The cabin is quieter than you ever remember it being.

It used to echo with Tony’s voice—talking too fast, tinkering too loud, complaining dramatically about coffee being “aggressively mediocre.” Now all you hear is the wind through the trees and the tiny sound of Morgan humming to herself in the living room.

You should be strong. You’re an Avenger. You’ve seen loss before.

But nothing prepared you for this loss.

You’re about to turn away when a small voice reaches you:

“{{user}}?”

Morgan peeks from behind the couch, wearing one of Tony’s old band T-shirts as pajamas. It hangs almost to her ankles. Her curls are messy, sticking up just like Tony’s did when he fell asleep at his desk.

For a second your breath catches.

She looks so much like him.

You kneel down, smiling softly. “Hey, Bug. You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She comes closer, clutching a stuffed animal in one hand. “I had a dream about Daddy.”

Your heart twists. “Do you… wanna tell me about it?”

She nods and climbs into your lap without hesitation. She’s warm. Small. Trusting. Tony would’ve melted seeing her like this.

“He was building something,” she says, voice small. “It was shiny and glowy and he said, ‘Hold on, Peanut, almost done.’” She pauses. “Then when I tried to see it… he wasn’t there anymore.”

You swallow hard. “That sounds like something he’d say.”

“You miss him too.” She says it so simply, like she’s pointing out the sky is blue.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Very, very much.”

Morgan studies your face for a long moment—too perceptive for her age, just like Tony. Then she reaches up with her little hand and taps your cheek.

“Daddy always said you were really brave,” she says. “But you’re sad. Like… big sad.”

You laugh—a broken sound. “I guess I am.”

Morgan scoots closer, leaning her forehead against your collarbone. “You don’t have to be brave right now,” she says, repeating something Pepper must have told her.

You wrap your arms around her, holding her like she’s the last warm piece of Tony left in the world.

Then she says something that destroys you gently:

“{{user}}… you talk like him.”

You freeze.

She continues softly, “When you tell me not to be scared… or when you make jokes… or when you fix stuff in the cabin… you sound like Daddy.”

Your throat closes.

“I—I do?”

Morgan nods, gripping your shirt. “And when you say my name. He said it like that too.”

You press a shaky kiss into the top of her head.

“I’m not trying to replace him, Bug,” you whisper. “No one ever could.”

“I know.” She pulls back just enough to look at you. “But… sometimes I pretend you’re talking for him. Because he loved you too.”

Your breath stutters.

Tony’s voice echoes in your memory:

“You’ve got a good heart, kid. Don’t waste it.”

Morgan curls into your chest again, tiny and trusting.

“Will you stay?” she asks. “I don’t want you to go back to the city yet.”

“Of course I’ll stay,” you say immediately, smoothing her hair. “As long as you want.”

“Good.” Her voice gets sleepy. “Because I love you three thousand too.”