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"And I am Iron Man.”
The moment the words left his lips, he knew he was going to die. His only regret is leaving Peter and Morgan, but he had to, or there wouldn’t be a world with them in it. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes isn’t Pepper— no, he’s looking past her, at the one true love of his life. The one he’d invented time travel for. Peter.
The last thing he sees is red-rimmed brown eyes. The last thing he really hears is his sobs. The feeling he holds onto is the feeling of Peter’s hands on him. The last thing he thinks is, I’m sorry, sweetheart.
And then suddenly everything is green.
“Tony Stark.”
Tony whips around, and his jaw drops. “Loki?”
The trickster god chuckles. He’s sitting on a throne, every part of him surrounded by coiling tendrils of flickering green energy. He looks tired, older, more like an ancient god and less like a temper tantrum-throwing teenager.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” he says, heart clenching with panic.
“As are you,” he acknowledges. “In a way, my condition is your doing. When I escaped with the tesseract after you traveled back in time, it set me on a new path. But that’s not why you’re here.”
“What is going on?” he asks, panicked, not expecting a straight answer.
“Your work in this timeline is not done,” he says simply. “You are needed, and so I am putting you back.”
Hope rises in Tony’s heart. “But the snap—“
“Forgive me. Your body is not an option,” he says. “You’ll need a new one.”
“I’m sorry, are you going to reincarnate me?”
“Not exactly, no, that would take too long. There’s a young man on an operating table, about to die of a heart surgery gone wrong. The fate of his soul is sealed, but his body can be used for this purpose. Conveniently, his name is also Tony.”
“Do I get a say in this?” he huffs.
Loki smirks, the familiar mischief in his eyes sparkling. “Not really, but I think by the end of this, you’ll be thanking me.”
“Thank—“
Whoosh.
Beep. Beep.
Tony knows that noise. He hates that noise, but the hatred seems even stronger than it used to. Hospital. Monitors. What happened?
Beep Beep Beep.
“Tony?”
A woman’s voice. Not Pepper’s. Not even Nat’s. Wait, Nat is gone.
Beep beep beep.
“Tony? Son? Come on, kid. Wake up.”
Son?
Beep beep beep beep
Tony forces his eyes to open, squinting at the bright white lights above him. He winces at the stimulation, his whole body feeling heavy. It’s like he’s been hit by a truck. “What-what-“
“Easy, sweetheart,” the woman says. He looks to his left to see a nice-looking lady with brown hair pulled into a ponytail and glasses. “Take it slow. They said you’d be disoriented.”
“Do you want a drink?” the man asks. He’s beside her, with brown hair that’s greying at the temples, tan skin, and a mustache.
Somehow, he knows they’re his parents, even if the details are fuzzy, but that doesn’t make any sense. This isn’t Howard and Maria. Where is he? When is he?
The man— his dad? — brings a straw to his lips and Tony takes a big sip, feeling the sandpaper texture of his throat dissipate. His head feels a little clearer, and he looks down at himself to try to figure out what’s going on. Loki had said something— fuck. Right. He’s in some poor kid’s body. And he has loving parents, that’s gonna be a trip.
“What happened?” he asks, figuring it’s not an abnormal question.
“Well, uh,” the woman sighs. Isabella. That’s her name, he remembers, the memory floating in like a whisper in his mind. “You gave us a scare, sweetheart. Almost didn’t make it.”
“Oh,” he says softly. The kid didn’t make it. Loki had just stuck Tony in his body instead.
“But once they got over that little speed bump, it was smooth sailing,” the man adds with an assuring smile. Antonio, maybe? Tony must be named after him. “Doctors said it was a miracle. It went better than they hoped for.”
“Really?” he asks softly.
“Really. Once you heal, you shouldn’t have any more issues,” Isabella says, a touch of excitement in her voice. “Full recovery. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Wow,” he whispers, looking down at his chest. “Y-yeah. It is.”
“Gia is in the waiting room. She wants to see you,” Isabella says softly. “Can she come in?”
For a brief second, Tony panics that Gia is his girlfriend, but then the memories come through, and he realizes she’s his sister. He has a sister now. The thought is overwhelming. All of this is overwhelming. Are they even in New York?
“Maybe let’s wait until the nurse comes in,” Antonio says, rubbing his wife’s back. “It’s past dinner time, and they said he could eat after he woke up. Why don’t you two go grab us something to eat?”
“Okay, sure,” she smiles. Then she bends down and kisses Tony’s forehead. “Love you, sweetheart. See you in a bit.”
“L-love you, too, mom,” he stammers out, the words falling off his lips naturally.
Once she’s gone, Antonio pulls up a chair and sits down, grabbing Tony’s hand and looking at him intently. “Son, it’s okay if you’re disoriented. You can ask me anything. I won’t judge or worry. They said you might have a little bit of memory issues from being under anesthesia."
Tony sighs slightly with relief, grateful for the out. “Where are we?” he questions.
“We’re at Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan."
Thank god. “And- and you’re my dad? Antonio?”
“That’s right.”
“And Isabella is my mom, and Gia is my little sister?”
“Correct,” he smiles. “See? You got it. What else?”
“What day is it?” he whispers.
A flicker of concern flashes in his eyes. “What day do you think it is?”
