Chapter Text
17th of August, Stark Industries
Pepper's gaze kept wandering away from her work, unruly as it locked onto the little play table she’d bought for her office months ago. Isaac was still sitting on a filebox she’d asked Patrick to drag out of the storage cupboard for this very purpose, the second chair she’d ordered still taking its time to be delivered.
Sophia sat as she always did, facing Pepper with her little boxes of crayons arranged around her to mimic Pepper’s desk. She’d dragged a little fake plant to store pens in - one of the many ‘gadgets’ inevitably left behind by companies trying to pitch their projects - out of the bin. There was a logo stamped on it somewhere to remind Pepper which one exactly, but she didn’t care to differentiate between any of them.
Still, Sophia had liked it, placing it on her ‘desk’ as a necessary prop to make it real.
Isaac sat to her left - Pepper’s right - back facing the bookcase lining her wall.
The thought of Sophia so quickly becoming ‘Sophia-and-Isaac’ was slightly baffling.
The two seemed to fit together, one barely seen without the other anymore. Though he’d started branching out, getting more used to the many new people in his life, Isaac still mostly stuck to her for comfort. And even when Pepper had waited for her to finally get annoyed by the clinging, the lack of independent attention, like any other child would have, she never did. In fact, Pepper guessed she welcomed it, though for reasons different than Isaac’s.
An email notification on her laptop distracted her from her thoughts, pulling her back to her work, and she did her best to focus once more. It was only when her inbox ran empty that the children’s words filtered back into her awareness. They were talking calmly but not hushed, not whispered but still aware that Pepper was trying to work.
“- to work,” Isaac frowned, seemingly going against what Sophia had said but Pepper hadn’t caught. “Why is it bad?”
“Because,” Sophia argued stubbornly, glaring at the paper in front of her.
Isaac, dissatisfied by that answer, continued, still stumbling over his ‘r’s. “My mommy says mornings are for family, evenings for work.” He frowned then dropped his crayon back onto the table which he seemed to have been annoyed with for a while. “I don’t want to color.”
“Why not?” Sophia stared as if personally offended by his disinterest in her favorite pastime, earlier discussion forgotten in favor of this new tragedy.
“Don’t like it. Boring.”
Pepper pulled her hands from her keyboard, leaning back in her chair as she stared at the two in wonder. She hadn’t spent much time yet with Isaac, but she’d heard from Stephen that he wasn’t much of a talker, not one to express his opinion or make demands. He’d always seemed more comfortable with Sophia, that much they knew, but it still felt like he was reaching a place where he felt more comfortable - comfortable enough to go against her. At least where adults weren’t around or weren’t presumed to be listening in. She wished Stephen and Tony could see, wondered if the progress he was making really was profound or just a distortion of her limited time spent with them.
Either way, it was nice to hear an opinion from the boy, to get a glimpse into his thoughts and interests.
“Hey, Isaac,” she called out, making sure to keep her voice gentle. The boy glanced over, seeming to freeze up for a moment, and didn’t otherwise acknowledge her, but he was clearly paying attention and that was all Pepper had asked for. “Are you done with coloring?”
He hesitated for a moment, but carefully nodded his head. Pepper glanced at the clock; She was still babysitting for at least another hour, working for at least three more - well, she guessed she could make it four. Christine wouldn’t be home tonight anyway.
“Want to learn something cool?”
Another moment of hesitation, an uncertain glance towards Sophia, who wasn’t paying attention, and eventually another careful nod, before he got up and approached her desk.
Pepper smiled in triumph, nerves dancing in her stomach as she got up and walked around the side of her desk, helping him sit down in one of the guest chairs before she took the other. It might be a terrible idea - Sophia never had the patience to bother with her homework outside of school - but she didn’t have many toy options in her office, and the opening was too hard to ignore. It was worth a try.
She pulled a rejected contract from the pile, flipping it over to the empty backside and pulled a pen closer - on second thought, she switched it out for a round marker with a thicker handle, easier to hold for a small child.
