#she hasn't seen him in a very long time...she's forgotten his name lol

[sxarletdisastxr-blog]

*leaves roses in your inbox* Just a remind that I love you x

“Oh.” Scarlet looks at the roses and smiles. “Wait. What was your name again? Philanderer? Um...no...uh...”

[sreppub]

Tony and Morgan + Y

this ended up kind of long lol.... despite the prompt, I promise it's happy, though! 💖 enjoy!

Y. Tears

Tony thinks he'll go mad waiting, but God, it's worth the wait.

It's months before he can even stay conscious for more than a half hour, only waking in spurts before that, and even then he's hazy from the painkillers. His awareness varies each time; sometimes, he barely makes a noise before slumping back into his pillow and others he gets so far as to wonder why his arm is so numb, even compared to the rest of him.

The first time he wakes up somewhat lucid it's not so much a sudden jolt of consciousness, but a slow coaxing. The room is bright and a soft voice fades in and out, and even before he opens his eyes he recognizes who is murmuring in his ear, holding his hand.

He wants to cry. He should crack a joke, at the very least. "Don't try to speak," Pepper warns him, grinning softly because she knows what he's thinking. It's for the best, because the joke that his morphine brain had concocted then was pretty much gibberish. Also, there's a tube in his mouth and throat. "You're okay. Everyone's okay. You did it." Pepper murmurs to her husband in low tones until he falls back under, exhausted, but also massively relieved.

This goes on for a week or two. Sometimes it's Pepper, and sometimes it's Rhodey, who doesn't caress his cheek and whisper sweet nothings like Pepper does but at this point Tony honestly wouldn't mind if he did. He's been through a lot.

An assortment of others; Happy, Bruce. He never remembered seeing Peter, but he'll spot a forgotten sheet of chemistry homework on the bedside table or a familiar worn out sweater left on the chair, and that is enough to overwhelm him a few times. Tony once caught Steve peering in from the open door one night. Tony didn't give any indication of being awake, and Steve didn't make any moves to enter the room; the several minutes seemed like hours until he sighed and moved on. Tony had a flurry of complicated feelings about that night. More often than not, though, there's no one.

Tony's sense of time is kind of shot right now, so he doesn't know how long it's been since his first conscious morning with Pepper when he finally has some clarity in his brain and that stupid tube out of his mouth and he croaks out his first actual word since Iron Man. "M'rg'n?"

One of the first things Pepper does when he wakes up is assure him that Morgan is okay, that she's at home with Happy and so excited to see her Daddy and that she's sending all her kisses. Every available flat surface in the room holds a hand drawn card, with new ones coming in every few days. But he hasn't seen her.

Pepper gently squeezes his good hand. "She's at home with Happy, honey."

"Pep," Tony says with as much meaning as he can muster. The name comes out a little funny, but she gets it.

"I'm sorry, Tony, but it's too soon."

It's been weeks, Tony whines wordlessly. Too long.

"I'm sorry, baby," she says again. "It's just... you'll scare her, as you are right now. Give it time." He doesn't get to answer because he fades out again, and its only the heavy medication that keeps his sleep uneventful.

a/n: the next paragraph describes some of tony's injuries and treatments after snapping. start reading again at Long and painful process to skip it.

Tony's recovery is long and hard. He's no stranger to the cuts and bruises of battling from the inside of a metal suit, but that battle pushed him past his limits. There are too many fractures, breaks, and punctures to count, and a pretty serious concussion (which doesn't help with the counting). They try to save as much of his arm as possible, and almost succeed, but complications will continue to pile up and after months of his nerves and muscles continuing to deteriorate, he'll ultimately lose it. His burns are extensive, having spread across the right side of his body and a little further, even, and even though Tony had never been shown a picture of the early stages, he kind of gets why Pepper doesn't want Morgan to see him like this. The stones' powers wreaked havoc on his internal organs, his already weak heart, and his old RT cavity, so that has to be continually dealt with. And on top of it all, Tony has to undergo ongoing treatment fighting the radioactivity that still pulses weakly (but not weakly enough) from his snapping arm, which is yet another reason for losing it.

Long and painful process. But if that's what it took to save his family, he'd do it again and again.

Oh yes, Tony thinks, hearing the far doors at the end of the corridor outside his room swing open months later, it's worth it.

Several pairs of footsteps follow; Pepper's squeaky worn keds, maybe another adult he couldn't be assed to think about, and a pattering of tiny feet that set his own heart racing.

"Daddy!" Morgan calls from the hallway, and he can't even see her yet, but he's crying. Out the one eye, at least; his right eye has lost some functionality, but the skin on the right side of his face is healed enough for him to speak comfortably, to smile, even. (Kinda. It's a little stiff.)

What's he even crying for? He's here, she's here, and everyone's okay. Must be the medication throwing his emotional response all out of whack, though, and also one of the machines he's hooked up to making his chest squeeze.

