Peter's head bows down in sorrow at his fallen hero, his fallen father figure, my father Tony Stark. Next to say goodbye is mum. Her goodbye us short but sweet just like she knows dad would want her to. Peter is currently sobbing against uncle Steve at the minute as mum stands with a brave face, Doctor Strange's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey d-dad." I gulp as my dad gives me a weak smile, "You didn't have to give your today for our tomorrow but I thank you." I let out a sob, "Thank you and I'll always remember you. I can't wait to meet Morgan and I'll make sure she will always remember you." My dad puts his hand on my cheek, gently wiping away my tear, "You've done so much for us all." I sigh for a silent moment, "Say hi to auntie Nat for us, for me. I love you three thousand."

"L-love you three thousand." Dad replies breathlessly.

It's then when my father takes his last breath.

Gently I close his eyelids. A moment of sheer silence passes before I erupt in sobs again. I hug his body muttering how he can't be dead, not my dad. My selfless dad who is my best friend alongside Peter. I feel warm hands trying to prise me off my dad.

"Y/n, please let go. We're going on our knees bowing to show respect; please join us." Uncle Steve says quietly.

I nod still choking on sobs and utter panic. I follow uncle Steve's lead with all the other Avengers and warriors following suit. Once two minutes of silence and respect has been paid I start to stagger away from the group, from my beloved father's corpse.

"G-go after her man, she nee-eds you." Uncle Clint stutters over his words and tears.

That's when I feel his gloved hands on my waist of my suit. Peter's face is nuzzling into mine and my neck. A gesture that always both calms and mellows me. Peter's trying not to cry more, to shake with depressed sobs of sorrow and mourning.

"It's okay to cry too you know." I whisper softly.

I turn around my best friend and he pulls me into a tight bone-crushing embrace. Running my armoured hand through his soft brown locks I feel Peter do the same to my hair.

"I-I'm so-sorry. I shouldn't be cry-i-ing. I should be putting on a brave face and being there for y-you." Peter says voice muffled as his head is tucked in my hair and neck.

"He was just as much my dad as he was your's." I murmur back comfortingly not letting go of Peter.

I haven't seen my dad in five years, just like Peter here. Speaking of the devil he now places a long kiss to my forehead. Though this time there is no remarks from my dad saying: 'That's too long to be just friends'. To which mum would reply: 'Shut up, it's their thing. I think it's sweet. Just because they're not officially together doesn't mean that they can't still be intimate dumbass'. Followed by a deep chuckle from both mum and dad.