The avengers easily found themselves falling into routine after meeting Peter Parker.
It was like clockwork--
Peter would wake up at six-thirty a.m and walk down the halls, knocking on everyone's doors and waking them.
Then he'd go to the kitchen and start making breakfast while everyone would slowly file in, either chatting or helping the teenager where they could.
Mornings were calm and peaceful. A lull in time where none of them were really awake, still shouldering off the drowsiness or having a cup of coffee.
When everyone was done eating breakfast they'd start doing their own work for the day--wether that be training, cleaning weapons, or anything in between.
And as always Peter would bound down to Tony's lab at the same time he always did, ten a.m sharp, and they'd work together until lunch at noon.
Lunch was usually whatever the avengers wanted. They'd just scrounge together food and then lounge around the common room. They would finish and Peter would help Steve with the dishes, as he always insisted despite the soldier saying he didn't need any help.
After lunch they'd have a group training session--which had been started by Peter, he said it'd be good team bonding. Sometimes they'd leave the tower and just visit places around New York, or maybe help a certain Friendly Neighborhood Spidey with patrol, much to the amusement of the city.
Dinner would roll around and they'd eat together and play games or watch movies afterwords.
Everyone would head to get ready for bed around twelve a.m.
Peter would be the last in his bedroom, he'd always loiter around others rooms and make sure they were good for the night, doing his nightly rounds, before heading to bed himself to get some much deserved sleep.
Morning would come and the cycle would repeat.
Of course the routine could be broken--for example, avenger meetings and missions coming up or Peter having school.
And even then there was a little routine for every situation.
Having a routine was never planned.
When Peter moved in after his aunt died he eventually started those small gestures--making sure people like Tony and Bruce were awake for breakfast which eventually devolved into waking everyone else as well. It built from there, every small gesture Peter made throughout the day became a schedule and the avengers followed it with no qualms.
If anything it was calming to know every day was organized. That was something the avengers never had much luck with.. and while they were still chaotic it felt nice for a change towards being healthier.
They relied on Peter's morning knocks to wake up. They felt calm in the presence of each other at breakfast now, always having a good start to the day.
Tony was always waiting in his lab for the clock to strike ten and for his son to come in and excitedly talk about what they'd do that day.
Lunch before training or going out helped them feel energized and they never felt down and out for the count anymore.
Dinner and the playful chaotic calm that came with it helped them relax after a long day or mission, ultimately helping them sleep better at night when they finally went to bed.
It was the small things..
And they'd been doing it so long now! Ever since shortly after Peter moved in..
Tony almost hates himself, that selfish part of himself, that believed it could continue forever.
Tears trailed down his face and he rose a hand to aggressively wipe them away.
Stupid. He's so stupid.
The adoption papers sat tauntingly in the manilla folder in front of him, Peter's name on the front with a spider and webbing drawn under it, courtesy of the others.
It was supposed to be a gift for the kids sixteenth birthday.
Tears dripped down onto the folder, smudging the carefully drawn lines. Tony wanted nothing more than to swipe the file off his desk and watch the papers fall out--to feel that sickening sweet satisfaction of destroying something.. or just so he wouldn't have to torture himself by looking at it any longer.
He glanced at his watch.
9:58 a.m.
The billionare watched the two minutes tick by.
10:00 a.m.
His watch flashed the new hour, as it always did, and despite this..
It was quiet.
No one ran into the room, unceremoniously throwing open the lab door. There wasn't any constant talking or new ideas to be made.
Quiet.
Tony dropped his head into his hands and sobbed.
-
Bruce blearily blinked open his eyes.
He tilted his head towards his clock.
2:37 p.m.
He'd stayed up late again and slept in.
Something he'd found himself doing more and more often nowadays.
He has only himself to blame, really. He should be able to get out of this bed and get going every morning. He should be able to find a cut off and go to bed at a reasonable time not feeling defeated every night.
An alarm, maybe?
But it would never be the same.
He turned over in bed, not wishing to see the haunting time the clock etched into his mind.
It wasn't six-thirty a.m.
-
He was a bit of a prodigy at cooking--mostly baking, but he deserves some brownie points in the cooking department.
He has kids and a wife, of course he knows how to cook!
So why is he sitting here now staring blankly at the stove like it'd personally offended him in some way?
