Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony woke up in a field.

It was nothing remarkable. One minute the wind was sweeping through the grass, the next a pained groan disturbed the silence. His sudden presence seemed to go unnoticed by the rest of the world. Birds continued to cry in the trees, the rabbits mere feet away continued to hop through the overgrown thickets. The world kept turning. But Tony Stark was alive.

The scent of damp earth permeated the air and the rough scratch of grass against his fingers an awakening sensation. His body ached in a way that went beyond pain—it was like his cells themselves had been wrung out and left to dry. Every breath rattled in his chest, his lungs working overtime just to keep up.

Where the hell was he?

He blinked sluggishly, vision swimming. The sky stretched above him, a dull overcast grey, and beyond it, jagged metal structures loomed like the bones of a long-dead beast. It took him too long to realise what he was looking at.

The Avengers Compound. Or what was left of it.

The wreckage was untouched. Grass had overtaken what used to be paved walkways, vines creeping up shattered walls. It was eerie—like a grave left undisturbed out of reverence.

His fingers curled into the dirt. The last thing he remembered was… the fight. The snap. The unbearable burning in his veins. And then—

His body rebelled as he tried to move. His suit, once a second skin, was deadweight, pieces hanging off him like a discarded shell, and FRIDAY’s absence was a heavy weight in and of itself, but he kept pushing. His arc reactor flickered weakly in his chest, more of a sputtering candle than a guiding light.

Then, like an unsung prayer, the roar of an approaching jet silenced his struggles.

He barely had the strength to turn his head before the aircraft landed, kicking up dirt and dead leaves. The ramp lowered, and a figure ran out, moving faster than he’d ever seen her move before. A flash of blonde hair.

Pepper.

She didn’t slow down. Not as she took in the sight of him—collapsed, barely conscious, half-buried in the overgrowth. Not as a sob tore from her throat. And certainly not before she dropped to her knees beside him, hands shaking as they hovered over his chest, his face, his arms, as if trying to believe he was real.

"Tony? Tony—oh my God, Tony." Her voice broke, and then her hands were on him, framing his face, brushing back sweat-dampened hair. "You—" Her breath hitched. "You died. I watched you—"

He tried to smirk, but his lips barely obeyed. "Yeah, about that… Turns out, death is overrated."

A choked laugh escaped her, though it was mostly a sob. Her grip tightened, like if she let go, he might disappear again.

"You absolute—idiot." She pressed her forehead against his, tears warm against his skin. "You left us. You left me."

"Not by choice, Pep," he murmured, voice weaker than he wanted it to be. "You know me. Always gotta make an entrance. Just—took me a while to find my way back."

A small, watery laugh. The suit was bulky and it was awkward, but her arms held him tight even as his thighs began to give out and he fell back towards the ground. He was losing himself in her grief-stricken eyes, heart breaking for every tear that ran down her face. He had questions, so many questions.

He pulled back, leveling her with a strained but serious face, “Pepper, please. I have to know. Did we win? Did I do it? I don’t-"

And then, a soft, hesitant voice from the top of the ramp interrupted that train of thought.

"Mom?"

Tony stilled. His heart nearly stopped.

Slowly, painfully, he turned his head. A girl stood at the entrance of the jet, silhouetted against the light. She was taller than he remembered. Older. Her hair had grown longer, curling slightly at the ends. But it was the eyes—the uncertainty in them, the flicker of recognition battling with hesitation—that gutted him.

"Maguna?" His voice barely held.

She didn't move at first. Just stared.

Pepper turned, eyes red-rimmed. "Sweetheart, come here."

Morgan hesitated, then took tentative steps down the ramp. She was clutching something in her hands—a worn Iron Man helmet, much too big for her. The one he’d given her to play with when she was still small enough to fit in his lap.

He swallowed hard. "Hey, kiddo."

Morgan stopped just in front of him, her grip tightening on the helmet. "You…" Her voice was quiet. "You were gone."

Tony felt his throat close up. He nodded. "Yeah. I was, Mo. But I'm here now."

Her lip wobbled. Then, before he could even prepare himself, she launched herself forward, knocking into his chest. His arm, weak as it was, came up instinctively, pulling her close. He resolutely ignored the absence of movement in the other one.

Letting her comb a hand through his hair, Tony's eyes fell shut as Pepper wrapped around them both, and they sat there, on the overgrown ground, holding onto each other like gravity might take him away again.

Tony Stark woke up in a field five years after the world mourned his death.

He did not know how or why. Neither did anyone else.

Less than an hour after Pepper and Morgan had come to his rescue, Tony was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor, lying in bed. They’d had the sense not to go public, and fortunately, by some miracle, Pepper had been sentimental enough to keep their old resident doctor on call.

Dr. Cho entered the room, stopping dead in her tracks. For a long moment, she just stared,, speechless, then let out a breathless laugh. "Tony Stark. Alive. Of all the things I expected today..."

