parents in the middle of the bed and from here he could hear her steady heartbeat. 

He let out a breath, shoulders slumping with relief. She was okay. They all were. He hadn’t lost her. 

He kept his eyes on her a while longer, trying to match his breaths to hers. He wanted to pick her up and hold her close, but he couldn’t wake her. He didn’t want to disturb any of them after the ordeal they’d all been through. 

But he didn’t want to leave. Waking up alone in his bed was horrible. Even if he didn’t have another nightmare he needed to be close to his family. He wanted to crawl in beside Morgan, to feel her on one side and Tony on the other, but he knew there was no room for him. 

Resigned, he assessed the stray throw and decorative pillows strewn on the floor by Tony's side of the bed. It would do. 

Gingerly, he straightened the throw out and placed the comfiest-looking velvet cushion at the top. His injuries protested every movement, especially getting down to the floor. It took him a moment to adjust to the hard floor after the luxury of his bed all day. He closed his eyes, satisfied that the effort was worth it. He could hear his family next to him and that was all he needed. 

Getting a foot in his ribs should have roused Peter quicker in reality. He hadn’t thought about the consequences of sleeping on the floor beside Tony when he’d laid down, so he didn’t really mind that it had happened. He wished he could have ignored it and continued to doze but Tony’s yell of ‘Holy shit, Peter!’ sounded like he wouldn't get away with that. 

He squinted an eye open, turning his head to look up at Tony from where he was lying on his side. “Huh?” 

Tony looked horrified. “What the hell are you doing down there?” 

“Sleeping?” 

Pepper entered his view from over the bed and proceeded to let out a shocked gasp. “Peter, what were you thinking?” She was up and around to his side in seconds. She ushered him up so he was sitting, it looked like she wanted to do more, but Peter didn’t feel much like moving. “You’re hurt. You can't be sleeping on the floor like this.”  

Peter shrugged and winced. Maybe she had a point, he ached. “Carpets are comfier than you think.” 

“This isn’t funny. You could have really hurt yourself.” 

“I already did,” Peter tried lightly. He figured it wasn’t a time to joke judging from their stormy expressions. 

“Why aren’t you in your room?” Tony asked, gentler this time. 

Peter chewed the inside of his cheek and ducked his head bashfully. He didn’t think about this bit either. “Had a bad dream.” 

Pepper's frown turned instantly to sadness and somehow that was worse. “Oh, hon,” she murmured, pulling him into her side and hugging him gently. 

He looked up at Tony who had a heartbroken expression. “Why did you wake us?” 

“You needed sleep.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’re more important.”

He must have been tired because that frustrated him way more than usual. “Oh, so I can wake you up because I’m more important to you, but I can’t let you sleep because you’re more important to me?” 

Tony grimaced. “That’s parent privilege. Kids' needs come first, always. And you’re hurt. How long have you been there?” 

He shrugged again. “I didn’t check the time.” 

“We need to get you up. Will you moan at me if I carry you?” 

Peter shook his head knowing there was no way he could do it himself.

Tony once again exerted himself to pluck Peter off the floor and deposit him next to a still sleeping Morgan. It always amazed him how she could sleep through anything. Seeing the opportunity, he shuffled closer to her and pulled some of their quilt over him. He figured with this newfound warmth that his parents had a point. 

Wait. Parents? 

They weren’t… 

His brain short-circuited when he felt Tony and Pepper get back into bed on either side of them. It was as if any thought had melted away, replaced by such a ferocious feeling of love and safety. He was surrounded by his family. Next to his parents. 

He knew they’d never replace Mary or Richard or Ben or May, but they weren’t trying to. And he knew they’d be happy for him if they could see him now. Peter slept pretty great after that. 

“Pete?” 

Peter slid down the staircase, landing gracefully on his feet at the bottom. “Yeah?” 

Tony cringed. “You know I hate when you do that.” 

“Sorry,” he droned out. He wasn’t. 

It had been a week since he got the all clear from Helen and that paired with the last of his blood-thinning medication left him feeling invincible and desperate to get back out as Spider-Man. The only reason he hadn’t pushed was because of the broken look Tony gave him when he asked where he’d left the suit. He figured a few more days wouldn’t hurt. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m going out this afternoon. Pepper has a meeting with our suppliers and she wants me there.” 

Peter nodded, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. He took a bite turning back to his dad. “So Happy's coming over?” 

“No, Pete. Just you for a few hours.”

He tried and failed to keep the panic from rising. He stared at his dad, trying to find a crack in his demeanour to show he was joking. It took him a second to realise he still had a mouthful of apple and he swallowed painfully. “You’re serious?” 

“As a heart attack.” 

The joke didn’t help. “Oh,” he realised in a moment of clarity. “You’re taking Morgan with you?” 

Tony snorted. “No, Pete. She’d cause havoc. I need you to keep her occupied here.” 

Peter blanked. Tony wasn’t joking. He was seriously going to leave Morgan with him after everything that happened last time. “I… no. No, you should take her with you.” He tried to escape back up the stairs with the apple he totally didn’t want to eat now, but Tony caught his wrist. 

“Peter,” he pleaded, not letting go of Peter. 

Reluctantly, he turned around. “I can’t. You know I can’t.” 

“You can and that’s why it’s happening.” 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend why Tony would do this. “Take her to Happy, anyone. You know what happened last time.” Tony tugged him closer. He realised he was shaking. “I can’t look after her,” he croaked. 

Tony sighed, taking his face in both hands. “There’s no one I trust to look after her more than you.” 

“How can you say that?” 

“Because it’s true. No one could have protected her more than you did when the tsunami hit. No one could have tried harder to get her back. I will always trust you.” 

Peter shook his head again, trying desperately not to cry. “You shouldn’t,” he rasped over the lump in his throat. “I lost her.”

“You saved her. That’s how she remembers it.” He points at Morgan building something non-descript with her Lego set. “I’ve failed Morgan more times than I can count, but I love her enough to never stop trying. And I know you do too.” He leaned forward and kissed Peter's forehead. “Okay, Morgs!” He called from the hallway. “Gotta go, love you.” 

“Love you too!” Morgan shouted back with a smile. 

He patted Peter's shoulder one last time. “There’s twenty bucks on the side for pizza. Maybe try the zoo this time? Something inland?” He winked and headed out. 

Peter let himself smile, running a hand down his face. He hadn’t lost this. He never would.