A box of pancake mix sat not far way along with a few mismatched bowls. Some other random breakfast items laid around that the avengers had taken to eating every morning--if they even bothered.
Clint felt weird.
Sitting in this kitchen he wished he could've done more. Anything more.
Now it was odd and empty in here in the mornings.
The archer shivered, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. His stomach growled.
For some reason though he just couldn't bring himself to make the well loved pancakes--couldn't bring himself to do the familiar action of making breakfast like he'd helped Peter with so many times before.
He tore his gaze away and instead looked out the nearby window.
He needs time to think.
-
Thor was a busy man--
He didn't spend much time around the tower given he has to watch over Asgard. But when he did it was always a delight, and he always found himself eating lunch with his estranged teammates.
He'd scrap together random food items in the kitchen and mix them together to eat, much to the dismay of everyone else present.
He doesn't know why but it feels odd now, sitting in Asgard and looking down at his lunch.
Thor doesn't feel hungry--a rare occurance.
But not only that he feels sick just looking at his food. If he eats it he surely won't be able to keep it down.
"Thor?" His maid tried, raising an eyebrow at the god and gesturing towards the food. It'd been sitting in front of him for thirty minutes and he'd yet to touch it.
"Nay. Take it away please."
His maids face dropped but she curtsied nontheless and took the plates away and back towards the dining hall--no doubt to give it to the cooks and tell them she'd had no luck today either.
A pity, today they'd made his favorite meal. No doubt to try and sway the god into eating! But alas, it didn't work.
Thor just ignored the ever growing pit in his stomach and stood abruptly, startling his guards.
He has work to do..
-
Steve never really had a very concrete lifestyle.
He was always on the run or busy in some way--some would say (read: Tony Stark) that it's his flaw and one major downfall.
Being at the tower had helped with it.
He'd worked on making lists and making sure he was working accordingly, catching up with the times and finding leisure where he could.
The last two years had been the best years of his life no doubt.
Steve had found that simplicity he'd always wished to have.
Sitting in a cold and empty common room that was usually always lively, he had to wonder..
What did he do wrong?
And what more could he have done?
"You okay?"
Steve turned to look behind him to see Bucky standing with hesitation in front of the elevator. Unsure if he should come forward or not--something everyone in the tower seemed to be doing nowadays.
They were all walking on ice around each other. Not that Steve could blame them as he was doing the same.
"I'll get there. You?"
"No." Bucky admitted. "But I'll get there," the winter soldier smiled at Steve as he held up a wrapped sandwich. "Mind if I join you?"
"Of course not!" Steve pat the empty spot next to him. "I've been waiting for someone to ask."
Bucky smiled half heartedly at him as he took a seat.
They ate lunch in silence but Steve was thankful nontheless--his friends presence was just enough and perfectly what he needed.
"We'll all get there one day." Bucky said softly, eyes darting to the empty seats around the common room.
Steve chuckled wetly, using the back of his hand to wipe at the tear tracks on his face. "Yeah. Yeah, we will."
Hope and something sad shined in both their eyes in those few precious moments that they shared their lunch.
-
Natasha doesn't know when the team training sessions became something she looked forward to everyday.
It was dull and boring in here now--
Something she wasn't used to these past two years.
Only she resided in here, throwing knives at a target over, and over, and over, and over again..
She felt hopeless and out of sorts.
Training only helped her focus, but it didn't stop the feelings festering inside her.
THUMP.
The last knife hit the bullseye.
It dug deeper than any of the others had.
Tears welled in the back of her eyes after a few moments but she didn't let them fall.
Instead she focused on gathering her knives, beginning the same training exercise for the twentieth time that day.
-
Sam didn't expect patrolling New York with Spider-Man to be something he missed.
Sure, the kid talked his ear off a lot and played some pranks..
But Sam didn't mind.
It was those few moments the two shared laughing that the avenger held close to his chest, selfishly not wishing to share the memories with anyone else.
He didnt talk to the kid as much as the others but that doesn't mean he didn't care.
The Falcon looked over the streets of New York and the people dragging their feet as they walked.
No sirens were heard, nor the sound of fights or anything of the sort.
People whispered to each other rather than shouting or talking loudly.
And for the first time in a long while the city was quiet.
A few people acknowledged him as they walked by but seemed distracted and lost by something else--almost like they were in a trance.