Tony gave a weak smirk. "Yeah, well. Thought I'd mix things up. Keep everybody on their toes."

She shook her head, stepping closer to check his vitals. She was quiet for a while and he hummed, staring at the ceiling. When she spoke, it wasn’t harsh but there was no hesitation. That’s why he liked her. Down to the point. "Your body went through an unimaginable trauma. You're still alive, but barely. Frankly, it's a miracle."

He laughed, “Miracle, perhaps. Doesn’t feel like a miracle. Feels like justice.”

Dr. Cho's smile faded slightly as she flipped through her notes. "Tony… your right arm. The tissue is completely necrotic. The damage is irreversible. We’re going to have to amputate."

Tony exhaled slowly, absorbing the news. "Huh. Small price to pay for saving the universe, I guess."

Dr. Cho met his gaze, sympathy softening her features. "You're lucky to be here at all."

They chatted for a short while longer, falling back into their old banter. Dr. Cho wasn’t exactly someone he’d considered himself very close to yet looking back, he almost felt guilty for not thinking of her more. He made note to invite her to any future gatherings. Pepper certainly wouldn’t mind.

Shortly after she left with a reminder to stay still whilst his wounds healed, the door creaked open again. Bare feet padded across the floor. Morgan climbed into bed beside him without a word, curling into his chest. He wrapped his good arm around her, holding her close as she drifted off. She was a lot bigger now, and he had to shift over to give her enough room, but she was still his girl.

Tony Stark had lost a lot. But, as he pressed a kiss to Morgan’s hair and listened to her soft breathing, he realised he still had everything that truly mattered.

The hour was late and Tony was meant to be in bed around now. ‘Doctor’s orders’. When was he ever a stickler for the rules thought. Their TV (it was the size of the wall, who was he kidding) flickered in the dimly lit room as Morgan curled up beside Tony under a blanket. Tony had allowed Morgan to persuade him into watching her favourite movie. Pepper had headed off to bed before they put it on with a reminder to go to bed soon and yet as soon as she disappeared up the stairs, Morgan had turned her large puppy eyes on him.

“Please, dad. I’m 10 years old. I don’t have to go to bed at nine thirty anymore. Just one movie. Please?”

It was some animated flick he’d never seen and she was utterly engrossed. Tony, on the other hand, felt his eyelids growing heavier even as the robot-mother pulled at his heart strings. What can he say? He’s a middle-aged man, he needed his sleep. By some miracle or another, before long, Morgan shifted against him, her breathing slowing as she drifted off. He smiled softly, pressing a light kiss to her hair before sleep took him too.

In the early hours of the morning as Pepper got up for a glass of water, she passed the dozing pair with a soft smile. Making sure to cover them with a soft blanket, she headed back to bed. If Tony wanted back ache that was fine but she was much happier with their soft mattress upstairs.

The kitchen was a disaster. Flour dusted the counters, a suspiciously burnt pancake sat on a plate, and Morgan stood triumphantly, spatula in hand. "Breakfast is served!" she declared, beaming as she slid a pancake onto Tony’s plate.

It had been a week or so since Tony had been brought back to where Pepper and Morgan had been living for the last few years. Somehow, Morgan took that to be enough time to celebrate his coming home anniversary (Pepper did try to explain the anni- prefix came from the word annual denoting yearly however Morgan ignored this) and this equated to hand made goods.

She’d brought him a sparkly card in bed and a cup of hot chocolate (Tony felt like he was drinking diabetes from how sweet it was) and ordered them not to get up until she’d finished in the kitchen. Pepper smiled fondly when he floundered in the minutes that followed her declaration.

Now sat at the counter top as he took a bite and fought every muscle in his face not to grimace.

"Mmm," he said, swallowing with difficulty. "That is… uniquely textured."

Pepper raised an eyebrow as she took her own cautious bite. "Morgan, sweetheart, I think you might’ve used salt instead of sugar."

Morgan’s face fell, and Tony quickly ruffled her hair. "Don’t worry, kid. We’ll workshop it. Maybe start with smaller fires next time."

It had been well over a month since Tony had been “back”. And fresh out of surgery, he was stood on the balcony of their country house rolling his shoulder. Dr. Cho may have anticipated a fight against the amputation however she couldn’t have been more wrong. Tony had worked on, albeit reluctantly, the Winter Soldier’s prosthetic arm before. And if that wasn’t enough incentive to get creative, he didn’t know what was.

For the last few weeks he had been workshopping various ideas for a pain-free, multi-functional prosthetic with FRIDAY (God bless her artificial soul, Tony was so glad to find her still online) and Morgan had “helped” by designing some colour schemes. Which was why it was this turquoise colour and not his signature red. Nevertheless, it was working nicely. And he could always use nano-technology to change the appearance on short notice. Ah, the trivial things.

