Hey everyone,

Alrighty, we're finally here, the last chapter of this story. For whatever reason, as always, with my endings, I'm a little nervous about publishing it, but I genuinely do hope you enjoy it. I want to say a final thank you to those of you who favorited and followed, again, it is really awesome to see those notifications come up. And I especially want to say thank you to my amazing reviewers. You guys are fantastic! So thank you to:

- the astoundingly stunning xsheepix, I'm so glad the build-up worked! And I'm glad you loved the progress, I kind of wanted it to go from slow to a quick jump as Peter figured more things out :) Hopefully, this wrap-up chapter works too!

- the tremendously stellar meamaya101, I'm so sorry! I just felt like this is the point to wrap it up, but I'm thrilled you've enjoyed the story so much :) I hope this chapter works for you too!

- the fantastically brilliant judithalex4099, Oh that was such a sweet thing to say! Thank you so much! I was so nervous about that payoff and to read that made my night. I hope you enjoy this last chapter as well!

Thank you again for the support and the comments throughout the entirety of this story. You guys are all amazing! So, without further ado...

Enjoy!

Pepper, Morgan, Michelle, and May arrived not too long after Peter and Tony. The elevator dinged before the doors slid open and revealed the four, who radiated the same trepidation that had colored the initial interactions between the Avengers. Pepper, and to a slighter extent, Michelle, were able to hide their nerves, their shoulders were back, and their heads held high. May's nervousness was a bit more evident on her expressive face. But Morgan stole everyone's attention because he was a bundle of bouncing nerves. He fidgeted where he stood between Pepper and Michelle. It was apparent that it was taking all his self-control to stay where he was, at least until his tip-toed gaze landed on Peter and Tony.

Morgan's eyes locked on and refused to leave. After only a few moments, it was evident he was watching them for the discomfort he had come to associate with their relationship. Both Tony and Peter visibly squirmed under his gaze, but when he apparently didn't see what he was expecting, a broad smile broke across his face, and he slipped away from Pepper and Michelle. He darted over to the couch and plopped into the too-small space between Peter and Tony before shooting Peter a look full of exaggerated suspicion. After a moment, he asked, "You forgave him?"

Peter couldn't help the incredible guilt that struck him. He had known Morgan was aware of the strain on their relationship, he had brought it up a few times, but the apparently profound depth of that knowledge was something Peter hadn't realized. He couldn't take his gaze off Morgan as he choked back his culpability and nodded. His voice cracked when he said, "Yeah, I did." He flicked his eyes up to Tony in conformation before he looked back at Morgan and said sincerely, "I figured it was about time."

The others quietly slipped into some of the open chairs but didn't disrupt the necessary scene happening on the other side of the living room.

Morgan nodded warily, suddenly serious as he regarded Peter. Then without another word, his attention diverted to Tony, and instead of suspicion, he affected a disapproving air. It echoed in his voice when he asked, "Did you tell him you were sorry?"

Tony chuckled nervously at the precociousness of his son before he muttered, "I did." It was only a small lie, and the outcome was the same, but Tony was secretly thankful Morgan didn't know as much as he thought he did.

Morgan appraised him for a moment more before he said approvingly, "Good. I hated that you were fighting." Then he leaned over and wrapped his arms tightly around Peter's neck. Squeezing hard, he showed his gratitude the best way he knew how. Once he pulled away, he leaned over and did the same to Tony.

And that was it.

That was the end of the conversation.

Morgan bluntly laid out the exact problem and the solution in those simple interactions. And it helped. Peter looked up at Tony with wide eyes that clearly laid out his sorrow and guilt but also the hope that they had finally found a positive tipping point. This was a chance to remember their world before the rift that had threatened to tear them apart. And that was what they needed to hold on to. Tony reached across the back of the couch and clasped Peter's shoulder, sharing the same unspoken revelations and hope. Then Morgan provided a distraction as his gaze snapped to Peter. Ignoring the turmoil on his face, Morgan started excitedly talking, "Do you remember that robot you helped me with?"

