May 29, 1970
The sounds of the city are far behind them now, along with the bright red and gold flashes in the sky. The city celebrates its hero the only way it knew how- extravagantly. It’s the only side it saw of him, anyway. His family, however- people like Peter, and Morgan, for example- knew better. Yes, they knew what Tony liked. Peace and quiet, accompanied by the people he loves.
So, together, they leave the city.
They’d packed some food in a basket, along with a blanket. Stereotypical, yes, but hey- Tony was pretty cliché, not that Peter or Morgan would complain. They were having fun.
Together, they settled under the weeping willow they always sat under, unpacking the food from the basket and digging in.
It’s the perfect evening for a picnic. Peter laughs as Morgan gets food all over her face and he reaches over to wipe it with a napkin. She responds by grinning and picking up a piece of fruit, launching it at him. Peter ducks, and thus starts a food fight. They’re grinning and covered in various fruits, meats, and god-knows-what by the end of it, even managing to get Tony a little dirty. After cleaning up after themselves, the sun has set, and fireflies have emerged, twinkling happily through the air. Peter watches fondly as Morgan runs about, jumping and trying to cup the blinking bugs in her tiny hands. His smile turns sad when he catches sight of the now-familiar shape of Tony settled in the grass. Peter lets Morgan play for a few more minutes before he grabs the frame they’d brought with them and beckons her over. She takes his hand, and he leads her over to Tony. Looking down, Peter smiles and hands her the frame. Inside is a drawing- courtesy of Morgan- of Tony, captioned ‘Best Daddy Ever’ in her messy handwriting.
“Give him your present.”
Morgan takes the frame and crouches down, settling the drawing in the grass beside Tony, “I made this yesterday with Mommy. She said you’d really like it, Daddy.” Morgan pauses and frowns a little, “If you were here.” She stands straight again, and Peter pulls her closer against himself.
Together, they look down at the grave that stands before them.
They study the words engraved,
Anthony Edward Stark.
Husband, Father, Brother, Hero.
May 29, 1970- April 26, 2023.
Peter holds Morgan against him for a few minutes before he smiles down at her, “I’m sure, wherever he is- he can see it, and he loves it.” Morgan looks up and grins immediately, “You really think so?” Peter nods and she hugs his legs before he directs her to buckle herself in the car, assuring her that he’d be there in just a minute to check. When she dances off, he turns back to Tony. He has no words, nothing can express what he needs to say. So Peter merely steps forward to brush his fingertips along the top of the marble before he turns to walk back to the car.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Stark.”