They were in the garden. Tony flexed his new prosthetic, rolling his shoulder again and again as he adjusted to the unfamiliar weight. The metal gleamed in the sunlight. He was still getting used to it—every motion was a reminder of what he’d lost, but also what he had gained.

Morgan, frisbee in hand, grinned up at him. "Daddy, catch!"

She threw it wildly, and Tony barely managed to react in time, snatching it from the air. Morgan gasped. "Whoa! You’re like a superhero! Like the man in the news."

Tony smirked, tossing it back gently. "Kid, I am a superhero. Now get ready, 'cause I'm not going easy on you."

Chapter Text

They were eating lunch in the garden when it happened.

Morgan lay sprawled on the grass, her sketchpad balanced on her knees as she filled the page with colourful doodles. The sun was warm but not overbearing, casting a golden glow over the garden. Pepper lounged on a sunbed, sunglasses perched on her nose, one hand resting on Tony’s as he reclined beside her. He felt… peaceful. A rare thing these days. His body still ached, his prosthetic still felt foreign, but here, with his girls, everything felt okay.

Then, the air shifted.

A crackle, faint at first, then sharp like the snap of static electricity. Tony’s instincts screamed before his mind caught up. He was on his feet in an instant, heart hammering against his ribs. His sudden movement sent the sunbed rocking, and Pepper reached out, steadying him with a firm hand.

A few meters away, reality split apart with a flickering, golden light. A familiar looking portal sizzled into existence, swirling and unstable. Tony’s fingers twitched—uselessly. He had no suit, no repulsors. Just his mind, his body, and whatever this was about to throw at him.

And then, a figure stepped through.

Stephen Strange looked different. Older. Tired. There were new lines on his face, his beard flecked with more grey. The cloak draped over his shoulders billowed slightly as he stepped forward, his sharp gaze locking onto Tony with something between disbelief and something darker.

A voice rang out from the other side of the portal—sharp, urgent. “Strange—wait—!”

Stephen flicked his wrist, and the portal snapped shut before the voice could say more.

Tony exhaled sharply. "Jesus, Strange, you can’t just—" He stopped short, really looking at Strange now. There was grief there, tangled with something dangerously close to accusation.

"Tell me this isn’t what it looks like," Strange said, voice low. "Tell me you didn’t let us believe you were dead for five years."

Tony blinked. Then scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh, yeah, sure. I just decided to take a five-year vacation in the afterlife. You should see the amenities."

Strange wasn’t amused. His fingers twitched at his side, as if resisting the urge to conjure something, to force an answer out of him. "This doesn’t make sense. We mourned you. We buried you."

Tony opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a small voice cut through the tension.

"Don’t take my dad away again."

Morgan stood now, her sketchpad abandoned on the grass. Her big brown eyes were fixed on Strange, her small hands balled into fists at her sides. There was something fierce in her stance—her mother’s strength and his own stubbornness wrapped into one tiny frame.

Something in Strange’s posture shifted. The fire in his eyes dimmed slightly. He exhaled, tension rolling from his shoulders, and ran a hand over his face. "Explain."

Tony did. He told Strange everything—the last thing he remembered before dying, waking up in the ruins of the compound, how the universe apparently wasn’t done with him yet. By the time he was done, Strange was sitting on Tony’s sunbed, fingers pressed together in thought, while Pepper and Tony sat opposite him on hers.

“It shouldn’t be possible.”

“I know.”

“No, really. It’s not possible. The Infinity Stones aren’t- we ended it. It’s over. How did we not notice this? You say you’ve been back for months?”

Tony nodded, feeling for the wizard, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It felt kind of insignificant to me too.”

“Don’t say that!” Pepper chided, shoving his shoulder and then apologetically rubbing his back, “Having you back is more than we could ever have asked for.”

Tony smiled at her fondly, taking her hand as he turned his attention back to their guest, “The point is, even the sorcerer supreme can make mistakes every now and then.”

There was a long silence before Strange finally said, "That would be Wong. He got it on a technicality because I blipped for five years."

Tony laughed and the triviality of the statement. World-ending shit and it was like they were kids. It’s not like Tony could speak anyway, he was exactly the same. Maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to hate the guy even after he sacrificed the stone for Tony’s life.

From the mildly amused expression on Strange’s face, he knew the sarcasm would be taken the right way when he joked, “Damn. Demoted. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, Strange. Too bad I  wasn’t there to see it.”

“Call me Stephen.”

Tony blinked. Then, slowly, he extended a hand. "Tony."

They shook, the gesture firm, sincere. A weight lifted, just a little. Stephen’s eyes were much softer than when they had first met, and Tony believed a genuine close relationship could form between them in time. This was just the first step.

Moments later, Stephen’s eyes zeroed in on something behind them and Tony turned around to see Morgan peaking at them through the patio doors.

“Do you want to say hi, Mo?”

She shook her head. Tony smiled fondly and turned back to the wizard, “That’s my little girl.”

