Hello, everyone! Katierosefun aka Caroline here. We're about ten days away from Far From Home, and literally a few days ago, I sat up straight in bed and thought, 'what if Tony was alive and just couldn't tell Peter yet?' As of now, half of this 10-chap fic has already been written. This story will be crossing into the timeline of Far From Home, but expect that around the halfway mark, I'm going to jump to (what I'm going to hope) is the ending/climax of Far From Home with a twist of my own. Of course, I expect my own predictions/this fic is going to be totally off from what will actually happen in the movie, but since the movie isn't released yet, we're allowed to still have our own daydreams.

Enjoy!

ONE.

At this point, Tony Stark was pretty sick and tired of almost dying and then coming back to life. He'd very much rather skip to the point where he wasn't dead at all—to the point where he was awake and well, maybe sitting outside with Morgan on his lap and Pepper's hand in his. Maybe smiling over the lake and flipping the page of a picture book for his daughter. Maybe looking over his shoulder to find his friends yelling over a sports game or trying to find the bathroom.

If Tony could perfect time travel just a bit more, then he'd skip himself over to that point right now.

But instead, he was here.

For a second, Tony couldn't figure out where here was—just that here meant white walls and whiter sheets and a tannish ceiling. And that here meant the distant thrum of a machine somewhere to his right, and that here also meant that Tony felt like he had just been run over by a truck thrown by Hulk, Thor, and Steve all at once.

Only then did something shift into place in Tony's head.

Hulk, Thor, Steve—Strange, Quill, Peter. Rhodey. Pepper.

The room was suddenly too bright. Tony squeezed his eyes shut against the lights, and then the memories came rushing back: little fires everywhere, Thanos' leering face a few feet away from him, a snap of the fingers. Pain rushing up his side, his face, the distant screaming that might have been coming from him or from someone else. And then smoke clearing. Peter stumbling towards him with blood running down the side of his face, whispering, "Mr. Stark?" and "We won, Mr. Stark" and "I'm sorry". Pepper slowly sitting down in front of him and giving him a sad, watery smile. A promise that "we'll be okay" and an even quieter "you can rest now".

"You're awake."

Tony snapped open his eyes to see a door opening from the wall. He tried propping himself up on his elbows, but when he looked down, only one of his arms was still attached.

The other—

"We had to remove it," Fury said, strolling into the room. "Doctors decided it was beyond repair, but we've already got people working on a prosthetic." He sat down next to Tony. "I told them it wouldn't take too long for you to start complaining and making your own, but I'm sure you'll play nice to them for at least while you're recovering."

Tony stared. "What—" He pushed his hand against the mattress but only managed to get his body up an inch or so before crumpling back. He closed his eyes. Fine, that wasn't working. Then, trying to keep his voice from shaking, he gritted out, "Fury. Explain."

"Thought I just did."

Tony opened his eyes again to shoot the man what he hoped was his best glare.

Fury, unimpressed, folded his hands on his lap. "That little stunt you pulled with Thanos worked. His purple ass is gone, along with all his ugly pals." When Tony didn't say anything, Fury continued, "Everyone—including you—returned to Earth. And we managed to patch you up, clearly." He gestured to Tony.

Tony swallowed. "Where is everyone?"

Fury stood up and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Your wife and kid are waiting a few rooms away."

"I want to see them." The words tumbled out of Tony like the most natural thing in the world. He strained his neck at the door, as though just by looking, Pepper and Morgan would come bounding in any second. "And everyone else." Steve, Bruce, Thor, Strange, heck—even Quill—and Peter. Tell the kid to stop saying "I'm sorry", for starters. Tony lifted his head at Fury, who hadn't moved. "Now. I want to see them now."

"Not yet," Fury replied. His hands seemed to dig themselves deeper into Fury's pockets. "The thing is, Tony, the world thinks you're dead."

Tony felt the breath getting shoved out of his lungs. He stared up at Fury, and for a second, Tony thought he saw doubles. Then, "That's funny. But it's not."

"It's true," Fury replied. "And except for Pepper and Morgan, we're keeping it that way for now."

Tony's chest tightened. He saw Peter's face flash in front of him again. The kid whispering, "I'm sorry" before being slowly pulled away by Pepper.

"You're not allowed to do that," Tony said, swallowing around the rage rising in his throat. He pushed himself up again, this time willing himself to stay up for longer, dammit. "You have no right—"

"We can't let you out just yet," Fury replied steadily. "There's someone new in town, and we don't know how he'd act if he knew Earth's greatest defender was still alive. Whether it would be better or worse for the rest of the planet. And you're still weak." Fury looked down pointedly at Tony's shaking arm. "Not in any shape to go around defending anyone, let alone yourself if he comes barreling in."

Tony opened his mouth in reply, but then he let himself drop back to the bed. Breathing hard, he only managed, "Then what about everyone else?" He forced himself to look up at Fury, and for a second, he thought he saw something that looked like pity flicker across the man's face, but then it was gone—and Tony didn't want some half-assed pity, anyways. "Who've you got looking into this guy?"