Sam just sat on the edge of the roof overlooking the city and tried to ignore the emptiness surrounding him like a blanket, no matter which way he turned there was no one sitting next to him.
A pang of hurt buzzed deep in his chest.
He left only when a flag was being drawn up and a large parade of people began walking through the streets with 'farewell' and 'thank you' signs, Spider-Man merch plastered everywhere for people to see.
It was hard not to see all the murals he flew past on his way back to the tower.
A proper goodbye.
-
One thing Rhodey had hoped he'd never have to see again was the tower being deathly quiet.
It was odd and unusual--and reminded him too much of the times during the civil war.
Rhodey winced.
Why do bad things always have to happen when something is finally going good for everyone? Curse fate and it's stupid fucking games, he's sick of it. It's stupid and ugly and nothing he likes.
He walked into the common room expecting it to be empty but was pleasantly surprised to see Bucky and Steve asleep on the couch. Of course he did the only logical thing he could and grabbed a nearby blanket, draping it over the two. They deserved some rest.
"Friday? Take a picture and send it to the folder Pepper made, would you?"
"Right away." Friday didn't sound like she normally did, but who was Rhodey to blame her? Even his own voice betrayed him and his emotions shone through like a beam of light.
He watched the domestic scene a while longer before leaving, deciding not to intrude on the two friends sleep any longer.
He made his way down Tony's lab through the elevator.
The blinds were pulled down and he couldn't see in but he knocked on the door nontheless.
No answer.
He expected as much.
Rhodey, with a little struggle, took a seat criss cross on the floor next to the door, simply staring ahead at the wall. "I'll be here when you're ready Tones."
Again, no answer.
That's fine.
Rhodey will wait here as long as he has to.
-
Scott has only been with the avengers for a year.
Not for long, that's for sure. But he's been around long enough that everyone started to feel like a small family he'd luckily stumbled across through his journey as a hero.
Their routine became his. Even though he rarely spent time in the tower overnight, usually only visiting throughout the day.
And... it seemed so miniscule but he knew it meant everything to everyone else.
He'll admit it affected him some too, but he'd never admit that outright of course.
They'll make it through this, he knows that. He might not have joined the avengers during the original initiative but he'd heard stories and seen their work, he knows they can make it through this.
And so will he.
One day..
Scott pursed his lips and looked around the empty department, for some reason feeling the loneliest he ever had in the tower.
No laughter or chattering was there to fill in between the spaces.
He pulled on his helmet and decided to get some fresh air--maybe that'd help him.
-
Vision understood a lot of things.
He felt proud to be a robot that could so deeply understand humans and their emotions--to him it was a core part of himself.
That's how he knew what had happened and what the change around the tower meant.
And what that odd feeling he felt was.
"Do you think things will get better?" Wanda whispered, her voice cracking.
He ran a hand through her hair, leaning his head back against the headboard and looking up at the cieling. "Yes. I know so."
Wanda smiled despite herself, wiping away stray tears with the edge of the blanket. "I can only hope you're right.."
Vision closed his eyes. "I hope so too."
-
Spider-Man was dead--died on a mission with the avengers.
A freak accident.
Peter Parker was dead.
A chord was struck not only through all those who personally knew him but New York as well.
Never had the city been so quiet..
Sure, parades and memorials can be held. Songs can be made and stories can be written. Memories can be shared.
But it won't ever erase that empty feeling in everyone's hearts. Won't every erase the pain of losing not only a hero but a friend, a son, family--
Peter had so much to offer, and yet no time..
But at least he'll live on forever through the spirit and love of those he left behind.
'Spider-Man, a hero to all'
Tony Stark set down the newspaper he was holding, smiling bitterly to himself. He overlooked the city through the large windows of his lab and let his thoughts take him away.
"Tony?" A soft rap of knocking came on the door and Pepper poked her head into the lab. "The others are asking for you. Dinner is almost done! Clint said it's your turn to choose a movie."
"Ah," Tony startled, he hadn't even noticed the time. Was it already that late? Apparently so. He really needs to stop wasting away time in the lab.. he'd been getting better ever since the incident, but old habits still lingered.
"I'll be out soon, don't worry. You joining us?"
"I will." She winked at him before leaving, humming as she walked down the hall towards the elevator.
It didnt take long for Tony to get up and follow.
He thinks he feels in the mood for a star wars movie tonight.