In The Big Rock Candy Mountains
When Morgan was little, back when the world made sense , and she wasn’t too old for hugs or kisses or playing pretend, she used to imagine what it would be like to have a brother. To have Peter.
Her dad would tell her stories—all kinds of stories: ones about Spider-Man, ones about churros, about science museums, and failed field trips, and flying through the air on webs, and making robots specifically designed to bug Uncle Happy as he walked to meetings with her dad. Morgan loved these stories. And she knew, just with all her heart—cross it and hope to die—that when Peter came back (because her mom told her, once, when she asked about him when she was four, that her dad and Peter were like twin planets, never able to get away from each other’s orbit, and that one day, her dad would figure out how to get him back), that she and him would be best friends. Best siblings.
And yeah, they were. He came back when she was five-and-a-half (back when she was just a baby and not old like she was now) and they did so many things together. They built treehouses and teased Gerald and played pranks on her dad. Peter gave her hugs and gifts and when Morgan would have nightmares, late at night, she would look for Peter, who was usually sitting by their dock outside, and they would sneak into the kitchen and make his world-famous cinnamon hot chocolate and make fun of Uncle Rhodey’s weird obsession with Antique Roadshow (“It’s a classic, Pete.").
Morgan understood what her mom meant about twin planets after meeting Peter because he and her dad moved around in the lab and the kitchen and the living room like the ballerinas she watched with Aunt Nat. And she wasn’t at all jealous, never, cross-her-heart-hope-to-die, because she was mature and her mom said that she was a good, sweet, kind daughter and her dad gave her hugs and kisses, and Petey told her, late at night, when he thought she was asleep (but she was really worried about her dad disappearing like her brother) that she was the reason he kept living and would protect her for the rest of her life.
Peter was weird sometimes but Amy Cicero told her that her older brother listened to yelling music and spent all day in his room pretending to kiss girls, so weird is relative (her dad taught her that word when she was six-and-a-half). Sometimes, Peter would come back to their cabin after being gone for the whole night and she didn’t think her dad knew about it, but she wasn’t going to tell because she was a good sister like that.
Sometimes he would cry in the treehouse and once she heard him and her dad yelling in the workshop. Petey didn’t come back for three days after that, and her mom told her that families are kind of like that sometimes but still love each other. And they obviously did, because when he came back, he gathered her in his arms, handed her three(!) chocolate bars, and told her that he wouldn’t do it again.
One time, Morgan and her mom got up super early for Peter’s birthday and decorated the whole house with pictures of Iron Man and Spider-Man and her dad got a bounce house and Petey rolled his eyes but hugged all of them and it was really, really good, until Uncle Clint and her dad found Peter and Cooper in the woods laughing loudly and Peter’s eyes were like a weird shade, kind of like a foggy window, and they smelled like a sweet skunk, and her dad’s head had this one vein that looked like it was going to explode and Uncle Clint told Cooper he was disappointing, and Cooper said that one really bad word that her mom said she was never allowed to repeat upon threat of losing all her science kits. That wasn’t a great end to the day, but then Aunt Nat took her and Nate to the movies and they didn’t get back until past her bedtime and that was pretty good, though she didn’t see Petey or her dad for about two days. Her mom said they were bonding, whatever that meant.
She figured her and her dad bonded so much when Peter was gone, that it was only fair they got their chance. She would never, no matter what, cross-her-heart-hope-to-die, be jealous of that because that was such a baby response. And at that time, Morgan was seven, almost eight, though Brady Groggins had told her that her birthday wasn’t until next year, but Brady Groggins was an “odious snot eater” (according to her dad) or a “bully” (according to her mom), so she didn’t put a lot of stock in what Brady Groggins said.
And yeah, when Peter went to Europe, he didn’t bring her back that doll she asked for, and yeah, that Thanksgiving was tense and Uncle Happy and Aunt May were on their phones looking for Petey because he was supposed to bring the pies and they ended up eating ice cream with freezer burn because apparently he was giving her dad a heart attack (but he said that all the time, so she was pretty sure he was kidding, but when Peter finally came back later that night, her dad hugged him harder than he had ever hugged her, so maybe something was wrong with his heart, and she wasn’t at all jealous, cross-her-heart-hope-to-die).