“Have you learned the alphabet before?” She asked, just to be sure. It felt like something Tony would ask - not making assumptions just because they were small and young, at the very least using it as an opener to the conversation.
To her surprise, Isaac nodded and actually smiled before eagerly starting to recite the alphabet. He only switched around a few letters, stumbling over L-M-N-O-P though getting the order right, but it was impressive nonetheless.
“Really good!” She praised, scooting her chair closer to the desk. “Have you practiced writing it yet?”
He hesitated again, before crawling fully into his chair, folding his legs underneath him so he could sit on his knees and lean closer to the table. Grabbing the pen with his full grip, he started scribbling on the paper. Pepper leaned closer to get a better look, watching in amazement as Isaac wrote out - not the alphabet - but his name, in shaky but clear capital letters.
“That’s great, Isaac!” Pepper reached out to squeeze his shoulder, making a smile tug at his lips. “Want to learn to write the entire alphabet?”
Isaac nodded, shyly holding out his marker for Pepper, who took it from him and grabbed a new sheet of paper.
“Aunt Pepper?” Sophia interrupted, pulling Pepper’s attention back to her niece who’d appeared in between her and Issac’s chair. She was pouting up at her, holding out her markers. “If you’re done working, can’t we color together?”
“I”m playing a game with Isaac, now, honey,” Pepper told her carefully, nervous to upset Sophia or scare Isaac of.
“What game?” Sophia pouted. “And can’t I play? Zig won’t mind!”
“Of course, you can,” Pepper glanced at Isaac, who didn’t seem to mind indeed, though he was twitching slightly with impatience, looking back at his paper and starting on his name again. He didn’t have the marker anymore, but he used his finger to trace it out. “We’re practicing writing.”
As expected, Sophia followed Pepper’s words to Isaac’s paper, scowling as she realised what he was doing. Amused, she shrugged at Sophia. “You can also sit with us and continue coloring if you want?”
Sighing loudly, she nodded and drooped off back to her table. “I want to choose the game next time!”
“Deal,” Pepper smirked, rolling her eyes fondly at Tony’s daughter when her back was turned. Once Sophia was seated again, Pepper turned back to Isaac and pushed her blank paper forward to draw his attention. Isaac immediately stilled his scribbling - his practice of his name had drooped off into senseless loops of faux-cursive - and turned eagerly back to her.
“This is A,” she started, writing it clearly in the top left of the page. “You already know this one, see? Same with C.”
Isaac nodded as she pointed to the A’s he’d written in his name, and Pepper continued with B and C before handing the marker back so Isaac could start with copying the three letters. When he was done, written in slow but confident strokes, he immediately continued to D, E, F and G before coming to a halt and turning to Pepper for help. Pepper smiled, looking over Isaac in a new light as she felt a stab of fondness for the mother that he’d lost. Despite the ease with which Isaac seemed to be learning, it took time to get there - time and patience and dedication to sitting with your three year-old child and teaching him delicate motor movements. Furthermore, she’d read the file - of course she had - and knew Madelaine had both worked full hours and took night classes. The thought of doing all of that, caring for a child, and going out of your way to teach him was overwhelming.
“What’s that last one?”
“G,” Isaac spoke confidently, but glanced back at his page to double check.
“So what’s next?”
“A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H… H!”
“Did your mom teach you H yet?” When Isaac shook his head no, Pepper took the pen and continued her line of the alphabet - filling in the DEFG until she’d caught up with Isaac, before continuing with H I J. “This is H, I, and J.”
“I like Isaac!”
“Exactly!”
They continued for a while, Isaac starting to smile as the new letters became more and more familiar. Pepper glanced back at Sophia every so often, but she didn’t seem to mind being left out, even as she drifted away from coloring and grabbed a Barbie from the bottom drawer of the units lining the walls.
