Same old us
Something was poking him in the nose. That must be what had woken him up. He was pretty sure it was a finger but he didn’t know who it belonged to. He couldn’t quite open his eyes but he could feel a slight pressure on his stomach like someone was sitting on him but trying not to. Subconsciously he wanted to throw the person off but as he tensed up to do so the warning hum of his senses told him not to and he ended up flinching slightly instead with the perfectly timed small pinched from miniature sized fingers on his cheek.
“Sorry, Petey.” A small unfamiliar voice whispered loudly in the way children do when they think they are being quiet but are really just screaming without their complete voice. Whoever this was must have thought they hurt him even though he had hardly felt the pinch being more focused on resisting the urge to send whoever it was flying.
What the—
The voice obviously belonged to a child. And he didn’t know any children besides Ned’s little brother and cousins. But he was sure he wasn’t with Ned when he fell asleep…. What had happened?
His eyes were already shut but he squeezed them tighter in concentration trying to remember. Thanos. Orange planet. Pain. Passing out. More pain. Strange. Thanos. Battle. Tony. I am Ironman. Snap. Heartbeats.
He sat up abruptly and flung his eyes open. He squeezed them shut again just as quickly and groaned at the brightness. At the same time he felt the child slide from his stomach to his legs with a surprised squeak. Then they gasped and hurriedly got off his legs. He heard the little padding of tiny feet running away and he kind of felt bad for scaring away whoever the nameless and currently faceless child was. Peter tried to blink his eyes open but the light just kept assaulting him with its brightness until he heard the tiny click of a light switch and the humming of the lights overhead stop.
Finally he was able to open his eyes and look around. He found himself in an unfamiliar hospital room, he could see the lights streaming in from the windows of the room that lined the wall showing the outside landscape that was so blatantly obviously not New York City. He remembered that he was in Wakanda. He could also see a separate fluorescent light coming in from the window on the door and the other walls with a view of the extravagant futuristic hallways.
However most notably was the little girl who had made her way back over to him with little hesitation and was now peering up at him from the side of the hospital bed.
“Is that better, Peter?” The little girl asked in the same loud whisper. “Daddy told me that sometimes lights are too bright and noises are too loud for you. ‘pecially when you’re hurt.”
He had absolutely no idea who this girl’s father was and how he had known about Peter’s spider sensitivities. He was also surprised about how eloquently she spoke despite messing up the word “especially” because there was no way she was older than 4 or 5.
“Yeah- uh- who-“ he choked out and grimaced at the toughness of his voice.
The girl’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Are you ok?” She asked again, whispering. “Did the lights not help?”
She looked worried and puzzled. Like she was thinking really hard trying to remember what her father had told her about the lights and wondering if she had done the wrong thing.
“Water,” Peter managed to cough out.
“Oh!” The girl exclaimed loudly and Peter winced at the sound to which she immediately apologized for in another loud whisper. “Sorry.”
She whirled around and scanned the room before spotting some water bottles on the counter.
“Daddy always gives me water when I wake up when I’m sick ‘cause my throat is always scratchy,” the girl blabbered on as she went over to the counter. “Is your throat scratchy? It sounds scratchy.”
She was much too short to reach the water bottle on the counter and Peter felt bad watching the child stretch on her tiptoes trying to help him. So he swung his legs down and stood up, wobbling slightly on one leg. It was then that he noticed the cast around it. He limped over and grabbed a water bottle for himself. The girl gasped and started shoving his legs.
“You can't be out of bed!” The girl scolded. “You’re hurt!”
She grabbed his hand and the water bottle and helped him back to bed. He was completely bewildered by the fact that a literal toddler just scolded him.
“Thanks,” Peter said after finally drinking the water. “But I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Morgan,” the little girl said, “Mommy said you might not know me or that you might not remember that you were watching over me while you were gone. But that’s ok ‘cause you're back now and we can play!”
Peter immediately spat the water he just put in his mouth out and the girl, Morgan, giggled. But it was then that her words registered in his head. Dr. Strange and Mr. Stark and Miss Potts had said it had been five years. Which meant that He had been gone for five years. Morgan said her mom told her “he was watching over her.” Peter had heard that one before about his own parents and his uncle. And he realized that everyone must have thought hehad died. He tried to hold his impending panic at the realization that hehad apparently been dead for five years. He didn’t want to scare the little girl after all.
