Nimi: where the time marries the sea
Kirjoittaja: Aurinkolapsi
Alkuperäisteos: Marvel
Tyylilaji: angst with a happy ending, time travel fix-it
Hahmot: Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, Peter Parker, Tony Stark & Pepper Potts
Ikäraja: K-11
Varoitukset: maininnat itsemurhasta, kuolemasta & alaikäinen päihtyneenä
Oma sana: Angelina, Dulz ♥
Löytyy myös täältä.
where the time marries the sea
Imagine living in a world where people talk to you about your father like they knew him better than you do, and in some cases they're right. A world where you're expected to surpass him, even though he was one of the brightest minds in history.
A world where your big brother kills himself because he can't handle the guilt and the grief and the weight of the world. A world where your mother is forced to become a superhero because the threats won't stop at your father saving it because there will always be someone worse — there will always be someone who wants to rule the world, the galaxy, the universe. There will always be someone who thinks they know better.
Imagine growing up in this world, always watched but never seen.
Morgan H. Stark is 15 years old when she holds her first lecture about the spacetime continuum and the accessibility of the fourth dimension at MIT. Ironically, it's on the tenth anniversary of the Reversal. The lecture is a success, even though she feels her voice waver, her hands shake. She is met with a standing ovation and a thousand questions. She knows she can only thank her father — no one would be interested without her surname.
Morgan H. Stark is 15 years old when she gets drunk for the first time. She stumbles out of some college party and calls Happy to pick her up. She throws up on his shoes. She cries. They get cheeseburgers and talk about her Dad. And then about Peter.
At seventeen her world faces another Thanos. The Saviour, he calls himself. Has the armies of Andromeda behind him. He seems like a grade-A asshole, if anyone asks Morgan. Tall and ominous and arrogant. He looks like a young human man with long red hair and a fur-lined coat and a cocky grin. But Morgan guesses, if Asgardians can look human, other alien species might as well.
He attacks New York because, of course. Morgan gets caught in the crossfire, gets dangled off from the roof of the Stark Tower by her throat. She never knew that FRIDAY has protocols for her, for… Iron Man. She never knew there was a suit for her — one that could still fit her. The Saviour holds her up, smirking at her and before he can start his villain monologue, the arc reactor flies into her sternum and in seconds the suit envelops her.
The man is clearly startled and drops her, but the thrusters power up and she’s hanging in the air. The HUD lights up in front of her eyes.
“FRIDAY?” she asks, in awe.
“Right here, Miss Stark.”
The Avengers get to the battlefield after that. FRIDAY helps Morgan to figure out the Iron Man armour. She’s jumping into the fray before she has time to make a conscious decision. Their foes look like men, bleed like men but she keeps shooting.
“Go home, Morgan!” her mother yells at her. She doesn’t. And because fate has a sense of irony, the Avengers defeat The Saviour but Rescue lays down her life. Morgan is there to hold her hand. She smiles and tells her, “I told you to go home, baby.”
At seventeen Morgan H. Stark inherits the Stark Industries. She couldn’t care less about the press already dragging her (before her mother’s corpse has grown cold) or the expectations of this worthless world that took everything from her and gave nothing back. She hides in her father’s lab with the bots and stares out at the dark New York City skyline.
This time there are no hologram messages.
For the next year, Happy becomes her legal guardian and the CEO of Stark Industries. They don’t have much time for cheeseburgers. It’s fine with Morgan — she’s busy in
her dad’s her lab, anyway. Sometimes FRIDAY questions her. She knows she’s been fixated on
time since she was a child but after watching how they raise Rescue’s memorial next to Iron Man’s… her obsession has grown into new proportions.
“What are you doing, Miss Stark?” she asks one night when she’s taking apart her Iron Man armour
again and reading Uncle Bruce’s study of time travel and the quantum realm and its limitations for the ninth time that day.
“Research,” Morgan answers tersely.
It goes on that way for a while. Time loses its meaning; days, weeks, months blend into one. Her eighteenth birthday comes and goes. She’s asked once if she wants to take over Stark Industries. She doesn’t.