By the time the familiar whizzing of a portal sounded, Isaac could consistently write the alphabet up to the letter O. As usual, Sophia was the first onto her feet when Tony stepped through the portal, Tony grunting a little as he obediently picked her up. Isaac, on the other hand, didn’t look away from his paper, quietly starting a new line. It was unclear if he hadn’t yet heard the portal or if he was too eager to continue writing to care, but even Sophia’s squeal didn’t distract him from his work.
Pepper turned to her best friend just in time to see him frown at the empty chair next to Sophia’s, his gaze immediately sweeping the room and relaxing only when he found Isaac at Pepper’s desk. Catching Pepper’s gaze, he raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction. She inclined her head, a subtle gesture easily interpreted, as Tony immediately stepped closer to the desk, hovering in silence - even Sophia had stopped talking, leaning out to look over Isaac’s shoulder.
Isaac took his time finishing his final MNO, making sure the letters were neat and correct, before looking up eagerly at Pepper for approval.
“Perfect, Isaac,” She praised, at which he gave a shy smile in turn.
“Hey, buddy.” Tony’s voice was more gentle than usual, laced with careful tones. “Are you ready to go home?”
Isaac looked up, pout evident on his face even when he nodded and crawled down from his chair.
Pepper sent Tony a look, and Tony’s eyes in turn let her know he’d understood the question.
“I’ll call you later.” Tony told her pointedly but not unkindly, and when Pepper frowned but nodded, turned his attention to Isaac. “Did you have fun?”
Isaac nodded as he took Tony’s hand, shyly glancing back at Pepper as he followed Tony and Sophia to the portal. Pepper couldn’t see who’d created it, but it must have been Wanda or one of the Kamar Taj-trained Avengers.
Right as they were about to step through, Isaac turned back in an almost thoughtless move, waving a hand with a sad “bye, aunt Pepper” that had both her and Tony freeze in their tracks.
Pepper allowed a smile to bloom on her face, meeting Tony’s wide eyes with a triumphant grin. “Bye, Isaac. Hope to see you soon.”
17th of August, Avengers Compound
“So how many is that?”
“What?” Rhodey frowned up at Riri in confusion, before moving closer to her lab table and getting a better look at the sheet in front of her. “You don’t need my help solving this.“
“No, not the equations.” Riri rolled her eyes, as if that should have been obvious, and picked up her pen so she could twiddle it between her fingers. He couldn’t imagine what else she was talking about, so he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he let his frown deepen.
Riri sighed, turning around and jumping onto the workbench until her legs were comfortably dangling a couple of inches off the ground. Her curly hair was done in two, high buns on either side of her head, highlighting the tilt in her head as she looked at him. “Tomorrow’s mission - how many Hydra bases have we raided this year? And before your old brain gets confused - by ‘this year’ I mean from January until now.”
“Just because you’re not allowed to drive yet doesn’t mean I’m old.” Riri sent him a look, begging him to get back to the point, so Rhodey sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know. Ten after tomorrow? Why do you ask?”
“We raid suspected HYDRA bases twice a month, but they just keep popping up again so what’s the point?”
“What do you mean?” Rhodey leaned back, studying Riri’s face to try and get a read on the situation. She was wearing jeans that might actually come out of the nineties and a t-shirt he was pretty sure she’d cropped herself. It made her look both young and old at the same time, her forehead smeared with grease from a hard day’s work.
“It’s too easy for them to grow in numbers. All it takes is target vulnerable groups and manipulate them into joining.” There was an edge of frustration in her voice, both sincere and carefully controlled. “With how many marginalised groups there are and how divisive politics is these days, they’re not hard to find."
“What’s this about? You’d rather we’d stop trying? That doesn’t sound like you.” He reached down to grab one of the stools from underneath the worktable and sank down onto it. Mindlessly, he started undoing the clasps and straps of his leg braces, never ones taking his eyes off of Riri’s face.
“Of course not,” Riri reassured him, glancing down at her hands. “I just- Why don’t the Avengers have more political influences? Besides being mascots, I mean. We could make a serious difference - better the world on a systemic level.”
