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Chapter Text

Everything was slipping through his fingers.

First Pepper, then Steve, and now half of the Avengers… what was next? Everyone else? The whole world? Himself?

Scratch that, Tony was already falling apart. Had been for years.

But this might be the thing that finally did him in.

Tony grabbed his arm as pain laced through his chest. No. He had to stay focused. He couldn't have a panic attack right now. There was still a chance this would be okay, that he could salvage this. He just had to find Steve and convince him to sign the Accords.

Somehow.

Around him, there was a flurry of movement–superheroes, military, politicians–all on their way to win. Not to protect. Just win.

And that was not what this was about. Tony wasn't just trying to protect the world, but the Avengers, too–everyone he cared about, the people he called family… he was trying to protect them. Sure, the cards they'd been dealt were shitty, Tony could agree with Steve on that. But fighting wasn't going to solve this, winning wasn't going to solve this.

Yet no one seemed to understand that.

Not even the great Captain America.

One of the screens switched to a news station. At first, Tony paid it no attention, still trying to sort through his torrent of thoughts. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. A figure, swinging through the grainy frame, holding onto a single string.

Hm. Now that was interesting.

Switching his attention to the screen, Tony watched the footage intently. Even through the chaos, Tony could hear the reporter's words as the mysterious individual landed in front of a kid, stopping a thrown car with just one hand. "The superhero known as Spider-Woman has once again protected the citizens of Queens…"

"Tony?" Rhodey was beside him, arms crossed and face serious. Ready to throw down. To fight. To win. "What's the plan?"

"...selflessly fought against a criminal, tried to compromise…"

"Tony?"

"...protect…"

"Tony!" Rhodey snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hey! Earth to Tony! You in there?" 

Sometimes I wonder, he thought, but switched his attention to his friend anyway. Rhodey was staring at him with that quiet kind of worry, the kind that handled him like he was a fragile toy about to shatter into a million pieces.

But broken was the last thing Tony needed to be right now.

"What's got your panties in a twist, platypus?" He adjusted his cuff links, putting forward the I could buy you careless air, the one that had carried him through so many situations just like this.

"You know damn well what I'm worried about." Rhodey crossed his arms. "Ross gave us our time limit. Steve isn't going to cooperate. What the hell are we going to do?"

Good question.

What was he going to do?

Tony glanced back at the screen, replaying the footage of the so called Spider-Woman. She leapt into the flames of a fire, just to return moments later with people slung over her shoulders. Then, she turned and headed back in, appearing with a child tucked against her chest. Then she went back in… again and again and again.

That was what he needed: that conviction, that resolution, that need to protect.

Tony needed someone like that kid.

And suddenly, a plan began to fall into place.

"FRIDAY, find all footage on that superhero," Tony said, pointing at the screen.

His watch beeped in affirmation. "On it, boss."

"Who?" Rhodey followed his gaze and squinted at the screen. "That scrawny kid? Seriously, Tones?"

"She might just be what we need." Tony strode towards the door, determination burning like the arc reactor that once rested in his chest. "FRIDAY, tell Happy to fire up a jet. I have a friend in Queens I need to meet."

***

By all accounts, Morgan was strong.

She'd always been tough, but the spider-bite had heightened her abilities to... well, superhuman standards. Which was weird and a bit worrying, but you know what, she wasn't going to complain about it.

After all, it meant she could help people.

Drag them out of fires, pull them from car wrecks, save their cat from the tree... it didn't matter. Whatever it was the people of Queens needed, Morgan could provide it.

And she loved it, she really did!

...But it did come with some drawbacks.

Namely, the amount of cars that got thrown at her face.

Morgan had raced into the street to usher the kid there to safety, only for her spider-sense to scream at her to turn around, and.

Well.

There was a car flying at her face.

Again.

Of fucking course.

Morgan jerked her hand up just in time to catch the car, the metal twisting around her fingers with a sickening screech. Her heels dug into the asphalt as the kid behind her cried out in fear.

Alright, throwing a car at her was one thing. She dealt with that at least twice a week.

But a kid?

Hell no.

Not in her Queens.

"Hey, what the hell, man!" Morgan set the car to the side, shaking out her aching hand. "Not cool!" 

The wannabe super villain cackled, the machinery encapsulating his arms pulsing an acidic green. "Oh, but just you wait, Spider-Woman! That was only a taste of my power! Soon, this whole city will fall to its knees around me!" He picked up a truck with a cackle."Now: behold my power!"

"Nope, not happening." Morgan scooped the kid up, webslinging away from the flying truck. "Come on, kid, let's ditch this party!"

The kid's fear was quickly forgotten as they swung through the New York air, the wind ruffling his hair as a soft gasp of awe left his lips. Morgan grinned behind her mask, pride blooming in her chest.

No matter how many people she saved, Morgan could never not love the thrill of helping someone.

It made all the cuts, bruises, and late night tears worth it.

Morgan landed on the sidewalk, setting the kid down on the sidewalk. "You good?"

"That was so cool!" The boy chirped, all wide eyes and vibrating joy. "Can we do that again?"

"Maybe once I kick this guy's ass." She knelt down, scanning his limbs for any injuries. "Where are your parents–"

"Max!"

"...and there they are." Morgan stepped to the side, allowing the mother to sweep the kid into her arms. The father was just a step behind, practically crushing them both in his arms.

Tears welled in Morgan's eyes, hot and sharp.

The father looked just like Uncle Ben.

Except he didn't have as many smile lines, or any freckles they could draw constellations from, and–

Another car smashed into the street.

Morgan blinked away the grief.

It was fine. She was fine. She had to be fine.

She had people to save, after all.

It was the least she could do for Uncle Ben.

"Get to safety," she told the teary-eyed parents sternly before racing back into the battlefield.

She could–no, she would do this.

She had to.

I have to.

Her spider-sense roared as soon as she stepped foot on the cracked asphalt. She caught a lamppost, thrown like a javelin, with a sigh. "Seriously, man? What are you trying to accomplish here?" Morgan spun the metal pole in her hands. "This is just ridiculous."

"That's what they all said! They called me insane! I was the laughing stock of the town!" The criminal raged, his face as red as May's burned onions. "But I'll show them! I'll show them all!" 

"Wow, you really got the whole villain act down, huh?" She hefted the lamppost in her hands. "Well, I got bad news for you–I got the whole hero act down, too." 

Morgan wound back and threw the lamppost.

He tried to dodge out of the way, but it still clipped his shoulder. The criminal stumbled back, crying out as part of his machinery was dislodged, fizzling out with a sad whir.

"No, no, no! Not yet!" He screamed as Morgan stalked forward, rolling her shoulders. "It wasn't supposed to go like this!" 

"Yeah." Morgan raised her fist. "That's what they all say." 

Her fist cracked across his jaw and the man dropped like a bag of rocks. Morgan dusted off her hands, admiring her handiwork as sirens pierced the air.

Right on time.

"Hey, Captain." Morgan gave George Stacy a lazy salute as he clambered out of his car. "Rough day at work?"

"Yep," He sighed, coming to stand beside her. "This the troublemaker?"

"Yeah. I'm guessing it's the same thing as last week. He was in over his head, got a hold of some weird tech, made some sketchy deals, etcetera, etcetera." Two officers dragged the criminal upright and cuffed him. By the looks on their faces, it had been a three-coffee kind of day. "There haven't been any more of these guys, right?" 

"I wish. We just finished rounding up another one." Stacy ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "He put up one hell of a fight." 

"Damn. Sorry I wasn't over there." 

"You can't be in two places at once, kid."

"Still feel bad."

Stacy clapped her shoulder. "You did good, keeping this one contained. It would have been a lot worse if both had gone crazy at once."

Morgan glanced around the scene (which was only mildly ripped apart) and sighed. "I guess so."

"Take the compliment, kid. You don't get a lot of wins in this line of work." Stacy turned back to his car, waving a farewell. "Now get your ass to school before I have to arrest you, too."

"Ha-ha, so funny. Hilarious." Morgan tried to deepen her voice (which failed miserably, but she had to try). "But I'm not a kid!"

Stacy just flipped the bird over his shoulder.

Morgan groaned.

Whatever. It was fine. It's not like Stacy knew who she was, anyway. Just some kid in a suit with some weird powers. It was fine.

Probably.

Dispelling the anxious thoughts, Morgan flicked her wrist and shot out a web. With a whoop, she swung up into the sky. 

Queens blurred around her as the whole world stilled for just a moment. She hung in the air, weightless as a feather–then... she was falling. The street rushed up beneath her, her toes brushing the pavement below. She arced through the street, heart soaring the whole way through.

This was how she wanted to live.

But then–like always–reality smacked her right in the face. Morgan's phone buzzed and she swore, changing direction so sharply she startled some birds off their flight path.

"May's gonna kill me," Morgan muttered as she landed in the bushes beside Midtown. She tore her backpack out of its hiding place and dug out her spare clothes, but without the time or a place to change, she was going to have to make do. She yanked off her mask, tossed it in her bag, and zipped it shut. Throwing on the sweatshirt and pants, Morgan stumbled out of the bush with her shoes half-on, looking like a certifiable mess.

But it would have to do, because her watch buzzed again.

"Shit, shit, shit!" She raced inside, her heart pumping as she sprinted down the empty hall. "Wait–!"

Morgan crashed through the door right as the bell rang. "I'm here! I'm here, I swear! I'm not late!" 

Her teacher didn't even look up, just flicked through her stack of papers. "Then prove it and sit in your seat."

"Yes, ma'am," she murmured, ducking her head down as she hurried to her seat.

And then she tripped over a foot that definitely wasn't there two seconds ago, knocking a girl's soda off her desk. It spilled all over Morgan's sneakers and seeped through the holes into her toes.

Morgan scowled as Flash snickered.

What ya gonna do? he mouthed, eyes glinting with malice.

She just gave him the middle finger.

Dropping her backpack the floor, Morgan collapsed into her seat as the teacher began the lesson. She let out an exhausted sigh, desperately wishing for a coffee right about now. Maybe she could swing by that new place after school…?

A pencil poked her arm. "Hey."

Morgan ignored the poke, opting to watch the teacher draw something on the board.

But the pencil merely jabbed her arm harder.

"Don't ignore me," Lily hissed.

"I'm trying not to get us detention again," Morgan shot back, her heart twisting at the lie.

"She's as deaf as a dinosaur. We're fine."

Morgan groaned. "Lily…"

"Nuh-uh. None of that." The pencil dug more aggressively into her arm. "Where were you?" 

"Got caught up in traffic," Morgan lied, turning to grab her notebook so Lily couldn't see the grimace on her face.

Lily didn't buy it, because of course she didn't. After all, every aspiring journalist needed to have a bullshit detector. It was just part of the job.

Lily abandoned the pencil entirely and went straight to grabbing Morgan's arm. Although Morgan could have easily broken out of her grip, she allowed Lily to spin her around and glare at her. 

"Don't lie to me." Her hazel eyes were narrow slits as wispy strawberry-blonde hair framed her face. "I know you, which means I know when you're lying. And you are."

The hurt desperation in her voice made Morgan wince, and for a moment, she considered telling Lily the truth.

But then she remembered: Ben, the thrown cars, the pain.

She couldn't drag her best friend into all of that.

"Come on, Lil, can't you drop it?" Morgan eased her friend's hand away from her arm, stomach churning all the while. "I promise I have a good reason. I just… can't tell you yet."

Grief flashed across Lily's face. "But why not?" The betrayed note in her voice made Morgan's heart drop. "I'm your best friend."

"I–"

"Excuse me, ladies! Are you paying attention?"

They both snapped to attention, pivoting in their seats to face the teacher. "Yes, ma'am!" 

"Good." The teacher hobbled back to the board, her monotone voice drawling through the rest of the lesson. Morgan did her best to pay attention, scribbling down notes every so often.

But that was hard to do when Lily's gaze was burning into her back.

It's fine. It's worth it. She sketched out the face of the boy she saved–Max, right?–as she gnawed on her lips. It's all worth it if I get to help people. It's not like she knows.

As long as no one knows, I'll be fine.

No one else has to get hurt.

I can save everyone.

A phone chirped, then another, and another. The teacher tried to scold the students, but people were already talking in low murmurs, eyes wide and postures tense.

Lily exhaled, sharp and stressed. "Shit."

"What?" Morgan craned to see what she was looking at.

"The Avengers are fighting."

"Well, shit," Morgan agreed. "That's not good."

...Maybe I can save everyone.

Another alert pinged on Lily's phone.

"Due to the likelihood of a fight breaking out between these super powered individuals, and based on the amount of Avengers-based events that have taken place here, we strongly encourage all citizens of New York to return to their homes and–oh, for crying out loud, they're treating it like we're gonna have a hurricane or something!"

Morgan pulled out her own phone, wincing as the first thing that popped up was a video of the Avengers taking down an entire alien army.

"I mean... they kind of are." She swallowed. "They're literally like, the saviors of the world. But if things go wrong..."

Who's gonna save them?

***

May stumbled up the stairs, her legs screaming in pain. As much as she loved being a nurse with her whole soul, the crashes afterwards were not fun.

With a sigh, she unlocked the door to her apartment. "Home sweet home," she muttered, slipping off her shoes. "Now, where's the food...?"

May walked into the kitchen, looked at the dishes in the sink, and decided she was just done with today. Screw social norms, today called for special measures. Kicking her purse into her room, May slunk into the kitchen and started digging through the freezer. Oh, she really hoped Morgan hadn't eaten the last of the ice cream…

Knock-knock-knock!

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

Knock-knock-knock!

Would they go away if she just ignored them long enough?

Knock-knock-knock!

Apparently not.

May crossed the room to the door, dragging in a deep breath. It was fine. It was fine. It was fine. It was probably just Mr. Heinz again, fretting about whether or not he remembered to feed his pet platypus. She could deal with that without murdering anyone. She was completely, utterly, perfectly fine.

Plastering on a smile, May threw open the door. "Hi, what can I do for–"

The words died in her throat as the visitor spun around to face her.

"...you," May finished. "What are you…?"

Tony Stark swiped off his sunglasses and flashed her a smile. "I didn't interrupt something, did I?"

Other than May's plans to sit with a tub of ice cream and watch horrible movies until her feet stopped aching? "No, not at all." May shook her head, trying to jump start her mind back into motion. "Why are you… here?" At my little apartment? In my life? Just in general?

"The grant?" Stark raised an eyebrow as May just stared at him blankly. "Hm. Seems like we have some details to discuss. Morgan's not here yet, right?"

"N-no." May could do nothing but watch as Stark waltz into her home as if he owned the place. He might, for all she knew. "How… how do you know that?"

"I know a lot of things," he said vaguely, glancing around their small apartment. "Hey, do you mind if I have some of that bread? I'm absolutely famished."

"Oh, sure. Go ahead." May closed the door, taking a moment to lean her head against it. What the hell. What the hell. What the hell. "Um. You mentioned a grant?"

"Yep." The word was a bit garbled, no doubt said around a mouthful of bread. "Wow, this is excellent. Did you make this yourself?"

"It's an easy recipe." She brushed off the compliment as best as she could. It was fine. Everything was still fine. She was fine. Everything was fucking fine.

...who was she kidding, she was not fine.

But life still kept going, and so May had to roll along with it.

Recollecting herself, she entered the living room with cautious steps. Don't freak out. "Did… did Morgan apply for this… grant?"

"And passed with flying colors." Stark dusted off his fingers. "Here, I'm gonna sit down. You should, too."

May tentatively sat down on her couch as Mr. Stark lowered himself down, inhaling slightly. Alarms blared off in her head as she honed in on quick slip-up, and, sure enough, her suspicions were correct. Mr. Stark winced slightly at every movement, his eyes tightening in pain. And to top it all off, there was a deep bruise blossoming around his eyes, though it was mitigated somewhat with make-up. Where and why had he gotten those injuries?

And was he bringing that trouble to her niece?

"Why–" May cleared her throat, trying to cover her cracking voice. "Why was Morgan chosen?"

Mr. Stark waved a hand in the air. "She's smart, hardworking, a nice person, all that good stuff. Can I have another piece?"

May pushed the whole plate over to him. "I know she is, but her grades–"

"Aren't the best?" He dismissed the thought with another wave of hand (but this time with a piece of bread in his fingers). "About 90% of the people I work with either dropped out of high school or were trained in a secret Russian facility meant to build killing machines. Grades aren't exactly a priority here."

That was… comforting. Maybe. Kind of. May wasn't exactly sure what she was feeling. "I see. I just.. I just thought since Morgan has applied to other scholarships and hasn't qualified because of her grades…"

"No one should be judged about something like that," Stark remarked, polishing off a third piece of the date loaf. "Especially if their aunt can make something as delicious as this."

May managed a strained smile. She was a nurse–she knew misdirection when she saw it. And Stark was dealing out stacks of that. "How exactly did you choose Morgan, then?"

That finally got his attention. Stark faced her head-on, face stony as his eyes locked onto hers. May swallowed at the intense gaze, but didn't look away. She stared right back and refused to move.

If this man was here to harm Morgan, then he had better be aware she would rain down hellfire if he so much even took a step towards her.

Nothing was going to hurt her niece today.

Not even Iron Man.

"I'm not here to hurt Morgan," Stark finally said, his voice stripped of all grandiose and sarcasm. His eyes met hers, unwavering and sure. "I do want to help her."

May was a little taken aback at the blunt honesty. Still, she had to make sure. "Sorry, but I can't help but be a little suspicious about all this." And though she felt jittery to her bones, May leveled a glare at him, the one she reserved for only the most uncooperative of patients. "And I will protect my ward, no matter what."

Mr. Stark sat back, raising his hands in surrender. "Hey, I get it. I know I can tend to be a little… dramatic, but I promise I have no ulterior motives. Nothing. Nada. Zilch." He grinned. "So. Do you wanna learn more about the grant?"

May sighed, running a tired hand through her hair. "Oh, alright. I'll bite. What exactly does this grant entail?"

Mr. Stark smirked. "I'm glad you asked."

Chapter Text

"Stay still!" Lily's lips pinched in a frown as she pinned back Morgan's hair. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Morgan grit her teeth as Lily's fingers brushed her tender skin. "Please."

"Then stay still." Lily crouched down to Morgan's level, eyes flicking over Morgan's face. Her hands brushed back a few strands of hair, exposing the bruise. "Damn, he got you good."

"How embarrassing for me," Morgan drawled, wincing as Lily touched the blossoming bruise on her cheek. How was it she could walk away from a fight with a criminal without so much as a scratch, but the minute she went up against Flash, she was covered in bruises? "Can you cover it up?"

"I can make it look better." Lily fussed with her purse, pulling out containers of sketchy-looking powder.

"Lily, if May sees this, she's gonna panic. And then I'm going to panic. And then–"

"Relax." Lily flicked out her make-up brush. "Just say that… I don't know, you walked into a locker or something." She started pounding at Morgan's cheek, hazel eyes shimmering with mirth. "Or a glass door while reading a book! Now that's a story she'll buy."

"That was one time," Morgan grumbled.

"It was still hilarious." Lily stepped back to sift through her kit. "Now, where is…?"

Morgan tuned out Lily's quiet mutters, opting to stand and stretch her legs. However, Morgan winced as she caught sight of the bruise blooming across her cheek.

Even with her Spider-Sense, she hadn't been quite fast enough to dodge Flash's punch. She had been a bit distracted by the whole, you know, trying to get Lily away from the bullies. With the chaos of everyone heading home early, it had made it easy for Flash and his gang to corner them, and... well.

That was where the bruise came in.

And while Morgan's healing factor was handy and all, it still couldn't clean up the remains of the bruise before she got back to her apartment. So here she was, trying to cover it up like some sort of trouble making teenager that stressed their guardians into insanity.

Yeah, this day was going just great.

Her eyes flicked up and down the rest of her reflection. Morgan looked… tired. Her hoodie was torn and muddied, brown hair tumbling down her back in frizzy waves. Her skin was pale in the shaky bathroom light, with her eyes dark and dull... Morgan looked exhausted.

And she was. She really was. But she couldn't stop, not now. Too many people were counting on Spider-Woman now to retire the mask. She needed to help people, no matter what happened. Even if it meant being late to school, even if it meant patching up injuries by herself, even if it meant getting beat up by Flash; it was too important to stop.

Morgan had to protect everyone.

"Ah-ha! Found it." Lily whipped out another tube of make-up. "Sit back down and let me work my magic."

Morgan pursed her lips as Lily attacked the tender bruise. "Do you think May… will notice?"

"Well, yeah, she'll notice," Lily said, nose scrunched in concentration. "But it shouldn't look too bad–"

"No. I mean." Morgan pointed at herself. "Me."

Lily paused, her brush slowing to a stop. She tilted her head, gears shifting behind her cautious gaze. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just look…" Hurt. Sad. Alone. "...tired."

