Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel— shocker, right?

Author's Note: This chapter was definitely the most difficult to write. I played around with a few alternates, but this felt like the right way to go.

With the end of the year comes an onslaught of exams, so that was an added time commitment.

Sorry for the wait! I hope it's worth it.

Chapter Four: Goodbye

"What?"

Bruce stepped towards him. "We're doing what we can, but we have to draw the line somewhere."

Peter blinked, understanding finally setting in. "Uh, yeah. Right."

He followed Bruce through the door, his hands quivering. Gathered in a semi-circle around a small cot were Pepper, Dr. Strange, and Shuri. They stared at him, seeming not to register his identity at all.

Pepper nearly lunged toward Peter as he entered the room, taking his dirt-smeared hands in hers. "Hey, Peter."

He pulled one of his hands free and gave her an awkward wave. "Um. Hi."

The Avengers in the room spread out, making a narrow path for him to see through. Tony Stark lay propped on a pillow, his eyes closed.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter took a cautious step towards him. "It's Peter. I… I'm supposed to tell you that it's okay for you to go. But sir, I really don't think I can." His bottom lip trembled as he tried to stay calm.

Pepper gripped his shoulder. "Can you handle this, Peter?"

He nodded quickly, stepping away from her. "You can't just leave, Mr. Stark. Not with everything that's happened in the last five years. Not when you finally got something you wanted. You told me after the snap —five years ago, I guess— that it would all be okay. If you d-die, then I don't know if it ever can be." Peter wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve, eyes burning.

Dr. Strange flicked a switch on the wall. "He doesn't have much time left, kid. There's going to have to be a goodbye at some point. Make it a good one."

"I— yeah. Of course." He sat on the ground beside Tony's cot and leaned his head against it. "If I have to do this, Mr. Stark, then I will. You're welcome to give me a reason to stop anytime, though."

Pepper pushed a chair towards him. "Sit," she said, pressing down on his shoulders.

"Thanks." He scooted closer to Tony, the chair squeaking as it scraped the floor. His throat tightened as he opened his mouth. "Um. I— I don't think I can do this. I'm sorry, really, but I can't. I just can't."

"Peter," Pepper began. "It's alright. Everything will—"

"No! It's not alright, Mrs. Potts. It's not. You can't… can't let him disappear," he managed, his voice trembling. "I just got back. He— he can't leave now." Peter let out a shuddery gasp, tears rolling down his cheeks and dropping into his lap. He pulled his sleeve across his face, trying to compose himself. "If you're willing t-to let him go, I th-think I should leave. Y-yeah. I can't just… just watch him disappear, Mrs. Potts. I really, really can't." He shook himself, sending teardrops flying into the air around him.

Pepper fell silent, placing her hand cautiously on his shoulder. "We have to be ready to keep going. He'd never ask the world to stop for him, Peter, and you can't let it."

Peter stared at his hands. "He shouldn't have done this. I mean, I had the gauntlet. I guess I really could've—"

"You're a kid," she reminded him. "Tony knew what he was getting into the moment he decided to bring everyone back."

"Maybe he shouldn't have." Peter shook his head, sighing. "We've all been gone for so long, I guess. There doesn't really seem to be a point in trying to… trying to be here again."

Pepper pulled him into a hug. "There wasn't a day that went by where Tony wasn't thinking about you." She rubbed his back as he relaxed in her arms. "It's okay for you to be here, Peter. Tony would want that for you, even if he couldn't help you sort everything out."

He crumpled helplessly into her, forgoing all restraint. Tears stung his eyes, rolling relentlessly down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he heard himself say. "I'm s-so sorry, Mrs. Potts."

"What do you have to be sorry for, kid?" someone groaned.

Pepper whipped toward the voice, nearly pushing Peter off his chair. "Oh my god!"

"Wha—" Peter began, following her gaze. "Holy shit, sir!"

Tony Stark lay wide-eyed in the cot, his hands stiff at his sides.

Dr. Strange glanced down at his locket. "Must've missed that one."

"I'm definitely immortal," said Tony, promptly passing out.

Peter burst into tears, making no effort to hide his surprise. "You said he was dead!"

Shuri fiddled with a dial. "Could've just been a last burst of energy; his nerves shutting down." Upon looking at his face, she shook her head. "Um. I'm sure that he'll be fine."

Pepper gripped the armrests of the char, her knuckles turning white with effort. It seemed to take all of her strength not to shout.

Bruce handed a syringe to Shuri. "We should run a full diagnostic."

"Almost finished," she replied with a smirk. "Just need to draw blood."

Peter flinched when she pushed the needle into his arm. "Great. Uh, I'm gonna go." He took a second glance at the scene, regretting it immediately. "I don't like blood very much, that's all." The color drained from his face as he turned to leave.

"How old's the kid?" Bruce asked, nudging Pepper out of her trance.

"Oh— he's, uh, fifteen."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can still hear you."

Steve jumped out of his chair. "Is— is everything okay?" His voice sounded uncharacteristically shaky.

"Yeah," Peter managed, trying to smile. "Yeah, I think it is."

Bucky pulled Steve into a side-hug. "Told you."

Scott put his hand on Peter's shoulder. "That Advil kicked in yet?"

"I think I've gotta take a few more," he laughed, managing to sound only slightly hysterical.

"All yours," Scott said, pouring three into Peter's hand. "Enjoy."

Peter downed the Advil, finishing them off with a long drink of water. "Yeah, that's delicacy, right there."

His face felt hot and his hands fluttery, but still he refused the seat Steve pushed towards him. "I'm alright," Peter said. "Really, I can stand."

"It's four in the morning," Bucky shot back. "Sit down. It's not like you're going anywhere."

"Fair point." He eased into the seat, fatigue creeping in the back of his mind. As his eyelids closed, trickles of light drew past, painting neon streaks throughout his head.

With a glance at the kid sprawled in his chair, Scott tiptoed towards Steve.

"I'm gonna go, if that's all right."

He nodded. "Drive safe."

"Drive!" Scott snorted. "Thanks, Cap, but I doubt that Hank and Hope are going to want to drive now that they've got full access to all their toys."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell the kid that you had to leave."

"Thanks." Scott pressed a button on the belt of his suit, shrinking into obscurity.

Bucky nudged Steve's arm. "Kids wear you out, huh, bud?"

"Just that one."

Peter's chest rose and fell rapidly, his hands clutching the armrests even in sleep. "My fault," he mumbled feverishly.

Steve pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hey, Buck?"

"What is it, pal?"

"I'm older than you, now," he grinned. "That should make me your boss, right?"

Bucky rolled onto his side, eyes drifting closed. "Your star spangled ass? Yeah, right." After several minutes, his breathing slowed and his shoulders relaxed.

Steve sunk down in his seat, watching Bucky's chest rise and fall. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line, Bucky."

(A/N: I was really upset that Steve and Bucky just happily abandoned each other at the end of Endgame. I mean, the whole point of Steve's character development as he adjusted to the 21st century was that he was learning to move on from the past, right? It's hard to believe that he immediately went back when given the chance. Of course, Peggy is great, but that still doesn't explain why he'd leave his friends —his family, really— in the present. I can't promise what'll happen to him in this fic, but keep an eye out for more scenes with Steve. Next update is in the works!)