The question almost caused Peter whiplash, but it was a welcome digression that he quickly accepted. Peter hesitated for a moment as he processed Morgan's excitement before he gave a slightly delayed snort of a laugh that he tried to cover with a poorly concealed cough when Tony's eyes went wide. Peter forced some of the humor out of his reaction, but still encouraged Morgan's enthusiasm, "Yeah, of course, it'll be awesome once we get it finished." Peter did not miss the way Tony's hand tightened nervously on his shoulder.

But Morgan was too invested in his story to notice, "I added more to it, it has this big flat platform powered by hydraulics...all I have to do is get it under another robot, and that'll flip it over. Because if you flip the other one over, you can win."

Peter did his best to look confused when he egged the conversation on, "Win? I thought we were just building a robot?"

Morgan started to practically bounce in his seat when Peter asked that. He glanced at Tony, who looked mortified this was coming out now - in front of the others - but mostly in front of Pepper. He knew she didn't mind him encouraging the construction, but if Morgan revealed the prize, he was going to hear about it. Tossing his hand through his hair in the way he always did when he got nervous, Tony flicked his gaze over to Pepper's confusion and mentally took a deep breath, that he could work with. But then Morgan answered Peter's pointed question, "It's to beat dad's."

And Pepper's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned her head to the side.

It was all swept away when Morgan's eyes got really wide, and he excitedly asked, "Did you ever see Robot Wars?"

Peter nodded, his smile widening as he explained, "I have. Dad and I used to watch it a lot." He tipped his chin absentmindedly up to Tony when he said that, but then he added, "We haven't ever built robots to try it though..."

Morgan's eyes widened comically farther, but there was almost a sadness in his voice when he said, "I caught him watching it at the cabin, and when I asked him about it, he told me we could have a robot battle." It was obvious he understood why Tony had been watching the show in the first place, but the sadness fizzled as quickly as it appeared when his face lit up with a new angle, "Do you want to build one too? We could battle all of them!

Peter smiled wide at that. It had been a while since he had felt home...home but this, this was normal, and it felt better than he thought it would. Encouraging Morgan's plan, he agreed, "Of course, I'd love that."

And he was off. Morgan started talking about the logistics of having three bots and what they would have to do with the ring, asking the others if they would want to watch too. Naturally, they all agreed. The Avengers had a hard time saying no to Peter. For Morgan, it was almost universally impossible. But suddenly, Morgan's enthusiasm dimmed, and he looked up at Tony with round, worried eyes, "I only have to beat you to get the suit, right?"

Tony felt Pepper's eyes zero in on him, and he had to actively work to ignore her gaze.

Peter saw the woman's reaction but knew her well enough to know Tony would hear about this when there weren't a bunch of people in the room. Even with that, it seemed like the rest of the Avengers had an idea of what she was thinking because Clint had a broad smile on this face, and the others were trying to conceal varying degrees of smirks. Peter couldn't help but innocently ask, "What suit?" He quickly buried the grin that formed when Tony directed his annoyance in his direction.

However, Tony hurried to take advantage of this new development, "You know if you invite him to the competition, I think the prizes have to apply to him as well."

Morgan harrumphed at the news, forgetting Peter's question, but the brooding was brief before he assured with true Stark confidence, "That's okay, I'll just have to beat him too."

Tony and Peter both pulled their heads back in surprise, and Tony, momentarily forgetting Pepper's palpable exasperation, said with amusement, "Oh, you will, will you?"

"Yup," Morgan said proudly, popping the "p" like Tony did from time to time.

Peter laughed at the interaction, and confidently said with a shrug, "He probably will." For a brief moment, he considered how nice it felt to just laugh at a situation without worrying about the implications or any potential dangers that could be around the corner. But he acknowledged that thought and let it pass. He wanted just to be...here.

As the robot conversation petered out, other smaller conversations started up again as the group waited on dinner. They didn't have to wait long before the elevator doors slid open and revealed Rhodey, Wanda, and the rest of the Guardians weighed down with pizza boxes. It only took them a brief minute to adjust to the altogether more jovial atmosphere in the room. As soon as the boxes were set down, they were raided, and the room devolved into varied conversations and stories as they readjusted to their world. And for the first time in weeks, they just had dinner together.

No one was in a hospital bed.

No one harbored buried fear of the others.

No one questioned their allegiance to one another.

They stayed that way for the better part of the night. When they finally sleepwalked back to their rooms, it was apparent that the world had shifted a little closer to right.