Stephen nodded looking a little sad, “I met her at your funeral. She was a lot smaller then.”

It was a strange (no pun intended) look, an almost mournful weight to it as though remembering someone else in her place. Tony made a note to check if Stephen once had kids. He doubted it but you never know.

“You’ve got to come around more often, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.” The invitation was clear.

The smile on Stephen’s face was sincere, and he felt Pepper lean into his side as Strange nodded, “I’m sure I can fit a few trips into my schedule.”

“You better,” Tony joked. “Who else am I gonna talk about space with?”

Something about that statement was bugging him and yet the thoughts slid away like water off a duck. He shook it off, giving Pepper a squeeze as Strange stood, opening another portal. From the other side, Wong’s voice snapped, "Stephen! What did I tell you about running off—"

Tony smirked as he watched Morgan’s eyes widen. As soon as the portal closed she came bounding outside, awe dusted across her face.

"Can I learn magic?" she asked eagerly.

Tony snorted. "Oh, that’s a terrifying thought." He glanced at Pepper, then back at where Stephen had been sat. It had been nice seeing someone.

He hadn’t seen many people recently.

With a determined gaze he turned to Pepper, "Speaking of terrifying thoughts, I think it’s time we bring the others into the loop."

Pepper made the call without telling Tony.

She wasn’t looking for trouble, she just knew it would be easier to talk it out in person. And her husband, though a genius, was awful at putting off important events. So quick, brief, and a little bit vague. Maybe that was a mistake.

An hour later, a jet was landing on the drive and the doors burst open.

Pepper almost dropped her wine glass from where she was sat reading at the bar. Everybody froze as chaos charged into the room. Happy was the first in, wielding what looked like an old fire extinguisher as a makeshift weapon. Rhodey wasn’t far behind, his repulsor ready to take aim, fully charged.

“Put your hand in the fucking air or I swear to God I will-,” Happy trailed off, grip loosening on the metal cylinder as his eyes caught on Tony. Next to him, if anything, Rhodey’s stance got harder, shoulders raised like the hackles of a cat.

Pepper set her glass on the work top. Shit.

"Stand down," Pepper said quickly, stepping between them. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

"Pep, I don’t know who that is, but it isn’t Tony." Rhodey’s voice was sharp, filled with something raw.

“James.” Pepper warned, coming towards him with a stern hand. Her voice was serious and unwavering but nothing was cutting through to him. She could understand, in fact she did understand. But he was wrong and she didn’t know how to prove that to him.

She couldn’t lose Tony like this. James would never forgive himself.

"Uncle Rhodey!" Morgan’s voice rang out. She was hanging from Tony’s prosthetic, dangling off it like a monkey. "Daddy’s got a cool new arm!"

Rhodey faltered, his repulsor lowering slightly. His eyes darted between Morgan and Tony, something crumbling in his expression.

Happy was the first to move, dropping his makeshift weapon with a dull clatter. "Tony? Is it- It’s really you?"

Tony nodded, something tight lodged in his throat. "Yeah, Hap. It’s me."

Rhodey stared for another long moment. Then, suddenly, he was there, pulling Tony into a hug so fierce it nearly knocked him off balance. Tony felt Rhodey’s shoulders tremble, felt his own eyes sting.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rhodey muttered. "You don’t get to do that to us again."

Tony exhaled shakily, squeezing back. "Wouldn’t dream of it, honey bear."

From where she was squeezed between the two men, Morgan giggled, “Uncle Rhodey said a bad word.”

Tony sighed. At least she didn’t know the word fuck yet.

The next day, they sat in the garden, beers in hand. The tension had eased, laughter filling the air as Morgan sat cross-legged in Tony’s lap, flipping through pages of sketches. Her tiny hands moved excitedly as she explained every design she had drawn for his arm—some practical, others wildly imaginative.

"And this one? It has rockets, but not too many because Mummy said that’s dangerous. And here, I made a secret compartment for snacks!" she said proudly, tapping the page.

Happy snorted. "Kid, that’s genius."

Tony chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Clearly, someone inherited my brains."

Morgan grabbed his prosthetic and pulled it onto her lap, tracing her fingers over the metal. "See? If you press here, it could open up! And maybe a little light, so you can see in the dark!"

Rhodey smirked. "So you’re an engineer now?"

"I wanna be!" she said brightly. "Or maybe a wizard."

Tony laughed. "Why not both?"

Morgan hopped off his lap to grab a drink from the cooler, and Tony leaned back, exhaling. "Alright, now that my chief engineer’s on break, what’s been going on with you guys the last five years?"

Happy sighed. "Well, for starters… I lost Dum-E. My whole building went down in the attack. I tried to find him, but—"

A light shadow crossed the grass and everyone fell silent.

Bruce had arrived.

It was hard to see since the sun was so bright but Pepper was the first on her feet, greeting him with a hug, “It’s great to see you, Bruce.”