Lily sat back on her heels, eyes slowly tracing Morgan's face. Inch by inch, piece by piece, and Morgan… Morgan felt exposed, vulnerable, but she didn't back down.

This was Lily. Her best friend in the whole world. There was nothing to be afraid of.

(But what if you can't save her, too?)

Lily huffed, shaking Morgan out of her thoughts. "You… do," Lily finally admitted. "Look tired, I mean. But… I don't know. You seem… happier."

Well, that tracked. Yeah, life still sucked, but Morgan wasn't helpless anymore. She could help people now. It was no surprise that had impacted her mood.

Still, Morgan fiddled with her nails, biting her lip, nervous because all of this would also impact May. May, the woman who had taken her in when she had no one. May, the one who cared for her when no one else did. May, who deserved so much more than this.

May, who Morgan really didn't want to disappoint, because she'd already let down Ben. 

She'd be damned if she let down May, too.

"Do you think May will notice?" Morgan whispered, almost to afraid to speak her fear. "Do you think it'll stress her out?"

Lily was silent for a moment, applying a touch more make-up to her bruise. Then, "Stay there."

Morgan sat still as Lily grabbed a pink brush covered in stickers and fake gems. Taking Morgan's hair in one hand, Lily started to work her way through the knotted waves. She picked out leaves and dirt, her hands delicate but firm, an experienced warrior's dance.

Then, with all the efficiency of a businesswoman, Lily wove Morgan's waves into a slim braid. She smoothed down the last few wisps, smiled, and squeezed Morgan's shoulders.

"There. How does that look?"

Morgan looked at herself in the mirror. She looked… more put together. Still tired, but there was more there than just bone-deep exhaustion.

"Thank you." Morgan reached up and squeezed her hand. "Really. I… I really don't want to worry May."

"I know." Lily sighed, running her thumb over Morgan's hand. "But… Morgan. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want you to die like Uncle Ben. I don't want you to hate me, too.

"I know."

"Are you sure?" Even in the mirror, Lily's eyes seemed to cut right through Morgan, spotting everything in her heart she didn't let anyone see. "Because I know something is going on with you. You won't tell me what, but I know you. Something's happening. And I… I want to help. Whatever it is. I want to help you."

Morgan swallowed, blinking away the sudden tears in her eyes. "I know. I know, Lil." Carefully, she leaned backwards, resting her head against Lily's stomach. "I just… I can't tell you yet. I'm not ready." I'm still too scared. "Just… give me some time, okay?" I don't want things to end like they did with Ben. "I promise. I'll tell you." I just need to be sure I won't lose you, too.

"Alright." Lily wrapped her arms around Morgan. "Be safe, Morgan. Please."

"I will." She leaned into the embrace, closing her eyes. Lily smelled of flowers and kindness, of home and safety. Morgan didn't really like hugs, but… Lily was the exception. (She always was.) "I will."

But I still have so much work to do.

***

After dropping Lily off at her apartment, Morgan headed home. Although Lily's make-over had boosted her mood a little bit, Morgan was still completely and utterly done today. She was looking forward to a movie marathon with ice cream as she walked down her street.

Brushing past the weirdly fancy car parked in front (some neighbors must have their insanely rich relatives over again) she entered the apartment building. Though she could hear the neighbors moving around in their own rooms, the building was empty of any excruciating loud noises, thank goodness. It was about time she got a stroke of good luck. Anxious to get home before anything else went wrong, she took the stairs two at a time.

Finally, she reached the apartment door, the paint worn and faded. She quickly unlocked it and stepped inside with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, May, I'm home!" Morgan tossed her backpack on an empty chair, bee-lining right to the fridge.

"Hey, sweetie, how was your day?"

"Awful." She opened the fridge, searching for some sort of sustainable food. Ugh, this super metabolism was going to kill her. "Hey, do you think we can just watch terrible movies and eat ice cream tonight?"

"I'm sure we can figure something out, honey," May said, which was basically her polite way of please for the love of everything, yes.

"Great." Morgan closed the fridge, floating back to her backpack to dig through the messy contents and sighed. "And I know I have a lot of homework, but after…" She bit into the apple, frowning slightly. 

Wait a second.

She hadn't heard it at first, but it was there was… another heartbeat, right next to May's. And it wasn't one she recognized, either.

Since when does May invite anyone over? And without telling me?  

"Yeah, we can watch after," May replied, finishing Morgan's sentence, but now… now Morgan could hear the strain in her voice. The stress, the worry, the fear.

I can't lose you, too.

Morgan tensed, suddenly well aware her back was turned towards the stranger, open and vulnerable. She subtly set down her apple and felt the coat rack for the spare baseball bat. "Hey, um, do we have anyone over?

"She has great observational skills," May murmured to the mystery person, soft enough Morgan shouldn't have been able to hear. But then May raised her voice, shrill and afraid. "Yes, we do! A really important guest, actually. Can you come over and greet him?"

Well, that set off all of Morgan's alarms. Gripping the baseball bat, Morgan spun around and raised it, ready to rain hellfire down on whoever thought they could mess with her aunt.

May glared at her as she faced the scene–no surprise there–but Morgan's attention switched to the mystery person on the couch. He was leaning forward, a piece of bread in his hand, and–

And Morgan dropped her baseball bat.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"Language!" May chided.

"Yeah, kid, don't you seem a little young to know such vulgar words?" Tony fucking Stark said, shooting her a cheeky grin.

"I–what–" She pointed at him, her mind sputtering. "You're Tony Stark."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Your aunt is right, you are very observant." 

Holy shit, I'm talking to Tony Stark. HOLY SHIT, I JUST SAID THE MOST IDIOTIC THING POSSIBLE TO TONY STARK. "Um, what–what are you–" Morgan's gaze flicked to May for help, but she just mouthed What the hell? which really didn't explain anything. "What are you doing here?"

He leaned forward, resting an arm on the back of the couch. "Well, it's about time we met. You've been getting my emails, right?"

Stark winked, though his jaw immediately twitched in pain–because he had a black eye, why did he have a black eye?–so he switched to the other eye, winking again.

"Um, yeah. Yeah." She glanced at May, who mouthed what the hell? again with a carefully restrained smile. Oooh, Morgan was going to be in so much trouble after this. "I– I just didn't think–" 

"That I'd come to visit our top applicant?" Stark raised a hand, as though surprised, though his face remained steady and calm. "It was in the description. Remember?" 

Absolutely not. "For, the, uh…"

"The grant. For the September Foundation?"

Grant? "Oh. Right. I just… didn't think I'd… qualify."

"Well, you did, and I approved it. So, congratulations. We're now in business."

"Oh." What the hell. What the hell. What the hell. "That's… that's good! Right?" She looked at May, pleading for help.

Unfortunately, she was out of luck. "Um, Morgan, you never–never mentioned this grant to me." May sent Morgan her you'd better explain right now young lady look, and holy shit, Morgan was so screwed.

"Uh…" Think, think, think. "It was going to be a surprise!" Morgan blurted, throwing her hands up in the air. "Because, you know, I didn't know if I would get picked, so I didn't want to get your hopes up." Nailed it. "But it looks like that's not a problem anymore! Surprise!"

Tony Stark looked halfway between crying and laughing at her horrible attempt at lying, but May's strained smile melted right off her face. "Oh, Morgan, that's sweet, but you know you can tell me these things."

"Yeah, I know. I know." Morgan shifted, pinned underneath both of their gazes. "Um. So. What… what do you want to…?"

"Oh, well, I'm here to hash out the details." Stark tossed back the last of the bread–and how did he make even that look elegant and calculated?–before smiling at May. "This walnut date loaf is exceptional. It's so hard for me to believe that she's someone's aunt."

May looked down, chuckling awkwardly. Rage boiled in Morgan's veins, shooing away all panic. "Yeah, well, we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?"

"Still–" 

"Okay, woah, nope, nope, nope." Morgan scooped up the baseball bat, storming forward and smacking his shoulder. "You're gonna stop right there if you know what's good for you." 

Stark raised an eyebrow at her, his dark eyes boring right into hers. Morgan didn't flinch away from the intense gaze, even as the silence continued on for an uncomfortable moment.

"Morgan," May finally said in exasperation, but Morgan wasn't having it.

"Nope, you get the hell away from my aunt." She prodded his chest with the bat, forcing Stark to scoot backwards on the couch. "Back up, yep, there you go, keep going." 

"Morgan, it's fine," May tried again, but Morgan continued to poke Stark until he had to get up and off the couch.

Stark didn't seem upset by it, however. No, he seemed almost… amused. The dangerous challenge in his eyes when she first brandished the bat was gone, replaced by a smug glint in his eyes.

"I didn't realize hashing it out was going to mean literally fighting, otherwise I would have brought my suit." He crossed his arms as she held the baseball hat at him. "You're a tough little kid, aren't you?"

"Keep talking to my aunt that way, Stark, and you'll figure out just how tough I am," Morgan spat as May ground out a tired "You have no idea."

Stark raised a hand and pushed down the bat. "Kid, if you're going to threaten me, at least call me Tony."

"Thank you, Tony," May sighed, standing and coming to Morgan's side. She grabbed her shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly. "Come on, Morgan, put the bat down."

"But–"

"Morgan, it's fine. He was just teasing me. I don't feel uncomfortable at all."

Morgan shot her aunt the most unbelieving look she could muster. 

"Well, not because of that comment," May amended.

"Fine," Morgan huffed, dropping her hand. "But I'm watching him." 

May didn't even try to fight her on that one. "Let's just continue this conversation like rational beings, shall we?" She straightened and clapped her hands. "Mr. Stark–"

"Tony."

"–Tony, we're thankful you decided to choose Morgan for this grant. She could definitely use the help." May directed the last part at Morgan, a very unsubtle command to be nice to the rich man so he will help us. "Is there anything we need to do to… I don't know, qualify…?" 

"Oh, she's already qualified. She'll get the money, whether she kicks me out of here or not." Stark shrugged, like it was just… meaningless. Nothing at all. "But it's possible she could qualify for more, if she decides to pursue other paths."

"And that's what we need to talk about," Morgan guessed.

He raised a brow. "If you aren't going to throw me out if I take a wrong step."

"We definitely won't!" May cried out. She glared at Morgan. "Right, Morgan?"

Morgan grit her teeth. For one thing, this was Tony Stark in her house. Her hero, a man she had looked up to since she was small, was offering her financial help–which as much as Morgan didn't like to admit, she did need help with–and she should be excited. She should!

But there was this pit in her stomach, sinking deeper and deeper, because she got the feeling she knew why he was really here.

Because why else would Iron Man be interested in some random kid from Queens?

So, she just glared at him again. "I don't trust you," she said, plain as day.

"I'm glad you don't," he shot back.

May looked between them helplessly, but they were lost in their own staring contest. "Oh, for the love of…" May sighed. "Morgan, just… hear him out, okay?"

"Fine."

Tony turned to May. "Can I have five minutes with her?"

May looked at Morgan. "Can you behave?"

"You should ask him that," Morgan sneered, which earned her a slap upside the head. "Ow! Fine, okay, ouch. Yes, I'll be nice."

"Good." May smoothed down Morgan's hair, fixing her with a stern look. "No pissing off billionaires today, okay?"

"Come on, May, that's like my whole thing."

"Morgan."

"Fine, I'll play nice."

"Good." May turned to Stark, smiling. "Alright, I'll let you two talk. Come get me if you need anything." She dropped a kiss on Morgan's head. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she said, keeping an eagle eye on Stark as he wandered into her room. Every nerve was on edge, her instincts screaming at her to get him away from May, to keep her safe–

But then May squeezed her shoulder. And then her hand was on her face, gentle but strong, guiding Morgan's gaze to hers.

May smiled, a soft but lovely thing, like a flower blossoming after a long winter. Though the stress lines around her brow were pronounced, her dark eyes shimmered with warmth. "I'm proud of you," she whispered.

And that… that made Morgan's stomach sink. She wanted, hell, needed, to be excited with May. This was Morgan's dream. She'd idolized Tony Stark since she could talk, even more so when he became Iron Man. Sure, he'd made some sketchy choices in the past, but now, he was a hero. Morgan's hero.

And she couldn't even be excited that he was here, in her house, talking to her, all because she had a nagging feeling she knew why he was here. Because she definitely hadn't applied for any grant, and you would have to be living under a rock to avoid the recent news.

Morgan knew why he was here.

She still prayed that it wasn't true.

May left to the kitchen with one last good luck kiss, leaving Morgan to face the music.

Here we go, she thought, and plunged headfirst into the lion's den.

Chapter Text

Morgan bit her lip as she entered her room. Tony Stark was walking across her stained carpet, dark eyes scanning her shelves. There was curiosity and caution in his gaze, thoughtful and calculated, and Morgan decided she didn't like this one bit. 

Still, it wasn't like she had any other choice. She shut the door behind her. Here we go.

"Why the hell are you here?" Morgan demanded.

"Right to the point. I like it." Mr. Stark gently prodded her collection of old computers. "Whoa, what do we have here? Retro tech, huh? Thrift store? Salvation Army?"

She swatted his hands away, trying to seem dignified as she replied "the garbage."

"You're a dumpster diver." It was a statement, not a question, as he picked up her toolbox and shuffled through the contents. "And a mechanic."

"Trying to be." Morgan crossed her arms. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you here? I definitely did not apply for your grant."

Stark set down her toolbox, spinning around to face her. "Ah-ah! Me first."

Morgan grit her teeth. Be nice. Be nice. Don't piss off the billionaire.  "Excuse me?"

"You're excused," Mr. Stark said smoothly, flicking out a Stark Phone from his jacket. "Quick question of the rhetorical variety." The screen projected a picture, no, a video– and Morgan's heart stopped.

No. No, this couldn't be happening. Not yet.

But Stark just tilted his head, those intense brown eyes staring right into her. As if he could see every secret hidden in her head, as if he could pull out her heart and examine it, piece by piece, as if he knew everything about her. 

And that damned video kept playing, of Spider-Woman earlier that day, catching a car before it hit an innocent child.

"That's you, right?"

Time stopped. She didn't breathe. Nothing moved for the span of an eternity. 

It felt like the first time she had leapt off a roof as Spider-Woman: her feet scraping the tiles, teetering on the edge of uncertainty–and the wind, it tugged at her braid, a soothing touch to her anxiety–and nothing had moved, not for a single moment, even though this was New York and no one was ever still–and there was only one thing.

Her heartbeat.

Pounding, sure and steady, and there.

And then, she leaped.

Morgan felt herself plunge, in that same way, staring into eyes like knives–carving her from the inside out, revealing every shred of her inner self–towards the ground below. But this time, she didn't know if she had anything there to save her.

She could barely even feel her own heartbeat.

"No." Her fingernails dug into her skin. Please… not yet. I still need more time. "I don't know who that is. No one does."

"That's real sweet, kid. But I wasn't asking you."

"You don't know that." Desperation coated her voice. Because she still needed more time. (Time with her siblings, time with Ben, time with May and Lily and–) She wasn't ready. (She still had so many people to help, still had so much to do–)

"Funnily enough, I can." Stark zoomed in on the video, and though facts tumbled out of his mouth, his gaze never left her.  "Proportions are exactly the same, and, filtering out the muffled effect from your mask, the voice is the same, too! Oh, and look at that, you're wearing the exact same braid as the superhero in the video. What a coincidence."

He knew. He knew. And she couldn't deny it, because Morgan had learned that braid from Lily, spent countless afternoons perfecting the careful movements. Because though she was stronger from the spider-bite, she was still stuck at five foot two for the rest of her life. Because that was her.

She was Spider-Woman and they both knew it.

"That's not me." Panic and anger and fear welled in her throat. "I'm not a superhero."

"Yeah. Look at you go." He continued as if she hadn't spoken, watching the replay of the video. "Wow! Nice catch. 3000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's not easy. You got mad skills."

Her frustration broke through, because why, why did it have to be like this? Why did she always get in trouble for doing the right thing? Why couldn't she just help people? "What does it matter to you, anyway? You're a billionaire, what do you want with me?"

"Oh, look at that. Finally got a confession out of her." Stark flipped the phone, cutting off the video. He tucked it away, but those damned dark eyes still drilled into her. Relentless. "So. Gonna own up to it now?"

Morgan ground her teeth. "That's not proof."

"Alright, then." He picked up a book on her desk and Morgan's heart jumped into her throat. 

"Don't–" she started to cry, but he still opened it. Stark revealed a hollow book, full of capsules of webbing. He picked one up, holding it up to the light. "The tension is impressive. Who manufactured this?"

"I did," she grumbled.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"My school's lab." She scooped up some of her blueprints on her desk in an attempt to prevent more snooping.

The warning came a second later, the hairs raising on the back of her neck. Her hand shot up, catching the thrown capsule with ease. Shit. Just another piece of evidence to condemn her.

She accepted defeat as she slammed the capsule down, cracking the wood of her desk a bit. Morgan pulled her shoulders back, turning to face him head-on. 

Stark just stared back at her, like she was a puzzle to pick apart and inspect. "So. You're… Spiderling. Crime fighting Spider. Spider-girl?"

Morgan sighed, dropping her head in her hand. "Spider-Woman."

"Not in that onesie, you're not."

Her head snapped up, cheeks flushing with heat. "It's not a onesie!"

"Really? Prove it."

Oooh, he was really getting on her nerves. "You know, I've already had a crappy enough day as it is. You're really pushing it," she hissed, shedding her hoodie. Her suit hung on her frame for the world to see, and it… it was terrifying.

Just what had she gotten herself into?

However, Stark seemed ignorant of her internal debate. He started to circle her, eyes flicking up and down her designs. "I tend to have that effect on people," he drawled, before tugging lightly on her sleeve. "You wear this everywhere?"

"Do you wear your suit everywhere?" she shot back.

"Touché."

Morgan tossed her mask on her bed, glaring at the floor. She was vulnerable, she was exposed, she was afraid–and she was so damn tired. "Are you done?"

Tony didn't answer. He picked up her mask, holding the goggles up to his eyes. "Woah! Can you even see in this?"

"Give me that!" She snatched it away. "I have enhanced senses, genius. I get too much input during fights, so I have to filter it out."

He hummed, tugging at the hood of her suit. "That's what the patches on the side of the hoodie are for, isn't it? Filtering out noise."

"How did you–"

"Genius, remember?" 

Morgan glared at him, but he just stared right back. They stood there for a moment, a war of two wills. Morgan finally relented, looking away with a scoff. "Yeah," Morgan admitted, "I get headaches easily."

"Explains why the fabric is so thick. I bet smell and touch are also sensitive."

Ugh, did he have to be so smart? He'd barely even seen her suit and had already figured it all out. "So what?" Morgan snapped. "Why do you care?" Why do I matter?

Tony paused his circling, brows raised. It wasn't surprise, but it wasn't comprehension, either. There were gears turning in his head, Morgan could see it, just like when Lily started to solve a new case. There was something he couldn't quite figure out–and it was her, but why was it her?

What was so important about troublemaker Morgan Parker?

The air seemed to buzz with answers as Tony tilted his head. 

"I want to understand."

Morgan blinked. "Not–not that." But damn did that catch her off guard. Why did he want to understand Morgan of all people? She just screwed everything up. He could just go and ask Ben, who was rotting away six feet under. "Why do you care if I'm Spider-Woman? Why do you care about Spider-Woman at all?" Morgan couldn't quite keep the resentment out of her voice. "No one cares about her."

"Wow, self-deprecating much?"

"Stop avoiding the question."

"Then stop avoiding my questions. Or are you gonna force me to tell your Aunt?"

Her blood turned to ice. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I would. Because, see, I'm a bit in a bind here." Something flared in his eyes–a fire in those calm, chilly eyes that had torn her apart the past few minutes. It was like he shed a layer of his persona–a disguise, a mask–and suddenly he wasn't careful, calculated movements, but a flurry of emotion and action.

Tony started pacing her room, a thoughtful but fierce look on his face. "I'm facing an enemy who knows me and my team very well. Everything we throw at him, he'll be expecting. I need something unpredictable. New." 

"Me," Morgan concluded. "A brand-new superhero no one knows."

"Bingo." Stark spun around to face her, titling his head and touching his cheek. "And you seem like you're raring for a good fight."

She pursed her lips as the bruise burned. "I only fight when I have to."

"See, that's funny, because you seem to fight a lot more than that." He flicked out his phone, pulling up another video, one where she dragged some citizens out of a collapsed building. "You didn't have to get involved here." Another video, another person saved. "Or here." Pulling kids out of a fire. "You didn't have to do any of that." He swiped the videos away, fierce eyes burning into her. "Why?" 

Why didn't you save him?