As the weeks went by, Peter got better. He still had terrible nightmares that still woke Michelle up, but it was easier to move past them with her help. And instead of staying awake for the rest of the night, he managed to fall back to sleep most of the time. And those times when he couldn't, Tony somehow always found him.

He still had flashbacks. Awful flashbacks. But he finally had the support he needed, or more precisely, he allowed himself to accept the support he had, finally moving far enough past the fear to accept what he needed.

And slowly...slowly, Peter found himself again.

While Peter healed, so did Tony. It helped him immensely to be able to help Peter in a way that he remembered. And while Tony recognized the selfishness of that realization, it still went a long way in quieting Tony's own insecurities. Although he did order FRIDAY to warn him if Peter was out of bed wandering around so that he could be there to help.

Always there to help.

They rebuilt their relationship and worked past the fear and the blame. It took patience, but for the first time since Peter had come home, he and Tony were on the same page. That was incredibly helpful. It continued to reinforce the narrative Peter was building in his mind, that there was a difference between Mysterio's Iron Man and Tony's. A distinction Peter quickly learned helped him escape some of the darker nightmares and flashbacks. As that narrative was reinforced, he built on it with gusto.

Eventually, life returned to something resembling normal. Which meant Peter slowly got back to work. He was still working out of the Compound because he could, and it was reassuring to be in a place that was so distinctly home. But with how long he had been out of work, it also meant he was rusty, and one day, he got stuck on something he was configuring, so he ventured out to find Tony. However, the longer he looked for him, the more obvious it was that he didn't know where he was and for a moment, that caused an illogical, horrible fear to grip his mind. Driven by a blend of fear and curiosity, Peter searched the regular places - the lab, the Stark floor, the Avengers' level, the main conference rooms - everywhere he would typically find his dad. But when Tony didn't suddenly appear, Peter's curiosity warped into fear-fueled frustration, and he called up to the ceiling, "FRIDAY, where is everyone?"

"They are currently in the conference room in hanger B."

That location dredged up some old memories Peter wasn't quite ready for, things he hadn't thought about for a while. But he did let out a breath once he knew Tony's location. His fear satiated, concern blended with his curiosity when he asked, "Why are they in the hanger?"

"They are leaving to deal with stolen Hammer-tech that was found in a remote warehouse in Utah."

Peter was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of sorrow and sadness. He quietly voiced it, "Why didn't anyone say anything to me?" The question surprised him, and while it wasn't something he had meant to say out loud, FRIDAY heard it and answered with a gentle candidness, "I would imagine that boss doesn't want you to have to deal with a mission yet. He's worried how something like that would affect you."

For a moment, Peter felt a flash of anger, but he squashed it quickly. He reminded himself that his dad and the others were worried about his state of mind; that the reason they hadn't told him wasn't that they wanted to leave him behind but because they cared about him. They were trying to protect him. While that realization calmed his anger, there was a quieter vein of determination that strengthened in the background. It had been a while since he had thought about missions. About going out and doing what he needed to, to protect someone else. It reframed something he hadn't been able to contemplate in a while.

He was Spider-Man.

He was still Spider-Man.

Realization is a hard thing, and with the acknowledgment of that simple fact, Peter admitted he had been out of that world for nearly six months. That was a long time to be out of his neighborhood and away from the Avengers. But until this point, it had been frightening even to consider going back. He knew he could have asked the others for help, but there was a level of terror that came with putting them in the line of fire for his well-being. He was terrified he wouldn't be able to watch their backs. That he would get them killed. It was probably irrational, but after what happened, he figured he deserved a chance to be a little irrational.

Still, he was Spider-Man.

As that thought swirled through his mind, he let that determination build. And before he knew it, he at the door to the meeting room just outside the hanger. Without waiting, he opened the door with a confidence he didn't feel, and when that failed, he stumbled only slightly but managed to square his shoulders and meet everyone's surprised gaze. Tony recovered first and, with a hint of nervousness, asked, "Whatcha doin' Pete?" His brow furrowed in confusion, but there was a sneaking knowledge in his posture proved he already knew the answer.

Being spoken to helped break Peter's self-consciousness, and he squared his shoulders, "I'm helping. With whatever this is, I want to help."