“Well, it’s not really-,” Rhodey stopped to find his words. He wanted his apprentice to challenge him, but he wasn’t prepared for this conversation. It had come completely out of the left field. He agreed with her in theory, but it wasn’t something he’d thought about since the Sokovia Accords. They’d agreed to follow the UN, agreed to follow the will of the people, but perhaps it had made them too complacent to the way of things.
Still, they were just people. Outside of voting and keeping track of the government there wasn’t much they could do - not without making a lot of people very nervous.
They didn't like the idea of too much power - let alone political power - left in the hands of the ungovernable.
“I’m the only one with any kind of political background, for starters.” Rhodey shrugged in lieu of an answer. “And we’re not supposed to be an American Organisation, either, so there’s concern about pushing the limits on that restriction.”
“But there’s other ways, no? Like advocating on a worldwide scale.” Riri argued so easily Rhodey knew she must have had a response prepared, having thought it over more than she’d wanted to let on. “Setting the example? Promoting aid for vulnerable groups?”
“Riri, I know it’s not all happening as fast as any of us would like, but the aid you’re thinking of is happening, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”
“What?” She scoffed. “The Captain America propaganda videos?”
“I know the Avengers are mostly focused on defense,” he continued, “but that’s because that’s their purpose. Just like the Avengers focus on protection, and stark Industries has a branch focused on damage repair, there’s an entire division for charity and support. Orphanages, shelters, and food banks, but also community outreach programs and after school care and support.”
“We mostly focus your training on battle scenarios because that’s the stuff no one else can do and we want you to be prepared to protect yourself, but we can surely find time to get you some hands-on volunteering work - help people more directly - if that’s what you mean?”
Riri clenched her jaw but nodded, looking back down and picking up her calculations. Rhodey waited for her to continue, but after a moment, she glanced back up and caught Rhodey’s eyes, teasing smile around her lips. “And I’m allowed to drive, I just can’t yet.”
“What?” Rhodey asked, confused by the sudden change in topic. He’d expected her to keep arguing, to keep pushing like so many of the other Juniors would have. They tended to have stubborn streaks.
“What you said earlier?” She raised an eyebrow, kicking her feet as she leaned closer to him. “I’m allowed to drive, I just never learned.”
“Why don’t you ask Happy?”
Riri scrunched her nose. “He’s still traumatised from teaching Peter.”
Rhodes snorted, grabbing the sheets of paper out of Riri’s hands. He knew what they were without looking through them; changes she wanted to make to her suit, calculations showing the energy expenditure and how to maximise it, constantly updating its full potential. It’s still crazy being surrounded by teen geniuses - even more so now he was older, looking at this child who was older than Tony had been when Rhodey had met him but was already in the same year at MIT as Harley.
It was different watching a fourteen year old experience college as an adult rather than a college student himself. He’d always been careful with Tony, finding the balance between being his friend but not turning into a babysitter. It was easier than one might think - sure, there were some stories, moments where Tony had experienced college too young, but back then he’d been as much Tony Stark as he was now. More often than not, he’d been found in the lab, staying late and working working working to win his father’s approval - especially in his early years at MIT. It’s only when he got a bit older, when he’d given up on that particular endeavor, that he started going out more regularly.
Riri had just turned sixteen, was about to enter her third year at MIT, and Rhodey couldn’t help but be reminded of the path his best friend had gone down his junior year. He could already see it in her; the boredom, the frustration, and impatience. The lack of fulfillment.
He’d never realised how much Tony had missed of being a teenager - those delicate few years between middle school and college. The years when no one expected anything of you but to exist and grow.
The doors to the lab slid open, and Rhodey's distracted smile turned genuine when he looked up to find Carol striding in. She was wearing her old army coveralls, and if that wasn’t a dead give-away that she’d been out flying the jet, her mussed up hair was. She had a tendency to leave the top off ever since he’d gotten her back. He was sure she'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d known her a very long time.
“Hi, you two,” she grinned, walking up to them and taking a seat on the desk next to Riri. “What are you talking about?”