Morgan sat down in her chair, scrubbing a hand down her face. Tony sat down on her bed, his gaze never once leaving her. Like he couldn't miss a detail of the show she was putting on. Which was ridiculous, because she… she was too tired. She had nothing left to give.

"They needed help, so I helped them."

"Okay, but why?" Stark's voice was soft, but there was the undercurrent of sparks in his tone. "You didn't have to help. You didn't have to do anything."

"I did!" Morgan threw her hands up, exhausted and annoyed and I just had to. "I did, okay?"

"Why?" He pressed.

"Because–" Uncle Ben would have wanted me too. She sucked in a deep breath. "I could have saved someone once, but I didn't. And it…" Morgan rubbed her eyes, trying to hide the tears. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry… Still, her voice broke. "It was the worst thing I've ever done."

"How so?"

She glared at him. "I could have done something. I could have saved him. But I thought I couldn't, I thought I didn't have to. And I was wrong." She hung her head, remembering Uncle Ben's last shuddering breath, the blood on her hands… and a final whisper. With great power comes great responsibility. His hands, slipping out of hers. Gone. "I was so wrong."

Tony sat silently for a moment as she breathed, blinking away the tears and trying to collect herself. By the time she had wrangled the memories, Stark leaned forward, something… gentle across his face. Careful. Hopeful.

"Why?" He asked, voice soft but full of fire. Burning quietly. Alive. "Why were you wrong?"

She stared at her hands. Scarred and torn from years of pain, of abuse, of neglect. Bandages wrapped around her split knuckles, earned from knocking Flash away from Lily–because that was why she had gotten involved, because he had whispered something horrible about her and Morgan had to keep him away from her. Calloused fingers from work and heartache and years of thinking haven't I given enough?

Because she had suffered, she had bled, she had tried to help so many times before she was bitten by that spider. She had dragged her siblings away from her drunk mother, intent on beating them to death, with a broken arm and cracked rib. She had learned First-Aid from May because this was New York, and something was always going down, which meant someone always needed help. She had tried to get between Ben and that bullet, but she hadn't really known–how to stop it, how to help, how to be strong–and that had ended in bloody snow.

Morgan was only fourteen. But still, she had given her all.

And somehow, that wasn't enough.

For the world, for the universe, for fate–it wasn't enough.

But… a part of her was fine with that. Because all of that… that had happened when she was younger, smaller, weaker. Now, she was stronger. Now, she was smarter. Now, she was older. Now, she knew.

And that somehow made all the difference.

Because if she gave her all now…

Then maybe. Maybe. Maybe she could make a difference.

Maybe she could save one more life than if she hadn't tried at all.

And though she was tired and scared and alone–so broken and old and desperate–that was enough to spur something in her heart. A spark, a flame, a light. Hope.

Because that was all she needed to keep going.

Morgan breathed–in and out–then she met Tony's gaze. "Because when you have powers like me, you have a responsibility to help. Sure, I guess I had a choice. But not really. I can't just stand by as people suffer. I can do something about it. So I should."

Tony Stark looked at her for a moment, emotions flickering behind that stony mask. But beneath all of it–a fire. A fire that was nothing but a small spark when he walked in, clinging to the embers of some broken campfire–but now, was growing and raging and breathing and… 

Standing on the edge. The world, stilling. Just waiting.

Then… leaping.

Heart beating.

Alive.

Tony nodded, movements stiff but sure. There was an extra bounce in his leg as he stood with a sigh, a flick of a wrist, a blink of an eye–like a statue coming to life again. He took a moment, clearing his throat, gathering himself.

Morgan waited, feeling a bit adrift after… all of that. She wasn't even sure what to call that conversation. (A bonding moment? Did she just have a bonding moment with Tony Stark?)

"Alright, then." Tony sat back down on her bed, patting the sheets. "Come here."

And if Morgan was already feeling unsure before, she was utterly lost now. Still, she slid over to sit beside him, trying not to think too hard about this.

After a moment of silence, he raised his hand, pursed his lips, then hesitantly patted her back. "You got a passport?" 

She blinked. "You're kidding, right?"

"Ever been to Germany?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Germany. You in or not?"

"I-I don't even know who we're fighting."

"You don't need to."

"What?" She scowled, pulling away. All of that–bonding moment? Baring her heart and soul? Having an emotional breakthrough?--and he still was being stingy with information? "No way." She crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him. "Tell me or I won't help."

"Kid–"

"What? Scared?" She pointed at her eye, mimicking his gesture from before. "Guess whoever gave you that spooked you a bit, huh?"

She saw his jaw work. Ha. "The Avengers are… in a bit of a disagreement right now."

Yeah, sure, that's a real nice way of putting it. "And you're going to solve it by hitting each other until someone wins?"

"We already tried to talk it out." He glanced away, but not before Morgan caught the flash of anger in his eyes. But… not anger. Hurt. "Things didn't work out."

Morgan frowned, her fingers skimming her frayed sheets. This was fragile ground, and she didn't want to mess anything up… but Stark also had his chance to push her buttons, to figure out what made her tick, to get the information he needed. It was Morgan's turn. "You guys are heroes. Why are you fighting?"

Stark cut a look at her–-half-exasperation and half-wistfulness. "Like I said. We're in a disagreement."

"About what?"

He shook his head. "Kid–"

"I'm just going to keep pushing until you answer, so you might as well just say it and save us both some time."

Tony sighed, the same way May did when Morgan finally wore her down. He rubbed his forehead, as if he could will the worry lines away. "Some people feel… unsafe with superheroes running around. But we're still needed, so they want to make it… an official position in the government."

Morgan mulled the words over. "Isn't that… a good thing? I mean, you guys get in each other's way all the time." She'd watched the news, she'd seen the disagreements… plus, Ben had been a police officer, so she'd heard some of the stories first hand. Morgan knew the authorities and superheroes argued–a lot.

"Yeah, well." Tony exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His brow crinkled, like he was fighting off a migraine. "Rogers doesn't agree."

"Rogers? Like, Steve Rogers? Like, Captain America?"  

"The one and only."

"But…" Morgan floundered for the right words. "Isn't he, like, the representation of, well, America? The Government? Democracy?" It just seemed so… wrong. Of all the heroes, Captain America had always seemed the most… morally sound.

"Not anymore. He's gone rogue. And someone needs to bring him in." Tony sighed. "And that's me."

"And you need a team to back you up." Morgan nodded as the pieces started to slide into place. 

Sure, she was still falling–unsure of where she would land–but now she had information and her webs in hand–she wasn't scared anymore.

"Yep." Tony looked at her, brown eyes glimmering with… something. Pleading? Begging? Hope? "So. You in?"

Morgan pressed her lips together. She had a life. She had school. She had Lily, and Aunt May… but…

Tony Stark was here. In her room, at her level, asking for help. He would figure it out, with or without her, but… she could make it easier. She could work with her hero, she could help him–she could help everyone.

And just like that, she made up her mind.

"Alright," Morgan said. "I'm in."

Chapter Text

"Holy shit!"

"Can you go three seconds without swearing?" Happy trailed after the teenager currently racing into her hotel room. The past couple of hours with this kid had already been painful enough. He was not looking forward to the rest of this trip. 

"Wait, is this–is this still my room? All of this is my room?" Morgan's voice trailed farther away. "What the hell, this is like an entire house–wait, Haaaappy!"

"What?" He gritted out, dragging in the suitcase the teenager had abandoned.

"Why is there a bomb shaped case in my room?" Morgan peeked around the door, brown eyes wide. "And is it gonna kill us both?"

"Jeez, kid, no. And I thought Tony was paranoid." He marched into the room, huffing in exasperation. "And no, that's for you."

"For me?" Morgan curiously picked up the paper, lips tugging down in a frown. "A minor upgrade?"

"Just open it, we gotta go," Happy said, glancing at his phone. Sure enough, it was blowing up with messages. He hoped no one needed them anytime soon. "Suit up."

"My suit's in my–"

"Open the case!"

"Okay, okay, jeez!" Morgan flipped the latch up, leaping back like three feet as soon as it burst open. "What the–is that a suit?"

Happy's phone buzzed more insistently. Damn, he really hoped no one was dead. "I'm leaving in five minutes, with or without you in the car."

Morgan frowned, reaching forward and touching the suit. She immediately recoiled, her entire body shuddering. "Um, yeah, no, I'm not wearing that."

"What?" This kid was going to be the death of him. And maybe the Avengers, too, if she didn't hurry up. "Kid, you can't–"

"I'm not gonna be able to concentrate in that thing! I'll feel every single fiber of that suit, which means I won't be able to focus–"

"I don't care–"

"And I don't know how it works, so how can I fight in it–"

"Just put the damn suit on–"

"Yeah, no." Morgan shook her head, slamming the case shut. "Move, I'm getting my suit." She shoved Happy aside, muttering something about "microfiber" as she tore open her suitcase.

"Oh, for the love of…" Happy groaned. "We're all gonna die."

***

Morgan knew Mr. Stark had recruited her to fight Captain America, but she hadn't really understood what that meant. Not until she was crouching behind a truck in a deserted airport, watching the Avengers argue.

Which was… honestly, a bit terrifying. They'd always seemed to be this perfect team. A cohesive unit that was stronger together. But now, they were breaking apart, and… and it didn't look good. At all.

She bit her lips, fiddling with the sleeves of her hoodies as Stark yelled at Rogers, all shaking authority and terrified eyes. No wonder he was desperate for help; things weren't looking great.

And, sure enough, a shout echoed through the air only seconds later.

"Underoos!" 

Morgan swallowed back the bile in her throat. That was her signal.

Aunt May, if I die, just know I did it in the most epic way possible.

Ducking out into the open, she fired her web shooters. Her web caught Captain America's shield and yanked it out of his hands. In a swift movement, Morgan webbed his wrists together and landed beside Iron Man.

"Oh, sorry, did you need this?" Morgan asked, lifting the shield. "It's just that, you know, you didn't look very busy, arguing like children and all that."

War Machine– War Machine– snorted as Tony glanced at her, brow furrowed. Ah, right. She wasn't wearing his suit. Well, she could deal with that mess later. Morgan had to help to clean up this mess first.

"So, you gonna talk this out like actual adults or what?" Morgan asked, idly shifting the shield in her hands. 

"Alright, that's enough snide comments from you, kid," Stark said tiredly, waving a hand at her.

"What, no golden sticker for me?"

"Fine, yes, good job," Tony said. "Now shush."

"You've been busy."

The quiet, collected voice cut through their banter like a knife. The air went cold as Mr. Stark stiffened, the tension rushing back in like a tidal wave. Morgan glanced up at Captain America… who, for some reason, was smiling. At her. Okay, not really the reaction she was expecting for stealing his shield. And why was standing so… non-threateningly?

"And you've been a complete idiot," Tony spat, stepping forward with fury in his eyes. "Dragging in Clint, 'rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place!"

Morgan's spider-sense tingled at the back of her mind, a gentle throb pulsing throughout her skull. She fell into a crouch, tensing as she heard soft, almost ant-like footsteps around her. Something wasn't right…

"I'm trying–" Tony huffed, his fists tightening and loosening. He glanced around, desperation in his stance and frantic eyes. "I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

Rogers looked at Mr. Stark, his blue eyes pinched. "You did that when you signed." 

Tony inhaled, sharp and pained. "Alright, fine. We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us! Now! " The order rang through the airport, sharp as glass. "Because it's us!"  

Morgan inched towards Tony, nerves on edge. She could hear his heartbeat spike, could see the way his hands shook, and even with the suit on, could practically feel his need to keep this team together. But there was more than that–those damned footsteps were still ringing in her ears, and she could not figure out where they were coming from. 

Something really was wrong: It felt like they were walking right into a trap. But what…?

"It's us." The glass shattered into dust, desperation scraping Tony's voice raw. "Or a squad of J-SOC guys…" who will kill you… "with no compunction about being impolite."

Rogers stared at him, his hands twitching slightly. Morgan tensed, bracing for his next move.

"Come on," Tony whispered. Please.

Rogers tilted his head to the side, just slightly. Morgan leaned forward, listening hard… 

"We found it. Their Quinjet's in hangar five, north runway."

Shit.

"They found the jet!" Morgan shouted, right as Steve raised his arms. An arrow streaked right through her webs as he said "Alright, Lang."

Morgan's spider-sense exploded. She glanced down, spotting the movement half a second too late.

"What the–" was all Morgan got out before there was suddenly a man growing in front of her– where did he even come from– then kicking her in the face. She yelped, momentarily dazed, as he yanked the shield away. She staggered backwards, ribs aching as he raced away with the shield in hand.

Well. Shit.

The man (Lang?) strutted over and handed Captain America his shield. "I believe this is yours."

Morgan shook her shock off as Iron Man scanned their surroundings. "Oh, great," he grumbled as he activated his rockets, War Machine just a second behind. "Alright, there's two of them on the parking deck. One of them's Maximoff, I'm gonna grab her. Rhodey, you want to take Cap?"

"Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes," Rhodes said, to which Black Panther responded with "Barnes is mine!" and promptly sprinted off. Which left their team fractured and chaotic.

Well, this was getting off to a great start.

Morgan nudged the earpiece Happy had given her ("Because he has to contact you somehow , kid, can't you just wear the stupid suit–") further in her ear as she started jogging, not exactly sure where she was going. "Hey, what's the plan exactly?"

"The plan," Mr. Stark said, his voice stern, "is for you to do exactly what we talked about. Keep your distance and web them up, got it?"

"I thought you recruited me to fight," Morgan grumbled as she shot out a web, launching herself into the air.

"Safely, Underoos, safely," he stressed, the sounds of fighting echoing through the comms.

"Fine," she grumbled, spotting the two heroes (were they even heroes anymore, running from the law like this?) in the terminal. "But I will punch back." 

"I'd expect nothing less," Tony said, before shouting at someone else.

Morgan landed on the clear roof with a thump, which didn't even startle the two inside. Damn, she was hoping to scare them a little bit. Well, she could settle for beating them into next week. She sprinted across the roof, tracking how fast they were moving… 

Gritting her teeth, Morgan swung into the glass. It shattered around her as she cut through the air, nailing the Falcon right in the face. He swore as he was launched backwards, out of sight. 

Morgan skidded across the ground, glass crunching underneath her boots. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the second one (Barnes?) winding back. Morgan yelped, ducking just in time. The punch whistled right above her head. Jeez, what was his arm made out of? 

"Hey, listen, you seem reasonable." Morgan shot to her feet, raising her fists. "Can't we just talk this out? Like rational human beings."

Barnes just threw another punch, aimed right at her face. Morgan ducked out of the way, catching the metal fist in her palm.

"Guess not." Morgan grabbed Barnes' wrist, yanking him off his feet. Gritting her teeth, Morgan threw him across the terminal.

Barnes crashed right into the Falcon, sending them sprawling across the floor. Morgan raced over, webbing them up before they could move.

Both men burst out into a barrage of colorful curses–some of it extremely outdated.

Morgan winced in apology. "Sorry, but it's Stark's orders." She webbed Barnes' metal arm down as he broke through the first layer of webbing. "If it's any condolence, Mr. Wilson, I think you're such a cool superhero." Morgan webbed Wilson's wings down. "Is it true that you made your own wings? Because that hella cool."

Barnes let out a frustrated groan. "Who the hell are you?"

"Good question. I ask myself that on a daily basis, too." Morgan frowned as the hairs on her arms stood up, spider-sense screaming–

Something sharp snagged the back of her suit and dragged her into the air. "Holy–!" Morgan reached back and punched whatever the hell that was, causing it to release her. She fell to the ground, landing awkwardly as pieces of metal fell to the ground.

"Redwing! Nooo!" Falcon cried.

Barnes groaned, letting his head fall to the ground. "I hate you."

"Well, I hate you more–"

Morgan rolled her eyes as the two superheroes descended into squabbling. She rubbed her neck, wincing. That was going to leave a mark tomorrow. 

Whatever. Didn't matter. Explosions echoed outside, a harsh reminder that there was still more work to be done. Iron Man's call to regroup rang through the air, sharp and sure. With a deep breath, Morgan pushed herself upright and swung out of the terminal. 

Focus. She had to keep going, even as she spotted the two superheroes breaking out of her webbing. Focus. She followed the stream of superheroes towards the hangar. Focus. She joined the heroes, lining up on opposite sides. Focus. She leapt into battle as superheroes clashed.

It was absolutely insanity. Lasers flashed and weapons flew, cars and arrows crashed down all around, and so much going on Morgan could barely keep track of it. She could barely think, could barely fight, could barely focus.

Morgan tuned out as much of it as she could, focusing simply on just hitting the next person. Punch, swing, repeat. Punch, swing, repeat. Punch, swing, repeat.

Was there ever going to be an end to this?

It had to. Somehow. Morgan was going to make sure it did.

With gritted teeth, Morgan kicked the Grow-Guy from earlier in the face. She shot out a web and swung through the air, searching for the next opponent–

A shield shot through the air like a bullet, cutting right through her web. Morgan swore, falling into a clumsy tuck-and-roll. She stumbled to her feet as Captain America caught his shield, looking so sickeningly dignified. 

"You know, that thing does not follow the laws of physics at all."

Rogers didn't even dignify her comment with a response. He just shook his head in disappointment, as if she were a toddler who got herself into time-out. "Look, kid, there's a lot going on here that you don't understand."

Morgan snorted. "What? 'Cause I'm a kid? Yeah, right. Stark explained all of it to me." Well… most of it. She figured the rest of it out through context clues. "You're not going to trip me up with that whole 'it's not my fault' charade."

Rogers stepped forward, raising a placating hand. "Could you at least try listening to my side? I promise, I'm not doing this without reason." He swept a hand out at the battle around them. "None of them are." 

Morgan paused, because dammit, he sounded so sincere. And… it was true. This wasn't like the fights she had seen on TV before. The air here was charged with passion, with fear, with conviction–a need to be right. Everyone had stakes in this war this time.

But that didn't make breaking the law any less acceptable.

Morgan fired her webs at his legs and pulled, yanking Rogers right off his feet. He flew towards her and she kicked him, sending him crashing into the ground and sheild clattering away. She rolled to the side, a growl on her lips. "Sorry. I'm not exactly in the mood to listen to criminals today. Even if it is for a good cause." 

Rogers got to his feet, reaching to grab his shield. Morgan shot a web at it, yanking it away from him. The shield jerked through the air, going way too fast. Morgan yelped, ducking down as it flew over her head. Oops. At least he couldn't get it now, either.

"Did Stark tell you to say that?" Rogers asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Did he tell you to do that?"

"No," Morgan said, though in retrospect, she probably should have asked about that in the briefing. "I make my own choices."

"So do I." The Captain's blue eyes cut right through her. "But these Accords are going to take that away. From both of us."

…Well. He had her there.

Morgan sighed, duly noting the chaos happening behind them. "I know," she said. "I made him tell me about it. I don't… completely understand it, but I know enough."

"Do you?" Rogers asked, crossing his arms, and damn, did she feel like she was getting judged by Aunt May right now, which was never a good feeling.

And honestly, the question made her pause. 

Did she?

A shout of pain ripped through the air. Morgan spun around, watching Tony falter in the air, armor sparking. Her heart froze as he hung there for one terrible moment, inches away from falling, from dying–

And all the other heros–teammates and not–were getting pummeled, all around her. Getting beaten to pieces.

Morgan stepped forward, pulse racing, not sure where to go, who to help–

Rogers dashed past her, scooped up his shield, and threw it at her. Morgan jerked back, but she wasn't fast enough. The shield collided with her shoulder, throwing her across the airport. She crashed into the ground, head smacking the ground.

Her head throbbed, explosions ringing in her ears, her shoulder burning. Gritting her teeth, Morgan shoved herself upright.

Rogers caught his shield, not looked ruffled in the least. "Sorry, kid. I really didn't want to hurt you."

"Yeah, that's what the bad guys always say." Morgan slipped a small sphere out of her belt.

"Kid–"

Morgan threw her invention at him. It exploded into soft foam on contact, enveloping his limbs. It hardened in seconds, trapping him in solid rock.

Morgan staggered to her feet, glaring at the Captain.

"Maybe I don't know enough," she panted. "Maybe I don't understand because I'm just a kid. But this?" She threw an arm out at the fight around them. "This is wrong. You guys are supposed to be the good guys, a team, a family!" Morgan watched punches get thrown and hearts get broken. "Whatever caused this, it's bad news, and I'm going to do everything in my power to stop it." She pointed a finger at him. "And that includes you."

The Captain stared at her for a long moment, silent as his eyes scanning her masked face. Then he huffed a laugh. "No wonder Stark likes you. You got heart."

And then he broke free, arms tearing through the rock like paper. Pebbles shot out, striking her skin, causing her to stumble back. Rogers swung a punch, catching her already bruised cheekbone.

