Archive of Our Own ^beta

May knows what loss feels like. Knows what that huge hole in her heart feels like on a day to day basis, knows what it felt like the moment it was made and knows what it’ll feel like on the day she joins her sister again. But that’s the kind of loss that’s permanent, that’s forever, and the kind of loss that Peter is experiencing right now is more complicated.

They’re all experiencing it, sure. At different levels of pain and sadness and fear and determination, but Tony is Peter’s heart and Peter is Tony’s, so May knows that this kind of loss is hitting him in a very particular way. Because Tony isn’t dead, Tony is lost. And it isn’t the kind of loss that makes everyone give up, like a lost team member in a woe-begotten cave dive. No, Tony is one hundred percent findable. Tony is a bargaining chip, as far as they know, as far as they’re assuming, but they don’t own the time table here. They don’t have the upper hand. So this kind of loss, for a six-going on seven year old boy, isn’t really something any of them can comprehend.

So they try to rally around him. May doesn’t know when the hell they’re going home or what’s even happening inside Ben’s head, but she can tell he’s making plans that he isn’t quite ready to introduce her to yet. But she isn’t really worried about it right now, because she’s focusing on Peter, and she can tell Pepper is overwhelmed so May is glad they’re here to be able to take some of that time so Pepper doesn’t have to figure out how to juggle it all.

May can imagine what she’s going through more than she can what Peter’s going through. She knows Pepper is in love with Tony and never got to properly admit that to him, so May is sure her head is a storm with being unable to handle this situation and all its many layers. Pepper is usually in charge, easily and naturally, but this is something that’s knocked her off her game. May knows she loves Peter but she’s been struggling with what was right, and what was expected of her, what she needed to do and what Tony would want her to do. She’s being pulled in seventeen different directions and May is just glad they’re finally here so they can help.

But they don’t exactly know how to handle it, either. They keep waffling back and forth between trying to acknowledge and work through the situation and trying to make Peter’s life as normal as possible. But how are things normal when Tony isn’t here? Peter feels his absence in every moment and so do they. They’re living in his house and he isn’t there. Peter is sleeping alone in his room and hasn’t been in his own bed since they got here.

May understands wallowing, and she’s done it herself in the past and is doing it a bit now, too. But she doesn’t want Peter to fall into a depressive hole he can’t get himself out of. She can’t let that happen, and she knows how easy it is, especially with a sadness this deep and visceral.

But it’s difficult to figure out what’s right.

They don’t really talk about school coming up or Peter’s birthday, because those are events Tony should be here for, and she quickly learns that they should only bring Tony or the situation up when Peter does first. Otherwise he just gets sent into bouts of nervousness or sadness or anger, and she can always tell he’s fighting against it because that’s in his nature. He doesn’t want to cause problems, and he’s regretting his own emotions and reactions.

May sits on the bench next to Ben and watches as Peter climbs up the jungle gym on his own. There are a bunch of other kids at this park, and Happy is patrolling the perimeter like he doesn’t trust any of them, but Peter doesn’t seem to be trying to spark up any conversations. Usually he would, the little social butterfly, but he isn’t right now. May wasn’t sure if bringing him out among people was the right decision, but she and Ben decided that a little normal here and there would be a good balance, as long as he stayed safe.

“And he’s just causing himself more heartache,” she says, leaning into Ben’s space. “Trying to—moderate his emotions, apologizing because he thinks he’s too much for us—”

Ben pops another few pieces of caramel corn into his mouth, and holds the bag out towards her. “He’s never been great at feeling what he feels.”

“Because he’s a nervous little thing, thinking he’s a burden—”

“When he never could be,” Ben says, chewing.

May takes a couple pieces too, shaking her head. “I don’t know why he doesn’t understand that, even in normal times. I guess it’s just his need to put everybody else before himself, but right now he needs help and he just isn’t—sometimes he allows it, but most of the time—”

“He’s trying to manage it himself,” Ben says, and she sees him watching Peter like a hawk. Peter is at the top of the jungle gym now, turning one of the wheels back and forth. He isn’t smiling. “But that isn’t good or right for a little one like him. Never has been and it’s even less good now, with this situation.” He clicks his tongue and he’s clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. May is about to call him a hypocrite, but she doesn’t think that would help any, so she rubs his shoulder instead.