“Can you teach me to drive?” Riri turned to Carol, eyes brightening, and Rhodes winced. Luckily, Carol snorted at the question.
“I’m a terrible driver.” She waved Riri off, before nudging her in the shoulder with her own. Her golden hair danced around her, eyes bright as dimples dug into her cheek. “I can teach you to fly a jet though - any kind you want.”
“Seriously?” Riri laughed, a bright and joyful sound.
“Seriously.” Rhodes sent an apologetic look at Carol when she pretended to glare at him, knowing she’d never been offended by her lack of skill. She’d always been bored by it - even back when they were young and only just allowed to drive the heavy military trucks through unfamiliar terrain. It was usually Rhodey or Maria driving, Carol content to sit in the passenger seat and daydream of flying.
“Why don’t you teach her?” She asked instead, kicking his knee with her boot-clad toes. Despite the fact that he couldn’t feel it anyway, she was gentle, fond smile dancing on her lips. He reached out to grab her foot and squeeze it.
“Sure,” Rhodes shrugged, surprised he hadn’t thought of it himself. It wasn’t just the braces though; He’d been so used to having a chauffeur that he hasn’t driven himself all that much in years - even before the accident it was only on rare occasions he got the chance to drive his own car. “If I remember how.”
“Can we all get lessons?” An excited voice piped up from the corner of the room, surprising all of them with its presence.
Rhodey caught Riri’s eye-roll as she turned her attention to Kate. She was standing by the wall, hair tied up in a tall ponytail and dressed in her black-and-purple gear, including her bow and a full quiver of arrows. One of the square white panels lining the inner lab walls appeared slightly out of sync, suggesting she’d snuck through it at some point.
“How long have you been standing there?” Carol asked, bemused, as her eyes roamed over the teenager.
“Standing? About twenty seconds. Squatting, ten to fifteen minutes.”
“Why?”
“Stealth training with Clint.” Kate shrugged, ignoring Riri’s terse tone and wincing as she stretched her legs, shaking them out a few times. “Man, I think I prefer the vents - at least I can lie down.”
“If I can give you some constructive criticism - ‘stealth’ means not giving yourself away.” Riri gave her a pointed look. “Anyway, why don’t you know how to drive? You’re almost twenty-one!”
“I’m from New York!” Kate looked offended by the very suggestion. “Besides, Clint keeps postponing my lessons for some reason, Harley barely has time to breathe let alone be bullied into a car with me, and Eli always exaggerates everything! He still hasn’t gotten into a car since the one time he let me drive.”
Carol met Rhodey’s eyes, raising her eyebrows at him in a look he could read easily after thirty years. Even disregarding the time she’d been gone, he’d spent enough time studying her to know all her tells. He smiled at her, trying to hide his own amusement from the teenagers. Riri, meanwhile, looked doubtful, even annoyed at Kate butting in.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Carol promised vaguely, and Rhodey met Riri’s eyes to make sure she understood that he’d teach her, at the very least.
They just needed to find someone willing to teach Kate.
“I’ll teach Hawkette.” The heavily accented voice cut in from the other corner of the room, and everyone swiveled their head in its direction. “What? I don’t get a reaction?”
Riri sighed and ran a hand down her face. Rhodey couldn’t help but think it an action of a much older person. “You get boredom and annoyance.”
“Tough crowd,” Yelena rolled her eyes, stepping forward and pulling out a stool from the table she’d been hiding behind. She dropped down onto it, leaning back heavily as her eyes swept the room in expectation.
“Really?” Kate lit up. Turning towards her companion, she pressed a hand to her chest in a touched gesture. “You’ll teach me?”
“You’re going to teach Kate?” Riri smirked, back to kicking her feet mindlessly, and Rhodes had to admit he shared Riri’s sentiment. “That ought to be good.”
“What?” Kate’s look turned wounded as she turned back towards Riri. “I’m a great driver!”
“So great your first and only driving lesson left a man traumatised for life.”
“He’s not traumatised,” Kate argued, “just a pussy.”