“You too, Pep. But I must ask -,” his words fell short as Tony stepped out from behind her, this half-guilty look on his face.

“Hey Brucie-bear. You miss me?”

The moment Bruce saw him, his face crumpled. He took a shaking breath and then pulled Tony into a tight hug. "Tony? You’re here. You’re really here."

Tony patted his back. "Yeah, big guy. I’m here."

Bruce pulled back, genuine disbelief on his face. “I’ve fucking seen it all.”

Pepper snorted, offering him a beer as she sat back down. Bruce took it, dropping his bag on the floor and wiping his face with his spare hand. He sniffed to clear his nose before turning to Morgan with a wobbly smile. "And how’s my favourite little artist?"

Morgan beamed, holding up her sketchpad. "I drew Daddy! And a wizard! And a Hulk!"

Tony watched as Bruce crouched to admire her work, genuine joy in his expression. This was more than he could have asked for. Sitting down between his two best friends, stroking his daughter’s hair.

His family, together. Happy.

And for the first time since waking up, Tony truly felt like he was home.

“Dad, what does fucking mean?”

Tony sighed. He really shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Chapter Text

The day they announced it was just like any old day.

The gala was everything Tony despised now that he was older—glitzy, extravagant, and filled with people who loved the sound of their own voices. It was a carefully orchestrated Stark Industries event, peppered with world leaders, high-ranking military officials, and a concerning amount of champagne flutes precariously balanced on trays carried by overworked waiters. Pepper had outdone herself.

And it was all a setup.

Unbeknownst to the majority of the attendees, this wasn’t just a gala for charity, business, or technological advancement. No, this was Pepper’s way of telling the world something monumental—that Tony Stark still lived.

The chatter died down the second he stepped onto the stage.

The murmurs started almost instantly. Confusion. Disbelief. A woman in the front row visibly gasped, while some of the reporters frantically whispered amongst themselves, already scrambling for their notes and cameras.

Tony smirked, stepping up to the mic. “Well, I’ll say this much—I’ve had worse receptions. I mean, one time, I walked into a room and someone actually threw a shoe at me. So, you know, this is progress.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, tentative and uneasy. Tony got it, honestly he found it hard to believe as a man of science himself. He hated not understanding it.

He took a deep breath. “Look, I know what you’re all thinking. ‘Is this some kind of hologram? A deepfake? Did Stark Industries finally crack immortality?’” He gestured vaguely. “The answer is no, but if anyone wants to fund that research, hit me up after the show.”

More laughter. It was working. He let the crowd settle before his expression grew a little more serious.

“I’m not gonna lie to you—I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have most of them. Five years ago, I died. Or, at least, I should have. And yet, here I am, proving once again that I am, if nothing else, really, really hard to kill.”

A hush fell over the room. He could see it now, the weight of his words sinking in. The weight of everything they’d lost.

“I know this doesn’t make sense,” he continued. “And trust me, no one is more confused than I am. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all of this? It’s that life is short, unpredictable, and occasionally, the universe decides to pull some really weird tricks. So, let’s drink, let’s dance, and let’s celebrate the fact that somehow, against all odds, I’m standing here.”

A beat of silence. Then, someone in the crowd called out his name.

“Tony?”

The voice was familiar. Strong. Disbelieving.

Sam Wilson—now apparently Captain America if the get-up was anything to go by—was standing near the front, staring up at him like he’d seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, he kind of had.

Tony grinned. “Wilson! Took you long enough.”

Sam stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief before hauling himself up onto the stage. He clasped Tony’s forearm, shaking firmly. “It’s damn good to see you again, Stark.”

Before Tony could respond, another figure stepped up behind Sam, waiting patiently. A raised eyebrow. A familiar metal arm crossed over his chest.

“You copying me, Stark?” Bucky Barnes drawled, nodding toward Tony’s prosthetic.

Tony barked out a laugh. “What makes you think you’re the original, Manchurian Candidate?”

The smirk Bucky gave him was small but genuine. Tony knew, in that moment, no matter how much he couldn’t stand the guy, they understood each other, at least when it came to missing time and trying to make up for mistakes. And while words weren’t Bucky’s strong suit, Tony didn’t need them. Instead, he reached out, placing a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder. A silent understanding. A silent acknowledgment.

He turned back to the crowd, clapping his hands together. “Alright, folks. No more questions. Enjoy the party, courtesy of my amazing wife, Miss Pepper Potts!”

Cheers erupted as cameras flashed, reporters still desperate for a scoop. Tony ignored them, throwing up a peace sign before leading Sam and Bucky offstage. On the way out, he snatched two champagne bottles from a passing waiter, handing one to Sam as they made their way to the back room.

Inside, his family was waiting.

Rhodey stood first, moving to greet the newcomers with a smirk. Bruce waved lazily from the couch, where Morgan was busy trying to braid his hair. Across the room, Strange sat hunched over a StarkPad, fortunately dressed in normal clothes instead of his usual over-the-top wizard robes.