“This isn’t a good idea, Morgan,” FRIDAY says cautiously.
“Uncle Bruce says that you can’t change the present by changing the past,” Morgan tells her, angrily. “I’m going to find a way. I don’t need the quantum realm, I don’t need the Pym Particles!”
She mutes FRIDAY for a week. After that, she doesn't protest anymore.
She decides she should execute a real-life test before jumping in blind. It’s a sample size of one but, Morgan figures, when it comes to time travel, it’s better than nothing.
“FRIDAY? What did Happy eat for breakfast?”
“Multigrain Cheerios with almond milk and a banana, Miss Stark,” FRIDAY tells her. She sounds like she wants to sigh.
It might seem stupid to go back in time for a couple of hours to make your kind-of father figure a plate of sandwiches and stalk him eat them from around the corner, but Morgan tells herself it’s
for science. She goes back to the present (or is it the future?) and picks up a couple of bobas and an assortment of muffins from the cafeteria floor before going to find Happy in his office.
“Hey! Did you have breakfast?” Morgan asks cheerfully.
“I — Yeah, didn’t you —? There were some sandwiches in the kitchen, I thought you left them for me?”
“Yeah, I did!” Morgan grins and hands Happy his bubble tea before setting the muffins down in front of him. “Did you like them?”
“Sure,” he says and frowns. “You’re acting all weird, Morg. What’s going on?”
“Oh, nothing,” she assures him, plops herself down on one of the chairs in front of his desk and slurps at her blueberry tea. “I love you, you know that right? I’m really grateful for all you’ve done.”
“Love you too, kid,” Happy says dubiously and before biting into his muffin.
Morgan leaves that night.
She’s laying on her back. Her head feels fuzzy, her ears are ringing.
“FRIDAY?” Morgan coughs out. “Did it work?”
Everything comes into focus. The roar of the battle is deafening.
“It would seem so, Miss Stark,” FRIDAY says, resigned.
She groans and gets up. Time to change the fucking world.
This is war, Morgan quickly realises. No one questions her when she jumps in and starts shooting the aliens. They don’t have time to wonder who is this new superhero donning an amalgamation of colours from Iron Man, Spider-Man
and Rescue. She fights her way through the battlefield while FRIDAY is scanning for the gauntlet. As luck would have it, she finds it in Spider-Man’s possession.
Morgan flies straight to him and before she can think, she’s hugging Peter to her.
“Do I know you?” Peter asks, bemused. Morgan squeezes him tighter. She wants to sob.
“I hope you will, Petey,” she whispers to him.
She takes the gauntlet from him. It’s almost too easy.
“What are you doing?”
“You should probably stand back,” she says with a weak voice as she pulls the gauntlet on.
“What did it feel like?” she once asked Uncle Bruce. She was probably seven years old, maybe eight. She had asked a lot about the Time Heist before. About the Decimation and the Reversal. This was something she hadn't dared to ask before but Bruce probably didn't think much of it.
He told her how tendrils made of light circled and climbed his arm, how the stones pushed against his mind and challenged his will. How it felt like burning and the pain shook him to his core, burrowed into him until there was nothing but... infinity.
His eyes went glassy and distant. They were silent for a while. Bruce seemed to come back when Morgan finally spoke.
“So Dad died in pain,” Morgan had thought out loud. She didn't know what to think. She'd rather he wouldn't have died at all. She didn't know if 'painless' would have been much of a consolation. He was gone regardless.
“I'm sorry,” Bruce had said solemnly. “I'm really sorry, Morgan.”
Morgan had taken his hand in hers, comically huge in contrast. “It's okay,” she had said. It wasn't okay.Uncle Bruce's words never left her. She kept thinking about it over the years, she convinced herself she could take it. Every step of the way — especially when she knew she was getting closer — she told herself that it would be worth it. Whatever it would take, she would give.
Being with the stones, she isn't so certain. They pull at her, jab at her mind, scream at her — or it might just be her own voice.
