Chapter Text
Pepper Potts’ house ceased to feel like a home a long time ago. The moment she walked out the front door carrying ‘Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart’, when she made it back inside, there was a yawning emptiness that never let up. And everywhere she looks, there’s more nothing. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff. And she knows the Avengers feel it, too, the aches in their lives where their teammates, their family, used to reside. She kept up with the news on Westview and understands every decision Wanda Maximoff made. If she had the woman’s power, she would have done the same. After Morgan’s birthday, Pepper puts up pictures, trying to fill in the cracks that line the wall in the most tragic metaphorical sense. The walls of this house are littered with every picture of Tony she could find. There he is with Steve, with Natasha, with Bruce and Clint and Thor and all the strays he picked up along the way. Except… except something is missing.
There’s a picture of Tony missing. She knows this so certainly with every fiber of her being. She put all the pictures away after the funeral, but she memorized where each of them went. And now there’s one missing. The one that would have gone on his desk, right besides Tony holding Morgan the day she was born, which means it meant the world to her late husband. She’s so used to emptiness at this point, she knows it like an old lover, except this time it feels different. Like it’s not missing really, just disguised? Clouded?
Redacted.
That’s the word Pepper keeps coming back to as she waits for Peter Parker to pick up her call.
“Hi, Mrs. Potts!” his voice finally answers, winded.
“Hi, Peter, I know it’s kind of last minute, but I completely forgot I had an evening meeting tonight. Morgan insisted I ask you first before her usual sitter. Would you be able to watch her at 5? I’m not sure when I’d be home, but I’ll pay you extra for the last minute call.”
“Oh, I…”
“Mama, when is Peter getting here?” Morgan asks, walking out onto the porch with her “vintage” Pokemon cards.
“Mama’s on the phone with him right now, sweetie,” she says, reaching a hand out to hold her daughter close. “Please, Peter?”
“Yeah,” he breathes, “I mean, okay, ma’am. I’d… I’d love to.”
“Thank you so much, Peter. Morgan hasn’t stopped asking about you since her birthday.”
“She’s so good. 5 pm?”
“Yes, I can call you a cab, or send my… right hand, Happy, to pick you up?” There’s a pause so long she thinks the call got dropped. Then,
“No. It’s okay, I wouldn’t want Mr. Hogan to go out of his way-“ His voice shakes as he protests, it strikes a weird maternal chord in her.
“It’s the least I can do, and it’s his job.”
“I insist, Mrs. Potts. I’ll find my way.” He’s more resolved now.
“… Okay, sure. Then I’ll make sure dinner is delivered to the house. Thank you again-“ Redacted. “-Peter.”
The doorbell rings exactly at 5. Peter Parker stands there, though he doesn’t meet Pepper’s gaze right on. His hair is disheveled and, when they finally flit to hers, his eyes…
“Good evening, Mrs. Potts,” he says, voice shaking, “I’m not late, am I?”
“No, Peter, you’re right on time.” She steps out of the doorway to let him in. His backpack is stuffed full and his hands drum against his thighs.
“I brought legos. And my GED book, if that’s alright.”
“Of course. Morgan’s bedtime is 8pm, and I should be back around… 10? You’ll have plenty of time to study.” Why aren’t you in school? she wants to ask, like she wanted to ask the Howards when getting his contact information.
“That’s perfect.” His smile is so genuine, she wonders where kids like him were when she was in high school.
“I’ll send an extra large pizza to the house at 6. Do you want any toppings?”
“Um… I don’t… do they have the one with… well it’s kind of like ground beef with extra cheese?” His gaze darts away again, looking out the front window onto the dock.
“Cheeseburger pizza?”
He ducks his head, scratches at the back of his neck. There’s red on his knuckles. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“It’s Morgan’s favorite. She’ll be thrilled.”
His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, “Mr. Stark’s, too.”
Pepper is saved from having to push by tiny feet racing down the stairs.
“Spiderman!” the 6 year old shouts, launching herself off the bottom stairs. Pepper assumes the jump is for her, but then Peter’s there, catching her. The walls she could feel him putting up come crumbling down. Pepper blinks, sees Peter walking away from the party until he’s not. Pepper is confident she’s never seen this before, but maybe something like it?
“Hi, Morgan,” he laughs, “I brought legos.”
“Can we play Pokemon cards?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course we can, kid.”
“Yay!” She squirms and he sets her down, and she races back up stairs for her cards. When he turns back towards Pepper, he’s beaming.
“Spiderman? She called you that at her birthday, too,” Pepper prods, and he just blinks for a moment.
“Yeah, I just… climb trees really well, I guess.”
Redacted.
Morgan’s footsteps thunder overhead. Pepper glances up, smiling. Feels him watching her. “She has a lot of Pokemon cards. Tony just would not stop buying them for her.” She looks back down at her watch, then back at him. He’s still watching. His eyes… “Okay, I should get going. All of the numbers you could ever need and more are on the fridge. And her bedtime routine. Thank you so much again.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
He and Morgan walk her out, standing on the front porch as she gets into the back of the car pulling up.
“That kid sure looks familiar,” Happy muses from the driver’s seat.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Pepper glances down at her phone. It has so much storage space most people wouldn’t even know what to do with themselves. She never has to delete photos. The count hasn’t changed. Much. But she knows one morning she woke up, and there were less.
There’s pictures of Tony missing. She’s leaving her daughter with someone she only knows through testimonials, through the short blurb written under his position at Daily Bugle.
It should terrify her.
And yet.
She turns her head, staring through the back window. Peter sweeps a gentle arm around Morgan, guides her back inside. She has to look away before the sudden rush of tears spill over.
And yet.