Sam whistled. “Well, I’ll be damned. Were we the last to know?”

Tony shook his head, dropping onto a chair. “Nah, still haven’t tracked down Legolas.”

Before anyone could respond, a sudden rattle echoed through the room. Everyone tensed, listening intently as a voice—female, annoyed—began hissing complaints from the ventilation shaft above.

Weapons were drawn, and without hesitation, Bucky reached up, gripping the vent panel with his metal hand before yanking it free. A moment later, a small figure tumbled out, landing ungracefully on the floor.

“Please don’t shoot me!” the girl blurted out, throwing her hands up. Then, under her breath, she muttered, “I’m going to kill you, Clint.”

Tony exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, for ffffudges sake. You with Barton?”

The girl winced. “Yes?”

Everyone groaned, standing down. “Where is he?” Tony asked.

The girl sighed, clearly getting yelled at in her earpiece. With an exaggerated grimace, she yanked it out. “He’s two roofs over. He was too pussy to come see for himself, so he sent me. Hi, I’m Kate.”

Bruce gasped putting his hands over Morgan’s ears and glaring at the young adult whilst Tony reluctantly shook her hand, to which she practically squealed. “Okay, that was so cool. This is cool. The Avengers! Like, this is my childhood dream, man. Is Thor here?”

Tony rolled his eyes, groaning. “Why is everyone so obsessed with Thor?”

“Uhhh, because he’s a literal God?”

“That’s so last decade, didn’t you hear? It’s the Age of the Cyborg. Everybody’s going robot.”

By the time Clint finally got past security, Kate was stood on a table with a glass of red wine in hand, regaling everyone with embarrassing stories about him. The room erupted in laughter at his furious expression.

Pepper arrived then, sweeping past Clint to pull Morgan into a hug and take her to bed. Tony looked around at his friends, his family, his life that had somehow, impossibly, found its way back together.

He raised his glass. “To mysterious magic and those godforsaken stones.”

The toast was met with laughter, clinking glasses, and the sound of a night just beginning.

Chapter Text

Tony had seen a lot of strange things in his lifetime—alternate dimensions, time travel, gods with tempers worse than his own—but there was still something surreal about watching a massive alien ship breach Earth’s atmosphere in broad daylight. He stood on the skeletal framework of what would become the new new Avengers Compound (yes, it was just waiting to be destroyed like its predecessors), arms crossed as construction crews bustled around below. The ship moved fast, angling toward the site with reckless abandon.

“Tell me that’s not who I think it is,” Tony muttered under his breath.

Rhodey, who came to stand beside him, let out a dry laugh. “Oh, it’s definitely who you think it is.”

The ship hovered above the unfinished compound for a beat before its landing gear engaged. A blast of wind sent dust and loose debris flying. The boarding ramp lowered, and Tony braced himself.

Nebula was the first off the ship, stalking down the ramp like a woman on a mission. Her sharp blue gaze locked onto him with an intensity that sent alarms blaring in the back of his mind. He barely had time to open his mouth before she lunged.

Tony barely managed to sidestep before a blade slashed through the air where his throat had been.

“What the hell—Neb!” he yelped, stumbling backward. “You trying to kill me? Again? I thought we were past this!”

“You’re not real,” she snarled, advancing. “You died. I watched you die.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

She struck again. Tony barely dodged, his back hitting a stack of construction crates. Nebula was fast—faster than he remembered—but he knew her well enough to see the hesitation in her movements. She wasn’t convinced yet, but she wanted to be.

“Okay, listen,” he panted, hands up in surrender. “I get it. You think I’m some kind of elaborate fake, but let’s be real, Neb. Who the hell would go to this much trouble just to mess with you?”

She hesitated, blade still raised. He seized the moment.

“Morgan loves me three million now,” he said softly, meeting her eyes. “You wouldn’t take away someone worth such a big number, would you?”

Nebula’s breath hitched.

The blade slipped from her fingers, clattering across the metal and down to the ground. She stared at him, lips pressed tightly together, and for the first time, her expression wasn’t rage—it was grief.

“Tony?” Her voice was quiet, unsure.

“Yeah, kid,” he said, equally soft. “It’s me.”

Before he could react, she grabbed him—not in an attack, but in something dangerously close to an embrace. Her grip was almost painful, like she was trying to convince herself he was real. He let her hold on as long as she needed.

Behind them, Rocket let out an exaggerated groan, crossing his arms. "Oh, come on. You’re telling me we risked breaking every planetary regulation just to find out this jackass is still alive?"

Tony pulled back from Nebula, still feeling the sting of her grip. He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, trash panda."

Rocket bared his teeth. "Say that again, Stark, and I’ll—"

"What? Rip me a new one? Too late, already got torn to pieces by those stupid space gems." Tony wiggled his bionic fingers. "Speaking of which—word on the street is you got Bucky’s old arm. Gonna be weird not being the only guy with a cool metal appendage, huh?"