"Spider-Man."

Tony's breathing deepened. He curled his fingers inward, nails digging into his palm. "No. Get someone else. Steve, Bruce, Thor, Marvel. Anyone else." He saw Peter's wide, dark eyes blinking back tears through the haze of the battle. "He's just a kid."

"Steve's not in any shape to fight. Bruce is off the grid, and Thor and Marvel's both off world."

"What—"

"Steve went back in time to return the stones," Fury replied, and again, Tony saw the briefest flicker of pity. "Only he didn't come back as fast as he was supposed to."

Tony swallowed. "What happened." It wasn't a question.

"He stayed. Fell in love. Grew old. Passed the torch to Sam Wilson."

Tony forced his eyes away from Fury. Forced himself to look at the ceiling, the wall, anything else. Together—that was something the idiot always said. Something that Tony counted on until the end. Together.

But then Tony saw Steve's slumped shoulders in battle, saw him standing in front of Thanos and his army in the dim light of the sun hiding around the clouds. Saw Steve walking into any room with arms crossed and stony expression and promises to keep fighting the never-ending fight.

Keeping his eyes trained on the wall, Tony murmured, "The fight ended for him."

"Something like that," Fury replied. "We lost our best soldier."

Tony looked back at Fury. "He was more than a soldier."

When Fury met his eyes, Tony continued, "And Peter's not your next soldier, either. Not while I'm still breathing." Heaving in another breath, Tony shoved himself upright. He leaned forward, pushing all his weight onto one hand. Yellow and grey spots instantly swarmed his vision, but Tony clenched his teeth together and repeated, "Peter's not your next soldier."

"Then who's going to protect the planet?" Fury asked, leaning in towards Tony. His voice was low. "Look at you, Stark. You can't get up from that bed. Spider-Man is our next best shot. You made him to be our next best shot." As Tony started to protest, Fury interrupted, "Don't even try to fight me on this one. You've molded him to be our next protector."

"Not when he's still in high school," Tony hissed. "Not when the kid's fifteen."

"He'll be sixteen in a few months."

"Doesn't matter." Tony's blood roared in his ears. "You stay away from him." He moved to jab his finger at Fury, but at just the slightest shift of his hand, Tony's arm started to wobble. He heard Fury sigh from above him. "Don't," Tony ground out.

"You need rest, Stark. The world doesn't need Iron Man back just yet." Fury's voice lowered to Tony's ear level. "But your family needs Tony Stark. Didn't you want that?"

"Don't you dare," Tony said, jerking his head at Fury. His arm was shaking harder now, and his chest felt too tight and cramped for his heart. "Don't you dare act like this is exactly how I wanted things to be." He ground his hand into a fist. He could see Peter right now, staring at Fury in shock and resignation as he was shuffled along to some new operation. He could see those dark eyes dulling, see those shoulders rounding over, hear him say "I'm sorry" over and over again. "At least let the kid know that I'm still alive."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

"Why not?" Tony shouted. His voice bounced around the room, and the yellow dots had almost completely taken over his vision, but he didn't care. "If you're going to yank him around like a puppet, he at least deserves to know!"

"And endanger himself to this new guy?" Amidst the dots, Tony could make out Fury's shaking head. "I've just seen the guy a few times, and I already know he's a terrible liar. One of his classmates has already figured out his secret identity within a heartbeat."

Tony's heart sank. "This is different," he replied.

"No. Kid's too immature to have the big secrets."

"But he's mature enough to go fight one of your fights."

"He's mature enough to fill in the shoes you've already put out for him." Fury straightened. "You'll get to talk to him eventually, Stark. Just not right now." He pressed down on Tony's shoulder briefly and lightly, but that was all it took for Tony's arm to give out. Tony grunted, the rest of his body weight transferring to his forearm. He hated it, but the yellow spots were already clearing away. "Take some time off. Fix yourself up. Get yourself back together."

Tony kept his eyes trained on the mattress. "Fuck you."

"I saw that coming." Fury didn't sound angry or annoyed—just tired. "But this is for your own good, Tony. You know that."

Tony didn't look up. He only asked, "So Pepper and Morgan. Anyone else allowed to know?"

Fury paused. And then, "Happy Hogan. We've decided to clear him, since he's so entwined with your family, anyways."

Tony felt something in his chest loosen. Good. If Happy was still included, then maybe not everything was lost. But all he could say was, "Peter spent almost every weekend at my place before the snap. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Fury didn't say anything. Tony just heard another deep sigh before the clack of shoes against the floor and the hiss of the door told him that Fury was gone. Only then did Tony finally roll over on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, his head and heart both racing, racing, racing. Fury using Peter. Fury plucking Peter right out of the classroom or out of patrol or out of his apartment and telling him to go face off someone by himself, as though the last few—how long has it even been?—days or weeks or months haven't been total chaos.