Tony's suddenly anxious gaze shot across the table to anyone who would back him up. The other's met his gaze, but he didn't see any guaranteed support. Lacking backup, Tony heavily sighed and gestured at one of the open chairs. Distraction settled, Sam continued laying out the information they needed to deal with the threat. Once he finished, the group stood with minimal conversation and headed to the ready room.

Tony touched Peter's arm as he stepped passed. When Peter turned, Tony's voice was quiet but concerned when he said, "Can I talk to you, Pete?" Peter nodded, and Tony waited for the others to file out the room completely. It was possible to hear their tension easying as the minimal conversation fell away and louder, teasing voices started in the hallway. Unfortunately, that didn't extend to the two left in the room. Once they knew they were on their own, Tony met Peter's gaze and quietly asked, "Are you sure you want to go?"

Peter looked toward where the others had disappeared before he looked back at his dad. He bit his lip and forced a pseudo-confident response, "Yes." Then he elaborated, "I need to go. I have to help with something."

"Pete…" Tony started warily. He wanted Peter to be anywhere else, even if he wasn't able to voice the reason why adequately.

Peter heard the concern in Tony's voice, and he realized that if his dad asked him to stay back, he would have a hard time denying it. So instead, he pled for understanding, "Please, don't fight me on this, dad. I need to do this. I can't keep hiding."

Tony bit his tongue and forced his remark back down. He knew Peter was well beyond the age when he could ask him to do something, and, by virtue of their relationship, it would work. And he had no right to deny him the choice, so instead, he asked once more, with more conviction, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Peter appreciated the choice, and he replied without hesitation, "Yes." Even if he felt the nerves creeping up the moment, the single syllable left his mouth.

It turned out to be a slog of a fight.

The defenders were dug in and prepared for an attack. From the beginning, the Avengers were forced to fight. The plan had been to split into teams once they made it into the overly large, multi-roomed storehouse, but the initial fight on the ground saw all the Avengers grouped. And whether consciously or unconsciously, each one of them defaulted to looking for Peter whenever they had a brief moment. But Tony spent the entire time making sure he knew exactly where Peter was in the fight. Not that he would have told anyone what he was doing because he did trust Peter's abilities, but he couldn't get past his own fear. So, FRIDAY kept a split-screen on his heads-up display. Unfortunately, that quickly became exhausting.

Finally, they were able to split up into smaller groups, each with separate goals to find information on the militia group, locate the weapons, and take care of the members. But almost immediately, each group became bogged down to some degree, and while it was ultimately an annoyance, it did nothing for their exhaustion.

Peter and Tony battered their way into a larger storage room, fighting with a small group of men who seemed intent on keeping them out. It didn't take them long to clear the mostly empty room, but when they were finishing up the first group, another scrambled in from another door. Two men were holding a massive rocket launcher looking device held between them.

Tony saw it first. Terror forced him forward. He didn't want whatever that was anywhere near Peter. As FRIDAY was targeting them, the device gave a whooping bark, and the projectile caught Tony square in the chest. The ordinance threw him back before exploding, almost as an afterthought. Tony's head slammed into the wall behind him as flames licked up around his armor. There was a horrible crack as the concrete broke, and he slipped bonelessly to the ground, revealing a sizeable hole where his helmet and upper body had impacted the wall.

The resounding bark of the launcher ground everything to a halt as the two men holding the weapon tried to regain their footing from the apparent kick of the gun. But Peter's attention was fixed on the limp suit on the floor. Immediately, he felt his throat start to close, and he tried to scream, but all he could force out was a whispered, "Dad?" When Tony didn't answer, fear clenched his heart, and he swung hard at the man he had been webbing up. If he had the presence of mind to recognize what he had done, he would have heard the sharp crack of bone that signaled at best a broken jaw.

At worst, that man was dead.

Peter only saw the obstacle disappear before he surged forward and quickly dealt with the new arrivals before they could reset their weapon. He tossed them out of the room and webbed them to the floor before stomping hard on the barrel of the launcher, ensuring it wouldn't fire anything again. Taking a quick look around, he backed up and barred the door shut behind him. Threat eliminated, his attention was entirely on Tony. Darting over, he dropped heavily in front of his dad. Peter's world shifted sideways as he looked at the damage. The nanobots worked to replace damaged portions of the armor, but the blackened scorch marks still clung to the parts that weren't damaged, just singed. Peter froze in front of him as his fears became manifest. That cracked wall was a crushed skull, and he knew that if he pulled Tony's mask free, those cold, dead eyes would be staring straight ahead. Unblinking. Unmoving. Thoroughly dead.

