#banging pots and pans: hurt/COMFORT fic hurt/COMFORT fic dON'T FORGET THE COMFORT

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #129

In an AU where everything is the same except Tony survived the snap in Endgame, MJ and Ned are both very aware that something is up with their memories. Huge, overlapping chunks of their lives are gone. And Spider-Man has something to do with it.

The only public figure Spider-Man has ever been closely associated with is Tony Stark. In need of answers, and not the types to just let something like this go, the kids hack and heist their way somehow onto Tony Stark's secret lake house property. It's weird that no alarms go off when they get close, but they manage it. They're about to knock, when Tony Stark, savior of the universe, opens the door.

He does not look great. Aside from the general post-battle healing and the fact that they have literally caught him at home, there's just something...off. It doesn't take long for them to realize that it's the same thing that's off with them, too.

Something important has been taken from all of their lives. Someone.

After Tony calms down from his initial freak-out, MJ and Ned (though mostly MJ) manage to convince him pretty quickly. The fact that FRIDAY never alarmed because they're in her system already is a huge point to their side. 

And, the fact that he agrees with them. He survived the battle, everything should be fine. But something is so, very wrong. He's grieving someone he doesn't even know.

So, a new team is born. A trio united to find their shared missing person, the eraser mark in their memories none of them can bear to lose, all for different reasons.

They don't have much to go on, but Tony agrees with them on one thing: Spider-Man is involved somehow. And that's a good place to start.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Bit of a Stretch

Summary: Edge has a few questions for Stretch after his de-aging incident. Stretch has a few questions of his own. Answers are the only thing that seem to be in short supply.

Tags:  Pre-Spicyhoney, Pre-Relationship, De-Aged, Possible Implied Past Child Abuse (nothing explicitly shown), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: This is a direct sequel to ‘Keeping Elastic’. 

Apparently I like to write de-aged fic when I am hungover. I’m rolling with it. 

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

i need to talk to u. w/out my bro

Edge looked at the text with a frown, reluctantly curious. It had been nearly a week since Stretch’s childish little incident, and he hadn’t seen him since Undyne had returned to take him away. Presumably she hadn’t had any difficulties returning him to his normal state or not that Edge heard from his brother.

So why did Stretch want to speak to him now?

Only one way to find out. Edge replied to the text, Come to Underfell.

In less than a minute, there was a pop of teleportation and Stretch was in his living room, looking, well, exactly as he was supposed to. In an oversized orange hoodie, his hands tucked into the pocket, overtop track pants and untied sneakers with the laces damp from dragging in the snow. What wasn’t normal was his tight expression and before he could speak, Edge held up a hand.

“Not here. Follow me.”

Almost, Stretch protested, his teeth parting. He seemed to rethink it and shrugged, following after Edge as he led them outside. The walk through Snowdin was brief and Stretch didn’t flinch, but Edge saw him twitch occasionally. He understood; it was strange to see mirror images of Monster you knew, ghosts of what someone could be.

He led Stretch out of town, past the bridge and to where the first of the traps were. Or last, depending on the direction of the travel. Edge pointed out a tree on the other side where a red light attached to the trunk was flashing. “Shortcut us over there.”

“you hate shortcutting.” It was the first thing Stretch said since he arrived and he sounded normal enough, that faint, sardonic note in his smoke-husky voice.

“I do but it’ll take us past the trap without me having to recalibrate it.” A moment of queasiness was worth sparing an hour of effort.

His vision blurred and when it cleared, they were on the other side. It was slightly smoother than one of his brother’s shortcuts and Edge wondered sourly if Stretch was better at it or if Red was simply an asshole. Either option was possible. In any case, he only had to lean against the tree for a moment, waiting for his queasiness to ease before they walked on. Not far away was a sentry post and Edge wrinkled his nose at the smell of burnt dog biscuits, making a note to discuss the issue with Doggo before his next shift.

When Stretch saw they were stopping, he ignored the chair and instead hopped up on the counter, long legs dangling. “why do you want to talk all the way out here? if you didn’t want to chat in the house, why not waterfall or something?”

“Waterfall is out of my territory and you wanted somewhere away from your brother,” Edge preferred to remain standing, crossing his arms over his chest and regarding his alternate evenly. “Sans…Red is the only person who does sentry duty in multiple areas because he can shortcut. He’s in Hotland right now so we are alone.”

And Doggo’s post was one of the few places Red hadn’t been able to place his listening devices. The other sentry was far too attuned to any unusual noises and was quick to find them. It was the closest Edge could come to a guarantee that Red wouldn’t be listening in, but there was no need to tell Stretch that. “Now, you wanted to talk.”

Instead of answering, Stretch lit a cigarette and normally Edge would snarl about him fouling the air around them. Today, he would grudgingly admit Stretch looked like he needed it. There was a faint, visible tremor in his hands and his eye lights darted around, almost hunted. Perhaps that could be chalked up to simply being in Underfell, but Edge didn’t think so.

He waited, clinging to patience while Stretch smoked until he finally threw down the butt and let it wink out in the snow.

“what happened when i was little?” Stretch asked abruptly. “blue won’t talk to me about it. he doesn’t not talk to me, okay, he tells me everything, but this he’s talking around and i don’t like that.” He fidgeted with his lighter, flicking it and letting the flame waver a moment before snapping it closed. “what he did say was you were there for a while and you helped out. so what gives? why is my bro so upset that i spent a few hours at knee high?”

Edge studied him. It seemed Blue wasn’t interested in solving the mystery of his brother’s past, whether in an attempt to protect him or to simply forget the entire incident, Edge wasn’t sure. But Edge saw no reason to hide from truths, even painful ones.