So, the point was, Morgan thought Petey was the best. The bestest of the best. Even when they had to leave school super quickly and Uncle Happy looked scared (which was, like, just so strange because he never looked scared). Even when Uncle Rhodey took them to this empty house in the middle of what MJ called “another town ruined by capitalism and the bourgeoisie” while looking pointedly at her dad for some reason. Even when her mom was on her phone, like all the time, and couldn’t read her a story before bed. Even when her Aunt May was yelling and Petey’s hands were shaking and Ned was wearing his “I’m disappointed but supportive” face. Even with all that, Peter was the best, because Peter would come to her room, late at night, when she was supposed to be sleeping (but she was secretly crying) and rub her back, and tell her that she was the reason he was alive, and he loved her very much.
And Peter was the best, even though Peter left early the next morning (which was totally against the rules) and she couldn’t find her dad and her mom and Aunt May were watching the TV until she came into the room and they turned it to Bluey (which was totally for babies, but also secretly the best show ever). And Peter was the best, even though that whole day, MJ and Ned and Uncle Happy and Aunt May and her mom were on their phones, leaving voicemails for him, and watching Twitter—even when Uncle Happy and Aunt May left to go find him and then two hours later, when her mom put her in her booster seat (which should only be for babies, but her dad wouldn’t hear it), and Ned and MJ sat next to her, and her mom was crying when Uncle Happy called her, and MJ held her hand tightly, and Ned called his grandma (which was weird, because Lola was nice, but like, he wasn’t supposed to tell her where he was and it didn’t seem like the right time to get instructions to plant trees, but hey, she wasn’t judging).
And obviously, it was because Peter was the best that she left the car (even though her mom and MJ and Ned told her not to upon threat of losing all her toys and being grounded past forever). And even though Friday refused to unlock the door so she had to use the override code she heard Peter using the night before (even though she was only the tiniest bit scared when she followed her mom until someone green picked her up and her mom screamed and came after her and they were both flying in the air and ended up on the very top of a very high platform and she turned to tell her mom something and they both slipped),Peter was the best.
He was the best even when he shot his web so hard it hurt her arm and even when she looked back and saw her mom falling further, and even when the web started to rip and her mom looked at her with so much love and with that “it will be okay” smile that she sometimes gave her after nightmares.
She let go, and Morgan slipped further, and Petey grabbed her in his arms and gently swung her down to the ground where her mom had fallen and her dad, who had just shown up, was looking at them all with horrified eyes. Peter was the best.
And even when her dad hugged her harder than he had ever hugged her before, Petey was the best, because he didn’t even look jealous, he just looked sad.
And Petey was the best because he didn’t blame her for her mom falling (even though it was totally her fault that her mom had blood all over her head and would never wake up again). Even though she killed her mom. Even though she killed her mom. Even though she killed her mom.
So Morgan knew (because she was eight-years-old—take that Brady Groggins—and almost a teenager) that Peter would still be the best, even after all this time. And when her dad finally remembered what happened and decided to hate her because she killed her mom, Petey would give her a hug and it would all be okay and her nightmares would go away and maybe he’d let her move in with him when her dad decided he didn’t want to see her anymore.
But.
Peter was not the best.
They all remembered and Morgan was happy and not at all scared about what her dad would say and Peter woke up but Peter was not the best. He didn’t look at her and he didn’t smile and MJ took her spot in the bed and Aunt Nat made her go to her room and her dad didn’t even give her a hug goodnight (though, she totally understood that, because he hated her).
Aunt Nat said that Petey was tired, and pointed out that she was tired (she totally was not) and that things would look better in the morning. Because everything looked better at Christmas.
But.
It did not.
Morgan got up as soon as she heard people walking around. And yeah, it was probably too early, but if she had to spend another minute in bed after staring at the ceiling for hours while stupid Friday kept telling her to close her eyes and go to sleep, she’d scream. She went into her dad’s room after making sure he wasn’t in there, and slid under the bed to grab the presents she hid. Her hand touched something that was folded up, so she pulled it out as well.
It. Was. Beautiful.
She remembered her mom working on this last year. After she finished Peter’s, she told Morgan that she would make one for her birthday in her favorite colors, with words that described her. Then she kissed her on the head and told her to go to bed.
It was so soft and Morgan lifted it to her face. It smelled like vanilla and tea, and Morgan wiped away the tears that weirdly started to form. She wrapped it around her and sat for a minute. It felt like her mom was giving her a hug. Someone knocked on the door and Morgan quickly took it off as MJ walked in.
“Hey, trouble. Whatcha doing?”
“Nothing!” MJ’s eyebrow rose and she looked vaguely amused as Morgan hurried to gather everything in her arms.