“What is she doing?” someone screams but Morgan can barely comprehend it. With the gauntlet, there's too much input for her brain to filter. The world fades away. With the infinity, Uncle Bruce had said. Morgan can understand that.
Destroy Thanos and his armies, she thinks. It's been her mantra for years. Now it's not a wish — it's not even a goal. It's a demand, an order.
The stones do not speak, but they tell her it's too much to ask.
No. It's not, she tells them. She brings her fingers together. She feels the stones' anger. She doesn't care. She isn't giving up now; she snaps her fingers.
Their power was tearing her apart, but now she feels the light spread between the atoms that make her. Morgan wonders if she's the one turning into ashes.
Peter cries out as her body gives in and she crumples. He's there to take her weight — as a big brother should. God, he's such a good brother. And now he doesn't need to die.
“Did I —” Morgan coughs wetly. “Did I do it?”
Peter sobs, holding her. “Yeah,” he whispers. “They're all gone.”
Peter helps her sit and soon they’re surrounded. Morgan feels like crying when Iron Man lands next to them and hurries to them, mask falling off his face.
“Hey, Dad,” she says weakly. “I really missed you.”
“What?” Tony's voice is unreadable. Peter looks at Tony like he doesn't know him.
“I don't really know what's going to happen now,” Morgan confesses. “I'm sorry.”
She breathes deep even though it hurts. Closes her eyes.
“Hey,” Tony says, with a desperate edge to his voice. “Hey, kid. Don't pass out now. You're a hero — and I already had one hero kid die on me with 'I'm sorry', you don't get to do that. That's Peter's shtick.” He's panicking, Morgan knows. Her dad rambles when he's excited and when he's panicking.
“I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says miserably. Morgan laughs, wheezing. Struggles her eyes open so she can see them, dirty and bloody and tired but alive.
“Shut it. Wasn't your fault.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Morgan says before Peter opens his mouth. “Take care of dad for me, will you, Pete? And you,” she reaches for her dad. Tony takes her hand. “I love you.” This time she really is crying. “Look out for him. He needs you.” She glances at Peter who’s still looking like he understands nothing of this world.
“You sound like you’re planning on dying on me,” Tony says.
Morgan hums. “It’s okay.”
“No, kid. No, it’s not okay. Listen — wait, no. Kid, I love you, too. You hear that? You don’t get to die —”
Her mom always said dad was emotionally constipated and now he’s telling a kid he doesn’t know that he loves them. She’s too tired to laugh. She closes her eyes instead, takes her last stuttering breath before the darkness.
The first thing that registers is beeping. The smell of disinfectant. She can’t feel her arm.
“She’s waking up,” someone says somewhere far away.
Morgan blinks into the sharp light. She finds a familiar mop of curly brown hair next to her hip and can’t stop herself. She pushes her fingers in and has to close her eyes and
breathe to keep the tears at bay. Morgan doesn’t know why she’s alive, she doesn’t know if it’s going to stay that way but… she could die right now, knowing it was worth it. It feels like borrowed time,
stolen time, but she’s not going to question it.
She feels a hand brush at her eyes before she fully thinks she should, and opens them, startled. It’s hers, she realises. She thought — thought it was paralyzed or maybe amputated, but. She just can’t feel it. Morgan twists her arm this way and that, looks at the black raised skin, coloured tendrils pulsing through.
She shakes Peter to wake him. “Peter,” she says, her voice wavering. It’s barely more than a whisper. “What’s going on?”
Before Peter can answer, they’re surrounded. When Steve marches in, Morgan knows this is Captain America, even without the full battle regalia. That’s not Uncle Clint who she spent summers with. That’s not Uncle Rhodey who tinkered with her and spent holidays with them. Wanda isn’t the cool babysitter turned friend.
When Pepper walks in, seemingly focused on her Stark pad, followed by morose looking Tony, Morgan can’t bring herself to think that this isn’t mom and dad. She can’t tell herself that the much too young boy next to her bed isn’t her big brother.
“What’s going on?” she asks again.
