Morgan wanted to play outside again after lunch, so everyone went out, and they played different games, Morgan's favorite being a combination of tag and hide and go seek. She eventually got tired, even though she wouldn't admit it, and Grace persuaded her to go inside and play a board game instead. She picked Connect Four, as she was pretty good at it.

Once she got bored of that, she decided she was going to go upstairs and play in her room by herself, and Grace didn't complain, then settling on the couch to read Northanger Abbey until dinner, which was homemade pizza.

And now that dinner is over, Tony and Grace are washing dishes in the kitchen while Pepper gets Morgan ready for bed. Grace is drying while Tony washes. He sprays a plate down with the sink hose.

However, he manages to turn the hose around and spray water up towards the ceiling, and Grace tries to shield herself as droplets hit her even though she's on Tony's left and the water is on his right. He manages to get it under control, though, even through their laughter.

"Dad!" Grace says.

"It just got away from me!" he replies, chuckling as he passes her the plate, and then dries off the counter. He moves to the floating shelves, and Grace looks over when he stops, the picture of Peter catching his eye. He pulls it off the shelf and begins wiping off the frame, and Grace smiles softly, though it aches a little.

"You still miss him?" she asks.

Tony glances over at her, then looks back at the picture fondly. "'Course I do."

"Glad I'm not the only one..." Grace trails off, going back to the dishes.

Tony continues looking at the picture, at Peter's goofy face. "He was a good kid."

Grace smirks. "And a good kisser."

"Stop!" Tony exclaims, lightly shoving her shoulder, making wrenching noises. Grace laughs for a few moments, then turns serious as the laughter fades, looking at the picture still in her dad's hand.

She sighs. "You know, Dad, I don't there's anybody in world quite like Peter Parker — in the universe, even."

Tony smiles, sets the pictures back down, though he still looks at it. He thinks of what Grace said, Pepper coming to mind. "I know what you mean."

Grace frowns. "Sometimes I don't think I'll ever get over him."

"You don't have to get over him, necessarily," Tony says, wrapping his arm around her comfortingly. "Just... move on."

"Well, I can't do that entirely. He's the first boy my age that I ever met — after Harley, I guess. And he wasn't just some boy, either..."

"Yeah..." Tony goes back to doing the dishes then, in contemplation.

"He was my..." Grace thinks for a moment "... endgame, you know?"

Tony nods, humming in response. "Mhm."

"I always pictured my future with him."

"Honestly?" Tony says. "I did too."

After a silent moment, Grace waves it all off. "Ah, well. We're on a new path now. Just have to... try to get used to it." She smiles and gestures to the stairs, referring to Morgan. "Booger up there really helps."

Tony chuckles. "Yeah, she does."

But he knows that, even if Grace is better, even if she's happier now, she's not like she was before. She was in love — the kind that could never be replicated again, the kind that may never go away, not fully, even if she'd feel better for it. The kind that never really moved on.

She misses Peter, and she probably always will, especially without another guy to come and help her fall in love again. And even if Harley weren't getting engaged to Hannah, he's still out of the question. She was right; there was no else for her. Not here.