“We’ll just have to live and learn like we do,” she says, glancing up at Peter again. She perks up a little when she sees him with a group of three boys up there at the top of the jungle gym, next to the slide, and they seem to be talking about something. She clocks Happy watching closely, too, and she grabs another piece of caramel corn. “I wish we could take him to therapy.”

“We could.”

“I just think the whole process might traumatize him more,” May says. “And I don’t know if Tony would want it—”

“Tony would want us to help him and take care of him however we could,” Ben says. “And if that’s what we think might be helpful…”

May nods, glancing off at the traffic now across the field. It feels so different here than in New York, even though both places are so busy.

“Just another thing to think about and consider, honey,” Ben says, voice a little softer and measured now. He caresses her knee and sighs a little bit, himself, and she feels like they’ve had more to think about in the last couple days than they have in the last couple years. She’s gotten completely used to going to Tony for advice or just to hash things out, and she feels half lost without him. She still has Ben, of course, and the others, but she loves her relationship with Tony and the things he gets her to consider, the way he alters her vision of the world. She never would have imagined she’d have Tony Stark in her life, not ever, but now she does and he’s missing and she can hardly stand it.

It’s true, that you appreciate things more when they’re gone, and that feels dialed up to fifty right about now. She wants to watch videos of him and look at pictures and she wants to do the same for Peter, but she truly doesn’t know how either of them would react. She guesses it depends on the day, or the moment. Everything is walking on eggshells.

She feels like she’s close to crying most of the time, when she thinks about him, so once again, she can’t imagine how Peter feels. “I never really thought we’d have to miss him,” she says, quietly so her voice doesn’t carry. “You know, I—once we realized he wasn’t going anywhere, then he really wasn’t going anywhere, and the two of them—”

“I know.”

She feels like she’s repeating herself half the time, going round and round in her mind with how this happened and why it’s happening and what they could have done to deserve something like this. She tries to remind herself that he isn’t dead, he isn’t and they would know if he was, because Pepper and the company would know if he was, but it’s still—she wishes they would just find him. She wants to see him again, she wants to hear his voice again, in real time. She wants to see him kiss Peter’s face, the two of them laughing like they used to.

That all can’t be over. It can’t be and she refuses to even think it is.

Peter rushes up to them and startles her, because she hadn’t even realized he was off the jungle gym. She needs to stop drifting.

“What’s wrong, monkey?” Ben asks immediately, more tuned in than May is, and he’s off the bench and kneeling in front of Peter.

Peter’s eyes are a little teary and he rests one hand on May’s knee, the other grabbing at Ben’s arm. “I can go now,” he says, gently.

“Did something happen?” May asks, taking Peter’s cap off and brushing her hand through his hair.

He nods at her, which surprises her. He looks anxious and Happy comes striding over too, hands on his hips, and Peter looks back at him. They share a look and Happy tries to be reassuring, nodding at Peter.

“Let’s go,” Happy says, but he’s only looking at Ben.

That gives May pause. “What happened?” she asks him.

“I’m gonna go grab the car and I’d like you to come with me,” Happy says, and each word seems hand-picked and May feels like something is going on and it’s directed at her. She’s about to kneel down next to Peter like Ben is doing, but Ben picks him up into his arms. So she grabs the bag of caramel corn and stands too. She’s looking around even though she doesn’t know what the hell she’s looking for, and she feels nervous. Ben is already walking and Peter is resting on his shoulder and looking dejected.

“What happened?” May asks, tugging on his hand and putting his hat back on his head.

He looks at her. “Tell you in the car,” he says, and his eyes are shining with tears.

She wants to cry too, looking at him. She’s starting to almost figure it out, maybe the outline of it, and she tries to keep up with Ben’s big steps—usually she can, they’re so in-sync, but she feels out of it still, and even more now with something clearly happening. She kisses Peter’s hand and holds onto it. “Baby, if something happened—if someone said something bad to you, I know how I get, Peter, but I don’t—I won’t go yelling at somebody if you don’t want me to.” That has to be it. She feels like she’s going in the right direction.

She also feels like she’s lying.

He looks at her, his lower lip trembling. “I don’t think you would be able to stop from yelling,” he says.

And that worries her.

They get to the car a minute or so later, and May helps Ben get Peter into the big boy carseat. She rubs his arm when they’re done. “You can sit in the front,” she says. “I’ll sit back here with Peter.”

He gives her a look that says don’t push him and she nods at him, even though she feels the tendency to push. She closes Peter’s door and walks around to the other side, and feels like she’s gonna jump out of her skin as she’s putting the seatbelt on.