The impact threw her a good six feet, right into a metal crate. She crashed into it, causing it to fall and launch her even farther. By the time she landed, everything hurt so much she could barely breathe.

She heard his footsteps recede, and Morgan tried to sit up. She had to keep fighting, she had to help. Stark's orders (keep at a distance, web them up) were drowned out in the dull thud of her heartbeat in her ears. Help, help, help.

Morgan pushed herself upright and jumped. She shot out a web, swinging towards Rogers with all her force.

He blocked her strike with the shield, causing her to bounce back. Morgan landed with a wince at her aching ribs. Still, she darted forward with a shout.

"Where you from?" Rogers asked, as she swung her fist.

She grunted. "Queens." Morgan cursed as he caught her hand.

Rogers grinned, a hint of respect creeping through his mask. "Brooklyn," he answered, and threw her into another crate.

Her head smacked the metal, sending stars blooming through her vision. The breath left her lungs in a pained shout, leaving her trying to find air. She fell to the ground, knees screaming as she crashed into the pavement. She tore off her mask, blood in her mouth and screaming in her ears.

Rogers saluted her. "Nice job, kid. You'll get there one day." Then, he turned and sprinted away.

Morgan slumped to the ground, accepting her defeat. That was what she got for thinking she could take on Captain America.  

She sucked in a breath, wincing as her entire body pulsed with pain. Struggling upright, Morgan peeled back her hoodie. Bruises bloomed up and down her ribcage, winding up and down her skin like rose thorns. 

Morgan really hoped these bruises would fade before Aunt May saw them.

The battle continued to rage around her as Morgan let her sweatshirt fall. She closed her eyes, letting the explosions in the background fade to a soft drone. For a moment, Morgan just let herself catch her breath. She just felt. Every emotion raging inside, every pain itching at her skin, everything.

Morgan felt everything.

Then, with a careful exhale she tucked it all away. She left it with a silent promise to come back later. But for now, she had work to do.

Morgan pursed her lips, bracing herself for the pain. She pulled herself upright, a wave of nausea crashing over her. She grit her teeth, tears springing at her eyes, but stayed standing. 

In the distance, she heard Mr. Stark shout her name.

Morgan pulled on her mask, the fabric cool against her scraped skin. With a deep breath, she pushed herself away from the crate and staggered back into the fight.

She wasn't giving up yet.

Not yet.

Chapter Text

Tony was not having a good day. Hell, he wasn't having a good week. Everything had gone to shit in the span of a couple of days, and now he was fighting his teammates–his family– in order to protect them. Oh, and he'd dragged a kid into it, too, just to pile one more transgression onto his load of sins. Yeah, that had been low, even for him.

But he couldn't focus on that right now, because he had to deflect angry heroes left and right. He fought, he punched, he purged some weird ant-sized man out of his suit, yada yada. Honestly, Tony just wanted this fight to end already. He was tired, achy, and so completely done with Steve's little rebellious stint here. If they could just talk…

A truck went flying by his head. 

Yeah, no, talking wasn't happening anytime soon.

Suddenly–what the actual hell?--there was a giant man and he was throwing Rhodey like a freaking baseball and where did Steve even find this guy?

Luckily, the kid swung by just in time, with a confident "I got him!" and some tactful webbing. Tony sighed in relief, glad at least she and Rhodey were okay–

And he spoke too soon. Giant-Weird-Man kicked a bus at T'Challa–which Vision just barely blocked–and Tony nearly got his head taken off by a plane wing. Plus Rhodey and the kid were back in the fight–jeez, could no one sit still for just one second?

"Okay, if anybody on our side is hiding any shocking and fantastical abilities they'd like to disclose, I'm open to suggestions," Tony says, dodging some more debris, still hot on Wilson's tail–

Smack! The sad remains of Redwing flew right into Tony's face, cracking his helmet and knocking him out of the air.

"I got you!" The world spun, something yanked him upright, and Tony found himself stumbling into the kid's arms. "You okay?"

"Shit, kid, what about you?" Tony's migrane was forgotten as he spotted Morgan's shoulder, the fabric torn clean through and a nasty bruise forming.

"Trust me, I've had worse." Morgan winced as Big-Cringe-Man tossed T'Challa to the side. "Okay, so, you mentioned shocking abilities, and it got me thinking–"

"What, you have more powers I don't know about? And why aren't you wearing the suit I gave you?"

The kid just rolled right over him, ignoring his comments completely. "--and I have a plan. It should work as long as you guys stay out of my throwing range."

"What does that mean?" Tony demanded, panic flaring through his core as Rhodey got smacked out of the sky.

Morgan dug through a pouch on her belt, pulling out several small, metal balls. "Let's just say he isn't ready for what's coming at him. Ready?"

No, Tony was not ready. He didn't know what the plan was, he'd lost sight of Rogers and his crew, the Ant-Giant-Man was kicking his team around like ragdolls, and a kid was ordering him around. No, he was not ready in the slightest.

Tony sighed and fired up his suit. "Lead the way, kid."

Morgan nodded, swinging into battle, and as Tony followed he wondered what the hell his life even was right now.

And why was Morgan wearing her old suit? He gave her a completely new one, that should have worked way better! What, did Happy not give it to her? Tony watched as she streaked through the air, all red hoodie and blue jeans glory, her braid waving like a flag. At least she seemed to be doing okay.

"Hey, War Machine!" Morgan called, swinging past the Weird-Man's head. "Fly as crazy as you can! Confuse him!"

"Uh, kid, I don't even know who you are," Rhodey responded.

"Just listen to her!" Tony shouted. "I'll go right, you go left!"

Even with the suits on, Tony could feel Rhodey's look, which he promptly ignored. He had enough bullshit to deal with already. 

Together, they flew circles around the Weird-Ant-Man, darting around like flies. He started to stumble back in confusion.

Morgan swung back into the fight, tossing the orbs at his feet. They shot apart into wires and wrapped around his legs. They lit up with electricity, taking the Weird-Ant-Guy down quickly. He shrank as soon as he hit the ground, groaning loudly.

"Woah." Rhodey glanced at Morgan as they flew over to her. "Where did you get that?"

"I made it," she responded simply, as if she hadn't just taken down a whole-ass superhero on her own.

"Where?"

"In my science lab during lunch." She shrugged, so nonchalant that Tony felt pride surge through his chest. "Don't tell my science teacher."

"Duly noted." Tony turned around at the sound of rockets, swearing as the Quinjet streaked out of the hangar. FRIDAY helpfully identified the two figures inside–Rogers and Barnes. "Now stay put, we'll be back soon."

He and Rhodey shot into the air, ready to chase them down–

–when Tony felt a gentle tug on the front of his suit. And, sure enough, when he looked down, there was Morgan, clutching a string of web as they streaked through the sky. 

Because of course .

Of course she couldn't follow orders.

They flew higher in the sky, the ground dropping away. The Quinjet hung just beyond their reach. 

"Kid–"

"You recruited me to help, didn't you?" Morgan reached a hand up, letting her fingertips stick to Tony's armor. She hung there, masked eyes narrowing at him. "So let me help." 

Rhodey snorted. "She's just as stubborn as you."

"Shut up," Tony shot back. They were slowly nearing the Quinjet, but their window of capture was closing. "Kid, do you think one of those orbs could stop the engines?"

"Um, maybe–" she jerked, masked eyes flying wide. "Rhodes, hard right!"

Rhodey dived, swooping just below the string of explosions. 

Tony glanced back at Wilson, who was quickly gaining on them.  "Vision, I got a bandit on my six."

"Don't worry, I got him." Morgan said, preparing to web–

"Don't you dare, kid," Tony snapped, eyes still trained on the Quinjet. Come on, Steve… "I'm not about to risk you falling a hundred feet to the ground. Vision, get him off our tail."

There was a "Understood," from Vision, and Tony shot forward, ready to catch Rogers–

Morgan shrieked. "Watch out!"

Tony spun around just in time to witness it all.

Falcon ducked, avoiding Vision's beam. And, instead, it hit–it hit Rhodey, right in the chest–

And he was falling. Falling, falling, falling…

"Rhodey!" Tony screamed, spinning down into a dive. He barely registered Falcon diving beside him or the kid clinging to him–just Rhodey, falling and falling and falling–

"Tony…" No no no no no– "I'm flying dead stick." Black smoke rolled from the suit as War Machine streaked down towards the ground, Rhodey's voice strained and resigned.

"RHODES!"

Rhodey hit the ground with a sickening smack. The impact crater was a scar around him, marring the calm field with darkness. Tony hit the ground running, crashing to his knees beside his fallen friend. His face plate retracted as he reached down, hand shaking– Rhodey–

"Boss?"

Tony jerked out of his shock at FRIDAY's voice. He yanked off Rhodey's face plate, revealing his friend, slack and bloody and– "Read vitals," he sputtered out, heart racing.

FRIDAY answered, her voice almost kind. "Heartbeat detected. Emergency medical is on its way."

At that moment, Wilson lands beside him, and Tony–Tony just feels rage. At this man, for betraying him, for betraying Rhodey, for hurting Rhodey. And at Rogers, for this damned fight, for Barnes, and–

"I'm sorry," Wilson says, face pinched in pain.

Tony just shoots him. He doesn't even look to see if he stays down. Tony just cradles his friend in his lap, praying to whatever being was out there to please… save him.

There's a gentle weight on his arm, and even through the armor, Tony can feel her kindness. It makes him want to scream. She shouldn't see this.

"I-I know first aid," Morgan says, her voice strong but so, so tight, and as he looks into her eyes, he can see fear in them, the horror and this shouldn't have happened.

"So do I, kid," he said, blinking fast. "But that's not going to help right now."

Morgan looks down at Rhodey, then back to Tony. He can't do anything but stare back.

Her face crumbles, and with a stifled sob, she wraps her arms around him. Tony curls an arm around her small frame, feeling every tremor and sob and pain–all of it, he felt all of it, everything–

They clung to each other as FRIDAY said: "Vitals falling." She buried her face in his armor, trying not to cry. Tony just hung onto her, felt the rise and fall of her breath, and tried not to spiral, to fall, to die…

Because who was he without his best friend?
Dots appeared in the distance. They came ever closer, sirens wailing and lights flashing. The authorities. Or medical? He didn't know anymore.

Tony nudged Morgan. "Go. You don't need to get caught up in this."

Morgan leaned back, her brown eyes swimming with tears. "I want to come."

"No." She shouldn't have to watch him die. "Go back to Happy, tell him what happened. That's your job now, okay?"

Morgan hesitated, then nodded. She shakily pulled on her mask, her voice hoarse. "Okay."

She stood, moving to leave… but then paused.

"It wasn't your fault."

Tony just stared at Rhodey's chest, burned and broken and… "It is."

"Maybe part of it is," Morgan admitted. "But not all of it." She rested a hand on his shoulder, her voice heavy. "Trust me. I know from experience."

And then she was gone, leaving Tony in the middle of a smoking field, his best friend dying in his lap.

When the first responders finally took Rhodey into surgery, Tony locked himself into an empty room.

He screamed, he punched, he fell… 

down, 

down, 

down…

Eventually, Tony just sat alone in the darkness and cried until he had nothing left.

Chapter Text

Happy knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the kid's face.

He gripped the wheel, trying to remember how to breathe. Because that look… he knew that look all too well. The blank horror, the wavering resolve, the fear that shook the air–Happy knew it, and he hated it.

Please, please nobody be dead… he prayed as Morgan opened the passenger door.

"What happened?"

She swallowed, avoiding his gaze. "War Machine got hit. It… it looks bad." One hand gripped the door, the other clutched her mask with shaking fingers. "Mr Stark… Tony said to tell you. In case…"

In case he dies.

Morgan didn't have to finish, she didn't even try to. Which was fine, because Happy knew what she meant. He'd had dozens of conversations, just like this one, he knew.

But that didn't make it any easier.

Rhodey was an honorable man, a strong warrior, and Tony's best friend. If he died…

Well, Happy had seen Tony at his worst, surrounded by bottles and covered in cuts, but had a feeling this pain wasn't even going to come close.

Still, he never wanted to see Tony that low again.

So, he pursed his lips and convinced himself it would be alright.

It had to be.

"Rhodey's tough," Happy said resolutely, turning back to the wheel. "He'll pull through."

The kid stood there, silent and shocked, as Happy fiddled with the car. He tried to give her a minute to process everything, but she didn't move an inch… and, well, he couldn't really stall any longer.

"Come on, kid, hop in, we don't got all day," he finally sighed, turning back to Morgan.

However, the command faltered as he met Morgan's eyes. The girl stared at him, expression slack and scared, brown eyes filled with barely-contained tears.

"Promise?" she squeaked.

Happy blinked. "What?"

"Promise he'll be okay?"

Oh, jeez. "Kid… I can't promise anything–"

"You just said he'd be okay!" 

"W-well, yeah, but–"

"So promise," Morgan demanded, her face twisting in resolute fury. "Promise me he'll be okay."

Happy stared at this tiny superhero, half the size of an adult but three times as strong, shaking like a leaf in the wind yet still glaring at him with poisonous, desperate fire. There was fear in that crumbling gaze, wounded and raw, but also hope. Hope that this would all be okay.

And for a moment, Happy could see just why Tony brought her along.

"I promise," Happy swore. "Now get in the car."

Morgan nodded, the tear tracks on her face shining as she set her jaw. With controlled grace, she climbed into the car and buckled her seat belt, calm and steady. But Happy could feel the passion and fury raging underneath her skin, resolution settling into place like molten iron.

So, five minutes later, Happy wasn't surprised when she tugged on his sleeve.

"What food does Tony like?" she asked.

Yeah, Happy could see exactly why Tony liked this kid.

"Burgers," he said easily, guiding the car down the road.

There was a moment of silence and the tappity-tap of a phone.

Then…

"There's a McDonald's by the hospital." Morgan leaned over, showing him a glimpse of a Google Maps search. "Does that work?"

Let the record show that Happy was not smiling. Not even a little bit. He was just glad the kid had her head in the game, that's all. He was just… grateful, that despite everything shitty going on right now, Tony at least had one superhero firmly at his side.

"Yeah, kid," Happy said. "That works."

***

Despite their bonding moment–which Happy refused to acknowledge, the asshole–Happy made them stop at the hotel before going to the hospital.

Which was annoying, because no matter how much Morgan begged and pleaded, he would not budge on it.

So much for their bonding moment.

"But, Happy–!"

"Natasha texted me," Happy sighed before she even finished her question. He unlocked her hotel door with a tired eye-roll. "She said Tony's busy right now, so we'd just be in the way if we go now."

"But–"

"We'll go later, okay? Besides, I can't exactly walk Spider-Woman into a hospital, that'll cause all kinds of problems." He shoved Morgan inside her room, then slammed the door shut. "Go get cleaned up, kid."

Morgan glared at the closed door, but Happy just went into his room without another word, which was not fair. Whatever. She could wait for a little bit. But she wouldn't do it happily.

With a sigh, Morgan entered her room with a wince. Now that her adrenaline was crashing, the pain was increasing ten-fold. She had to be fast. With careful fingers, Morgan peeled off her suit and tossed it to the side. It was soaked in sweat and blood, but she did her best not to focus on that. Instead, s he turned on the shower and entered it with an exhausted sigh. This had always been her safe place, even before Aunt May took her in. No one could hurt her there, standing in the sheets of water, alone with her thoughts. And now… she had the sinking feeling it was going to be her only place of solace for a while.

She let the repetitive stream of water drown out any other sounds. Morgan breathed, focusing on the steam against her skin, the smell of the soap, the sight of nothing but smooth walls. She scrubbed everything clean, unbraided and washed her hair, and then just stood.

And existed.

The emotions she bottled up before surged back to her with a fury, tasting like iron on her tongue. Morgan closed her eyes and let it all come.

Anger, anger, anger, at Rogers for treating her like shit, for hurting everyone, for fighting Tony… 

And fear, oh, the fear, watching Rhodey fall from the sky, seeing Tony cradle him helplessly, just standing there and staring, because she couldn't do anything, just like with Uncle Ben…

Then there was the pain, washing over her with waves of nausea, bone deep and weary, bloody and achy and hurt, it hurt–

Morgan swiped away the tears–or maybe it was the water?--as the memories raged around her, like a monkey with a baseball bat. There was nothing she could do but let her heart shatter into pieces. She just had to watch her dreams slip into smoke, because this? This was not a dream. It was a nightmare.

What kind of hero was she if she couldn't help anyone? Wasn't that the whole point of this? But no, they were all fighting each other and everyone was getting hurt and...

And this wasn't how this was supposed to go.

Morgan was supposed to help.

Right?

After countless minutes of sobbing, Morgan gasped for air, her heartbeat beginning to slow. Though she was shaking and bleeding and hurt--Morgan swiped away the tears and caught her breath.

She couldn't stay here forever. Oh, how she wanted to. But she couldn't.

So, soft and careful, Morgan gathered up the pieces of herself, slotting them back into place with a wince. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and Morgan wanted nothing but to stay here, broken, forever. But she couldn't, and so she let the pain expand as she picked up her shattered edges.

After what felt like an eternity of whirling emotions, Morgan finally turned off the shower. Opening the curtain, she grabbed a towel, the torrent of sensory overload crashing down on her again. She winced, but did her best to ignore the plethora of sounds, sights, and smells. Instead of focusing on the pain, she dug a first-aid kit out of the cabinet and sat down on the edge of the tub. With slow, careful movements, Morgan addressed her wounds.

The gash on her shoulder disappeared under bandages, the cuts on her knuckles knitted back together, the bruises on her hips faded under a cool cream. Piece by piece, Morgan dragged herself back together, wiping away the blood and sharp edges.

When she had treated all the injuries she could, Morgan found a comfortable outfit to throw on: a t-shirt, a jacket, and some loose jeans. She also pulled out the brush Lily had lent her forever ago, covered in peeling stickers and jewels. With gentle hands, Morgan tugged through the knots in her hair, rebraiding it into a firm rope.

Finally, finally, Morgan looked in the mirror, still foggy at the edges, and stared at herself. At the bandages trailing up and down her arms, the bruises blooming on her skin, and her tired, tired eyes. 

But, for a moment, it wasn't her eyes she saw. 

It was another hero's eyes, kneeling by his fallen friend, hands helplessly floating above the mangled armor. It was the look of horror and fear, of nightmares coming true, of anger at everybody and nobody at all. It was his arm around her as she clung to him, hearing his heart race beneath the armor, the soft drum of please please please muttered under his breath.

It was Tony Stark's eyes, dark and exhausted… and alone.

Because she left him.

Why? he'd asked, those eyes staring right at her, so intense she almost couldn't breathe. Why were you wrong?

"Because I can't just stand by as people suffer," she whispered, "I can do something about it. So I should."

And with that, she left the bathroom, nerves steeled and mind clear.

She had a hero to help.

***

Tony paced the length of the room, running a tired hand down his face. Rhodey was still in surgery and–and it was bad. He was in no way a doctor, but Tony knew enough, even without the doctors' explanation.

He probably won't ever walk again, they'd said. We don't even know if he's going to wake up.

And that, in a way, was the worst torture of it all.

Because his friend was just a few rooms away, dying, and Tony couldn't do a single damned thing about it. 

Tony scrubbed at his forehead, swearing under his breath. It–it wasn't okay, but he couldn't focus on it now. He needed to get his head in the game. Check on his team, make sure they were okay– But Vision hurt Rhodey, Nat betrayed me, and– talk to the doctors– Mr. Stark, I'm afraid there's nothing you can do– and–and–

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony jolted, tripping over a chair. He swore, stumbling, head spinning. "Wha–" Where am I, what's going on, why– "What?" 

"Mr. Stark, it's me."

And, well, that wasn't helpful, like, at all. Tony could barely see, his vision still blurry from his spiral, and the voice was distorted and he couldn't do anything–

A hand, gentle and warm, pressed to his arm. Tony tried to jerk away, but he couldn't quite get his limbs to function correctly–and it was so hard to breathe, damn panic attacks, but he had to–do something– but he couldn't and–

"Mr. Stark, I think you're having a panic attack."

"No shit," he snapped, but the mystery person didn't even flinch. 

"Can you sit?"

Tony bent over, gripping the chair he tripped over, squeezing his eyes shut. No, he couldn't sit. He had too much to do, too many people to help, he had to do something–

The voice huffed, the crinkling of bags following. "Alright, Mr. Stark, you're gonna hate me for this, but you gotta sit down." Hands pushed him closer to the chair. "I promise, it'll help."

"I–I can't–"

"Then let me help you." The voice was patient, though a bit exasperated at the edges. Just like Pepper. (Damn, he missed her.)

"I-I don't know–" Don't know how to help, don't know what's going to happen, don't know–

"Yeah, me either. Now. Sit."

