Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

When Tomorrow Comes

Peter Stark-Rogers’ head is against the window, lightly thumping against it. There's no sense of feeling, only a sense of numbness that lingered within his worn frame. He should feel, angry, sad, upset, but with the bundle on his lap, and what he knows is inevitable, he's tired of all the feelings that he has to force down for the sake of his family.

He pulls his baby sister close to his heart, praying that her sleep is as peaceful as she looks, utterly knocked out. The past few months have been tiresome. Last night was no different. He’s just as exhausted as she is, and after staying up all night and morning while she had chemotherapy definitely took a toll on him, if not at least on his circadian rhythm. The teenager didn’t have the strength to relax, not after what had happened earlier in the morning while his dads thought he had zoned out. 

He was snuggled against his younger sister, carding her hair in an attempt to get her to fall asleep, unable to fathom just how much pain the five-year-old was in. It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest bit, Peter had thought, but then again, since when was life fair? He was on her right side, while his dads were on the left, doing their best to keep their daughter in as much comfort as possible, despite the fact that she was deteriorating by the second. 

Morgan’s eyes were finally slipping shut when a light rasp on the door had stirred her back up. Peter shook his head, a mental form of communication the two siblings used to let them know that it was nothing. Go back to sleep, I’m right here. Nothing, nothing else is going to hurt you. 

What Peter didn’t take into account of his statement, would be the truth. 

The head doctor walked in, quietly signaling his dads to step outside to privately confer. Though their voices were hushed whispers, Peter’s accelerated healing still picked up on the exchanged words. He didn’t need to hear a lot, tuning out when the doctor had revealed that chemotherapy wouldn’t be enough for his sister. Long story short, his sister couldn’t be saved, and was just one more life stolen by cancer. 

Peter had only once felt such a strong desire to cry, which was exactly six months ago when his dads had told him that his baby sister was diagnosed with a tumor in her brain. A feeling of sickness had overcome him, and the ill feeling had lived inside him long since. He was happy that Morgan was asleep, not having to know, at least not yet that she wouldn’t live to be six years old. 

The teen was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of a door opening, and his dads walked back inside. The two were holding hands, and Peter noticed tear-stained cheeks. Peter could only flash them a warm smile, snaking his hand over to where his dads’ fingers intertwined, letting them know that everything was going to be okay, even if it wasn’t. 

Peter murmured softly, “It’s going to be okay.” He asked quietly as to not wake his sister who had just fallen asleep, “Did she say when we could leave?” The boy was in no rush, but had a natural preference for falling asleep in his own bed rather than one at the hospital. 

Fast forward five hours later, Peter was slumped in the backseat, with his baby sister draped across his form. A part of him envied her, sound asleep not knowing that she was going to die. Peter on the other hand, couldn’t relax, not with the dark circles on his pale sister, but found his eyes slipping shut anyway. 

Peter was half-asleep when he felt the weight on top of him be pulled off, and panicked, “No, my Morgan.” He was still asleep as he reached for his sister, always worrying about her like the overprotective brother he was. 

A fond voice chuckled softly, “She’s all yours, Papa’s going to take her upstairs, and I’ve got the bigger bambino.” Peter recognized the voice to be his dad’s, who traced on the jean fabric on his left knee. The fifteen year old nodded, lazily throwing his arms out for his dad to pry him to his chest. 

Tony carried Peter who still fit perfectly in his arms all the way up to his bed. Sensing the boy’s sleepiness, the father helped his son change into a pair of pajamas, and tucked him under the covers, smiling fondly at his son’s disheveled curls, making him look even younger than he already did. 

Peter snaked a hand onto Tony’s wrist, “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” 

Tony complied, allowing Peter to curl up right next to him. 

Peter breathed out as he buried his head into his father’s chest, “I um, heard about what the doctor said earlier.” His voice was quiet and shaky, letting himself feel for the first time in hours. 

Tony couldn’t help but look down at Peter’s face, and wipe the stray tears with his thumb pads. He breathed out softly, “Kiddo, it’s going to be okay. Even though it’s not, we have each other right? We just have to be strong for Morgan alright? I love you so much, you know that right? Whatever happens, should anything happen to both of my kids, I need the both of you know how much me and your papa love you, alright?” 

Peter nodded as tears threatened to cloud his vision. He wiped his eyes as he replied, “I know. I love you too.” 

Tony smiled at that, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead, “Get some rest, I’m not going anywhere.” 

 

Comment some requests for me to do. Inspirations been hard since quarantine. Don't forget to comment and vote how u liked this for this and the previous one...fun fact I also wrote this last week too.