Happy turns on the music and starts to pull out of his space, and for a minute, May doesn’t think Peter is gonna tell them what happened.

When they get to the first light, he clears his throat.

“The kids at the park they were my same age and I didn’t know them but they were the same age as I am and went to another school but they know who I am and they know what’s happening to Daddy and they said—they said—they called me an orphan. I know what it means and they said what it means and they said I don’t have Mama anymore and I never had her and now I don’t have Daddy anymore either and I’m an orphan.” His lip trembles and he shakes his head and looks out the window.

May feels her entire face going hot, and the car is still for a moment with the weight of his words.

“Okay—” she says.

“I spoke to the parents,” Happy says. “Soon as I heard it. He didn’t even have to tell me, because I heard it, and I booked it over there.”

May feels like utter garbage because they didn’t hear it, and she doesn’t know how she missed Happy doing that and she wants to know what he said and what they said and she feels like throwing up.

“I know that I’m not so it’s okay,” Peter says, voice trembling. “Daddy isn’t dead because he’s not. Because I know he’s not, so. And I’d know because I’d be able to feel it because we are connected by invisible string.” He looks at her then and nods, and May nods too. She looks up and sees that Ben is twisted around trying to give Peter his attention, his face streaked with concern. “And it’s his heart to my heart and I still feel it and I still know he’s out there and I’d know if he wasn’t, so. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter—” May starts.

“It matters,” Ben says. “No one should be speaking to you like that—”

“And they’re wrong, just like you said,” May says, her own voice shaking. “They’re wrong, and they’re saying it to be hurtful—”

Peter reaches over and grabs her hand. “And I know Mama is always with me too anyways so they’re wrong about that too even.” He sniffles and squeezes her hand and wipes at his face with the back of his free one. “So yeah. It made me a little upset though and I didn’t wanna be there anymore and that’s why I wanted to leave because I didn’t wanna hear it again and I didn’t want any fights.”

“I wouldn’t fight if you didn’t want me to fight baby boy,” May says, holding his hand with both of her own.

“Maybe you can’t help it,” Peter says. “And that’s okay.”

May shakes her head and makes eye contact with Ben. Her heart hurts.

“I know I’m not an orphan,” Peter says, and he sounds a little more desperate. “I know I’m not I know I’m not, so. So.”

“They shouldn’t have said it, kid,” Happy says. “Like you said, it’s not true—”

“And it’s not their business,” Ben says. “Okay Pete? They shouldn’t be speaking to you about things they don’t understand—”

“And if they don’t have anything nice to say they shouldn’t be saying anything at all,” May says, and she wishes she would have gotten to say something to the parents, but she knows she would have flown off the handle because that’s how she gets, especially when it’s her family in question. She needs to keep it under control, but she’s burning with anger just hearing this.

“It’s okay,” Peter says, and he squeezes her hand before letting it go again. He clutches his hands together in his lap and May feels like they’re all at a loss for words. They know kids can be shitty sometimes, but this feels like too much, too horrible, especially considering how emotionally drained Peter has been lately.

“Honey,” May starts, not even knowing what she wants to say.

“Can I talk to Uncle Rhodey?” Peter asks, and he looks at each of them in turn. “I wanna. Talk to him about what he’s doing and where he’s looking and stuff. If I can talk to him on a video chat would be better.”

May’s already nodding before she realizes she’s doing it.

“Yeah,” Ben says, before anyone else. He pats Happy on the shoulder. “Yeah, right Hap? We can manage that?”

“Oh, definitely,” Happy says. “We can one hundred percent do that.”

~

Peter sits there between them as they wait for the call to go through—they’re streaming it onto a special device that Tony had that no one could hack into or listen to. They’ve got it propped up on the coffee table and May, Peter and Ben are on the floor in front of it, while Pepper and Happy are pacing the room. They’re making May nervous, though she doesn’t say that, but Peter doesn’t seem distracted, watching the screen as it tries to connect.

“Sometimes it takes a bit,” Pepper says, walking back over and checking the connections on the back of the device. She looks exhausted, and May worries. She doesn’t think anyone quite values her the way Tony does, and she doesn’t trust Obie with her or with the company. She knows the company was starting to feel like something distant to Tony, but it should be his to change and his to evolve, not anybody else’s.

Then the screen starts flashing with a new connection.

“Here’s something happening,” Ben says.