Everyone is eerily silent for a moment that keeps stretching. Tony sighs, crosses his arms and steps a little closer. “We don’t know. The stones are gone — or it looks like they’re
in you so why don’t you explain to us.”
Morgan swallows. She thought she knew everything there was to know about the infinity stones, or at least she had read everything there was to find. But it’s not like this is something that has happened before. “I don’t think — I didn’t — That, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” she defends.
“So what happens to the other timelines?” Captain America challenges.
“I don’t know,” Morgan confesses.
“You didn’t think about them when you decided to go through this, did you?” He’s coming across downright hostile. It’s such a stark contrast to the Steve she knows. Morgan knows she took his excuse to stay in the past and she knows he doesn’t know her or trust her, but his cold words still aggravate her.
“No, I did,” she answers sharply. It’s true. She went through scenarios where she fails in some way and there’s no one to take the stones back. This possibility never came to mind. “I just didn’t
care.”
“You
didn’t care,” Steve echoes, affronted.
“Hey,” Tony tries, his voice forcibly level. “Back off a little, will you?”
“Yes! I didn’t care because the future was so much worse! I didn’t do this just because Steve was gone and dad was dead and then Peter was dead
and then mom was dead, too! I did this because the next time a new Thanos, a new Saviour, a new
whatever comes and the last of the Avengers die, too — what happens then?”
They’re silent in the face of her outburst.
“I’d like to go back to sleep now,” she says weakly and turns away from them. She catches Peter’s horrified expression and squeezes her eyes shut.
It's easy to convince them that she is from the future. Then again maybe she shouldn't be surprised — they already knew time travel to be a possibility.
Just to be sure, they get her DNA tested and after it comes back, Tony and Pepper spend more time around even though Morgan knows they need to be there for her kid counterpart. The world is still trying to find its bearings so Peter doesn't have school and hangs out with her a lot. She knows he's affected by the version of the future she left behind — and once they're watching Netflix, just existing together, he asks her about it cautiously.
“Morgan. How did I die?”
“Dad had died,” she tells him. “He couldn't live in a world without you when he had a chance to change it, you know? And you,” Morgan swallows. She can't look at Peter. “You couldn't live in a world without him. Because you thought it was your fault he was dead.” They're silent for a moment. “I was still a child, then. I couldn't understand it. But you left me a letter and I found it later and I knew I had to find a way.”
She doesn't realise she's crying before Peter takes her hand and her breath hitches. She turns to look at him.
“I'm sorry,” he says softly. This is the brother she knows, Morgan thinks. Apologising for something he hasn't even done.
“I didn't do it for the world,” Morgan confesses. “I was selfish. I did it for myself.”
“It's okay,” Peter whispers. He gives her a crooked smile. “You kind of saved the world all the same.”
She gives him a watery smile and then she's sobbing uncontrollably and he's hugging her tight because… he knows. Morgan knows he knows.
They don't talk about the future — her past — after that.
Morgan asks for her arc reactor back when she’s discharged. Tony gives it to her begrudgingly. She knows he’s tried to crack it but couldn’t get through the biometric locks. Morgan swipes through them. FRIDAY's talking before she can greet her.
“Morgan, there is no way you should be alive, the energy readings —” Her voice is frantic.
“I know,” Morgan interrupts.
“What happened?” she asks, softer.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Morgan tells her. She looks at Tony, who looks a little green around the gills. She knows they were a little touch-and-go back there.
“Can you tell me about those energy readings?” he asks, and then: “And scan now Morgan while you're at it.”
“Good to hear your voice, Boss,” FRIDAY chirps. “Coming right up.”
Morgan sets the arc reactor down on the table between them. FRIDAY opens a hologram projection of her scans during the fight and now.
“They're
literally off the charts,” Tony says quietly. “But right now you're about as radioactive as Peter. Well, that's good to know. Probably should've considered it before.”
“Wait, Peter's radioactive?”
Tony ignores her question. “So, tell me. What year is it, FRI?”
“Do you have a concussion? Or maybe you need a psych evaluation. I can call Dr. Cho for you, Boss.”
“FRI.”