So maybe — just maybe — it wouldn't hurt to just see. See if there was any way that time travel could work, any way it could be done. He highly doubted it, but it didn't hurt to try, right?

~~~~

He waits until Grace goes upstairs to read Morgan a bedtime story to start working. He starts by bringing in a large projection plate from the garage and putting it on the table. He works into the night with Friday, testing all his theories, trying to make it work. He takes a break, finally, drinks a glass of water, and it's then that something comes to him. He goes back to the table.

"I've got a mild inspiration," he says to Friday, who pulls up the projections. "Let me see if it checks out." He sighs. "So, I'd like to run one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time, in the shape of a Mobius strip, inverted, please."

Friday pulls it up. "Processing..."

Tony begins manipulating the projection. "Give me the eigenvalue of that particle factoring in spectral decomp. That'll take a second." He stops and takes a drink.

"Just a moment," Friday says.

Tony sighs. "And don't worry if it doesn't pan out. I'm just kinda..." he trails off, not sure what he's doing. Hoping? Becoming desperate? Trying to help his daughter? All three?

And then Friday says, "Model rendered."

She runs through it, and Tony watches, the whole thing taking a second or two, and then two words, fifteen letters, typed in a reddish-orange pop up. Two words that change everything.

'MODEL SUCCESSFUL'

Tony gasps, falling back in his chair in utter shock, tons of emotion flooding him — surprise, relief, fear, hope, worry, feelings he can't even name.

He breathes deeply, then spreads his hands. "Crap!" he says.

He did it. He actually did it.

And then, a small voice echoes behind him, "Crap!"

He turns and spots Morgan, sitting on the steps in her jammies, her little slippers on her feet and that smiling expression on her face. Tony grimaces a little, knowing Pepper probably won't be happy if she hears Morgan say that word, mild as it is. He puts a finger to his lips to quiet her, lest Pepper, who is awake, hear her.

"What are you doing up, little miss?" he whispers.

She isn't supposed to say that word, and she knows it, just from her dad's reaction. She smiles mischievously. "Crap."

"No, no, we don't say that," Tony says. "When you're older."

"As old as Grace?" Morgan asks.

Tony chuckles. "Well, she's not that old."

Morgan leans forward. "Why are you up?"

"'Cause I got some important crap going on here," Tony says, gesturing to the table and causing Morgan to look at him with a mix of incredulity and confusion, though the whole expression radiated sass, her brow familiarly raised. "What do you think?" Tony continues. "No, I got something on my mind. I got something on my mind..."

What's going to happen. If he can do it. If they can do it, and if 'they' will include Grace, if she'll want it to, though that part is already all but certain.

"Was it juice pops?" Morgan asks.

Tony chuckles lightly. "Sure was." He points at her. "That's extortion. That's a word. Great minds think alike." He stands and takes her hand, beginning to lead her to the kitchen even as he looks back at the projection. "Juice pops — exactly what was on... my mind."

In the kitchen, he flicks on the light and sits Morgan on the counter, then takes two juice pops out of the freezer, hands her one. They're homemade, of course, usually by Pepper and/or Grace as they would end up running Tony out of the kitchen half the time. He licks the juice pop, leaning on the counter in front of Morgan.

"So, why are you up?" he asks. "Did Mom and Grace not tuck you in according to standards?"

"I'm not tired," Morgan replies around the juice pop in her mouth.

Tony raises a brow. "You're not tired?"

"Nope. And I'm hungry."

"Well, now you aren't, you're eating a juice pop," Tony argues lightly.

Morgan is quiet for a moment, and Tony knows that she's thinking about something, though he can never be too sure about what; she's full of surprises. "Do you think sissy wants a juice pop?" she finally asks, of course referring to Grace.

Tony shrugs. "I don't know; is she up?"

Morgan nods. "I think so. Her light is on."

"Hmm."

"I think she's painting a pretty picture," Morgan theorizes.

Tony raises both brows. "Really? Of what?"

Morgan grins. "Me."

"Yeah, that would be a very pretty picture, wouldn't it?" Tony replies, laughing.

"I'll go get her." Morgan starts trying to get off the counter, forcing Tony to stop her and help her down so she doesn't hurt herself, though he fears she'll slip on the hardwood with the way she runs up the stairs.

Upstairs, Grace is painting a scene from Northanger Abbey, as she finished the book earlier and couldn't quite get over it. It's the scene where Catherine, young, naïve, and immature, is opening the wardrobe with the belief that it was as Tilney had merely joked — some sort of dark secret she accidentally discovered that would launch her into a terrifying, supernatural situation, just like in the novels. Grace decides to blend creepy figures into the background, to add to the imagined horror of it all.

But then there's a small knock on her door. She turns in her chair. "Come in?"

Morgan opens the door a bit, enough to be seen. She smiles, a juice pop in one hand. She grins.

Grace raises a brow. "I thought you went to bed hours ago."

"I wanted juice pops," Morgan says simply. "Do you want one?"