Tony bites down on his lower lip. It was October seventh when they got attacked— when he died. Surely snapping everyone back brought about chaos that delayed surgeries, and surely Loki couldn’t have put him in the timeline before he died, right? Maybe it had to be at the exact moment?
“It’s October?” he starts with, and Antonio relaxes slightly, nodding. “Like the seventh or something?”
“It’s the twelfth,” he smiles. “You were supposed to have your surgery on the seventh, so I don’t blame you for that one. Just a little mix-up.”
“Yeah,” he says tightly.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he soothes, and it’s so weird to have a father figure treat him kindly. “You just woke up, it’s okay.”
“Okay,” he whispers. “Everything feels… not real.”
“Well, it is,” he insists, squeezing Tony’s hand. “You’re here, and you’re alive, and I for one am very happy about that.”
The words are so warm, so genuine, and so not what he’s used to that it makes his eyes prickle with tears. Antonio makes a cooing noise, and he moves to sit down in the small space on the bed. Then he wraps his arm around Tony and pulls him in close, kissing the top of his head.
“It’s alright, mijo,” he murmurs. “You can cry, it’s okay.”
Tony does cry, embarrassingly enough. It’s like the weight of every trauma in his life is suddenly bearing down on him, and his daddy issues stupidly rise to the surface. He still has this kid’s memories, and he knows that his dad- his new dad- is always like this. Supportive, affectionate, never afraid to show weakness. It’s so unlike what Tony grew up with that he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Antonio holds him and soothes him until he calms down. A few minutes later, the nurse comes in and checks everything over. She’s also slightly concerned about the date thing, but when Tony can relay other relevant facts and information (Like the fact that he’s sixteen, which, wow, that’s weird), it seems to assuage the fears. A mix-up caused by the date change and his brain not connecting the dots. That’s all.
The doctor comes in after that, and unfortunately, it’s a spiel Tony has heard before. He’ll be in the hospital for a few days, and then it’s lots of rest and taking it slow. No greasy food for a month and limit it for the rest of his life. Start a walking exercise routine and avoid heavy lifting. All things that Tony had ignored the first time around. Now he has parents to make sure he follows the rules, and that’s… not an unwelcome concept.
When Isabella comes back carrying take-out bags, she’s followed by a young girl no older than thirteen. Gia. She looks like an older version of Morgan, and that makes Tony want to cry all over again. He’s never going to see his little girl again, is he? Maybe he will, but it’ll never be the same.
“Tony!” Gia cries, rushing over and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Gia! Be careful!”
“She’s fine, Mom,” he murmurs, hugging her tightly. He doesn’t think about how easy it is to slip into his place in this little family. “Hi, cattivella.”
“Don’t you cattivella me! You’re the one who almost died!” she chastises.
He laughs softly, kissing her temple. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, alright?”
“Alright,” she grumbles.
They’d brought simple food from one of the hospital cafes, sandwiches and salads. Tony doesn’t complain. It’s good, and he’s hungry. Also, this is what he’s supposed to be eating for his recovery, so he’s not surprised.
After that, it’s just… normal. Weirdly normal. The previous inhabitant had a good rapport with his family, and it shows. They joke and laugh, and Tony pushes down the guilt over not actually being their son. If he’s any different, they’re probably chalking it up to the surgery. He doesn’t get a lot more information about what’s gone on in the world since he died, but he supposes he has time to figure it out.
When visiting hours are over, one parent is allowed to stay with him, and it’s Antonio. He’s secretly glad for it, because Isabella is a bit smothering. It’s sweet, but he needs room to breathe. He bids goodnight to his new mom and sister, and then a cell phone is placed in his hands by his dad.
“Figured you’d be missing it,” Antonio winks before retreating to the couch and giving him space.
The first thing he does is open the camera. He tries not to gasp in surprise when he’s met with a shockingly familiar image. He looks like himself when he was sixteen. A little different, but close enough that he’s not looking at a stranger. Close enough to make him wonder if his new body was a kid he didn’t know about, but that idea is squashed by the fact that Isabella doesn’t look familiar. Though… sixteen years ago, he still had drunken one-night stands where he didn’t remember much. Maybe he should look into that.
After that, he searches for himself. His old self. There hasn’t been a funeral yet, not one that the public knows about anyway, and it makes his stomach churn. He wonders where they’ll have it. The lake, maybe?
Thinking about his funeral only makes him think about Peter. He wants to find him, however foolish it may be. At this age, he has a chance, and he’s going to use it. He tries to look Peter up on social media, but he’s been gone for the last five years. It’s a ghost land.
The only thing he can’t figure out is where the hell he goes to school, or if his body’s previous self was smart. Becoming a genius post-operation wasn’t going to look good, and Tony doesn’t want to raise too many alarm bells. But he’s also him, and he’s going to need some sort of outlet to get through a year of high school and college all over again.
His eyelids finally feel heavy, and he closes the phone, setting it to the side. The room is already dark, and Antonio is snoring softly on the couch. The sound is slightly soothing, reminding him of the way Happy used to snore when he crashed on the sofa to be a good bodyguard. He uses the remote to lower the hospital bed down and closes his eyes, letting himself find whatever sleep he can.