~Broken Family~

Just Another Story

Tony stared across the table at Nat, who held his gaze.

"Tony, are you sure?" she asked, wrinkling her eyebrows. "Don't you understand how much we need you?"

He ran a hand through his gray hair, fingering the wrinkles that marred his previously perfect skin. "I'm sure." He heaved a deep sigh and kicked his feet up onto the surface that sat between them. "I've served my time. I've worked my butt off to save the planet, and now it's saved. Huzzah. Is it such a crime that I want to spend time with my family?"

"It's such a crime that you want to hang up the suit," she said incredulously. "We've fought so hard for so long, and now you just want to give up?"

"I'm not giving up." He pulled his legs back and stood, leaning heavily against the desk. His eyes drifted out the window of his garage they were standing in, out to the driveway where Morgan and Steve colored with chalk. Harley was trying to pop a wheelie on the new bike Tony had gotten for him, but evidently his newfound height and muscles had not improved his balance at all.

Natasha invaded his vision again, blocking his view of Harley toppling over on top of Steve. "Then what are you doing, smart guy? Huh?"

Tony gave her a tight, sarcastic smile. "I'm retiring." He gave her shoulder a slap and pushed past her, out to deal with Morgan crying over her broken chalk stick, Harley over his scraped knee, and Steve over his existence. "Have fun with the whole leader title, sweetheart."

***

That evening, Tony and Pepper decided they should try to have their first family dinner since the whole mess of everything had plopped into their laps. It was stiff silence for awhile, the only sounds being forks clinking and Pepper's occasional insinuating cough.

"Can someone please pass the taters?" Harley finally asked, rocking back and forth in his seat. Morgan glared at him suspiciously.

"What are 'taters?'" she asked, pausing from where she had been using her fork to draw in Peter's ketchup. He'd sat there and let it happen, watching her with downcast eyes. Once again, Tony tried his hardest not to stare at his older son's scars. Or was he younger?

Ugh, everything was so confusing now.

"These!" In exasperation, Harley reached across the table, much to Pepper's chagrin, and grabbed himself a spoonful of chopped potatoes. Morgan crossed her arms and pouted.

"You're making things up. How come Mommy tells me not to make up words and you get to?"

"It's a real word!" Harley insisted. "You're just too dumb to catch on."

"Hey!" She took her fork off of Peter's plate and tried to stab him with it.

Remaining silent and impassive, Pepper and Tony continued to eat their dinner.

"Morgan, don't do that," Peter tried, standing up so fast his chair fell over. He snatched the fork from her tiny fist, a blush creeping up his patchy cheeks. "It's not nice to stab people."

"Yeah," Harley agreed, standing up from where he'd fallen to the ground because of his desperate escape attempt. "And I didn't do nothin' to you!"

"Anything," Pepper corrected automatically.

"You ain't my momma, stop trying to correct my words!"

Tony sighed and dropped his fork, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Everyone fell silent and three bottoms sat back into their chairs.

Peering between his fingers, he glanced at each of his children in turn. Took in Morgan's tantrum-promising frustration, Harley's simmering fury, Peter's quiet shame.

What happened to us?

"I don't like this," Morgan announced, folding her arms across her chest again and glaring down at her plate. The ketchup smeared on her face, fist, and fork looked like blood. It wasn't hard to imagine her becoming a murderer.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Pepper asked, tilting her head.

Morgan jumped out of her chair and fled to the steps, taking one at a time.

"I want everything to be regular again!" she shouted, voice getting fainter and fainter. The distant thump of her bedroom door slamming made everyone jump.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" Harley said after a moment of silence. "I'm not who I'm supposed to be."

Tony took a breath to respond, but Peter beat him to it. "Don't even say that," he said harshly. "You may not have all your memories of all the years we spent together, but you're still the same person. If anything, this is my fault. I was one of the ones who let Thanos Snap in the first place, and I selfishly attacked him one-on-one without even thinking of anybody."

Tony shook his head. "You don't get to say that. We all sat here for five years, blaming ourselves for your death and wishing there was something, anything that we could do to get you back home. Don't get all heroic on us now."

"You're back," Pepper said softly. "Everyone's here and alive, that's all that matters."

Peter sighed begrudgingly. "I guess we'll get used to this, after awhile. It's just the way things are now."

He took the serving spoon and offered it to Harley. "Want some more taters?"

***

"Daddy," Morgan whispered later that night, tracing circles on her quilt with her small index finger that was sloppily painted a dark shade of blue. "Daddy, are you different?"

"What do you mean, Maguna?" he asked, pausing at her lightswitch. She groaned in exasperation.

"You're an old man," she said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Your hair is a weird color and your face is all wrinkly and you smell different. How do I know you're really you and not an alien cyborg?"

Sighing, Tony sat on the edge of her bed. She pulled her legs away from the giant sinkhole he had created in her mattress. "First of all, I'm not a cyborg because I can do this." He stuck his fingers up his nose and puffed out his cheeks, making Morgan laugh. "And I promise I'm not an alien. You'll just have to trust me on that."

Morgan regarded him with a sad smile, then nodded. "Okay, Dad." She snuggled under her covers and blinked up at him. "I trust you. Know why?"

"Why's that?" He pressed a kiss to her soft forehead, closing his eyes and sending up a prayer that she could remain unscathed by the outside world of superheroing, even though her brothers hadn't been so lucky.

"Because I love you, that's why."

"Oh, yeah? How much you wanna wager?"

"Mm...three thousand. I love you three thousand."