“Currently it is 2023,” FRIDAY says. There’s a beat of silence like she’s hesitating. Morgan knows she’s not happy with her. “Morgan and I come from September 2037.”
“Thanks, FRIDAY.”
“Always, Boss.”
Happy interrupts them and saves Morgan from an awkward conversation about her age and life choices. He walks in and for a split second, Morgan forgets this isn't her Uncle Happy. She's running before she can think and crashes into him.
“Hi, kid,” Happy says, clearly confused. “Good to see you up and running.”
Morgan takes a quick step back. “I'm sorry,” she mumbles and then there's this arm she
still can't feel — and probably never will — rubbing her neck. Good to know it's capable of unconscious nervous tics, Morgan thinks. Fucking creepy, though.
“It's okay,” Happy offers her a smile. “Tony and Pep told me about you. Quite a journey, huh?”
Morgan tries her best to return the smile but it feels weak. They stand there for a while quietly, looking at each other. Morgan doesn't know what to say.
“So, let's get to the lakehouse, what do you say? We can get some cheeseburgers on the way.”
But it seems like Happy knows the right words. He is her Uncle Happy, after all.
It's a bit daunting, the thought of meeting
yourself as a child. But, Morgan tries to remind herself, this isn't her. This is a child who will grow up with two loving,
living parents and a doting big brother and now Morgan is going to be there for her as well.
To be perfectly honest, she didn't plan for this. She didn't plan on surviving. It doesn't mean that she was planning on dying, 'what comes after' just never was a priority. It wasn't even on her list. Now every step forward scares her.
The lakehouse comes into view and her breath catches. It's been so long since she was here. Pepper is standing on the porch and next to her, sitting on the stairs and looking bored… Morgan. Her little counterpart. And her little sister, she guesses.
The girl looks up as she hears the car and her face lights up with a smile. Happy parks the car in front of the house and little Morgan's running to them before they can get out.
She opens the door and stands up, looking at this child that looks like she's going to vibrate out of her skin. Morgan can't remember ever being this tiny.
“Hi! You're Morgan!”
Morgan laughs. “Yeah, I am.”
“I'm Morgan, too!”
“I know.”
“This is so cool,” the girl tells her. “Did you really come from the future?”
They walk in, little Morgan asking about the future — mostly harmless stuff about TV shows and science.
“We need to come up with new names!” she enthuses as they sit on the sofa together.
“How about Morgan 1 and Morgan 2?” Tony grins, settling on the armchair. Morgan doesn't see it but she can feel mom rolling her eyes.
“Daddy calls me Maguna,” little Morgan says, completely ignoring Tony. Morgan doesn't tell her that he used to call her that, too. Because thinking about it hurts too much. Because he's alive, right now, but just a few nights ago
he wasn't. And Morgan hasn't been called Maguna since she was five years old. “You can be Mo!” little Morgan tells her, blissfully unaware of Morgan's inner crisis.
She grins at her. “That sounds perfect.”
“I really like your arm! Can I touch it?” little Morgan asks, already reaching for it. Morgan brings it closer for her to inspect and she runs her little fingers over the bright veins, giggling. “It tickles!”
After a good few minutes of poking and prodding, little Morgan looks at her seriously. “Can we watch Lion King?”
Morgan looks up at Tony, who shrugs. “Haven't we watched it enough?” he asks.
“I really like it when you sing Hakuna Matata, though,” little Morgan tells him. Tony sighs theatrically and gets up from his chair to put the movie on. For a second Morgan wonders why he didn't just ask FRIDAY, but then he sits next to her on the couch and throws his arm on the backrest and she's happy she didn't question it.
“I'll get dinner ready,” Pepper says and presses a kiss to Tony's hair on her way to the kitchen. “I hope you still like lasagna, Mo.”
Morgan doesn't cry. She gets a tiny bit closer to her dad before telling her, “Yeah. I love lasagna.” If her voice is watery, no one mentions it.
And when her dad sings Hakuna Matata, she relaxes into it. Lets herself believe in it.
It means no worries for the rest of your days.