Still, he couldn't just give up. Peter choked back his sorrow and sucked in his fear before he knelt and tore the facemask off Tony's suit.

Tony slumped sideways at the aggression, but his eyes were closed, not dully open. And when Peter tentatively reached forward and touched the back of his head, it was bloody, but it didn't shift under his fingers, so his skull wasn't shattered. Peter let out a stuttered breath and somehow managed to find his voice; it was choked and hollow, but it worked, "Karen, is he…is he okay?"

The AI's sad voice matched Peter's sorrow, but she said, "He will be. I'm detecting a contusion on the back of his head, and he's unconscious, but it was not a fatal blow." There was a brief pause before audible fear slipped into her next warning, "Peter, behind you."

Half a breath before she demanded his attention turn elsewhere, his spider-sense warned of an impending attack. Spinning on his heels, Peter swung his arm up to block the attack. Determination surged to the forefront of his mind; he was going to keep them away from Tony. He set his feet and ground his teeth in defiance of anyone edging closer. But it was just the one man and Peter dealt with him viciously. Realizing the door was wide open, he rushed to close it and webbed it shut from the inside. Heading back over to Tony, he carefully looked him over. It wasn't that he didn't trust the AI, but he felt compelled to check.

Once he was convinced everything Karen said seemed accurate, Peter relaxed slightly. Tony groaned weakly as Peter moved his head gently enough to get a look at the nasty wound on the back of his head that was bleeding pretty heavily, and he quickly told FRIDAY to reform the helmet enough to stop the bleeding. Then he sat down next to him. He could hear the chatter of the others on the coms, but he couldn't handle moving right now. He felt guilty about it, but he was rooted to that spot. Next to his dad. In a relatively safe place.

Peter sat in silence as he waited for the others to finish the job, guilt, and fear crept more thoroughly into his gut as each moment passed. But then Natasha called out for help.

There was a brief moment where Peter considered staying where he was. Considered letting one of the others get to her. But when her position appeared in his HUD, he realized he was the closed one to her, and the need to help somehow overrode his fear. He couldn't leave her. He couldn't do that.

But he had to protect Tony.

Decision made, Peter lept into the rafters, and fired two webs down at the suit before he pulled Tony up as gently as he could. He webbed him to the wall and the crossbeam, ensuring he was out of sight in the dark room. He took one more look and assured himself Tony was alright before he dropped to the door and tore the webbing free. Then he took off toward Natasha's location.

While he moved, he ordered, "Karen, tell FRIDAY not to let him move if he wakes up. And let me know if anyone even gets close to that room."

She offered an affirmative but didn't get a chance to say anything more before Peter careened around the corner to the room Natasha was pinned down. He could tell from the concentration of fire that she was hunkered down behind a console in the middle of the room. She had managed to hold the men at bay so far, but the continuous rattling of overwhelming fire spoke to the hopelessness of her efforts. With barely a moment of thought, Peter fired two webs that hit the backs of two of the men. He pulled hard. The force yanked them off their feet and sent them flying back into the walls behind him. As they dropped unmoving to the ground, he webbed them to the wall without a backward glance. The other three quickly realized their backup was gone and turned in Peter's direction.

Natasha slipped out from behind the console and dropped two before Peter knocked the third one out. Suddenly, the room was quiet. There was a moment of calm before she stepped out from behind her cover and shot him a look of fondness she couldn't hide. Even still, her voice was even when she acknowledged his efforts, "Thanks." Then she gave a hint of an order, "Let's go find the others."

Tony had the mother of all headaches when he groaned into consciousness. He tried to move his arm up to his forehead but quickly found it wouldn't budge. Before he could take the time to figure out exactly what was going on, FRIDAY spoke up. "You're not allowed to move, boss. Peter's orders."

Tony had no hope of understanding that order, but at the mention of his son's name, Tony tried to turn again and quietly called, "Pete?" When he didn't get an answer, the throbbing in his head pounded to the forefront, and he passed out again.