Rocket scowled. "That was a gift, Stark. This? This is just—unfair." He muttered something under his breath about selfish cyborgs.

Before Rocket could launch into a full tirade, another figure stepped off the ship—Peter Quill, hands shoved in his pockets. He glanced between Tony and Nebula, eyebrows raised. "So… you’re alive."

Tony gave him a two-finger salute. "So I am."

Peter tilted his head. "You’re still an asshole, right?"

“Probably.”

Peter nodded. "Okay, cool. Then this isn’t too weird."

Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, before the rest of you weirdos get any ideas—Drax, Mantis—please don’t wander off into the construction site. OSHA violations aren’t exactly something I wanna deal with today."

Drax, who had just begun stepping toward a large unfinished building frame, paused. "I merely wished to inspect the battlefield."

Mantis clasped her hands together. "I was hoping to touch something! New places have new feelings!"

"Yeah, and this place has steel beams that don’t care about feelings. Just—stay put."

Then there was Groot, who simply tilted his head and said, "I am Groot."

Tony smirked. "Yeah, I still can’t understand you."

Lastly, a shadow loomed from the ramp. Thor. There was a face that he had not seen in a good long while. He barely had time to prepare himself before Thor grabbed him in a bone-crushing embrace. His ribs made an alarming creak. “It is great to see you, Tony!” Thor boomed. “Would that my brother had returned as you have this time.”

Something in Tony’s chest ached at that. He clapped Thor on the back as best as he could while trying not to suffocate. "Yeah, big guy. It’s good to see you too."

When Thor finally set him down, Tony took a moment to breathe before gesturing to the construction site. "So, I take it you’re all sticking around for a bit?"

Rocket scoffed. "Not like we got anywhere better to be."

From where he was hugging Rhodey, Thor turned back to make his request, “And I would like to see Bruce while we’re here, if you would?”

This garnered noises of agreement from Mantis who had grown fond of her many human friends. Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, then, let me make it official. You guys are welcome at the compound anytime, once it’s finished. Just—maybe knock first."

Quill smirked. "No promises."

As the banter continued, Tony felt something shift deep inside him—something almost imperceptible. A strange, hollow ache settled in his chest, like he was missing something important, something he couldn’t quite remember.

Nebula turned to him with concern when he was silent for a beat too long, “What’s up with you, Stark?”

Toyn shook his head, “I’m not sure.”

When cool, blue hands grabbed his own warm flesh and guided him after his retreating friends, Tony let the concern slip away choosing instead to enjoy the present. Yet the sadness loomed even late into the day as they shared stories in front of a movie.

He would find out what was wrong. Eventually. At least for now he had his weird, dysfunctional found family to fall back on. Yeah, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Summer had rolled back around and Tony was enjoying an alcohol-free martini (he was a responsible father thank you very much) by the pool. The sun was high in the sky, painting the world in all its true vibrancy. Reflections of the water bounced up against the parasol he lay beneath, and Morgan’s laughter was a constant hum in the background. The first addition to his new compound had been a pool, which came in handy for hot days like this.

It was just Rhodey and him today. Pepper had gone upstate with Happy for some kind of business meeting, and Bruce was staying with Thor for the moment. He didn’t mind it, truthfully. It was nice having their little group all together, but there was still something nice about a quiet weekend.

Placing his empty glass onto the glass side table, he smiled fondly when U-2 snatched it up and disappeared back to the bar. U-2 was his newest creation, named lovingly after the original U and of course, the band. U-2 was fortunately less clumsy, and he trusted his own programming enough to let Morgan alone with them.

Morgan who was currently trying to shoot Rhodey inn the face using a water gun. Tony’s face twitched again, unable to prevent the smile that curled up his features, and got up stretching. With practtised ease, he grabbed his own water gun from the box. Game On.

Just as he took aim at his best friend, FRIDAY interrupted the battle before it had started, “Sirs? You have a visitor. He is waiting for you in the lobby.”

Tony glanced at Rhodey who shrugged, just as in the dark as he felt. Morgan grinned, gun in hand and swam furiously for the ladder. This was a recipe for disaster, what if it was a member of the senate. Oh God, he could just see the horror on the face of some politician as Morgan soaks them through with pool water, “No, Morgs. Don’t- Stop. Morgan Stark!”

Unfortunately, Morgan Stark took after her father and not her mother as she took no heed of his warnings, ploughing across the concrete floor.

“No running!” They both shouted, even ass Tony took after her in his crocs and swim shorts. This would be an eventful meeting.

By the time Tony made it to the front lobby, slightly out of breath and dressed wholly inappropriately to answer the door, Morgan had already struck. The visitor stood frozen in place, his hands raised in surrender as pool water dripped from his shirt. Morgan, grinning like the devil herself, had the water gun still trained on him.