“Yeah,” Happy says. “That’s what it looks like when it—”

Rhodey suddenly appears on the screen, and he looks stoic at first, and tired, but then his face lights up when he sees Peter. May isn’t sure if he’s spoken to him yet, she hasn’t really asked, and she knows Peter has been in a few different moods lately, not exactly willing to do certain things, even if he wants to.

“There we go,” Happy says.

“Hey guys,” Rhodey says, smiling, and he looks like he’s outside, underneath some sort of tent, and May sees computers in the background on tables and men in fatigues running around. “Sorry, I didn’t get the notification at first. How we doing? How we doing, Petey? You alright?”

“Hi Uncle Rhodey,” Peter says, smiling softly.

“Hey buddy,” Rhodey says. “You okay?”

May can tell he’s worried, and she rubs Peter’s back.

“Um, um, I’m sorry we haven’t really talked more than the one or two times,” Peter says, clutching his hands in his lap. “Just sometimes it’s hard—”

“No, no, Pete, hey,” Rhodey says, and he scoots a little closer to the screen. “Hey, it’s fine, okay? It’s fine! This is a hard situation and I know it’s a lot to deal with for you, it is for me too, and your aunt and uncle there, and Pepper and Happy, and we’re all dealing with it in our own ways.”

“Ah huh.”

“So don’t apologize for anything,” Rhodey says. “Okay? You don’t need to do that.”

Peter nods, but he looks like he’s getting nervous, turning in on himself a little bit. May knows he needs some reassurance from Rhodey, though, whether he’s got the nerve to ask himself or not. And May knows Rhodey will know what to say. She doesn’t want to be pushy but she wants Peter to get what he called for, and she exchanges a quick look with Ben before she speaks up. She can still hear Pepper and Happy in the background, and they seem to be whispering to each other.

“Rhodey,” May says. “Peter was...wondering how things were going, right, baby?” she asks, looking down at Peter.

“Yes,” Peter says, gently. “I, um, wanted to know how you—how you are thinking, uh—how you are feeling—”

Rhodey glances up above their heads, and May thinks he can probably see Pepper and Happy standing there, and for a moment, she’s worrying about how he falters. But then he nods, looks at something off screen for a second, and he leans forward again.

“Pete,” he says. “We have a wide range of land to cover. But we’re checking all travel in and out of the area where the attack happened, we have information from different sects and groups that we wouldn’t have gotten in any official capacity. We have a lot of leads and a lot more places to search, more people to make contact with, more maps to comb over, more grids to mark. We have a lot of technology that’s advancing our search in ways that someone else wouldn’t have.”

Peter nods, breathing a little unsteadily through his mouth.

“All of that sounds good, bud,” Ben says, brushing Peter’s hair back. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Peter says.

“We’ve got tons of people out here with me, Pete,” Rhodey says. “Everybody’s helping.”

Peter nods again. “But what do you—what do you think, Uncle Rhodey, as Daddy’s—as his best friend ever since forever. What do you think?”

Rhodey looks at him for a long second, and then he looks at Ben and May too. May was confident he wouldn’t say anything that would upset Peter, because he’s always been so good with him, so good with most people and knowing exactly what to say, but this situation is so delicate, and for a moment, she’s afraid.

But then Rhodey starts talking.

“I know that he’s still out there,” Rhodey says. “I know that I’m searching high and low and I won’t start searching til I’m holding onto him again. I know that I’m doing every single thing possible to find your dad, Pete, and some things that are impossible, and I’m not gonna stop. That’s what I know.”

Peter keeps nodding, and his eyes are tears and big as he leans forward too, little hands reaching for the screen. “So you think he’s—so you think—”

“I am one hundred percent sure he’s alive,” Rhodey says. “Yeah, Bud. I know he is. And I wouldn’t say that if I wasn’t sure but we’d know if anything was otherwise, okay? I don’t want to scare you, but we’d know, and we don’t have any information pointing in that direction.”

“Okay,” Peter says, as May rubs his shoulder. “Okay okay.”

“I will find him,” Rhodey says. “I promise you that. Your dad’s coming back to you, Peter, that’s all there is to it. I’m sorry if it takes too long, I’m frustrated with how long it’s taking, too, but just know that I’m not gonna stop til he’s back there with you in his arms, okay? You hear me, kid?”

“Yes,” Peter says, and he smiles softly. “Yes I hear you. Okay.”

“I promise,” Rhodey says. “I’m gonna find him. And I’m gonna bring him back.”