Grace sighs, though she smiles. "Sure," she replies, standing and wiping off her hands. She joins her sister and father downstairs and has a juice pop of her own, talking and joking as she eats it, particularly teasing Morgan, one of her favorite pastimes.

When they (mostly) finish earring, both Tony and Grace escort Morgan to bed. Tony carries her and then puts her in the bed, under the covers, which Grace pulls back.

"You done?" Tony asks, Morgan's juice pop already in hand. She nods. "Yeah?" He eats the last little bit of juice pop. "Now you are." It's then that he notices juice on her face, and he pulls his sleeve down. "Here, wipe." He gently wipes it off her face while Grace watches with a smile, sitting at the end of the bed, admiring her handy work on the wall from Morgan's fifth birthday, when she and Tony redid her room. "Good," Tony says, then putting his hand on Morgan's face and gently pushing her back onto her pillow. "That face goes there."

"Tell me a story," Morgan says.

"Was my storytelling not good enough before?" Grace asks, feigning offense.

"Yes, but I want another one."

Tony sighs, thinking. "A story... Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end."

"That is a horrible story," Morgan protests.

"Come on, that's your favorite story," Tony insists. He leans forward and kisses her forehead. "Love you tons."

Morgan smiles. "I love you three thousand." It sounds like, "free fousand," as she's struggling a bit with her th's. Grace and Tony smile.

"Wow," Tony says, amazed. "Three thousand. That's crazy." He looks at Grace. "What about you, Grace? Can you top that?"

"Hmm," she says, looking at the ceiling as if thinking. "I'd say I love you... five."

"Fi- Five?" Tony splutters. Morgan starts laughing hysterically and Tony points at her. "Hey, that's not funny. That's insulting. Five? Give me at least ten. Geez."

Tony stands as he says this, and Grace moves over, kissing Morgan's forehead too. "Love you, Morg. Go to sleep, and stay asleep this time." She pokes her stomach with the last command, and Morgan grabs her hand, laughing.

"I love you four thousand," she says to Grace. Tony gasps, just the reaction she was looking for.

"I am so offended," he says. "This is unbelievable!"

"It's inconceivable!" Morgan shouts, and Tony laughs even as he gently quiets her.

"Entirely," he says, then turning off her globe lamp. "Go to bed. Or I'll sell all your toys. Night, night."

Grace follows Tony out of the room, then heading into hers, right across the hall. Tony steps forward, leaning in her doorframe as she heads back to her easel.

"Want me to tuck you in too?" he asks.

She laughs. "No, Dad, I think I'm good."

Tony looks around, spotting the cork board, now filled with pictures of Peter and Morgan and her family. On her nightstand is a picture of Peter — the one of him on the bus, supposedly sitting next to his friend Ned, who's been mostly cropped out. Grace didn't noticing him looking, as she's already gone back to her painting, completely focused.

"Don't stay up too late," Tony says.

She hums in response. "Yeah..."

He closes the door quietly and heads back downstairs, to the living room, where Pepper is now reading.

"Not that it's a competition, but Morgan loves me three thousand."

Pepper looks up. "Does she now?"

"You were somewhere on the low six to nine hundred range," Tony brags.

Pepper raises a brow. "And where was Grace?"

At that, Tony sighs, muttering, "Four thousand."

Pepper outright laughs then, and Tony looks back over at the projection, thinking. Hardly present, he asks, "What are you reading?"

"Oh, it's just a book on composting," Pepper replies.

He's still looking at the projection. "What's new with composting?"

"Interesting science-"

He turns to her. "I figured it out. By the way." He'd told her what Nat, Steve, and Scott had come to say, after she'd asked, He told her what he told them, but then he had a bit of a change heart, and he told her that too, after washing dishes. He told her everything.

Pepper raises a brow. "And, you know, just so we're talking about the same thing-"

"Time travel," Tony confirms.

She knew that was what he was looking at, but it still shocks her. "What? Wow... That's... amazing, and... terrifying."

"That's right." He manages to sit down next to her on the couch.

She sighs and takes his hand. "We got really lucky."

"Yeah. I know."

"A lot of people didn't."

"Nope. I can't help everybody."

Pepper shakes her head. "Sorta seems like you can."

"Not if I stop," Tony replies, fear filling him. "I can put a pin in it right now — and stop."

"Tony, trying to get you to stop has been one of the few failures of my entire life." They laugh lightly at this, but quickly turn serious again.

Tony glances back at the table. "Something tells me I should put it in a lockbox and drop it at the bottom of a lake... go to bed."

Pepper thinks for a moment, knowing what this could mean, what it could do. "But would you be able to rest?"

And Tony knows. He thinks of Peter, the pictures in Grace's room. He sees her in denial, five years ago, sobbing on the grass. Broken. Her voice echoes in his head.

"He was my... endgame, you know?"

He has to do this. He has to. If not for anyone else, for her. Though, he admits, it will be for others too. For all those that they've lost. For Morgan, who's never had the chance to know them. For Pepper. For Rhodey. And Nat. And Happy. Steve. Bruce. Nebula. Even Rocket and Scott.

And for himself.

He sighs. "No. Not really."