“I got presents, but you can’t look, because I got you something too!”
MJ covered her eyes exaggeratedly and pretended to walk into the door. Morgan giggled and went into the largest living room where the tree was and put all her gifts underneath it, hiding the quilt in a corner. The tree was covered in lights and tinsel and tons of Hawkeye ornaments, so she was pretty sure Uncle Clint decorated it last night. She saw so many presents (tons with her name on them, though she was pretty sure if her dad had remembered everything that happened earlier, she wouldn’t have gotten any), and could hear Uncle Happy and Uncle Bruce arguing in the kitchen. Her stomach growled, so she ran to see what was happening and maybe grab breakfast.
Uncle Happy was covered in powdered sugar while Uncle Bruce was holding back a laugh. He glared at him while he was furiously looking at a cookbook.
“Hiya, Uncle Happy!”
“Hold on, missy. I’m busy.” Uncle Happy didn’t look at her, instead examining the dough he had rather poorly tried to mold into a donut shape.
“Can I help? Puh–lease.” Morgan thought if she could prove she was helpful in the kitchen, her dad might keep her around to make food for him. Or maybe she could learn to make food for herself. Uncle Happy acted like he hadn’t heard her, and kept staring at the dough like it had personally offended his honor.
Morgan, being helpful and good and every bit the mature daughter her mom said she was so long ago, grabbed for the bag of powdered sugar right as her uncle turned around to get the eggs. It was a slow-motion type of moment, as Uncle Happy dropped the bowl and Morgan dropped the bag and they were both covered in sugar. Uncle Bruce (who looked like the Grinch in his Santa suit) and Uncle Clint (who had walked in a few minutes ago), burst out laughing. Morgan gave her uncle a guilty smile as he rubbed his temples with his hands.
“Why don’t you get your dad and Pete, Mo?”
(Because Morgan was a nuisance.)
But she was trying hard not to be. Morgan was brave, and she was absolutely not nervous at all about going into Peter’s room—cross-her-heart-hope-to-die. Peter may have ignored her when he woke up last night and maybe she didn’t get a hug but Peter was the best and would make everything better.
“Okay, you are Morgan Stark. You are Iron Man’s daughter—for now. You can do this.” She repeated the mantra under her breath for the whole walk down the hallway to get her brother and father. “Just go in there, Morgan, and do it.” As she was about to open the door, it flew open on its own and she found herself face-to-face with Petey.
Peter looked just as nervous as she felt inside, so she rushed by him and started talking. She was entering the Mo-nado stage (a frenzied way of speaking named by her dad—who probably hated her now), but couldn’t stop talking. She wasn’t sure what she said, other than asking them to open gifts, but Petey smiled and that was enough for her.
Maybe it would be okay. Maybe he was still the best and he’d let her live with him and it would all work out.
But.
Peter was not the best.
And as she watched her mom’s quilt—the hug that smelled like vanilla and tea, the present that was the last thing she had of her mom’s given instead to a brother that was supposed to be happy to be home with her—tear down the middle, she felt her heart tear with it.
As she heard her name yelled gruffly from her father’s mouth, as she watched the disappointed faces of those around her, she decided something.
She ran to her room. She heard Uncle Rhodey and Aunt Nat call her name, but she got there before them and closed the door.
“Friday, WEBS protocol, black-out.”
Because Peter was not the best, but he taught her some things.
As the door to her room was locked by Friday (reinforced, in case of intruders, her dad had been paranoid), she started gathering her things. She found a backpack in her closet and put two sweatshirts, a long sleeved shirt, cargo pants, and three pairs of socks and four pair of underwear in it. She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and some baby wipes from the bathroom. She took some paper and pencil, and she put her bracelet and necklace on the desk. She grabbed her water bottle and filled it up, along with $200 from her piggy bank. She was hurrying, because her dad could get through the WEBS protocol in about thirty minutes. She thanked Thor that Aunt Nat and Uncle Clint made her and Nate sit through that boring survival training.
She quickly wrote something down on the paper she had and threw it on her bed. She put on her warmest coat (because even in the California hills, it could get cold) and paused for a moment when she saw the old rabbit on her bed. On a last minute whim, she grabbed it and stuffed it in the bottom of her bag.
Taking one more look around the room, she opened the window facing the backyard, and climbed out. About thirty minutes later, a frantic family ran into her room, finding a note that said, “ sorry :( “ and a cool breeze gently moving her unicorn curtains back and forth.