Epilogue

You blink away the tiredness in your eyes. Pepper's call had been unexpected and removed you from your rather warm bed. Still, it was Pepper and you wouldn't refuse a call from her. So now you were returning to your bed, hoping the other occupant would still be asleep.

No luck.

The sheet hides May Parker's rather exquisite assets. "Who was that?" she asks tiredly.

"It's not important." You slide into the bed. "Pepper," you add.

May rests her arms on her raised knees, head tilted and hair flowing down one side of her neck. She looks beautiful, and you remind yourself how lucky you are to have her. And the kid, even when he was being a hyperactive teenager with more energy than anyone had a right to. They were... family, of a sort and you wouldn't trade them for anything.

"Rhodey's my best friend," you say, eyes closed and knowing May wouldn't allow you to make light of the situation. "But so is Pepper. It took me a while to realise that even though we argued all the time and she had to make sure I wasn't a complete idiot… well, somewhere along the line she became my other best friend. I don't know when it became love but it did. I still love her," you admit.

A warm hand comes to rest on your chest, lithe fingers tracing a circle where your arc reactor used to reside. Were you a cat, you would probably be purring. Everything about her made you feel better from her unconscious grace to every kind word and her infinite patience with your antics.

"We can't help who we love," she says after a period of silence. "But we can choose how we love them."

You place your hand on hers and look her straight in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." Then she chuckles. "You know, Chris Rock said that's the most romantic thing a man can say."

"That man is a genius. Not as smart as me, of course, but still close."

Sometime later, your bodies are tangled together, a sheen of sweat covering your face. She's using you as a pillow and you stroke her hair absently, enjoying how it seems to never get tangled no matter what you do.

"Why did you give Peter that job?"

You look at her oddly. Over a month had passed and she hadn't asked once. Until now. "Because he reminds me of me at that age. Maybe a lot less confident but just as smart. Just as stupid. Looking in a mirror is a weird experience."

"He's doing well, isn't he?"

"Both the Vision and Hank think so," you say. "And I trust their judgement. You know, he's designed a series of construction materials and protective clothing decades ahead of the competition. In a year or two, after Hank's bored of working again, I'm hoping he'll be able to run it."

"Well, so long as he's happy and still doing his spider gig, I think I'm happy."

You raise a brow. "Oh, so I don't make you happy."

She hits you lightly against the arm. "You know you do."

The lab—even though it's grown massively to include another two buildings nearby—is just as busy as you left it sometime ago. The front of the first floor has wide windows showing your public developments, those that were already on the market or about to be. The emissionless vehicle is one of your favourites, running on a special model of the arc reactor.

You enter, greeting people absently as you head to where the real magic happens. Behind closed doors. You wave to the Vision who's overseeing the assembly the outer hull of what Peter affectionately called the Starkbird—a reusable shuttle that would privatise the final frontier. Tests had been promising and you were hoping to conduct the pilot run next month. You smirk and decide to call Elon later today. Gloat a bit. Besides, he was taking way too long.

Peter's saying something rapidly to a group of scientists twice his age, waving his arms in every direction eagerly. They listen attentively despite the age disparity.

"He's doing well." You look to Hank Pym who's suddenly standing beside you. "Where the hell did you find the wunderkind? We wouldn't be half as far with anything without him."

"Queens."

"He's also managing his other job well." You wonder how long it took Hank to connect the dots. "Kid should take a break. Let the other guys deal with things for a bit."

You nod. "Maybe I should go visit Daredevil. He sounds like a swell guy for a lawyer."

"He tries," Hank agrees. "I still don't know how you did it."

"What?"

Hank looks at you as if you're an idiot. "The amendment."

"Oh, that." You wave it away as if it wasn't an achievement. "Lots of money, public trust and a mix of demagoguery and logical rationales."

"The move was a brilliant one," Hank admits. "And now I have to make sure our Wakandan attaché doesn't decide to pull out another damned advancement just to show us up."

You nod. "We'll get there in time."

"It had best be before I die. I'm growing too old for this shit."

You chuckle and watch him go off. Then, you head to Peter who is now free and looking over schematics for something. You read through the basics and frown.

"Kid, you really need a break."

You don't have to look at him to know he's rolling his eyes. You also wonder why on earth someone let him get away with a suit that shade of grey—it looked like something your father would wear. It was time for Peter to meet your personal tailor. He would argue, not wanting any more of your 'charity' as he called it. Sadly, you could bully him.

"How's about Fiji?" you suggest. Peter shakes his head. "Peter, just take a week off. Wherever you want." Peter ignores you. "Is this about the proposal?"

The kid turns lightning fast, looking both parts irate and exhausted. You can see the bags under his eyes. "Of course it is," he says loudly. "I can't even visit most of my old friends because of it."

You shrug. "You'll get cooler ones."

"I don't want cooler ones. Hank and the Vision are cool enough for me."

You frown but understand where he's coming from. You place a hand on his shoulder. "If you're genuinely upset, I'll call it off."

Peter looks down, chewing his lip. "I haven't seen her this happy in a long time," he says. "But it's still weird. She's like five years older than you."

You chuckle deeply. "You'll understand when you're older," you say. "Now Fiji. You, me, Natasha, the Bartons, May and that girl—the blonde one…"

"Gwen," he fills in for you.

"And Rhodey since I can't leave him behind again. Trust me, it'll be super fun."

He frowns and sighs. "So long as you two have a room very far away from me."

"Done."

Author's Note:

Civil War was one of the best movies I have ever watched. I started this on the 1st of May, the same day I watched it and I've been writing furiously since. It was so good that I watched it again mid-week.

I hope you enjoyed this. I certainly did.