Tony and his Kids

Are Superheroes Supposed to Cry?

Warnings: fighting, mourning, and self-deprecating thoughts.

I don't think I missed any warnings, but my brain is exhausted. I had to rewrite this twice over the course of a few weeks as I tried to break my writer's block. I rewrote it because I accidentally deleted it...

I also hate the first paragraph and I don't know why. Might be the flow of it. Still, I hope you enjoy!

It the three month anniversary since the Final Battle and Peter was going to go on his first patrol since that day. The day his world turned upside down because one of the greatest people he'd ever known died right in front of him.

He almost didn't go. He almost turned his back to his suit like he had done so many other times. May had packed it away in his closet as soon as they got home after the funeral, him not even wanting to look at it. It reminded him too much of Mr. Stark. It reminded him too much of Tony. It reminded him too much of the pain that had been consuming him since the moment he saw the light leave his mentor's eyes.

The first time he allowed his eyes to roam to it, two months and three days after the Final Battle, he closed the door so hard that it came off its hinges. He had stared in shock at what he'd done, hand still on the door knob, then started to sob like he had at the funeral. He'd been fighting back the tears for so long. May had heard, or maybe it was what she called her 'aunt senses,' and came running from the other side of their new apartment. She'd seen the damage, but barely spared it a glance before enveloping him in the hug he desperately needed.

The door was put back in place by a neighbor the next morning, but May had to get out his clothes for the next three days after that. It took him a week to look at the suit again.

Slowly, he was able to look at it without crying. He slowly progressed to be able to touch the suit, then hold it in his hands. By the night of the anniversary, he thought he was ready. He hoped he was ready.

Peter waited until May was asleep before pulling the suit off the hanger. She had an early shift in the morning and had gone to bed after spending the entire day close to the teen's side. He appreciated her for doing that- there were so many times that day where he wanted to cry and did because he knew she wouldn't judge him for bawling like a baby over the smallest things that reminded him of his mentor.

He sat down on his bed for a few minutes, wiping at stray tears with one hand while running his hand over the smooth fabric with the other. Said fabric was supposed to be seven years old now, but to him, it was just two years old. The colors were as bold as they had been the day that he got it and the tech was still ahead of time. The nanotech housing was tucked in his drawer, collecting dust since the evening after the battle, having compressed itself down into the shape of a spider that was just bigger than his hand. He had decided not to use it for this patrol. It was an even bigger reminder of the day he and half the universe had been snapped away.

Peter pulled in a deep breath and then stood, tugging on the suit over his pajamas. He was more careful than he had been the first day he got the suit, slowly pushing his arms and legs into the limbs. He pressed the spider symbol on his chest and the fabric pressed itself against his skin. He turned back to his bed where the mask laid. The last piece.

He held it in his hands for a few seconds, and then pulled it over his face, allowing it to soak up the tears on his cheeks and flatten his hair to his head. Familiar lights filled his vision as a very missed voice sounded in his ears.

"Hello, Peter. It is good to see you again," Karen said warmly. It almost made Peter very again, but this time from happy, relieved tears. It was so nice to hear his faithful AI's voice again.