Peter immediately shook his head and sputtered, "I can't meet up with the others yet. I have to get my dad back to the quinjet."

Natasha furrowed her brow and looked over his shoulder like she expected Tony to appear before she asked, "I was kind of wondering why he wasn't with you, what happened?"

Peter swallowed and explained the rocket launcher before he added, "I have to make sure he's alright before I can help with anything else."

Natasha nodded understandably, "Yeah, of course, go. I'll tell the rest of them what's going on." She regarded the man in front of her for a long moment before she laid her hand on his arm and promised, "He's alright, Peter. Go get him, and we'll take care of the rest, don't worry about it. From here on out, it's mostly a mop-up operation anyway."

Peter hung on her words and found himself nodding along as she told him what to do. When she finished, Peter just whispered, "Thanks, Nat."

Natasha gave him a small smile, "No problem, now, go. I'm going to go get the others."

Peter turned on his heel and rushed back to the room where he had left Tony. Leaping up to the crossbeam, Peter noticed Tony was groaning somewhere closer to consciousness. He let out a relieved, steadying breath before he started to pull the webbing free, jostling him as little as he could.

Tony groaned. Every heartbeat shot a reverberating pain through his head, and that built into a rather painful oscillation, but it still wasn't quite as bad as when he had woken up before. He could actually think right now, so he took stock with his eyes closed. Nothing else felt broken. Other than his head. And maybe a few ribs. But he'd had worse. Carefully, he winked one eye open and then the other. FRIDAY had already, thankfully, dimmed the lights in his mask, and his gaze solidified on Peter. His son's mask was gone, and even with his sluggish mind, Tony caught the fear on Peter's face. Groaning a little louder this time, he forced his mouth to form words, "'m alright, Pete." Talking hurt, but he could deal with it.

Peter dropped his head to his chest and murmured his thanks to whoever kept watch over them before he looked back up and gave Tony a soft smile. Peter nearly vibrated with unvoiced concern, but he knew that would have to wait until they weren't in hostile territory to voice it.

Tony winced as his helmet retracted, and he was greeted with a slightly different light in the…rafters? He was in the rafters. He allowed the brief realization this had to be Peter's doing, and with a wince that was meant to be a reassuring smile, he ground out, "You good?"

Peter muttered, "I'm fine." He managed to squash the urge to tell Tony exactly how frightened he was and how badly he had almost screwed up. It took far more effort than he thought it should.

Tony understood something was wrong, but knew he wouldn't be able to keep a conversation straight, so he quietly said, "Talk about it later?" Then his headache ratcheted back up, and he pressed his gauntleted hand to his head, grimacing. Once the acute pain passed back into a general throbbing, Tony managed to ground out a slurred, "Geezus, wha' was tha'?" His eyes were still tightly closed when FRIDAY filled in the answers.

"It appears you were hit but some kind of concussion artillery. There was nothing I could do to prevent damage from a blow from that range."

Peter just nodded along at her assessment, and then said, "You hit the wall, and it knocked you out." Then he almost guiltily added, "I had to go help Nat, so I webbed you up here to make sure no one saw you."

Tony frowned at the information but chose to ignore it because FRIDAY was starting to let chatter from the rest of the team filter through his mics. He winked his eyes open enough to regard Peter before he asked, "Help me down?"

Peter smirked and nodded immediately. Then couldn't help but poke, "Are you getting old, dad? You can't get yourself out of the rafters?"

Tony scowled, but his appreciative voice belied his expression, "Sure could, but this headache sucks." He was trying to be funny, but Peter's smirk slipped, and Tony hated that his scrambled mind couldn't come up with anything more to lighten the mood. But he didn't have long to think about it before Peter wrapped his arm around his shoulders and sat him up.

Peter carefully launched a web at the ceiling and gently dropped the two of them to the floor. When Tony didn't seem completely sure on his feet, Peter tightened his arm around his shoulders, letting Tony leaned heavily on him. But even with all that, Peter couldn't ignore the relief he felt that Tony was walking.