And it helped that he was distracted by the fact that he had even more questions than answers because her response did not help him figure out who exactly she was and why she was in his hospital room in Wakanda and this child was clearly not Wakandan.
“Petey?” Morgan asked.
He felt arms wrap around his neck and he realized that the girl had climbed back onto the bed. Next to him this time and careful to avoid all his injuries that he just realized he didn’t really feel anymore.
Oops. So much for not freaking himself (and therefore her) out.
He looked down at Morgan’s concerned eyes and found them to be strickenly familiar. He may not know the girl but he knew that look and those eyes.
Those eyes and that look were Tony Stark’s patent pending “stay with me kid” look only younger. And that particular look was usually reserved just for him. He had seen it many times before.
Most recently and most intensely on that strange planet when he was in so much pain and he was literally falling apart and he could see pieces of himself chipping away. He had fallen into Mr. Stark arms.
“I don’t want to go, sir, please.”
“Petey?” A voice called out. And the arms around his neck tightened.
I am Ironman!
“PETER!” The little voice cried again. And he felt a small body climb on top of him and clutch him tightly.
“Mr. Stark, can you hear me? It’s Peter!”
“I’m not daddy, it’s Morgan!” A voice in front of him sobbed. Instinctively and desperately he wrapped his arms around the person.
Heartbeat. He had been listening to Tony’s heartbeat.He needed to find it. His ears desperately searched for it.
But instead of the quiet and slow one he had been looking for. He heard a loud and fast one right next to his own. The heartbeat sounded scared. He latched onto its sound.
“Peter!” The voice cried again. But instead of crying loudly. It whispered softly, it was still crying though but it seemed to be trying really hard to be quiet.
He blinked. And looked down to see the top of Morgan’s head. She had buried herself in his shoulder and was clinging to him desperately. He noticed that she was shaking. Oh. he scared her. He quickly and gently pushed her away. When he went to let go he ended up bringing her back with him. He must have accidentally stuck himself to her and quickly released her and pulled away.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said awkwardly and hurriedly.
“Why?” Morgan asked. Instead of climbing off the bed she sat up next to him and leaned against the backrest, copying him, and grabbed his hand.
“I scared you,” he said in a soft voice. “And hurt you.”
“Nuh uh!” The girl shook her head. “I’m not hurt. You were scared and you’re hurt.”
“Morgan, you’re crying.” Peter pointed out to prove his point. He automatically pulled the sheet up to gently wipe her eyes.
“‘Cause you were scared. And you got all sad.” Morgan said.
“Yeah, and that scared you, huh?” Peter said.
“I guess.” Morgan shrugged but she didn’t seem all too concerned about herself.
“I didn’t hold you too tightly?” Peter asked nervously. “I’m a lot stronger than I look.”
“I know,” Morgan said brightly. “I’m not hurt.”
Peter let out a breath of relief and laid his head against the back bed rest.
“You had a panic attack.” The little girl pointed out nonchalantly. “Daddy gets them too.”
He still had no idea who this kid’s parents were, but he could take a guess. The familiar eyes, the way she seemed to know so much about him, and the fact he was pretty sure she had said “I’m not daddy! I’m Morgan” when he was in the middle of a full blown panic attack and must have called out for Mr. Stark.
“Morgan,” Peter said cautiously. “Is your dad Mr. Stark?”
The girl positively beamed at him. “Yeah!”
“Do you know…” he hesitated. He wasn’t sure if the girl knew what happened to her dad and he most certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her. “Is… um… where is he?”
Morgan deflated a little and Peter’s heart sank with dread.
“He got hurt,” Morgan said. She had curled herself against his side. “But Mommy said you saved him.”
Peter ducked his head and looked away from her awkwardly. He didn’t feel like he saved anyone.
“So he’s ok?” Peter asked.
“He’s hurt, like you. Still sleeping though.” Morgan said with a tilt in her head and confusion all over her face as if she felt like she had already answered that question. “The doctors let me and mommy see him this morning.”
“Right…,” Peter said slowly. An idea formed in his head, he needed to see Mr. Stark. “Hey Morgan?”