Tony finally relented, falling into the chair, though he didn't release his grip on it. He shuddered, trying to draw in breath, but all he got was a strained gasp.

"Okay, now–"

"Breathe, I know." Tony shook his head, trying to jolt himself back to reality. "I know!"

"Then do it," the voice said, so tired and exasperated and wow, was he sure that wasn't Pepper? 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, chest burning and arms aching and trying…  

Rhodey Natasha Steve Pepper Happy Vision Clint Wanda–

A hand pressed to his shoulder, firm and strong, but not forceful. Just steady. "Breathe. In, out, in, out."

Can't do anything, can't do anything, can't–

"There you go, keep breathing like that. In and out…"

Scared, angry, can't lose them–

"Don't worry, I got you…"

Just breathe.

Tony scrubbed a hand over his face, gasping for air. Slowly, his sight returned, though his hands shook as he slumped over in the chair. He stared at the smooth floor, the ringing in his ears slowly fading away. Still, the hand remained, probably the only thing keeping him upright.

It took awhile, but he managed to wrangle himself into a somewhat more controlled state. He sighed, running a tired hand through his hair.

"Shit," was all he could think to say, though it was more a shaky declaration than anything.

The voice chuckled. "Yeah, I agree. Shit indeed."

Tony shook his head, pushing himself upright. "I–yeah, shit, yeah. Sorry you had to see that." He needed to pull himself together, he needed to be useful, he needed to do something. "Anyway, you can–you can go now. Thanks."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Listen–" he started, looking up to glare at whoever who, admittedly, had helped him through his panic attack, but was still intruding and–

Two gentle brown eyes met his.

"Kid?"

Morgan cracked a small smile. "Hi."

"Kid, what are you–" She shouldn't be here. She should be far away from this mess, safe and happy and not here. "What are you doing here?"

"Happy drove me here." Morgan peered down at him, looking cautious but unafraid, even after his outburst. "Are you okay?" 

Was Tony okay? Hell, what a question.

"I'm fine," he said, brushing it off. He could deal with his own crisis later. After all, he had a vague memory of the kid getting bowled over by Captain fucking America, and that took precedence over his own emotional turmoil. "Are you okay?"

Morgan shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Kid, you just got thrown around like a ragdoll by some of the strongest beings on Earth. Don't lie to me."

She glared at him. "Then don't lie to me."

And, well, shit. Tony couldn't think of a good response to that, and wow, he must be exhausted if he got cornered by a tiny twelve-year old.

"I'm stressed, and scared, and yelled at about three doctors in the past hour," Tony groaned out, every admission tearing at his soul a little more. "Happy?"

Morgan scanned him, lips pursed in a thoughtful frown. Finally, she nodded, bending down to pick up the bags by her feet. "I'm so sore I almost fell on my face. Twice." She lifted the array of bags in her other hand.  "Oh, and hungry. Want some?"

Tony hadn't even noticed the bags, but there were, indeed, multiple McDonald's bags in her hand, slick with grease. "Did Happy put you up to this?"

"Nope! All me," Morgan smiled, the edge slightly dangerous. "Is it working?"

Tony really did not like that he was being guilt-tripped to talk about his feelings and eat by a fucking teenager. Weren't their roles supposed to be reversed or something? Besides, Tony could take care of himself. He would eat eventually.

…Probably.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he grumbled, but slid to the floor all the same. "Those had better not been drugged with sleep pills or something."

"No." Morgan paused as she unloaded some of the cartons. "Though that would have been a good idea."

Tony huffed, something like laughter resting in his chest, but it was too heavy to be released. "Listen, kid, I appreciate it, I really do, but I don't need you to take care of me. I'm a grown-up, I can do it myself."

She simply rolled her eyes, not even disturbed by Tony's annoyance. "Everyone needs to be taken care every once in awhile, even adults. I mean, I've sat through The  Bachelor countless times just to help May feel better, and those were on normal days when her best friend wasn't in the hospital." 

Tony winced at that, but Morgan continued. "Besides, this is for me, too. My healing factor takes a lot out of me, so I have to eat to keep up with it. Happy didn't quite believe me, but I managed to get six burgers out of him."

"Kid–"

"And, also, you're forgetting one simple fact about life." Morgan handed him a burger, still warm and greasy. "Food makes everything better."

Tony was too tired to argue, and, well, the food did smell okay. So, even though they were sprawled out over the hospital floor, even though his world was crumbling, even though he was exhausted... Tony bit into the burger. As soon as he did, Morgan nodded and demolished a package of fries.

They ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable, just… weary. Some of the exhaustion started to leak away, however, as they ate. 

Morgan was on her fourth burger when Tony finally broke the silence. "They don't know if he's going to be okay."

She paused, then slowly set it down. There was a distance in her gaze, sore and stilted. She was still, unnaturally still. But then, with a breath, the mask shuddered away, and Morgan was her usual whirlwind of energy, fierce eyes and strong words.

"He will," she said, so confidently it could have fooled any lie detector. "I know he will."

"You can't–you can't know that–"

"I do." Morgan looked around at the walls of the hospital. "I've been in a lot of hospitals, you know. I've seen a lot of people on their deathbeds, too. But it's always easy to see who's going to make it and who won't. They lost that spark in their eyes, their will to live, they're tired of fighting. But Rhodey isn't done yet. I mean, I didn't really get to know him, but I could tell from all of you, none of you are ready to give up. That's why you're fighting so hard, even if it's a bit silly. You believe you can make it, so you will." She looked back at him, gaze burning. "So I know Rhodey will be fine. He will be."

And with that, she went back to eating her burger.

Tony sat there, stunned, the words ringing through the air.

"Damn, kid."

She glanced up, eyes wide and curious. "What?"

"That was…"

"Yeah, I know." She snagged a bottle of Sprite, tossing it back with a swig. "Not my first pep talk I've ever had to give."

"No?"

"Yeah, the officers back home sometimes have a rough time of it. Sometimes all it takes to keep going is to hear someone be annoyingly stubborn about it." Morgan grinned. "And I am very good at being stubborn."

Despite the pain still ringing through him, Tony barked a laugh. "No kidding, kid. You're a downright rebel."

She smirked, munching on a fry. "May always says it gets me in trouble, but I know she's glad I just don't give up easily."

Tony shook his head, watching the teenager gulp down some Sprite. "You sure don't, kid. You sure don't." 

Morgan just grinned and finished off the fifth burger.

***

Morgan was an enigma, that was for sure.

In the past twelve hours since Tony met her, she stood toe to toe with him armed with nothing but a baseball bat, directly disobeyed his orders and (tried) to beat up Captain America, and saved him from a panic attack twice. Yet, despite her tough as nails exterior, here she was, sitting with him on a hospital room floor, eating McDonald's and doodling on napkins.

If he wasn't so tired, he'd want to pick her brain a bit more.

Instead, he settled for glancing at her drawing, dotted with ketchup. "Robots?"

"Mechanical legs," she supplied. Her hand swiped over the napkin, soft and loose, the sketch slowly coming to life. "To help people with injuries. It's like an insect's exoskeleton."

Tony leaned forward, studying the design. "Smart. Non-invasive, but strong enough to give them support."

Morgan just nodded, doodling some more. "May's a nurse. She works at the ER." (Tony already knew that, but he let her keep talking.) "They get a lot of paralytics there, usually disabled for the first time in their life. It's scary, but maybe it'd be easier if they had more answers than 'physical therapy'."

Tony wasn't dumb. He knew what Morgan was doing. But dammit, it was working.

He pointed at the joints. "Hydraulics would work better than actual wires. Cut down on the bulk and weight, plus it's more efficient."

Morgan nodded, snatching another napkin and re-sketching the design, this time with hydraulics. "But it would be a nightmare to do recalibration on."

"Not if it's properly protected from the elements."

"How do you do that without it being too heavy?"

And so, that was how Tony found himself brainstorming a set of prosthetic legs for his best friend with a fourteen year old.

What even was his life?

Still, he couldn't find it in himself to really care, because by the time there was a nurse peeking into the room, there was a completed blueprint sitting between them.

And, for the first time in hours...

he allowed himself to think, just maybe, it would be okay.

Maybe.

Morgan elbowed him as they cleared away their mess, grinning smugly. "Told you. I'm stubborn."

Tony just shook his head as he folded the blueprints and slipped it into his coat pocket, the ghost of a smile on his face. "You sure are, kiddo. You sure are."

Yeah. They were going to be okay.

Somehow.

Chapter Text

Natasha didn't regret her choice.

She spent a lot of her life, regretting her decisions and missions, the blood on her hands and the red in her dreams. But this? This, she wouldn't ever regret.

Because, one way or another, she needed her family to stay together.

Even as Rhodey went into surgery, even as Tony locked himself into a room, even as T'Challa called Ross… she didn't regret letting Steve go. Because she looked up and met his eyes–for one, perfectly still second–and saw him. Not Captain America, all perfect plans and golden track record, but Steve: teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, determined fury pouring from every pore, scared and sure and I need to protect him.

So… Natasha let him go. And it hurt, it hurt like hell, but she let him go and now… she had to deal with the consequences. She could do nothing but watch as her family crumbled in her fingers.

It hurt.

But she had always been good at finding distractions.

Natasha raised an eyebrow as a plaited braid bobbed through the empty hallways. Sure enough, there was a teenager connected to it, clutching some McDonald's bags while covered in bruises and bandages.

Talk about subtle.

She cleared her throat as the kid peered into the room beside her. Spider-Woman jumped nearly a foot, spinning around to face her with wide eyes.

"Holy shit! Um, hi, Miss Black Widow–oh my gosh, you're so cool– I mean, do you know where–nevermind, that's not–uh–"

Natasha just quirked an eyebrow at her. "Hi, Spider-Woman."

She froze, rambling skidding to a frantic stop. "W-what?"

"I'm a spy, kid, you thought you could hide it from me?"

"I–well, kinda–not to discredit your amazingness, but – people aren't supposed to know–"

"It's a little late for that, kid." Natasha crossed her arms. "I'm assume you're looking for Tony?"

The girl blushed. "Um… yeah. Where–?"

"Third door to the right. Just be careful, he locked the door."

Spider-Woman just scrunched up her nose, looking adorable and all too young to be caught up in this shitshow. "Not the first lock I've picked."
Natasha gave her a wry smile. "Just what we need, another rule breaker."

The girl ignored her comment, frowning slightly. "Wait, how come you didn't pick the lock? You could probably do it three times faster than me."

Natasha kept her smile plastered on, but she felt the acid in her stomach curdle. "I don't think he wants to see me right now."

Spider-Woman stared at Natasha, eyes warring between confusion and understanding. Finally, she sighed, shoulders slumping, aging a decade in seconds. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Nat closed her eyes, tears burning at her eyelids. "Me too."

A hand rested, so lightly it could have been the wind, on her arm, for just a moment. Natasha added another tick to her list of regrets: allowing herself to be emotional in front of a child she didn't even know–where even was her mind right now? Where did her training go?

Or was the pain of losing her family too much even for her?

When Natasha opened her eyes again, Spider-Woman was gone.

***

"The doctors say he shattered L4 through S4. Extreme laceration in the spinal cord. Probably looking at some form of paralysis."

Natasha stared out at the trees, waving in the wind, unwilling to move, even a little bit, as Tony came to a stop at her side.

"Steve's not gonna stop, you know." He doesn't care if this is his family. "If you don't either…" Because you don't care either–! "Rhodey's gonna be the best case scenario." I don't want either of you to die. Not because of this.

Tony has his mask on–all stubborn stone and unyielding steel–but his eyes give him away. They always have, from the first day Natasha knew him, it's been his fatal tell. They flicker with every thought, every emotion, every pain… all of it, she can see it in his eyes.

But for once, she wished she couldn't.

"You let them go, Nat." Tony's jaw is set, his shoulders are relaxed, but his eyes–they rage, screaming betrayal, betrayal, betrayal, you hurt me, how could you? "You let him go."

And Natasha, she wants to scream, let all those bottled feelings loose, because he knows how she feels, he knows. Tony knows, and he's using it against her, and it hurts–it hurts– because they're family.  

But he's hurting, and he's angry, and Natasha is the easiest target he's got. So he's letting it out on her, even though she's trying to help them, trying to save them, trying–

She won't cry.

Not today.

"We played this wrong." You know I couldn't hurt him, even if he's killing me.

Tony's brow twitches. "We?" So much for 'family,' huh, Romanoff? "Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh?" I thought you were on my side. "It sticks in the DNA." I trusted you, and you betrayed me… again.

Natasha's not crying, she's not, she won't.

Because she's scared for Steve, she's angry at Ross, and she–she can't lose her family. She can't. But no matter who she tries to help, she hurts them–her family, she's killing them–and they're breaking apart faster than ever because she can't do anything.

Nothing she can do can save them now.

"Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?" This is bigger than you, don't you see? This is about our family! Us!

They stand there, seething, glaring at each other as the world spins on around them. Natasha refuses to blink, drilling her gaze right into Tony's soul, searching and seeing. The traumas that were cropping up again, now that there was nothing keeping them at bay, the doubt of sincerity because of paranoia and fear and we were supposed to be a family–

But they're not. Not anymore.

Because they're falling apart.

And Tony's always been just as good as reading at her as she has him.

"T'Challa told Ross what you did," he whispers, like if he doesn't say it to the air, it won't be real. "So… they're coming for you." You betrayed me… but I still don't want to see you get hurt.

Natasha held his gaze, for just a moment longer, because this… this might be the last time. The last time they're on the same side, the last time they call each other family, the last time she ever sees him.

But he doesn't move. He doesn't budge. He doesn't change.

This family is falling apart, and he's going to see it through.

No matter what.

"I'm not the one who needs to watch their back."

Tony just looks away.

So, she leaves.

Again.

(And if she shed a tear while she walked away…)

(...she feels like, just this once, it's allowed.)

"Be careful," she whispered to the sky as she left the hospital. To who, she's not sure.

But it's out of her hands now, because no one can help them now.

Natasha runs down the road and doesn't look back.

***

Morgan did not like this plan.

"I thought we bonded," she grumbled as they threw away their trash.

Stark shook his head with a sigh. "Listen, just go back to the hotel, okay? I appreciate the help, but I… I do have to go. I need to… figure things out."

Morgan glared at him, but he just glared right back. "I don't like this."

"Good, you don't have to." He nudged her shoulder towards the exit, his face twisting into something almost sympathetic. "I'll see you in… well, I don't know when, but I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Promise?" It's such a stupid thing to say, but Morgan can't help it. She sounds like a kid, but she has to know.

Tony's face softens, just a bit. "Yeah, kid. Promise."

And that was that.

Morgan watched as he talked to Black Widow, shifting nervously. She should go, but she… she was still scared and worried and–

"You fought well today."

She jumped, spinning around to face the Vision. And… wow, okay, this was about as weird as running into Black Widow earlier–and damn, he was tall.

"T-thanks," Morgan murmured, picking at her sleeve. "You know, too?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out." Vision nodded at her bandaged hand. "But do not worry, I will not tell anyone."

Morgan exhaled, relief ringing through her chest. "Thank you. Really."

"It's the least I can do. After all, you did much today."

"I don't know about that." Morgan glanced to the side, heart squeezing as she glimpsed War Machine in a hospital bed. "Everything's… kind of falling apart right now."

Vision hummed softly. "Yes," he admitted. "It is. But you did your best to stop it, even though you had no inclination to do so. That is truly admirable, Ms…?"

"Morgan."

"Ms. Morgan." Vision's intense gaze switched over to Rhodey, lying all too still on the plastic sheets. In the background, Morgan could hear Tony's furious whispers. "You fought well today."

"Thank you. You did, too."

The edges of his eyes, ever so slightly, pinched. "Perhaps."

Morgan watched him carefully, but the flash of emotion receded, and the Vision seemed… well, like a robot. Which was strange, because despite his appearance, he seemed so… human.

"Everyone messes up, you know." Morgan fiddled with her sleeves. "I mean, it's just part of being human."

He didn't even blink. "I appreciate the sentiment, Ms. Morgan, but I am not human."

"Well, you could have fooled me." She flinched as the Black Widow stormed past them. "But… um, I should probably go. Thanks for, uh, talking, I guess."

The Vision floated in place for a moment, still as a mountain. Then, he turned, offering her the slightest of smiles. "Travel safe," he said. "And… thank you. You are wise, Ms. Morgan."

"I try." She smiled, waving as she jogged down the hall. "Bye!"

He lifted a hand in farewell, but in a moment, he faded out of sight.

And as Morgan turned the corner, the only thing left in the hallway was Tony, staring through the viewing window at his best friend.

But in a moment, he was gone.

***

"What the hell are you doing?" Happy asked, face twisting as he stepped inside her room.

"Work." Morgan didn't bother taking off her headphones. Even at full volume, she could hear him just fine. "Obviously."

"Let me rephrase, why are you taking apart the suit?"

It had been several hours since their hospital visit, and since then, Morgan's spider sense had… well, been very loud, to say the least. Something was wrong, and Morgan had a pretty good idea there was a certain billionaire at the center of it.

So, instead of sitting around and waiting for disaster to strike, she got to work.

With a grin, Morgan tapped at her computer, watching the lines of code scroll across the screen. "Well, you see, Mr. Stark put everything I needed into the suit. Well, not everything, but all that he could with the information he had." She tossed the mask over her shoulder, watching Happy fumble to catch it. "See, it's got thick fabric to block out unnecessary noise, smells, and textures. The lenses are tinted, too, so I can focus."

"See, all you're giving me are more reasons why you should have worn the suit," Happy grumbled.

"I'm not wearing clothes other people give me," Morgan shot back, skin crawling at the thought. Yeah, she'd had way too many unpleasant experiences with that. "I don't know them."

"Kid, did anyone ever tell you you're picky?"

She bristled, hackles rising at that horrible phrase. Don't lash out, don't snap, he doesn't know. "Maybe I am, but it's with good reason."

"Oh, really–"

"Will you just listen?" Morgan sliced through another wall of security, watching the code dissolve. "Anyway, he stocked the suit with everything I'd need, right? Like he was preparing for if we got separated, I could take care of myself. But he'd need a way to find me." Another firewall, gone. "To track me."

"Wait, so are you–" Happy sucked in a deep, deep breath. "Are you hacking the tracker Tony put on your suit?" 

"Yep." The screen lit up bright green. Bingo. "Make sense now?"

"No, why–"

"To find him, obviously." She brought up a map, tracing the connection, and– ha. "Why else?"

"Kid, you don't need to–"

"Yes, I have to." Morgan shoved herself to her feet, snatching up her suit–only to curse. Right, she forgot how absolutely destroyed it had gotten in the fight. With a groan, Morgan started digging through her suitcase for other options, because she had to have something. "Come on, have you heard from him? Or any of the other Avengers?"

Happy's silence was all the confirmation Morgan needed. 

"That's what I thought." She growled in frustration as she reached the bottom of her suitcase. Dammit. "Something bad is about to go down, I can feel it. Mr. Stark needs help. They all do." She rifled through her clothes again, tearing through the fabric. "Come on, I know I packed a back-up–"

A hand came into her view, holding a black hoodie. "It was on the bed," Happy grumbled.

Morgan grinned. "You're the best." She grabbed the hoodie, then pulled out a matching pair of jeggings. It wasn't great, but it'd have to do. "I promise, you won't regret this."

"I better not, or else your aunt is going to get a very angry call from me."

"Wouldn't be her first one." Morgan glanced at her computer. "Hey, remember the private jet we flew on?"

"What about it?"

"Do you think it can take us to Siberia?"

"What?"

Morgan pointed at the map on her computer. Happy walked over, brow furrowed as he read it. There Tony was, a little bright dot on the map, a distinct line tracing the path to his destination.

"Um… yeah." Happy pulled out his phone, brow furrowed. "Gimme a second."

Morgan raced into the bathroom, makeshift suit in hand and web shooters in the other. "That's all I need."

***

May saw the news. Everyone did. Who could avoid it? It was everywhere, the words CIVIL WAR splattered across every sign in New York City.

May had seen a lot of things in her life. And she could see the signs. The silence from every hero, the tension thick in the air, the speculation… nothing was happening. Yet. This was the calm before the storm. The heroes, they were regrouping, preparing for the worst, heading towards a fight that not everyone will walk away from.

And May got the feeling her niece was right in the middle of it.

She pursed her lips, watching as yet another call went to voicemail. With a sigh, May pulled up Morgan's location, watching the little dot travel over the ocean. Halfway across the world, right in the middle of the crossfire, and May couldn't even contact her.

Where was Morgan even going? What could she possibly be doing? And why… why now? Stark was in the middle of a war, what use did he have for an intern?  

Morgan was smart, but she was no superhero. What did Stark need her for?