The trudge to the quinjet was a long one because of how slowly they were moving. Tony tried to grind his teeth shut, but it was still nearly impossible to keep the sharp gasps of pain from escaping as every step rattled his brain. That blast apparently had more power than he had initially thought. Peter kept shooting concerned glances in his direction but didn't say anything other than to acknowledge the larger conversations of the group, letting them know that he was taking Tony back to the jet, and then he would help. The fact it was in an uncharacteristically flat voice worried Tony. But he didn't get a chance to address it because as soon as he relaxed into a bed, Peter disappeared out of the quinjet.

The warehouse didn't take long to sweep, and once the government's team arrived, there was no reason for the Avengers to hang around. Far more tired than any of them felt they should be, they made their way back to the quinjet. Peter immediately darted to Tony's side. His concern was apparent as he looked him over, but once Peter assured himself Tony was fine, he stopped fussing and instead stayed glued to his side for the entirety of the flight. Uncharacteristically, Peter was reserved and only answered questions directed at him. His gaze held a tightly contained craziness, but he managed to hold it together until the team made it back to the Compound.

Tony spent the entire flight with his eyes closed and his head on Peter's shoulder. He was attempting to heal enough to address his son's obvious distress. It took the entirety of the flight, but by the time the jet landed, Tony had enough presence of mind to piece together a rough idea of what he needed to do. He waited for Peter to inevitably help him stand and start to direct him to the medical wing. Once he did, Tony forced him toward one of the meeting rooms off the hanger instead.

Peter allowed the change in direction, but once the door closed, he nervously said, "You need to go see the doctor, dad."

Tony levered into a chair and pressed his hand to his head before he winced up at Peter and demanded, "Not until we talk about what's going on."

Peter's eyes widened in embarrassment and surprise. He nervously shifted on his feet and stuttered, "Nothing…nothing is going on."

Tony dropped his hand to the table with a thud and demanded, "Bullshit, Pete. If you want me to go see the doctor, you better start telling me the truth."

Peter's gaze dropped before he fell into a chair next to Tony and admitted, "I shouldn't have gone on that mission. I should have listened to you."

Tony's brow furrowed over his squinted eyes before he asked, "Why?"

Peter's big eyes pleaded with him to avoid this conversation.

But Tony knew that couldn't happen, Peter had buried too much for too long, and it couldn't keep happening. He swallowed his guilt and pushed, "You shouldn't have listened to me. You helped me. You protected Natasha. How could you going have been the wrong decision?"

"I hesitated," Peter admitted with a shrug. When Tony silently encouraged him to keep going, he confessed, "I stopped fighting with the team. As soon as I saw you drop, I seriously considered abandoning them to make sure you were okay. That can't happen, I can't do that." Then his voice took on the haunted quality it adapted when he talked about something he remembered, "I saw it again. I saw them kill you. And I...couldn't move." He scoffed as frustration stilled his tongue.

Tony's heart broke as he watched the war playing out on Peter's face, and he quietly promised, "I'm alright, Pete. I'm okay. It's alright."

Peter's soft voice contradicted Tony's claim, "No, no, it's not. It turned out okay this time, but what if it hadn't?" Peter sucked in a deep breath and tried to collect himself, well aware of what he was admitting. He dragged his gaze up and asked, "What if someone else had gotten hurt because I wasn't watching their back? What if someone died because I wasn't doing my job? What would you be saying then?" Peter dropped his voice to a whisper, "I was a liability."

Tony frowned, and retorted, "No, you weren't."

"How could you know that?" Peter accused, "You were unconscious because I let something happen to you."

Tony's gaze shot up angrily, the blame Peter insisted on taking made him angry enough to battle back the pain, "You didn't let anything happen to me. We were on a mission, and people attacked us. I got hit. That's a risk we all take. You didn't let something happen. If anything, I'm still here, so that means you kept someone far worse from happening." Tony took a shaky breath and calmed down before he said, "I was unconscious for some of that fight, but Natasha thanked you in the jet, and you told me you had to leave me there to help her." Tony leaned forward, emploring Peter to understand when he explained with sheer conviction, "That's not a liability, that's what you're supposed to do when you're part of a team."

"But, I froze," Peter argued.

Tony shrugged and said, "Okay." But when Peter's eyes just widened, Tony continued, "I've frozen too, Pete. You had a horrifying experience, and you stopped for a moment. A moment. The fact that you only paused means your instincts, not mine, were right. You are ready to go back if you want." Then Tony dropped his gaze and admitted, "I was afraid for you, that was the only reason I questioned you going. It wasn't that I didn't think you could do it; it was that I was afraid you would get hurt, and I wasn't sure I could take that again. Not yet."