“What?” She said, peering at him innocently.
“Do you know where your dad is?” He asked
“Uh huh!” She nodded.
“Can you take me to him?” Peter asked.
“But you’re hurt! And when you’re hurt you're supposed to stay in bed!” She argued.
“Don’t worry. I heal fast.” Peter said with a wink.
“Daddy told me! It’s one of your Spidey powers!” She exclaimed in excitement
Peter grinned widely and blushed at the idea that Mr. Stark had told his kid about him.
“Yeah! Exactly!! See I’m all better now,” he promised.
She was easy to convince. and Peter knew he should probably be concerned about that. But for once he wasn’t lying. Aside from being slightly stiff he felt completely fine. In no time at all he had broken off the cast on his leg with his super strength and she led him through the hallways, down elevators and across a long corridor. Before Peter finally recognized the outside door of the lab Tony had been brought to. But instead of going into the lab, Morgan stopped in front of a door right next to it. Peter couldn't really see inside. There didn’t appear to be any windows. Just large glass walls. But Peter knew they were in the right place because he could hear the sound of a familiar heartbeat that was slow still but steady and partnered with the distinctive hum of an arc reactor. He tried to push open the door. But it was locked.
He looked defeatedly down at Morgan but she just grinned and tugged in his arm. He leaned down and she cupped her hands by his ear like she was ready to share a secret.
“I know the passcode,” she whispered.
“You do?” Peter said, turning to look back at her in surprise.
“I watched mommy and the doctors put it in,” she said. “And I remembered. It’s how I got into your room too.”
Peter knew he should be concerned (again) that Tony’s kid was sneaking around in a foreign country’s hospital full of complete strangers with superpowers everywhere and memorizing passcodes she had no business in memorizing. He also knew that he definitely shouldn’t be encouraging it. But he grinned back at her anyway and picked her up.
“Alright, little miss,” he said. “Do your thing.”
She giggled. Peter didn’t know even where she would even put a passcode in but with nothing else to do he figured he might as well trust Tony’s apparently incredibly smart 4 year old.
“Daddy calls me that!” Morgan squealed as she leaned forward.
Peter couldn’t help but grin at that.
Much to his surprise a holographic number keypad appeared at her touch, much like the ones at Stark industries. She put in a few numbers: 2836437. If he were honest, he didn’t think that would have actually worked. But he supposed the girl was Mr. Stark’s daughter after all. The door automatically opened for them and let them inside.
The room looked very much like the one Peter had just come from. Windows on one side overlooked Wakanda’s tall buildings and the windows the other had a view of a laboratory that was somehow more impressive then Mr. Stark’s that he itched to look around. But now wasn’t the time. In the center of the room with large machines on either side was a hospital bed.
It was difficult to tell who was the occupant of it even though Peter had no doubt who it was. Bandages were wrapped around the top of the person’s head and on the right side of his face. His right arm was also wrapped in bandages and seemed to have some weird holographic looking shield hovering around it, no doubt to protect it. Statistics appeared on it but Peter couldn’t understand them as they were written in a foreign language. Several different machines were attached to either Tony Stark’s lifeless looking form or the bed.
He slowly approached the bed. Morgan still in his arms. He swallowed nervously. If he had just been faster, listened to his senses more then maybe he’d be in the bed instead of Tony. It would have been better if he could heal faster. He would’ve been fine.
When he reached the right side of the bed, Morgan leaned forward and Peter had to take the arm not under her to catch her from falling. But he understood what she had been attempting to do so he lifted her up under her arms and reached over to her Father’s left uninjured side and set her down next to him. He was glad that Mr. Stark was all bandages up; he knew how scarring it could be to see a parent/parental figure’s raw injuries. The girl immediately curled up to her Father’s side and closed her eyes. She must have been tired, he briefly wondered where she was supposed to be because he doubted she was meant to be left alone in the room he was recovering in. He pulled up a chair next to Tony’s bed, on his injured side and stared intently at the statistics on his arm and on the nearby monitor as if daring his brain to translate them. He was convinced they weren’t good.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the bed level with the man’s chest so he could focus on the still too slow heartbeat. (At least it's steady now.) “Please be okay.”