The TV played back more of the grainy footage from the superhero fight. May dropped her phone onto the coffee table, sagging into the couch with a sigh.

"Oh, Morgan," she whispered. "Please, please be safe…"

A figure, clad in a red and blue hoodie, swung through the frame.

Please, come back to me. Please, don't die. Please… don't fight.

May watched as Spider-Woman go toe-to-toe with some of the fiercest fighters in the world, giving just as good as she got.

But if you do…

She watched her kick Captain America in the face.

Fight like hell.

Chapter Text

Tony was furious.

His mom–his mom– had died at the hands of this monster… and Steve knew. He knew the whole time. 

And he didn't tell Tony.

He didn't tell him.

"Move!" Tony roared, red at the edges of his vision, pain boiling in his veins, voices screaming why, why, why…

And the man had the audacity to shout "It wasn't him!" as though they hadn't just watched the video together. As if they hadn't just seen the evidence, as if they hadn't spent years fighting together, as if they were never family.

And oooh, that made Tony seethe.

Even as he got hit, again and again; went up against Rogers and Barnes both, again and again; fought Steve, again and again…

The anger didn't recede. It just got more painful, like his heart was getting pulled apart piece by piece, because he was fighting Steve. And Steve wasn't holding back. No, not like Tony, who still was trying to avoid hurting Steve too much (because he was family–) because he just wanted Barnes. But no, Rogers was giving the fight his all, getting up again and again… punching him so hard Tony's armor sparked, again and again… and and and and– Steve didn't tell me, how could he not tell me?

How could he kill me like this?

Then Tony was on the ground. And he couldn't get up, Steve was on top of him, slamming his shield down on Tony, again and again–his faceplate snapped off, the ragged metal cutting across his skin, but he didn't feel it–all he saw was Rogers–the shield–raised–

And it came down, like Death's scythe, and Tony…

Tony was going to die.

He was going to die.

Steve was killing him.

Tony raised his arms, trying to block the shield, but he knew it was useless, because who could stop Captain America? Not Tony, never Tony– he wasn't enough–

The shield was coming down, right on his heart, and he couldn't stop it-

"No!"

The scream cracked through the air like lightning, cleaving Tony's armor in two, just like the shield did--except. Except it didn't, because Rogers paused, just barely, at the shout--and--

A shadow shot through the air like a bullet, crashing into Rogers' side. They both went sprawling as the shield clattered away and he wasn't dead.

But it wasn't over--far from it, because Steve hit the ground hard as the other figure rolled away, panting, hoodie coated with dust and braid snapping through the air and--

Morgan. 

Morgan was here.

Her brown eyes met his, a smile twitching across her lips.

"Hey, Mister Stark," she called. "Thought you might need some help."

Tony would have cried if he wasn't in so much shock.

Because--because he wasn't alone, dammit--he still had one person on his side, even as his friends tried to kill him, as his family betrayed him, as everything fell apart-

He wasn't facing it alone.

But also...

"What are you doing?!"  

"Uh... helping?"

"Wha-" Tony was panicking, now, he could tell-because the kid was here, which meant she was in danger, and-

And there was movement behind her.

Tony struggled upright, even though every inch of his body was screaming in pain, trying to reach her. "Wait, don't–" he tried to shout, even as she started to stand.

The warning came too late. Barnes tackled her to the ground, eyes wild and metal arm raised.

"Kid!"

Morgan thrashed, fighting to get free, but Barnes' grip didn't loosen. With horrifying finality, his fist came down, and--

"Morgan!"

She shimmied out of his grasp, rolling out from underneath him as his fist cracked against the rock. There was a crater when he raised his fist, right where Morgan's head was just milliseconds before-

And she almost just died-

Tony had to get up.

He had to fight, he had to protect her, he couldn't lose one more person–

Morgan sprung to her feet before Barnes could get up, bringing her fist down on his head. The hit landed, causing him to cry out, but she didn't move away fast enough. Barnes' hand wrapped around her wrist, and in moments, she was thrown against the ground again.

"Morgan-" Tony swore, trying to struggle upright still, ribs screaming and armor unresponsive and danger-

"It's okay!" She shouted, even as Barnes pinned her down, her hands scrabbling for purchase, weakness, anything. "I'm okay!"

"Kid!" Tony cried as Barnes raised his arm, once more, and they both knew that this time...

He wouldn't miss.

Morgan's eyes narrowed. She was utterly, completely still for one horrific moment, watching his fist arc down to her face--

And then she got her foot against Barnes' chest and pushed.

Barnes went flying, hitting the ground hard as Morgan stumbled to her feet.

Relief flooded Tony's limbs, but his instincts still screamed danger danger danger and-

Morgan raced over to him, pulling him upright. "Are you okay?" 

Tony shook his head. "You shouldn't be here."

"And you shouldn't be alone," Morgan replied.

"Kid, if you fight now–"

"I might die. I know." Morgan turned around as Rogers and Barnes struggled to their feet, bloodied but fierce and all too willing to die for this. "But I signed up to help you. So that's what I'm gonna do."

"Morgan--"

She looked up at him, every five-foot-two inch of her set in determination and a familiar fire burning in her eyes. One Tony knew all too well, because it had been burning in his chest for years; the belief, the passion, the need to help, because they could.

So, they should.

"I'm going to help you." Morgan tugged on the plating of his armor, revealing some wiring underneath. With deft fingers, she reprogrammed them until his suit started to boot up again. She grinned, all fury and hope and this isn't over yet. "Whatever it takes."

Tony should tell her to leave. He should tell her he doesn't deserve her. He should tell her that this wasn't her problem.

But he had a feeling she wouldn't listen anyway. 

"They're willing to die for this."

She didn't even blink. "And so am I."

"Kid-"

Morgan put her hand on his elbow, fiery gaze silencing his arguments. "I can't just stay put when someone needs my help. I have to help them. It's my job. And if I die doing my job... then so be it." 

And Tony…

He couldn't argue with that.

Not when that was what he'd thought every day since he put on the armor, not when that was the last thing he'd said to Pepper before she walked out again, not when that was what this entire fight was about.

He couldn't argue when he was basically staring down at a smaller, younger version of himself.

He couldn't argue when she was right.

"Alright, kid, alright. You win." He powered up his suit again, falling into a fighting stance as Rogers scooped up his shield. "You ready?" 

Morgan spun around and cracked her knuckles, a smile on her face.

"Born ready."

With furious grace, she shot out a web, catching Rogers' arm midair. With a yell, she yanked him towards them, lining him up for a perfect shot for Tony. He aimed and fired, knocking Steve back into a wall.

"Let's give them hell."

And together, they charged.

Chapter Text

Morgan had spent her life fighting to save others.

It was fitting that she'd die the same way.

Side-by-side with Tony Stark, she charged forward, a war cry on her lips.

They descended onto the waiting soldiers and collided in a flurry of fists.

Tony drove Barnes backwards with blasts, as Morgan reared back to punch Rogers–

–only to be knocked backwards by Captain America's shield.

Morgan scrambled to find her footing on the icy ground, her knuckles sore from smacking against the vibranium. "Oh, come on," she grumbled. "That is so not fair."

"There's not much in life that is fair, Queens. But we can change that by stopping the Accords–"

"Oh, would you stop it with poetic self-righteous speeches? It's really pissing me off." Morgan webbed up a loose piece of concrete, swung it around to gain momentum, and heaved it at Rogers. He raised the shield to block it, the rock shattering as it hit the metal. Morgan webbed the ceiling above him, swung over his raised shield, and kicked the back of his head. "Though, that might just be your horrid personality, who knows."

"Harsh words." Rogers spun around, slicing the shield at Morgan as she landed back on the ground. With a yelp, she ducked as the sharp edge whistled through the air, slicing off the edge of her braid. "Learn that snark from Tony?"

"Nope, home-grew it myself–hey!" Morgan groaned as a chunk of her braid fell to the ground in a sad heap. "Come on, that's just mean." She webbed his leg and pulled, throwing him off his feet. "Didn't your mother teach you not to mess with a woman's hair?"

Steve fell into a roll before jumping to his feet and swinging a fist at Morgan. "Among other things." She caught his fist right as he brought the shield back around. "Including fighting for what's right."

Morgan jerked back with a swear, releasing his fist. But she wasn't fast enough, and with a burst of blinding pain, the shield sliced her cheekbone. She stumbled backwards, clutching the cut as blood rolled down her cheek, hot and fast.

In her disorientation, Rogers took the opportunity to drive his fist into her stomach. Morgan stumbled back, blinking through the shock and pain, as Rogers smacked her face with the shield. Her head whipped back, head exploding with pain as she fell to the ground, iron coating the insides of her mouth.

"And hurting innocent people isn't right," Rogers finished, standing all tall and proud and self-assured, like a pristine statue, like a hero. "It never is."

Morgan spat blood onto the ground, the liquid thick against her tongue. "Funny, because all I've seen you do is that exact same thing." She flicked her wrist and webbed his head, yanking him to the ground. He crashed into the stone as Morgan shoved herself upright. "You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?"

The man had the audacity to shake his head at her, all fatherly disappointment and self-righteous assurance. "You don't know the full story, Queens."

"Yeah, well, I think I've seen enough of it," she snapped as she clutched her aching ribs. "I've known you for, what, 12 hours? And all I've seen you do is hurt people–your people, your team!–and tear down what you swore to build up." Morgan thrust her wrist out, webbing his arms together. "That doesn't sound like a hero to me."

Rogers tore through the webs like it was paper, jaw clenched in frustration. "Why aren't you getting it? Bucky is innocent! It wasn't his fault!" Rogers threw the shield and Morgan leapt away, crashing into a nearby pillar as it whizzed past. "What kind of hero does that?!" 

"Bucky?" Morgan peeked around the concrete pillar as Rogers was caught the ricocheting shield. "Like, James Bucky Barnes? Your best friend from World War II?"

Rogers stalked over to the pillar. "What do you think?" he growled as he threw a punch.

Morgan ducked away, his fist connecting with the concrete and cracking it. "Wait, wait, wait–" she waved her hands as Steve swung the shield at her again. "Bucky Barnes is the Winter Soldier?! No one told me that!" She jumped ontop of the shield and webbed his other arm to the concrete pillar, trapping him in place. "What the hell?"

"I told you, Tony wasn't telling you everything!" Rogers shouted, sounded absolutely exasperated as he tried to throw her off the shield, but Morgan just stuck to it. "Kid–"

"Would you just hang on a second?!" Morgan gripped the edge of the shield, meeting Rogers' burning blue eyes. "I'm trying to talk to you! Isn't that what you wanted?" She webbed his arm up again as he tried to break through it. "What do you mean, it wasn't his fault? Was he, I don't know, being mind-controlled or something?"

"Yes!" If he had a free hand, Morgan got the feeling he would have thrown it up in frustration. "What else would have been going on?!"

"I don't know, man! A lot of crazy stuff has happened in the last twenty-four hours!" Morgan jabbed a finger at him, her shock morphing into a scowl. "But that doesn't explain why you didn't sign the Accords, or ran from the law, or why you're currently attacking Mister Stark!"

"He attacked us!" Steve slammed the shield into the pillar, the force of it finally throwing Morgan off of it. He chopped through the webs with the shield, freeing his other arm. "He wants to–"

The pillar behind them burst apart. Morgan yelped, raising her hands to shield her face from the flying rubble. But in a flash, Captain America stepped in front of her and raised his shield, blocking the worst of the destruction. She winced as large, jagged pieces of concrete struck the shield, again and again, pounding as–

As she spotted a blur–no, two figures, falling through the rubble.

Iron Man had flown Bucky Barnes through the concrete pillar.

And now he was throwing him to the ground.

Raising his gauntlet to–

"Bucky!" Steve shouted.

Panic and fear and help.

Heroes don't kill innocent people.

Morgan ducked underneath Rogers' arm and shot forward, webbing Tony's hand and yanking it back. The kill shot went wide, blasting a piece of the ceiling to bits. He swerved to face her, the slitted blue eyes of the helmet practically burning with anger.

"What the hell?!" He burned through the webbing with his other gauntlet, voice seething with betrayal. "Kid–"

Morgan opened her mouth, ready to demand answers, to tell him he'd regret killing him, that they were better than this–

–when Rogers jerked forward, threw his shield at Tony, and punched Morgan.

His knuckles cracked against her skull, causing stars to burst before her eyes. She dropped to the ground, head ringing and blood in her mouth and I just wanted to help–

"–ucky! Are you okay?" Rogers knelt beside Barnes, helping him to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he grunted, rubbing his head. "Shit, that hurt."

Anger spurred through Morgan's chest, hot and sharp and hurting.

She shook her head, dispelling the leftover throbbing pain, and staggered upright. Across the room, Tony was doing the same--pieces of his armor was sparking as his gauntlets flickered. They were hurt, and injured, and all because of Captain fucking America.

Who attacked them even when they paused in their fighting, when Morgan had tried to fix things, even when she tried to help.

The fucking hypocrite.

"Alright, now I'm really pissed," she snarled.

With a flick of her wrists, she webbed the ceiling above Rogers' head and yanked herself upward. The wind was sharp with sweat and blood as Morgan leaped, the concrete floor a blur beneath her feet. She spun through the icy air, purpose boiling in her veins as gravity tugged her back down to the ground.

Morgan grit her teeth, locked onto her target, and braced for impact.

She crashed into Captain America, the force of her hit knocking him back several feet. With him momentarily stunned, Morgan took the opportunity to wrap her legs around his neck and smash her fist into his face. He staggered forward, trying to rip Morgan off, but she held on tight as she drove her fist across his face again.

"Kid--" he started, bringing up his shield–

Morgan grabbed the shield before it could hit her, the sharp edge cutting into her palm. A drop of her blood rolled down her wrist and landed on his cheek.

"Don't call me that," she growled, and smashed the shield against his shoulder.

Rogers cried out, a streak of red tearing through his suit. He spun around, whacking Morgan into a wall. With shock ringing through her bones, Morgan couldn't recover before Rogers heaved Morgan off of him and threw her to the ground.

Bits of concrete dug into her skin as she hit the floor, skidding across the rubble until she hit the shattered pillar.

Her ribs screamed as she tried to drag in a breath, the air thick with dust and blood, head spinning and injuries burning.

She was so fucking tired.

Tired of fighting every minute of her life, tired of failing everyone she cared about, tired of helping and just making things worse...

She was tired of being the reason people got hurt.

First her siblings, then Ben, and now Tony–all because she cared too much.

She just wanted to help.

Morgan let her eyes fall shut, liquid rolling down her cheeks--tears or blood, she wasn't sure–ready to just give in to the darkness.

It'd be easier for everyone, surely, if she didn't help.

She started falling down, down, down...

"Morgan!"

...until she was heaved upright, a hand frantically tapping her cheek.

"–ome on, kid, wake up! Don't do this to me–"

Don't give up.

Ben, holding her hand, even as his heart slowed.

Not yet.

She pried her eyes open. "Mister Stark?"

"Yeah, kid, it's me." His face plate slid back, revealing his terrified eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I screwed up," Morgan croaked, shame flooding her body. "I thought... I thought I could talk them down--"

"Hey... I know, kid, I know." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, the sleek metal of his gauntlet cold against her skin. At some point, her braid had fallen out fully, and now her hair clung to her face with the blood and grime. Just one more reminder of how badly she'd fucked up. "I get it, I really do. But we already tried that."

Distantly, she heard Barnes and Rogers retreating.

"But they didn't listen, and so now... now, we just have to stop them, no matter what that looks like."

Morgan pursed her lips, tears welling in her eyes.

"Kid?"

She looked at him. Really looked at him.

Not at Iron Man, not at the billionaire, but at Tony.

Just as scared and angry as she was, hurting even more than she was...

"Mister Stark," she whispered. "You were going to kill him."

...but that didn't mean he got a pass on killing innocents.

They were heroes, after all.

Heroes don't kill innocents.

"Why would you kill him?"

Tony sucked in a breath, regret and pain swirling in his gaze.

"He killed my parents," was his only counter.

Morgan was fairly certain she heard his heart break.

"Was it even his fault?"

He didn't answer.

She heard Rogers whisper something to Barnes–"It's going to be okay, Buck"–and she think she felt her own heart break.

"We can't kill them," she whispered, even as blood leaked down her face.

Tony shook his head. "We have to stop them."

"We can find another way."

"He'll kill more people–he'll kill us."

"Not if we let him." Morgan grabbed his arm–covered in metal and wires, but she could hear the pulse of a heart underneath it all–and pleaded. "Don't you trust me?"

Tony stared at her for a long, long time.

Finally: "I don't trust most people."

"I'm not most people." Morgan felt her heart pick up the pace again, beating hard as resolve raced through her veins. Anger, desperation, fear--whatever it was, it pulled her broken pieces together once last time, long enough to make this right. "Please, Mister Stark."

For a moment, his face was impassive, solid stone, icy as the snow outside...

...and then it crumpled.

"Alright, kid," he said softly. "Just as long as you don't die, either." He squeezed her shoulder. "Got it?"

"Got it." She pulled herself to her feet as Tony stood upright, armor creaking with every movement. "And, just a thought, this might be easier if we actually, you know, work together."

Because he was still letting her help–no, he wanted her help.

The least she could do was try.

"I thought we were working together." Tony fired up his gauntlets as Morgan stuck her hand to his chest plate, hanging on as he flew them towards where the soldiers had retreated. "We had a whole emotional conversation about it, remember?"

"That's different than actually working together."

"If you didn't notice, I'm not much of a teamwork kind of guy."

Morgan huffed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just try not to die, alright?"

"Sure thing, Spider-Woman." Two figures came into view. "Ready?"

She closed her eyes, took a breath, and felt her heart beat.

No one was going to die today.

Not even Morgan.

Don't give up.

"Ready."

Iron Man swooped low and dropped Morgan on top of the Winter Soldier.

The shock and force of it knocked him off balance, allowing Morgan to cling onto his back and pull at his hair.

"Wait--kid--" Steve started, stepping forward to help... "We can talk–" ...only to be driven back as Tony dive-bombed at him.

"Sorry, Cap, but I think we're past talking," Morgan growled, yanking a clump of hair out.

Barnes yelped in pain. "Would you just stop?!" He grabbed her wrist and dragged Morgan off of him, throwing her away from him. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Please," Morgan huffed as she rolled to her feet. "You didn't seem to have any qualms with that at the airport."

She threw a punch, but he was too quick–Barnes caught her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. Morgan cried out, trying to squirm away, but his grip was ironclad.

"I didn't know you were a kid," he hissed, every word rough and aching. "I didn't know--i didn't know."

There was desperation there, something almost pleading. It was enough to make Morgan pause.

"What..." Morgan winced as Steve threw the shield right at Tony, catching him in the leg. "What even... what's going on?" Barnes' grip was strong, but not rough--he wasn't hurting her. Not like Steve Rogers, who took the first chance he got to push her aside–no, Bucky wasn't hurting her. "What did you do?"

They breathed hard for a moment, chest rising and falling together as Tony shot off a round of blasts at Steve.

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the exhaustion, or the closeness... but Morgan swore she could hear the regret tear his heart apart.

"I..." The Winter Soldier–no, Bucky Barnes–whispered. "I've done a lot of awful, awful things." A pause, a heartbeat, a breath. "But... I want--I'm trying to do better."

Morgan tugged away from him, and released his grip on her, letting her go. "I hate to break it to you, but this doesn't look like doing better."

His brow pinched. "I know." His metal hand spasmed. "I know."

"Barnes–Bucky." She held a hand out to him. "I don't want to hurt you either. Just... come with us, help us fix this." Morgan's palm was still leaking blood, the slash through her veins dark and ugly, but still, she offered it to him. "This is how you can do better."

He paused, eyes dark and shadowed, utterly and completely still. Then, slowly, his hand twitched forward–

"Kid!"

Her head snapped up as her spider-sense split through the chaos. She grabbed Barnes' arm and dragged him to the ground with her, the shield skimming right over their heads.

For a moment, with Morgan's hand on his metal arm, their eyes met.

"Buck!"

And then he drew back, and Morgan let her hand fall away, and they broke apart.

Still, she threw Bucky one last look.

"Don't give up." She shot out a web. "Not yet."

And then she plunged right back into the fight.

"On your right!" Morgan shouted as she swung past Tony, kicking Rogers in the face. "Good to see you're not dead yet, old man!"

"Watch your tongue, kid, I've been doing this longer than you've been alive." Tony shot a blast and nailed the Captain right in the chest. "Alright, Spider-kid, do your thing."

Morgan swung herself around Rogers, leaving strings of web fluid in her wake. He clawed at the material, trying to break free, but with several more spins, Morgan had him tied up in a cocoon of webs. 