“Good to see you too, Morgan,” the visitors said, shaking out his arms like a soaked dog.

Tony blinked, disbelief in his voice as he spoke, “Harley?” He let out a sharp laugh. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Harley grinned. “Figured I’d stop by, see if the news was true. Y’know, about you not being dead.”

Tony snorted and pulled him into a firm hug, patting his back. "Took you long enough, kid. What, you finally got a break from all that higher education?"

“Yeah, just finished my semester. Thought I’d take a road trip.” Harley pulled back, still shaking out his soaked shirt. “Didn’t think I’d get ambushed, though.”

Tony smirked, ruffling Morgan’s hair as she giggled. “Yeah, she’s a menace. Must run in the family.”

With a wave, he led Harley back toward the poolside. “Come on, let’s get you dried off. I need to hear what kind of trouble you’ve been up to. What’s the verdict? You winning a Nobel Prize yet, or are you still slumming it in academia?”

Harley chuckled. “MIT, actually. And no Nobel Prize. Yet.”

Tony let out a whistle. “Damn. And here I thought you’d be running your own Stark-level empire by now. What’s the holdup?”

“Trying to do it the legal way,” Harley quipped, making Tony laugh. “Also, my little sister would kill me if I disappeared into a lab for the rest of my life.”

“How is the little gremlin?” Tony asked as they reached the pool, flopping back onto his sunbed. Rhodey gave Harley a nod in greeting while Morgan climbed onto Tony’s chair, still brandishing her water gun.

“Not so little now. Been five years, you know. And she’s good. Think she’s trying to outsmart me.”

Tony smirked. “Smart girl. You’re in trouble.”

Harley sat down in the chair beside him, letting out a content sigh. “Yeah, I figured. But that’s alright.” He glanced around, taking in the new compound. “This place is looking nice, by the way.”

Tony exhaled, watching as some workers carried on in the distance. “Yeah, well, figured I’d build something a little more permanent this time. A home, not just a headquarters.”

Harley nodded thoughtfully. “You deserve that.”

Something in Tony’s chest warmed. He nudged Harley’s shoulder with his own. “You’re a good kid, Keener. Stick around a while, huh?”

Harley grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

U-2 whirred on his left, extending a tray with four glasses on it. Carefully extracting the goods from its claw, Tony patted the metal as though it were a dog and met Harley’s judging smirk with an eye roll, “Harley, meet U-2.”

The blonde laughed, “Didn’t bag you for that sappy shit, Stark.”

Passing him a glass of fruit juice, Tony allowed himself to banter like they used to. And as Rhodey strode over, Morgan in his arms and water dripping off his skin, everything was great.

Everything was great.

It was.

Was it?

The hour was growing later, and the air getting cooler. Tony stood by the barbecue, an apron tied on his waist, manning the grill, flipping steaks and skewered vegetables with practiced ease. The scent of sizzling meat filled the air as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the compound. Morgan and Harley were lounging on the outdoor sofa, watching a movie projected against the wall. She was curled up with a blanket, completely absorbed, while Harley looked relaxed, enjoying the quiet.

The sharp chime of a video call echoed from Tony’s StarkPad on the table. He tapped the screen, and Pepper’s face filled the display, her hotel suite in the background.

“Hey, honey,” she greeted with a warm smile. “How are my favourite people doing?”

Tony smirked, wiping his hands on a towel. “Oh, you know. Just keeping the kingdom from burning down. Wanna say hi to your heir?”

He called over to Morgan, who perked up, eyes lighting up at the sound of her mother’s voice. She scrambled off the couch and bounded over, Harley trailing behind with a lazy grin.

Tony passed the screen to U-2, who held it steadily while he went back to tending the food. “Hi, Mom,” Morgan called, a tired smile on her face.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having fun?”

Morgan nodded vigorously. “I swam all day! And played with Uncle Rhodey! And I shot Harley!”

Pepper chuckled. “Oh? Did you now?” She squinted at the screen, eyes focusing on the young man beside Morgan. “Wait a second… Harley?”

Harley rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Hey, Miss Potts. Uh, long time no see.”

“My goodness, haven’t you grown?” Pepper said with genuine delight. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Harley replied, shifting slightly under the attention.

Tony slid a plate of grilled veggies onto the table, interjecting smoothly. “Alright, let’s not inflate his ego too much, Pep. Kid’s already at MIT. Next thing you know, he’ll be building his own AI empire.”

Pepper laughed but glanced at the clock behind her. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I have to head to an evening gala, and looks like I called at a bad time. You three behave yourselves, alright?”

Tony placed a hand over his chest in mock offense as U-2 spun the camera around to him. “Who, me?”

Pepper just smiled knowingly. “Love you all.”

“Love you too, Mom!” Morgan beamed before the call ended.

With the call over, Tony turned back to the grill, expertly plating the finished steaks. He slid a plate toward Harley and Morgan, smirking. “Grub’s up, kinder.”