"But what if…" Peter shot back, trailing off when his argumentative confidence wavered.

Tony cut his hand across the space between them before pressing his hand back to his forehead and tightly closing his eyes, "Peter, stop. That's not going to help. You can't ask the what-ifs; you can only look at what happened." Tony groaned as the pain he had been keeping at bay started to creep back in. Still, he forced the rest of what he was saying out, "And what happened was that you did what you had to do. You stayed in the fight. You protected Natasha, that's what matters. This," he gestured between them, "insecurity we can deal with, but it doesn't mean you deserve to doubt yourself."

Peter shook his head, his frown deepening as he saw Tony's obvious pain, "I don't want to have to deal with it. I just want it to be done."

Tony shrugged and dropped his hand again, determined to finish this conversation, "Of course, you do. But you won't have to forever, it's just right now, going out means dealing with it. So, what you have to decide is, is continuing to be Spider-Man is worth dealing with this part of it?"

Peter took barely a moment to consider that before he nodded in the affirmative and added, "It is, it is worth it."

Tony smiled broadly despite his wandering gaze that ended in two Peters. Forcing his gaze back into focus, Tony said, "Good. As long as you know this is the price for right now, you'll be alright." Then Tony added, "And for the foreseeable future, you'll be calling me after every mission."

Peter knew that Tony should be in the medical wing, but he couldn't miss the chance to hint at something close to normal. He smirked, but his gaze was on the ground when he tried to retort, "I think you just want to live vicariously through my patrols."

But Tony turned oddly serious, "No, I just want to make sure that you're safe." He lowered his voice and said, "And I don't want to find out that you took some serious hits from your fiancée because you were trying to hide the danger of something that happened."

Peter shrugged his shoulders up, but his gaze was still on the floor when he agreed, "Okay."

"Good," Tony said. He reached out and forced Peter to look him in the eyes before he said, "I just want you to be safe and healthy. That's it." He was going to say more, but his injuries took control, and he leaned forward on his knees, dropping his head into his hands. All that he had managed to hold in the background pounded to life, and Tony realized just how badly his head, and his chest, hurt. He winced as he admitted, "I think I need to see the doctor now." He shakily put his hand on the table to try and force himself to his feet but didn't quite make it.

Instead, Peter lunged forward to catch him. He gently lifted Tony out of the chair before he slid under Tony's arm and took his weight. He quietly ordered, "Come on, dad."

By the end of the night, Tony was back with the rest of the team in the living room. The doctor had tried to him longer, but Tony somehow convinced her he wouldn't be going anywhere, and she eventually conceded to let him out as long as he promised to take it easy for the rest of the night. That meant a movie night for the Avengers.

It was another step toward the normal.

Peter settled into the evening that had been familiar in another life, and he was ecstatic when he realized he didn't feel out of place. As he sat on the couch with his family, Michelle was curled into his side with Morgan snuggled between him and Tony, Peter felt some of the anxiety he had been carrying ease. He wasn't better, he knew that, but he had survived. And his world was still intact. A moment of peace washed over him at that thought. He knew it would take more time to be okay...really okay...but knowing he had help, made that formerly daunting task achievable.

And as he leaned into the couch cushions, Tony laid his hand briefly on Peter's shoulder. Understanding the request, Peter tipped his head over Morgan's and met Tony's gaze. He immediately read the confidence and pride shining through. That moment of peace swelled, and Peter felt his own confidence, and hope, build in his chest. Taking a moment to appreciate it, Peter leaned back and murmured, "Thanks, dad."

Tony smiled softly before he said, "Always, Pete."

Without another word, they turned back to the movie.

Alright, so there you have it, the last chapter of this story! I hope you enjoyed it and that this ending worked to wrap everything up.

As always, please feel free to let me know what you thought about it in the reviews.

I also want to say that this will be my last story for a while because I do have my own fiction story I'm working on, and I need to devote some more time to that. But who knows, Marvel is always there in the background, so I'm sure I'll be back at some point.

I hope you have a wonderful night/day and stay creative!

-Lily