"In here, Goona," Tony chokes out, gripping the sheets. He can't get out of bed yet, though not for lack of trying, but he can speak and feed himself and, apparently, see his baby.

Time seems to move in slow motion from the moment the little girl appears in the door. For all the work Helen, Shuri, Bruce, and their finest have done, his heart feels like it stops. It's been barely three months, the first time she is allowed to come visit--and mind you, he'd been in a coma directly after the battle so, for Morgan, it had been nearly five months since seeing her Daddy in person, and that's already so much of her short little life--and he still has half his right arm and bandages and a leg cast and a few tubes and wires but he has everything he needs to accept his baby girl as she climbs the guest chair and squeezes onto the bed next to Tony (directly against Pepper's sole stipulation of do not touch Daddy, but who could blame a little girl). Besides, Tony can't feel anything but joy right now. He missed her. He missed her so much and he almost didn't come home to her.

Finally, this isn't a crayon drawing and a recorded message for Tony to watch inbetween medicated naps, or shaky video calls where someone else has to hold the phone for him (hands-free hologram functionality in the medical wing, that's the first thing he'll fix after he gets to leave). This is Morgan, real and solid, the smell of her fruity kids shampoo and everything. She squirms on the bed, hair falling in her face as she looks up at Tony with the big brown eyes she'd copied from him. "Hi, Daddy. I missed you."

"Hi Munchkin," he sobs. "Well, I missed you three thousand." He barely got the last word out. God, he's soft. He doesn't think he's cried this much since she called for dada for the first time. Shit, he's hiccuping now. Pepper arrives then, and as she opens her mouth Morgan scoots backwards into the siderail and says, "I'm not touching him!" In response, Tony can't help but snake his good arm around her and pull her closer, chest pain be damned. Pepper, glassy eyed, snorts quietly but leaves them be, dropping into the guest chair (but like, in a graceful, Pepper Potts way).

"Yes, you are," he giggles, and she giggles, too, reaching for his hand, and if that isn't enough to bring the memory back of a tiny pink fist grabbing the tip of his finger for the very first time--

(Another shuddery sob. The meds. It's gotta be the meds.)

"Daddy, you're crying," Morgan points out baldly, squeezing his hand and tracing the small tattoo of her name on his inner arm.

"What? No, I'm not." He sniffs obnoxiously and grins extra wide. "How's that possible if I'm actually smiling?"

"You're half smiling," she corrects, eyeing his right side, and then imitating his apparently crooked smile. "It's kind of creepy." Ouch. Despite her harsh words, she doesn't seem frightened at all. Tony really should have expected this from his daughter. She's tough as hell. She plays with bugs, like disgusting from-the-dirt-bugs, for fun.

She doesn't seem to care about his Phantom of the Opera impression or his greasy, partially singed haircut (which is great, because he shaved his beard once and she snickered at his face every day until it grew back. Kids could be funny like that, and he's not sure he could take it in his current state). She hasn't spared more than a glance to his arm or the equipment he was connected to. Right now, she's just a girl snuggling her dad for the first time in a long while.

Pepper is laughing silently behind Morgan. Tony's pretty sure their combined, brilliant presence is going to heal his injuries instantly. They're just powerful like that. "Oh, my smile is creepy? Big words coming from Miss Gaps-a-lot. I can't believe you lost your first baby tooth when I wasn't home! Who does that?" Morgan beams at him, showing off her very fashionable and grown up gapped smile. Tony shudders dramatically, and his precious, weird kid only giggles harder.

"And I have another wiggly one, too!" she informs him.

"What! Miss Morgan, I'm sorry, but you're just gonna have to keep that sucker in there for a little bit longer," Tony says, shaking his head. "At least until Daddy's all better and gets to come home with you. I missed the first one, but you bet I'm gonna be there to catch the next nineteen." Jesus, even the idea of his baby losing all her baby teeth is setting him off, and another tear falls from his left eye. Stupid meds. Or something.

"Okay," she says simply, because she's a little kid and her Dad hasn't broken a promise yet. Not a real one. Then, like a kid, she hums a little as she looks around before changing the subject entirely. "Are you charging, Daddy?" she asks innocently, pointing to the monitoring wires coming from Tony's paper gown, leading to the machines on the bedside opposite from her and Pepper, not to mention the tasty, tasty IV drip.

Tony stares thoughtfully at his daughter. "Yes," he confirms.

When he starts to show signs of flagging, which is painfully soon, Pepper smartly and smoothly wraps up their visit without so much as a tear from Morgan (though that's more than she can say for her husband). Over time, the visits get longer, and Tony gets stronger. The winter holidays and Morgan's and Pepper's birthdays passed or were celebrated in Tony's hospital room, but by Tony's birthday, he was cleared to rest at (his recently retrofitted for certain injured saviours of the universe) home.

Which, obviously, meant whining and convincing his doctors to be let out two weeks early to surprise his wife on Mother's Day.