Not right now. Not alone.

The hiss of the door forced Tony to look back up to the front of the room. He wondered if Fury had decided to come back, but then all he saw was a blur of bright colors before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck.

"Daddy!" Morgan cried out, her head buried deep into Tony's chest—and something shifted into place. Not everything, but something. Warmth instantly gathered behind Tony's eyes, and he instinctively pushed his arm over Morgan's back, pressing both her and himself closer—close enough where he can feel Morgan trembling underneath his grip. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tears that had started to slide down his cheeks.

"Tony."

Tony opened his eyes and through the haze of tears, he made out Pepper looking down at him with a familiar, relieved smile. "Red eyes for your husband?" Tony asked, his voice breaking as Pepper brought a warm hand to his cheek.

"I hate not having you," Pepper whispered.

"Not going anywhere," Tony replied.

Pepper smiled and dipped her forehead down against Tony's. Tony closed his eyes again, and with Pepper and Morgan right here, the world seemed to spin just a little slower. A second chance—this was what this was. No, a third chance. Another chance to sit and rest.

Tony felt Morgan shift from his grip. When he opened his eyes, Morgan's tear-streaked face was looking right back up at him. She didn't say anything. Morgan just sat there, her chin wobbling and her dark eyes wildly searching Tony's face, as though trying to absorb as much of him in case he faded away.

"I'm here," Tony said, taking Morgan's hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Morgan looked down at their hands—her hand, which Tony had been so delighted to find looked exactly like his. "They're my thumbs!" he had told Pepper proudly. Morgan's hand now tightened onto Tony.

"Promise?" Morgan's voice was small—smaller than it should have been. Tony wondered again how long he had been out. And when did Fury let Pepper and Morgan know he was alive? Had it been a week ago? Yesterday? Today?

"I promise." Tony squeezed Morgan's hand.

Morgan gave Tony a watery smile, and she put her head back to Tony's chest.

"How long?" Tony murmured, brushing back Morgan's curls.

"A month."

Tony whipped his head over to Pepper. Her eyes were downcast. Only then did Tony register the dark bags underneath her eyes. The pale cheeks. The cracked and dried lips.

"When did you find out?" Tony could barely keep his voice from trembling. "Pep."

"A few hours ago."

Tony inhaled a sharp breath. "No." When Pepper didn't look up, he stared down at Morgan's head.

A month. A month of Pepper sleeping alone in the bedroom and thinking her husband was gone. A month of Morgan wandering around the house and calling for Tony to scare away the monsters under her bed. A month of everyone thinking that he was dead and gone and not coming back.

"I'm never going to forgive him for this," Tony whispered.

Without Tony even mentioning who 'he' was, Pepper replied, "Fury said he was trying to protect all of us. And you weren't in a stable enough condition to have people visit you." The heaviness dragging down Pepper's words signaled to Tony that this was only a halfhearted attempt to defend Fury.

Tony turned to Pepper. "A month," he only said.

"But you're back now," Pepper replied, her hand lowering to Tony's shoulder. "That's all that matters now."

"A month." Tony shook his head. "How—"

"The others have been trying to help." Pepper smiled sadly. "Peter still comes by on the weekends. He babysits Morgan sometimes, and his aunt keeps bringing over food."

Tony felt another rush of warmth behind his eyes. "Fury said Peter can't know."

Pepper's face fell. "No." She shook her head. "Tony, he—" She blinked a few times. "He misses you. We all did, but…" She shook her head again.

"I know."

"Are you going to listen to him?"

"Fury said it's to keep him safe from someone…new. A potential threat."

Pepper's hand moved down to Tony's arm. "What are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

Tony only looked back up at Pepper. "Get me Happy."

After the initial stammering and swearing around explanations from both ends, Tony and Happy somehow finally moved past the discussions of how Tony was still alive. ("Thank God," Happy sighed.)

Which brought Tony to further explanations about Fury's supposed plan for Peter ("The kid?" Happy asked, his voice taking on the same exasperation and disbelief Tony felt).

"Are you going to listen to him?" Happy asked, echoing Pepper when Tony added the detail about Fury's limits on contact.

"I'm going to bend the rules a bit," Tony replied, tapping his hand against the back of his phone. "But I'm going to need your help. Need you to keep tabs on Peter and point him in the right directions, whatever that might be. Can you do that?"

The reply was almost instantaneous.

"It would be my pleasure, sir."

Tony smiled, feeling, for the first time in forever, that it was one of actual relief. "Time to get to work."

A/N: The chapters of this story will alternate between Tony and Peter's perspectives, so we'll see what Peter has been up to in the next chapter.

As always, reviews/constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! (Low-key hoping that people are actually reading this because I'm not quite sure what I'd do if I wrote an entire 10-chap. fic just to find out that people are disinterested haha.)