"Nice work, kid!" Tony called as he caught a charging Barnes and tossed him into the wall.

Morgan grinned, pride burning in her chest as she webbed Barnes' arm to the wall.

"Happy to help," she said, unable to believe this was actually working, that no one was going to die today, that she could fix this–

–and then someone grabbed her arm.

And she went flying.

***

Tony was half a second too late.

One moment, the kid was grinning up at him, hair wild and eyes bright; the next, Steve had broken out of the webs and tossed her into the air.

Right at him.

There wasn't enough time to think of anything, to react, and–

Morgan slammed into Tony’s back, the force of it knocking his armor's equilibrium off. They tumbled to the ground, a mess of limbs and metal, as Tony did his best to shield the kid from the impact.

Thankfully, they didn't fall very far, being inside and all that, but still.

Getting thrown into the ground over and over again wasn't a very pleasant experience.

Morgan rolled off of him, coughing as blood dripped down her temple. "Dammit," she croaked. "That was cheap."

"Sorry, kid. Nat's been rubbing off on him, and not in a good way." He grunted as he got to his feet, offering Morgan a hand up. “You alright?”

“Never better.” She took his hand without complaint, her expression spasming as she got her feet underneath her. “That shield is going to be a problem.”

“It always is.”

“Think I can web it?”

“I’ll distract Barnes.”

“Got it.” Morgan bent her wrist, popped out the empty container of web fluid, and replaced it with seamlessly. Not once did her eyes leave the recuperating super soldiers. “I can keep the shield away for ten seconds, tops.”

“I’ve done more with less.” Tony glanced at Morgan. “Ready?”

She replaced the other web shooter’s vial with a resounding click. “Ready.”

Across the cave, Barnes and Rogers were breaking apart, no doubt ready to make another break for it.

It was now or never.

“Go!”

Tony’s suit burst to life as he flew at Barnes, Morgan nothing but a blur beside him. He tackled Barnes to the floor, only to be thrown back into the air moments later. He fired off a few blasts, each of which Barnes blocked, but left him open for another strike. Tony swept closer, throwing him into the wall, blasters ready to fire and end this–

“Tony!” 

Morgan’s voice shocked him out of the red haze, knocking him back a few steps.

Because right.

(Please, Mister Stark.)

They had a plan.

He swerved around to face the other half of the fight, where Morgan had successfully webbed the shield away and was now racing towards him, Rogers right on her heels.

Rogers, unprotected and blind with rage.

Rogers, a perfect target.

Tony fired off the hottest blasts he could muster, hitting him in his chest, his head, his throat–anywhere and everywhere it could hurt–

But it barely slowed him down. He shook it off–you get killed, walk it off–and charged forward, wrapping his arms around Tony and tackling him to the ground. Tony gasped as the breath knocked out of him.

“Tony–” Steve started, no doubt about to launch into another speech, and Tony?

Tony was just done with him.

“Oh, shut up,” Tony growled and punched him across the face.

It stunned Rogers more than hurt him, but his pause was enough. Tony kicked him off and rolled away, trying to catch up with the rest of the battle–

“Steve!”

A blur of red, white, and blue sliced past, chipping his shoulder armor and sending him stumbling to the side. Steve caught the shield, only to throw it right back to Barnes, catching Tony in the leg this time.

Wires sparked and warnings flashed, but all Tony could see was red. Anger and armor and blood and betrayal–how could you do this–

The shield struck him in between the shoulder blades, knocking him flat on his chest. Stars burst behind his eyelids as his head smacked the ground, his spine screaming and Rhodey, Rhodes, wake up–might never walk again– red red red–

“Stay away from him,” Steve growled, the shing of the shield being brandished ringing through the air.

“Not a chance, Cap,” Tony spat. He shook his head, trying to kick start his brain, but all he saw was the ground, his own blood, but he had to go, he had to–

Steve’s boots were at the edge of his vision, and before he knew it, Captain America was slamming his shield into the back of his neck–causing his suit to fritz and scream, “warning warning warning” and red red red–

“Get away from him!”

The war-cry cut through the darkness, so fierce it could have broken the Earth in two. Steve stiffened, and the sudden pause allowed Tony to roll onto his back, just in time to watch two webs connect to the shield.

Morgan shot through the air like a bullet, knocking Cap’s helmet clean off his face. She landed in a heap beside Tony, shaking and bleeding and in pain, and that was enough to reboot his brain.

Tony fired his gauntlets and nailed Rogers in the jaw before he could bring the shield up to block it. Not even half a second later, Morgan darted forward, slicing across his cheekbone with a shattered piece of metal.

A cut to match her own, drawing blood across both of their pale skin. 

Steve winced as he caught Morgan’s wrist before she could swipe at him again. “Kid–”

Morgan screamed, grabbing the hand trapping hers and twisting. She heaved him into the ground beside them, finally freeing Tony– 

Except he wasn’t, because his suit was freaking out, and every time he moved something seized and he couldn’t help–

Morgan was on her feet, web shooters aimed at Rogers, who wasn’t backing down–

“Steve!” Barnes cried, rushing forward, his arm pointed right at Morgan’s head–

“Kid!” Tony cried, trying to push himself upright, but it was too late.

Barnes’ fist cracked across the back of Morgan’s head, cutting her strings like that. She crumpled to the ground with a shout.

“Morgan!”

For a moment, Tony thought she was dead.

And by all right, she should be.

But still, still, Morgan kicked her leg out and swept it underneath Barnes, sending him sprawling across the ground. Relief and pride burst through Tony's fear, but it quickly dissolved as Steve got to his feet again, and Tony couldn’t move–

“Morgan, look out!”

She jerked back as Steve brought his weapon down, the shield sparking against the concrete beside her head. Morgan ducked as Steve swung again, darting forward towards Tony–

He tried to reach a hand out, to reach her, to help–

The shield came down and she screamed.

Tony’s heart stopped.

“Morgan!” Panic and anger flared through his heart as he finally got the suit to fire off a shot. It struck Steve right in the chest and sent him flying into the wall, but Tony was barely aware of him. “Kid, talk to me!”

She shuddered–a sign she was alive, thank god–then let out a strangled sob.

"Kid, are you okay?" Tony tried to push himself upright, to help, but the suit was glitching again and--

Morgan fumbled with her sweatshirt–hardly anything more than shreds at this point–and tore it off, gasping for air. Her torso was draped in bruises, abrasions winding up and down her arms, but that wasn’t the worst of it. No, none of that was what was killing her.

A gash tore down her side, right between her ribs, leaking bright red blood.

Any deeper, and as strong as Morgan was, she would never have taken another breath.

“Morgan–” Tony started, panicked as he scrabbled to his feet, his stupid fucking suit still not responding, and–

Her head snapped up, eyes flying wide. “Look out!"

Rogers shot upright, swinging his shield right at Tony. His suit wouldn't move, so he couldn't get out of the way, and all he could do was watch it fly at him--

It connected with his chest, cracking along the arc reactor–proof Tony Stark has a heart–and threw Tony across the room. He crashed into the floor, head banging into the rubble. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Mister Stark!" Morgan's scream cut through the ringing in his ears, so heart wrenching it made him want to throw up. "Tony!"

There was the sound of Rogers panting, no doubt trying to assess the situation, and Tony had to get up–

"Kid, I'm sorry, but he's wrong–" Rogers started.

"How? How?" Morgan's voice tore through the room, sharp as knives. "You're the one who is tearing your team–your family– apart! It doesn't matter if you're trying to save innocent people, because you're trying to kill other heroes, you're trying to kill him!"  

Tony struggled upright to see Rogers reaching a gentle hand towards her. "Kid... Morgan. He's wrong. The government should not control us, and it shouldn't be hunting innocent people, either. And I hate that it came down to this, but Tony's dangerous when he thinks he's right."

Morgan's glare was so full of venom it could have melted vibranium. "Maybe," she growled. "But you're just as dangerous."

Tony shot off a round of blasts, Rogers just barely jerking up his shield in time. Morgan drove her foot into his knee, the snap of splintering bone ripping through the fight. Rogers fell to one knee, a pained shout escaping him. Barnes snarled, swiping at Morgan. She rolled out of the way, falling in a crouch beside Tony.

"On three?" She said, her eyes burning with fury.

"On three," he agreed, watching the Rogues regroup. "One."

"Two." She pulled out her last two orbs.

"Three!"

Tony activated his gauntlets, shooting forward. Morgan flew beside him, already on target. In a fluid moment, they knocked down the Rogues, staying on top of them as they crashed to the ground.

Barnes struggled under Tony's grip, trying to claw his way out. He went for the arc reactor, but Tony picked him up by the throat and threw him. Steve rolled to the side, just narrowly avoiding Morgan's punch.

She tossed an orb at Steve, who just managed to stagger to his feet. Wires shot around him, trapping him as electricity arced through the metal. He fell again, body convulsing as the electricity snapped.

"Good job, kid!" Tony praised.

"Thanks," she said, shooting him a smile. "I–"

The shield shot through the air, nailing Tony right in the chest. The arc reactor sparked as he smashed into the ground. With a groan, Tony blinked, trying to reorient himself. He had to get up, had to fight, had to protect…

Tony shoved himself upright, panic freezing him in place as Barnes charged at an unaware Morgan.

"Kid, look out!"

She spun around a second too late. Barnes punched her right in the face, and Morgan cried out, stumbling backwards. Barnes grabbed her wrist and spun her around, trapping her in his iron grip.

"Morgan!" Tony tried to fly to her, but his suit wasn't responding, it could barely move, but he had to save her, had to protect–

With a yell, Steve broke free of the wires and grabbed Tony, slamming him to the ground.

"Just give up, Tony," Steve panted. "You're not gonna win."

"I'm trying to protect you, not win," Tony spat, struggling to break free.

Steve just pinned him down, eyes flashing.

"Then you're doing a horrible job at it," Steve growled. "Because there's nothing left to protect now."

A scream echoed through the room. Tony strained against Rogers' grip, just enough to see Morgan: kicking and screaming, stuck in the Winter Soldier's hold, hurt and bleeding.

"Not yet," Tony growled, even as his body screamed, his head spun, as the world tumbled down… he didn't give up. "I still have something."

"So do I!"

"That monster? Look at all he's done, look at what he's doing right now!" Panic shot through Tony as Morgan screamed his name, thrashing and crying. "She's just a kid!"

"He's my friend!"

"So was I!" Tony screamed back.

Steve just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony had half a second to brace for his inevitable death.

Then his hand fell, and everything went black.

***

It had been months, and still, Morgan saw Ben, gasping for breath, every time she closed her eyes. No matter what she did, how long and hard she fought, how many people she save, Morgan couldn't forget how his blood felt like beneath her hands, how suffocating the silence was after his heart stopped, how much it killed her to watch her father figure die.

This wasn’t the same, not even close, but still–!

Still.

A part of her broke when Steve punched Tony and he…

He went silent.

Still and silent and oh please–

Not again.

Morgan had known Tony for maybe a day, and in that span of 24 hours, he’d blackmailed her, lied to his aunt, and done so much more–but he’d also let her help. He'd let her fight and save people and help when no one else did. And, above all, he’d let her see that there was a heart underneath that metal suit, beating and bruised and there. She’d watched him cradle his dying best friend, she ate burgers with him on a hospital floor, and chased Captain America all the way to Siberia to make things right. Morgan had seen, firsthand, how they were both hellbent on helping others, no matter what–and while they might be in the wrong, didn't that count for something...?

They barely knew each other, and Tony Stark sure as hell wasn’t a father figure to her, but he was damn close enough.

And now she was watching him die.

And she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

It really was Uncle Ben all over again.

She couldn't save anyone.

Morgan's throat burned, and she didn't know why, didn’t realize she was screaming until Bucky pinned her arms as she thrashed, trying to get to Tony, and she was in that alleyway and it was snowy and blood–

"I'm sorry," was all Bucky said, and Morgan just screamed.

"Mister Stark!" Don't give up, not yet, don't die, please no– "Tony!"

"Buck, let her go."

The order rang through the still air, and with a sob, she was released to fall onto the cold concrete ground.

"You’re horrible!" she screamed, because there were tears on her cheeks and blood on her hands, and she felt twelve all over again; young and helpless, watching her mother beat her siblings, watching Ben die, watching and never saving–just hurting–with great power comes great responsibility and–

Why didn't you save him?

“You’re a monster.”

Captain America just stared at her for a long moment.

His blue eyes were hard and icy, but sad and scared and human.

Why were they fighting each other if they were both human?

Why did they kill other humans?

Why?

“I know,” Steve Rogers said, letting his shield fall to the ground. Sometime during the fight, it had cracked into two–the jagged edge of the vibranium red and twisted.

Just like the both of them.

Broken.

“Let’s go.”

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers threw their arms around each other and stumbled to the exit, beaten and bloodied, and left without another word.

Morgan just stared at the shattered shield and cried.

Chapter Text

May blinked. 

Her apartment was silent and dark, save for the TV's blue light, picking apart the superhero showdown in Germany piece by piece...

Wait.

Superhero…?

Ring-ring-ring!

Shit!

Morgan.

May shot upright, panic searing through her veins. Fuck, she hadn't meant to fall asleep! May had just been watching Morgan's location, the blue dot pulsing as it headed to the snowy mountains of–

Her phone rang, urgent and harsh, and where–?

There!

She dove at the couch, tearing away blankets and pillows in a frazzled frenzy. “Where is it, where is it…” May muttered as she pried a couch cushion away. "Come on–!"

When the couch cushion peeled away, her phone’s ringtone went from muffled to shrill.

Gotcha.

May snatched her phone up, heart skipping several beats as the screen lit up with the name Miss Mad Scientist. "Shit, shit, shit–" She smashed the accept button and scrambled to her feet.

“Morgan? Honey, is everything alright?” May swore under her breath as she tripped over the coffee table. "Shit–! Sorry, I just woke up, but I'm here–where are you? I'll come, just give me–" She grunted as she stubbed her toe on Ben's old rocking chair. "–a minute."

Silence.

"Morgan? Sweetie, are you there?" May stumbled through the dark room, blindly searching for something, anything. "Morgan?"

A ragged gasp crackled through the speaker.

May froze.

“...Morgan?”

A sniffle.

"Morgan, sweetie, you're scaring me."

Memories of Morgan's first night at their apartment surfaced, the helplessness of watching her niece lock herself away drowning May once again... Of Ben, holding her close as they tried to convince Morgan to just let them in.  

"Morgan, just let us in–"

"I'm fine!" She screamed back, voice broken and raw. "I'm FINE!"

May let her head thunk against the bathroom door, tears springing in her eyes.

"Morgan," she whispered, heart twisting, "I can't reach you."

Her niece just sobbed harder, and May's heart broke.

God, May wasn't sure she could survive another night like that.

Especially if Ben wasn't here to help pick up the pieces.

May sucked in a shaking breath, hands trembling but voice steady.

Please, let me in.

"Morgan? Are you there?"

Another pained gasp, then–

“May?”

The word was small and terrified, but it was there, and at the moment, that was all that mattered. May slumped against the wall, gripping the door frame as relief shuddered through her bones.

"I got you," May whispered when the door finally opened, when Morgan collapsed into her arms, when the world was crumbling... but it was okay, it was all okay, because they had each other... "I always got you."

“Hey, sweetheart." May blinked away a few tears, lifting her head up in a silent prayer. Thank you. “Are you okay?”

Her strangled sob shattered all of May's brief relief and sent her right back into panic.

"Morgan?"

“Um, n–not really…” Morgan coughed, hard and wet, and May's stomach plummeted. “But someone else needs help more, but I don’t… I don’t know how–”

"Breathe," May commanded, "Don't spiral, just focus. What do you mean, you don't know how?"

“I… well… ugh,” Morgan huffed. “This would probably be easier over a video call–”

“Okay, I can switch over." May flicked open the settings on her phone, ready to switch over, to help –

“Wait, May, just–" Another shaky exhale. "Just promise not freak out, okay?” Morgan’s voice shook with a humorless chuckle, the laughter cracking open at the end. “Because I’m already kind of about to fall apart, but I can’t do that right now–because I have to help, May, you have to understand, I have to–but if you freak out, I'll freak out and–”

“Hey, hey, Morgan, take a breath." May flicked on the kitchen light and glanced at the time. 12:30 PM. "I'll be calm, hon, I always am."

Morgan snorted. "Like hell you are," she muttered. "You lost your fucking mind the first time I got a cut, remember?"

"It was a big cut!" A breath of laughter left her lips. "But fine, I get it, I'm a bit overprotective when it comes to you, but I’ll be calm, I promise.”  

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Okay." Morgan whispered. "Okay."

“I’ll be back in one sec, alright?"

"Okay."

Morgan ended the call.

May started a video call and gripped the counter as the ringtone hummed, once, twice…

Click.

“May?”

Morgan…

Oh, Morgan looked terrible.

It was a good thing she was holding onto the counter top, otherwise May might have keeled over right then and there.

“Morgan, what on Earth–”

“May, please,” Morgan pleaded, but May barely heard it. Even through the choppy connection, May could see the dirt and bruises and, oh, the blood– “May, I need you to focus.”

“Right, right, okay, um, what–” May cleared her throat as her voice broke. Stay calm, dammit! “What do you need?”

Morgan shuffled around, causing the screen to blur. "How do I do this," she muttered. "Um, here, just let me–" Movement, crackling speakers, and Morgan turned the phone around, allowing another figure to fill the screen...

“What the fuck,” was all May could say.

Because there lay an unconscious Tony Stark trapped in a warped Iron Man suit

“May!” Morgan squawked. “Please focus before I start crying again!” The poor attempt at humor crumbled as her voice trembled.“I’m hanging on by a fucking thread here.”

“Right, right." May sucked in a deep breath and rubbed away the building migraine. She was an ER nurse, she dealt with crazier things every day, she could do this. “What–um, what do you think is wrong?”

“He’s not waking up, but the armor is dead, so I can’t actually do anything, and May, I think Captain America might have actually– killed him–”

“Easy, Morgan, deep breaths.” May studied Stark, her brow pinching in thought. “Can you… I dunno… tear it off?”

Silence.

“Sorry, that was dumb, you probably can’t if it’s made out of metal–” May began, her mind racing for other solutions –

But Morgan just laughed.

It was watery and choked, but she fucking laughed.

“No–no, May, it’s just... I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” Morgan settled the phone on–something, she couldn’t tell what–before stepping into the frame again. “Shit, I’m an idiot.”

May's response died in her throat as she got another look at her kid.

The shock of her bloody face had been bad enough, but now that May could see the rest of Morgan, it was... it was her worst nightmare, because she was so fucking hurt.

Morgan was wearing nothing but torn up leggings and a bloodied sports bra, nearly every inch of her exposed skin bruised or bleeding. Her black hoodie was tied around her ribs, no doubt a makeshift bandage, but blood still leaked down her too-pale skin, and–

And then Morgan reached down, grabbed the edge of Stark’s chest plate, and pulled.

The metal screeched and May nearly dropped her phone in shock. But Morgan just grit her teeth and kept going; sparks flew and wires snapped as Morgan ripped the metal in two.

Finally, it came free, and Morgan tossed it to the side, panting.

May was absolutely fucking speechless.

“Morgan–"

“Please don’t freak out,” Morgan begged, leaning over Stark’s body to pry the other half of his chest plate off. 

“How am I supposed to not freak out?” It was a demand, it was a whisper, it was every shade of what the fuck May could muster up in her exhausted body, because what the fuck?!

“Will it help if I promise that at least this part is normal?” Morgan shoved the other half of the chest plate away. "More or less?"

“Since when is this normal?”

Morgan’s face pinched–whether it was in pain, guilt, or a mixture, May couldn’t tell–as she leaned down to inspect Stark’s arc reactor. “Uh. Awhile.” She finally gave up on studying it and just tore it out, yelping as electricity arced between her fingers. “Shit, that hurts.” Morgan tossed it to the side and shook out her burned fingers. “Okay, almost there.”

May was still stuck on the awhile part, however. “What do you mean, awhile? You–you’ve never been able to–I don’t know–” she gestured at the screen with a frustrated half-shout.

“I’ve always been strong, you know that.” Morgan dug her fingers into the mess of circuit boards and wires, clawing them away with restrained fury. “Remember how we met?”

“How could I forget?” May pinched the bridge of her nose. “A twelve year old with a cracked rib–”

“–and a broken arm, don’t forget that part–”

“–and a broken arm just showed up in my ER one night.”

“With two siblings!”

“...that you carried nearly three miles by yourself.” May sighed. “Morgan, I know… I know you’re strong, but not like… like…”

“Superpowers?”

“Yeah,” May murmured as Morgan ripped the last of the metal off of Stark. “Superpowers.”

