Tony Stark was up bright and early, which was unusual, but today was a special day. He had promised his daughter, Morgan, a tea party, and when Tony Stark made a promise, he kept it. He didn't always know what to do with a tea set, but Morgan had made it clear that this was no ordinary tea party. So there he was, in the middle of the living room, arranging a tiny table with delicate cups and saucers painted in bright pinks and yellows.
"Okay, kid," he muttered, pouring invisible tea into an empty cup, "I think we're ready for business."
Morgan waltzed in, wearing her favorite purple dress and a tiara that sat slightly crooked on her head. "Daddy, you’re doing it wrong!" she giggled. She took the teapot from him and corrected his technique with the expertise only a five-year-old could muster. "See? Like this."
"Of course, of course," Tony said with a mock bow. "How silly of me."
Just as he was about to sit down and fully immerse himself in this very important event, the front door swung open. Thor, resplendent in his Asgardian armor, strolled in, holding a tiny cupcake in his enormous hand. "Ah, Stark! I heard there was a grand feast today!"
"Thor, buddy," Tony sighed. "It's a tea party, not a feast."
"Details," Thor said with a dismissive wave. He handed the cupcake to Morgan. "A gift from the kitchens of Asgard, for the lady of the house."
Not long after, Natasha and Clint showed up, each armed with bags of assorted cookies and chocolates, insisting that no tea party was complete without a mountain of sweets. Bruce appeared too, albeit looking a little sheepish, and offered a box of delicate macaroons, which made Morgan squeal with delight.
"Guys," Tony said, his voice edged with faux frustration, "this is supposed to be a small affair."
"It's never small when we're around," Natasha pointed out with a smirk.
Soon enough, the living room was bursting with Avengers, all balancing themselves around the tiny tea table as best as they could. Tony watched his daughter’s eyes light up as she served them “tea” with the utmost seriousness.
"Excuse me," said a voice from the doorway. Tony turned to see his son, Harry Potter, standing there. Harry gave him that familiar lopsided grin. “Hope I’m not too late?”
"Never," Tony replied, reaching out to ruffle his son’s perpetually messy hair. Beside Harry stood Peter Parker, a little nervous but clearly excited. Harry took Peter’s hand, guiding him to the party with ease.
"Daddy, look!" Morgan beamed up at Harry. "It’s magic Harry!"
Harry knelt beside her, his wand slipping from his sleeve into his hand. “It sure is. Would you like to see a trick?”
Morgan nodded eagerly. With a flick of his wand, a bouquet of flowers appeared out of thin air, each bloom brighter and more colorful than the last. He handed them to Morgan, who clapped her hands in delight.
"That’s amazing, Harry!" Peter exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. Tony watched them with a smile. They looked happy together, and that made him happy too.
The afternoon passed in a blur of laughter, clinking teacups, and the occasional burst of magic. At some point, Steve even convinced Tony to put on one of Morgan’s tiaras, and, for a moment, Iron Man was just another dad, drinking pretend tea at a princess’s tea party.
But that was a long time ago.
Tony blinked and found himself staring at a plain, white ceiling. The room smelled sterile, like bleach, and there was a soft beeping coming from a machine by his bed. He turned his head slowly, and there she was, his Morgan, but older now, with soft lines around her eyes and streaks of gray in her hair.
“Hey, Dad,” she said softly, taking his hand.
He blinked again, trying to clear the fog from his mind. “Tea party?” he mumbled, the words slurring together.
Morgan's smile was tinged with sadness. “Yeah, Dad. We had a great one, didn’t we?”
“Harry... did the magic tricks,” Tony murmured, struggling to remember. He felt the weight of his memories shifting, slippery, like sand between his fingers.
“Yeah, he did,” Morgan said, her voice warm. “You always loved watching him and Peter together.”
"Peter... Spider-Kid," Tony chuckled, though it came out as more of a rasp. He frowned, the confusion settling back in. "Where is... everyone?"
"They're not here today, Dad," she whispered. "But they were all there, that day."
Tony squeezed her hand, though he wasn't sure how much strength he had left. "It was a good day," he whispered, his eyes growing heavy. "A really good day."
Morgan nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “The best day, Dad. The very best.”
As Tony drifted off again, lost in his own memories, he held onto that moment, surrounded by his family, laughter filling the air, and Morgan's smile lighting up the world.
And for just a little while, everything was perfect again.