“Whenever you saw him, you cried,” Edge told him flatly. “It helped a little when he changed his clothes, but you still refused to let him hold you. you spent most of the day with me until Undyne returned for you.”

He’d actually spent a better part of it sitting on Edge’s lap on the floor, happily banging together pots and pans, and stacking measuring cups, but Edge saw no reason to bring that up. Blue had been deemed reluctantly acceptable when he was no longer in his uniform, but it seemed little Rus was unwilling to forgive him for having worn it before. Edge suspected it was a very good thing he’d changed before coming to Underswap or the child might well have spent the entire day behind the sofa.

To his surprise, Stretch went oddly pale, the color his magic lent to his bones fading, leaving him bone-white, and his eye lights shrank to pin pricks. He looked away, letting out a weak laugh.

“is that all?” He fumbled out another cigarette and lit it, exhaling with, “guess i'd be upset if kids cried whenever they saw my face, too.”

“I'm sure you would, but it wasn't kids, it was his brother,” Edge said slowly. “Why is that? Why would you be upset at seeing your brother?”

“beats me.” It sounded like a lie, thin and wrong. Stretch shrugged and it was somehow nervous, uncomfortable. “i don't remember much when i was little like that. hell, i don’t really remember much before i was a teenager. blue was barely out of diapers, so to speak, it's not like i knew him when i was a kid.”

“Someone who looked like him, then,” Edge pressed relentlessly.

“i...don't know,” Stretch said falteringly, “how would i know? it’s not like i remember being little either time, how would i…i don’t…”

He was shaking, his gaze wide and oddly vacant, and his cigarette fell from his limp fingers, hissing out in the snow. He looked as if he was close to fainting, all from a few simple questions.

"Put your head down," Edge told him brusquely. He moved to stand in front of him, forcing him to lean over when he didn't move.

"i don't remember," Stretch whispered, almost inaudibly, "i…i don't…"

"Easy, you're all right," Edge told him softly, the same as he had when he'd been small enough to cradle in his arms. He made the attempt now, warily sliding an arm around him, and was forced to catch him when Stretch collapsed against him, almost sliding from his perch.

Comforting him as a child had been almost a reflex, all too easy, and Edge found it was much same as an adult. The difference was Stretch didn’t cry. He trembled in Edge’s arms, the entirety of his surprisingly light weight leaning against him.

He was mumbling beneath his breath almost too quietly to hear, and Edge strained to catch the words.

There was little enough to hear, nothing more than the same words, over and over. “he’s gone, he’s gone.”

“He’s gone,” Edge agreed softly, although he had no clue who ‘he’ was. A wracking shudder went through him and abruptly Edge was reminded of being awoken by one of his brother’s rare nightmares. If they were rare. Red would never have allowed this sort of comfort, but somehow, it was easy enough to offer to Stretch, with his layer of sarcasm peeled away, leaving this frail vulnerability behind. Edge shifted, pulling him in close enough to rub his back, murmuring against his auditory canal, “He’s gone, you’re safe.”

It seemed to help. Slowly, the shivering eased. It took longer for Stretch to pull away, scrubbing against his face with a sleeve as though to clean away tears he hadn’t shed.

“sorry,” he said stiffly. “i…sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Edge told him, softly. There were more mysteries now than he’d started with and it was unlikely he’d be getting answers to them. Already he could see the walls falling back into place, the brief vulnerability he’d never suspected existed being tucked back away. The biggest mystery being left behind was ‘who’.

Whoever they were, they were someone a child was desperately afraid of, enough so that trying to remember him as an adult was nearly enough to cause a panic attack. One that had brought a too-quiet, frightened child to…well. To Stretch. He remembered that tiny baby bones, his sweet laughter as he played…his teary fear whenever his brother came too close…

Gone, Stretch had said, and that was a good thing or Edge might well have more LV for the others to disapprove of.

“i’m just…thanks, then, i guess,” Stretch laughed uncomfortably. Sitting on the ledge as he was, he couldn’t really withdraw from Edge, and though he shifted as if he wanted to, Edge didn’t remove his steadying hands. Not yet. “not sure where all that shit came from, but thanks for not ditching me to knock my skull against a tree.”

That sent a sharp throb through his soul. He’d meant it as a joke, Edge knew, but there was no humor in him when he quietly told Stretch, “I would never leave you alone like that.”

He wilted, whatever pride he’d been shoring himself up with was failing, and the way he leaned into Edge’s hands seemed somehow reluctant and yearning. That vulnerability, not yet hidden away, was soft in his voice as he said, “why do you even care?”

“Despite what you seem to think, I’m not soulless.”

Stretch huffed softly and his breath was harsh with cigarettes, sweet with magic. “i don’t think you’re soulless.”

“No, only that I replaced it with a chunk of coal.”

“you said it, not me.”

He’d never seen Stretch smile like that or if he had, it certainly hadn’t been directed at him. Stretch was an irritant, smirking and smoking and…his smiles weren’t supposed to be soft and sweet, for once not mocking but instead almost inviting him to share the joke and—

“We should get back,” Edge said brusquely, finally stepping back, and he ignored the sharp, internal twinge when that smile faded.

“yeah, i should get home.” Stretch stumbled as he hopped down, tripping over one of those stupidly untied laces and it was a reflex to steady him, pulling him back up. It left him with his face inches from Edge’s, his sockets wide. He took a step back and Edge let him, his hands reluctantly letting go. “um, yeah, i really have to go.”

He vanished without another word, teleporting away and leaving Edge standing with his own confusion in the snow.

Only to realize that Stretch had left him on the other side of the traps. An hour ago, that would have irritated him, but now Edge was almost grateful.

It would take hours for him to make his way back home and that was fine. He could use something to do.

-fin