“It’s a long story,” Morgan conceded as she pressed a hand to his chest. She still tilted her head, eyes narrowing in concentration. “His heart’s still beating,” she noted after several seconds. “And he’s breathing.”

Normally, May would have told her niece to use a more reliable method, like taking someone's pulse, but one: she trusted Morgan, and two: she had a feeling Morgan knew what she was talking about. So, May let it go with a strained breath and moved onto the next problem.

“Okay. Anything broken?”

“Not from what I can tell...” Morgan's eyes flickering from Stark’s chest to face, lips pinching into a frown. “But now that I’m listening more closely... he is breathing a little funny.”

“Put me close.”

Morgan scooped up the phone and held it close to the unconscious billionaire. May strained to hear his threadbare breaths, but sure enough, Morgan was right. Every breath was just slightly hitched, pointing to either fractured ribs or–

“Have you checked for head injuries?”

“Uh, yeah.” Morgan propped the phone up again, her bloody face coming back into focus. “He was bleeding from the head a bit, but I put pressure on it until it stopped. And I didn’t see any swelling, so...”

The ER nurse in May knew that could just mean the swelling was going inward, which was arguably way worse, but that was the last thing Morgan needed to hear right now. Especially since Morgan wouldn't have been able to anything about it, even if it were true. So, time to switch tactics.

“His ribs might be bruised then. Any other injuries you noticed?”

“No... I, uh, stopped the bleeding, panicked, and called you.”

"Good.” May pushed herself away from the counter top, spinning towards the door. “I would just focus on getting him out of his armor, then, so he can be transported to the nearest hospital. But be careful, just in case–”

“–of a spine injury.” Morgan frowned. “But, May, where... where are you going?”

“To you.” May slipped on her shoes. “Why?”

Morgan barked out a laugh, all sharp and humorless and a little frantic. “May, you can’t–I’m in Siberia,” she settled on. “Like, middle of nowhere, secret HYDRA base Siberia. You won’t–”

“Oh, yes, I will.” May grabbed her keys, a jacket, and her purse. “Keep your location on, you hear?”

“But–”

“And call me if you need anything else.”

“May–”

“And I swear on my husband's grave that if you bleed out in that godforsaken place, I will drag you back from the afterlife myself, you hear?”

Morgan's jaw snapped shut, eyes wide with shock.

"Got it?"

“Got it,” Morgan muttered, voice small but brave. Oh, so brave. If May wasn’t so utterly terrified for her child, she’d be so proud. “But how are you going to get here?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just keep you two alive, okay?”

“Okay.” A beat. Then– “May…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” 

May melted . "I love you too, sweetheart." She smiled at Morgan, her niece, her kid. God, how did May get so lucky? "I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay." Morgan smiled back, eyes shining with something akin to hope. There's my girl. "Be safe.”

"Only if you are."

"I always am."

Beep.

The call ended, and May was left alone in her empty apartment.

For a moment, she was sure that the sight of Morgan’s name fading from her screen would break her heart.

It did, after all, that fateful night she lost half of her soul.

"May, what do we do?" Morgan clung to May, desperate and heartbroken, as they stood in front of Ben's grave. "What can we do?"

May closed her eyes, rain slipping down her cheeks and tears burning in her eyes. "Whatever we can, sweetheart, whatever we can," she whispered, shivering from the cold, because Ben wasn't there by her side, wrapping her up in his warm arms and all she could think was I can't reach you. "Whatever we can."

Morgan buried her face into May's shoulder and let out a sob. "Fucking hell, May you can't just... use Ben's saying like that, not when..."

"But it's true." May pressed her cheek on top of Morgan's head, strands of her dark hair sticking to her skin. "He'd want us to help everyone he can't, wouldn't he?"

She choked back a sob as a shudder wracking through her body. "I don't know who I can help right now."

May cradled her niece closer. "Then let me help you." She pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Let me in, let me reach you, let me help."

Morgan didn't answer, and May was too tired to fight her, so they just held each other as their world crumbled.

But this time was different.

Because Morgan had reached out, she had let her in, she was asking her to help.

Morgan was asking May to help her, and May would be damned if she let her down.

So, she squared her shoulders and marched out the door.

She was an ER nurse, she was an aunt, she was May fucking Parker.

One way or another, she was going to help her kid.

Even if it meant breaking a few laws.

***

Lily woke up to pounding on her door.

She groaned and stuffed her head under her pillow, desperate to silence the noise. However, whoever was there was determined to be heard, and merely banged on the door louder.

“Isn’t someone going to get that?!” she shouted at the wall. All she wanted to do was sleep, dammit, because she was so fucking tired. Without Morgan at school to help alleviate the stress, Lily was exhausted. Surely, one of her siblings could give her the small mercy of answering the door for her, right?

However, once silence met her ears, Lily remembered that her family had left town this weekend to go visit one of their hundreds of relatives...

Which meant she was home alone, with a potential murderer trying to break down her door, all while desperately missing her best friend.

Great. Just great.

Ugh. She hated her life.

With a huff, Lily threw her sheets off and stumbled out of her room. The pounding only grew more insistent as Lily came closer to the door, armed with a stapler and a pillow. Her sword and shield, as it were. Surely that would be enough to deter a maniac, right?

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Lily twisted the various locks. “Ugh, I swear, if it’s you, Flash, I will–”

She barely got the door unlocked before it slammed open, nearly smacking Lily in the face. She jumped back with a yelp as May Parker burst into her apartment, all disheveled scrubs and wild red hair.

"May, what in the world–"

“Lily! Thank God!" May grabbed Lily's wrist and dragged her further into the apartment. "Your parents aren’t home, right?”

“Uh–”

“Answer the question!”

Lily dropped the stapler and pillow as May stomped towards the coat racks. “No…?”

“Perfect.” May inspected the racks of coat hangers–full of various coats, bags, and keys–before scooping up her mother’s van keys. “Then your Mom won’t mind if I borrow her car for a little bit, right?”

Lily blinked. Opened her mouth. Frowned. “Uh…”

“Great!” May grinned, whipping around so fast she smacked Lily with her ponytail. "I'll have to send her a gift-card or something as a thank-you."

"I... sure?" Lily squinted at the nearby clock. 1:02. How... lovely. "Um, what do you need the van for–oh, okay."

"Hold this for me, would you?" May dumped the biggest first aid kit Lily had ever seen into her arms, then spun towards the door. "Come on, now, chop-chop!"

"Uh–"

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She waved her hand at Lily, coat sweeping out behind her like a superhero cape. Or maybe that was just the lighting. Or Lily's sleep-addled brain. Both seemed plausible at this point. “Get your shoes on!”

"Oh, right, sorry!" Lily scrambled to stuff her feet into her shoes, juggling the giant first aid kit in her hands. “Wait, where–where are we going?”

"To save my idiot child," May tossed over her shoulder as she tore out of the apartment. Lily stumbled after her, kicking the door shut before racing after her. “Did you grab your coat?”

“No–”

“Well, too late now.” May took the stairs three at a time. “You’ll just have to wear Morgan’s hoodie, but you’re about the same size, so it should fit.”

Now, Lily usually loved May’s electric demeanor, but at the current moment, it was just... disorienting. Lily had a million questions, the reporter in her begging for answers... but one question shouted louder than all the others, ringing in time with her heart. “Is… is Morgan in trouble?”

“Something like that.” They raced down the last flight of stairs (Lily tripping over her too-long pajama pants the whole way down) and May tore open the parking garage door.  She spammed the lock button on the keys until the van honked. “But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

They jogged across the parking garage, her mother's beat-up old van coming into view. “Wait, I thought… she was on a trip? For an internship thing?”

“Yeah, with Tony Stark.” May unlocked the van and swung herself in as Lily clambered into the passenger seat with the kit. May fired up the car, the engine revving underneath her steady hands. “But it got a lot more complicated, apparently.”

“How?”

“I have no idea. Morgan said something about Captain America?”

"I'm sorry, what–"

The words were knocked out of Lily the moment May threw the car into reverse, shooting out of the parking spot like a bullet. Lily let the first aid kit tumble the floor as she gripped the door, heart pounding as May ripped through the parking garage.

Lily very quickly buckled her seat belt.

"May–"

"–But that doesn't matter right now," May continued without missing a beat, "because we’ll figure the details out later. Right now, we just need to get to Morgan.”

"Do you know where she is?" The last vestiges of sleep were shaken away as May smashed through a left turn right as the arrow turned red. "And, uh, not that I'm not happy to help, but why do you want me to help?"

"Because you're good at this!" May swore as a ROAD WORK AHEAD sign came into view. "Hang on!"

Lily grabbed the 'oh shit' handle as May swerved, tires skidding across the asphalt as she nearly collided with three other cars, four pedestrians, and a streetlamp.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lily gritted out. "I–I can't help Morgan, okay?! She's been acting weird for weeks, but she won't tell me what's wrong, and she barely lets me ask her what's wrong–" She squeezed her eyes shut as May shot through an barely-there gap in the intersection. "Morgan doesn't want my help!"

"Yes, she does! She's just being a stubborn little shit about it!" May laid down the horn as she barreled through any and every obstacle. "Come on, you know how Morgan is! She's convinced she has to save everyone around her, including us!" The lights in windows blurred, whether from the speed or the tears, she couldn't tell. "But she forgets she needs help, too, like any sane human being, and so when she does–"

May slammed down on the gas, ramming through a ROAD CLOSED sign with a furious shout.

"We do whatever it takes to help her." Her eyes burned in the darkness of the night, fury and hope and love. "And–"

"I'd do anything to help Morgan." Lily's heart pounded, the truth spilling like cold water over her head. Morgan had done anything and everything to help Lily–hell, she punched Flash for her–even thought their friendship had been a little bit strained. And so why couldn't Lily do the same for Morgan? "Whether she likes it or not."

May grinned. "Glad we're on the same page." She tossed Lily her purse. "Plus, you're a lot better at this whole problem-solving thing than me."

"Really?" Lily glanced out the window, where the road was blurring past. "I think you're doing great."

"Well, I'm really only good at the breaking stuff part," May admitted. "And shouting at people. The whole puzzle-solving thing's a bit out of my patience levels."

Lily laughed, opening May's purse. She pulled out her phone, the screen lighting up in the dark car. The wallpaper was a picture of May, Ben, and Morgan, all grinning at the camera with whipped cream on their noses. "Alright, what am I puzzle-solving, then?"

Because May was right, Lily was good at this. Perks of being an aspiring reporter, after all: knowing how to gather the data, sort it, and choose a plan of action. If anyone could find answers about Morgan, it was Lily.

Besides, she already had one sneaking suspicion in her mind.

But that could wait until later.

"I have Morgan's location, but I don't know, well, how to get there," May explained as Lily opened her phone (she'd figured out May's password ages ago). "It's in Siberia, and that's not exactly close."

"No kidding," Lily muttered as she pulled up Morgan's location. "What the fuck is she doing there?"

"Well, she mentioned something about Captain America, and both her and Iron Man were pretty beat up, so–"

"Wait, Tony Stark was with her?"

“Yeah," May said, guiding them further into New York City. "Did I not mention that?"

"Well, you haven't exactly explained a lot since you kidnapped me."

“I did, didn’t I?” May sighed. “Sorry, Lily. The Metro is currently down because of this whole Civil War Scare–which is probably why Morgan's in trouble–and I needed to get where I was going fast, and… well, you were the only person I knew who had an available car.”

“It’s fine–well, I mean, my Mom will be pretty pissed, but I could care less.” Lily hummed, drumming her fingers on the phone case. A glowing blue dot, marking Morgan's location, pulsed in time with her heartbeat. "You're positive it was Tony Stark?"

May shot a glance at her. "What're you thinking?"

"Well, if he's in danger, too... then there might be someone who can help us." Lily pulled up Google Maps and punched in Avengers Tower. "Take this next left!"

May swung the van around. "I'm assuming this means you have a plan?"

"As long as you're up for breaking some stuff and yelling at some idiots, because that's a vital part of the plan."

"Please," May snorted, "that's basically what I do for a living."

Lily grinned. "Then we're gonna be just fine. Take this right."

The van's tires squealed. "Are there any other details to the plan?"

"Other than breaking a fuck-ton of laws? Not really." Lily tapped away on May's phone. "Well, not yet. I'm figuring the rest of it out right now. Oh, and keep going down this street for two more intersections, then turn right."

May glanced at her, a smile on her lips. "Thank you, Lily." She squeezed Lily's shoulder. "I mean it."

"I know you do." Lily squeezed her hand back. "It's like you said, I'd do anything to help Morgan. And I mean anything."

And she did, she really did. Because despite it all, she still loved Morgan Parker with her whole heart.

...which was whole other revelation she would have to deal with later, but that didn't matter.

Right now, she just had to save her best friend.

"I know, honey." May's eyes shone, bright and true. “I would, too.”

Lily grinned. “That's probably why we get along so well. Keeping that dumbass alive is hard work.”

"Ha!" May slapped the steering wheel. “You got that right. After this, I'm retiring from parenting, because my heart can't take the stress!"

Lily laughed as May whipped around another corner, her heart soaring and mind buzzing with excitement.

Hang on, Morgan.

I'm coming.

***

Tony had a headache. 

No, scratch that. A full blown, ear ringing, head pounding migraine.

Ugh. He hated hangovers.

“--ny other injuries?”

“Not that I can pick up on, no.”

Oh, that was JARVIS. Did someone get hurt? Oh, who was he kidding? It was probably him. He had a penchant for getting himself nearly killed when he got drunk.

“Thank goodness.”

Though, he had to say, the people who usually dragged him back home didn’t sound so relieved. More like… fondly exasperated.

Like Pepper.

Damn, he missed Pepper.

“Where’s Happy?”

Probably tearing through the New York streets cursing up a storm.

“I just alerted him that you and Boss are ready for a pick-up. He is on his way now.”

Yep, he was right. Wrecking havoc on the poor late-night drivers, as always.

“Well, tell him to hurry up! I don’t know how much longer we can last here.” 

That… didn’t sound right...

“He is going as fast as he can, Miss Smith.”

Who the fuck was Miss Smith?

“I already told you, FRIDAY, you can just call me Morgan.”

FRIDAY. Morgan. Why did he know those names?

“Apologies, Miss Smith. I’m afraid my programming is… uncooperative, at the moment.”

What? Why? That didn’t make any sense.

“I know, I know. I’m fairly sure it’s just because the suit got decimated, so don’t panic. Well… do, a little, because I really need Happy to show the fuck up, like, right now.”

What was going on?

“He is five minutes away, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan.

Morgan.

Shit!

Memories flooded back in–Rogers and Barnes and fighting–and the kid–

His eyes flew open and he shoved himself upright. "Kid!"

“Holy shit!” Morgan jumped, dropping the pieces of his helmet she had been holding. “Mister Stark! You’re awake!”

“What happened?” he rasped, vision swimming and head spinning but he had to know. "What..."

“You should lay back down." Morgan pushed on his shoulder, gentle but firm. “You’re hurt.”

“So are you,” Tony shot back, because his mind was going a million miles a minute and his head throbbed, but still, he could see it all–the fight, the red, the blood–

“Right now, I’m more at risk of hypothermia than anything, but thanks for the concern,” she drawled. “Now lay down.”

“Hypothermia?” Tony scrubbed the blurriness out of his eyes. “What?”

“Alright, long story short, I got bit by a radioactive spider, which gave me spider-like powers, and so now my body kind of acts like a spider. Which includes the fact I can’t regulate temperature, which really sucks when we're stuck inside a literal ice cave.”

“Kid–”

“Happy now?” She pushed at his shoulder again. “Now lay down. The back of your neck is bruised, and I don’t want to risk–”

Tony shook her hand off and slid his suit jacket off. It wasn’t made out of the warmest material, but it was all he had, so it would have to do. “Put this on,” he ordered, holding it out to her.

“Mister Stark–”

“Don't 'Mister Stark' me, little Miss Bossy-Pants.” He shoved the jacket into her hands. “Wear it.”

Morgan frowned, but her stubbornness quickly relented as a shiver wracked her body. She slipped the jacket on, wrapping the excess fabric tighter around her ribs. A dot of blood leaked through the dark material.

“Will you lay down now?” she muttered.

Tony just looked at Morgan. Really looked at her.

Her braid had fallen out completely at this point, leaving her hair wild and tangled. Her lips were tinted blue, and her skin was coated into grime and blood. She was trembling–whether from the the cold, shock, or exhaustion, he couldn’t tell–and looked about ready to fall over. And above all, there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes, receding and fading, but there all the same.

“Nuh-uh, not when you’re looking like death warmed over.” Tony winced as his suit groaned underneath him. “Um, but now that my Plan A has fallen to pieces, how are we getting out of here?”

“Happy should be on his way.” She glanced at the helmet pieces scattered across the ground. “How long, FRIDAY?”

“Two minutes.”

“He’s close.”

Tony shook his head, trying to beat the migraine away, as well as the sudden chill sinking in his bones. Every inch of him burned with exhaustion, but he couldn’t let it get to him. Not yet.

He had to know.

“What… what happened?” he tried again, taking in their surroundings.

His suit lay in pieces around him, wires ripped out and metal twisted crudely, utterly unsalvageable. Except for the helmet beside Morgan, which flickered weakly because of how the arc reactor was very precariously hooked up to it... which was probably how she resurrected FRIDAY, smart kid.

But most of all, Morgan looked absolutely exhausted, terrified, and hurt.

He had to know why.

Morgan shivered, drawing the jacket closer around her, shrinking into herself. “Well, uh... Rogers and Barnes left after they knocked you out, I freaked out as I tried to stop the bleeding from your head until I got my shit together and called my aunt, and we made sure you were alive… then, I kinda grabbed your helmet so I could reboot FRIDAY–which is so cool, by the way, even if she’s being a bit glitchy right now–and get a message to Happy because I realized I don't have his phone number, which was a bit of a stupid problem to have... anyway...” she blinked up at him. “And now we’re trying not to freeze to death.”

Tony stared at her for a long, long, long moment.

Then, he reached a hand up to his head, brushing his fingertips across the dried blood there.

“Kid,” he said. Dumbfounded. “You saved my life.”

She just stared back at him, equally dumbfounded. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Tony let a beat pass–one, two, three–before he laughed. It warped into a cough, but it didn’t matter, because holy shit.

"You saved my life, kid, you realize that?"

"Well, you saved mine, too, so we're even."

Tony frowned. "My memories are still a bit hazy, but I'm fairly certain that all I've done the past couple of days is drag you into trouble."

"Wha–oh, no, I'm not talking about all of..." she gestured at the cave, "this. You, ah, saved my life when I was little? You probably don't remember."

Well, now he had to know. "Try me."

"At the Stark Expo? When everything went to shit, I tried to get between my siblings and a drone, but then–"

"That was you?!" Tony Stark lived a very unpredictable life, so he was rather used to being slapped in the face with surprises, but this might have been the most shocking of them all.

"You remember?" Morgan grinned, looking all too pleased for almost having gotten herself killed. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"Yes, I remember!" Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. "A kid wearing an Iron Man mask tried to face down a drone instead of running away like a sane person! And it turned out that crazy kid was you! Because of course it was!"

Morgan just laughed. "Well, you made being a hero look so easy! I thought for sure if I tried hard enough..."

Tony shook his head, clapping a hand on Morgan's shoulder with a laugh. "Kid, you might be the most insane person I’ve ever met, which is really saying something, because I’ve meet a lot of crazy people.”

She grinned. “Well, you’re definitely not the craziest person I’ve ever met,” she shot back, eyes gleaming. “But definitely the stupidest.”

And Tony laughed, and then she laughed again, and then they were both bent in two, wheezing over everything and nothing at all. They were both bruised seven ways to Sunday, but they were alive and (more or less) okay, and the weight on Tony's chest lifted, just a smidgen, just enough to laugh.

Because even though everything was wrong, the world was falling apart, and there was a broken shield by his feet…

At least they were alive.

And they had each other.

When did he get so sentimental?

The shock probably wasn’t helping with that, though. Or the blood loss. Or the hypothermia.

Speaking of which…

The whir of a jet sounded outside.

Tony carefully picked himself up, wincing at every wrong movement. But, like he always did, Tony got back on his feet.

He glanced at the kid and held a hand out to her. "Ready?"

In an instant, the fear in her eyes melted into something akin to hope.

Morgan accepted his hand, allowing Tony to pull her upright. "Ready."

Together, they stumbled their way to the exit, arms thrown over each others' shoulders. It was hard to tell who was supporting who, or who was leading the way back home, but Tony found he didn’t care much.

Because at least, finally, he wasn't trying to save the world all on his lonesome.

He’d forgotten how much easier life was when you weren’t going through it alone.

Tony didn't glance back once as they stumbled out into the Siberian snow.

They left the shattered shield and warped armor on the frozen ground.