“Heck yeah!” Yelena snorted, pumping her fist. “I’ll have you driving the freeway before you know it.”
“I’m not sure that’s-,” Rhodey was cut off by the frown Carol sent him, shaking her head imperceptibly. He sent a frown of his own back, only to get a stern look in turn. Not breaking eye contact with his partner, he bit his tongue, trying to breathe past the completely rational thoughts and concerns running through his head.
Yet, he knew Carol, as usual, was right for a lot of reasons. It’s not their job to police the juniors on their lives outside of the compound or their general education.
Besides, if there was one thing Rhodey agreed with, it was that they needed more mundane experiences. As much as they tried to make it seem like one, the Avengers Initiative wasn’t actually summer camp. It was an entire life.
They needed parties and hobbies and rebellion and to grow and experience and choose their own paths, even - or especially - if it was a path away from the Avengers. The Junior Avenger Initiative had started as a way to train young heroes, to help them control their skills and keep them out of trouble.
Yet, most people that had signed on were still around. Some had spread out or gone off on their own, but they were still heroes, still belonged to the life and came back as much as possible.
Maybe all of them should have more friends outside of the Junior Avengers, someone or someones to keep them connected to life outside of being a hero. Peter was a prime example of the good it could do to have two feet left on the ground. Despite everything, he still maintained a civilian life, kept his eye on the future, spoke of jobs he wanted to have after college, outside of the Initiative.
It was healthy - and they all needed more of it.
Maybe, he should look into what Riri had suggested; look into more non-hero hero activities for the juniors, work towards building bridges towards normal life, ways for them to channel their skills and make a difference without it putting them at risk.
A more sustainable and lasting form of saving the world.
The younger ones like Kamala, Klara and Cassie still had high school to keep them distracted, to make connections outside of the life, but once they graduated, even if they went to university, it was a lot harder to get out of the compound. Riri herself was the prime example of that, barely leaving the lab, only attending a fraction of her classes if Harley was to be believed.
The fact that, apparently, none of them knew how to drive, was telling enough.
So Rhodey shut up, kept his - justifiable - doubts to himself, and was rewarded with a bright, dimpled smile in turn.
19th of August, Brooklyn
The late afternoon sun lit up the white stone of the Brooklyn Heights Ballet Academy, catching Miles’ eyes from far down the street. He knew he was early, so he took his time making his way down the sidewalk, letting his eyes trail over the people walking alongside and in front of him. There weren’t many, most hiding from the heat inside, but Miles liked the weather like this.
Brooklyn looked especially beautiful with the sun reflected off the stone buildings, the clear blue skies and the blooming trees lining the sidewalks. It definitely beat sitting inside in his Manhattan apartment - a shoebox really - shared with his two closest friends. There, it may be cooler, but it was covered in shadows, hidden between the high-rises. Here in Brooklyn, he could stretch his legs, feel the rays of sun on his skin, and be surrounded by his people.
He could pass by home, visit his parents, get a good meal. His parents would love to see him, and he loved seeing them, but lately it just made Miles feel awkward, sitting in a home he’d outgrown, a home quickly working to fill in the space he’d left behind. Mostly, though, he hated the anxiety he felt in the once-comforting home, worrying about slip-ups and secrets and dodging questions he couldn’t - or didn’t want to - answer.
He arrived in front of the building with still a few minutes to spare, so he found a perch on the stone railing of the steps leading up to the front door. He crisscrossed his legs, and watched the people that were coming and going.
At five, he knew the adult classes were starting, professional dancers with tight buns and ballet shoes strewn over their shoulders making his way past him, while the kids from the day-camp were escorted home by tired parents as they made their way down to the street.
It took another fifteen minutes for the familiar blonde bob to appear through the doorway, head thrown back in laughter as she talked to her friend and colleague - if Miles remembered correctly, it was probably Amelia Marie.
“Hey,” Miles called out to catch Gwen’s attention, his friend immediately raising her eyebrow as she noticed him.
“Hey.” Gwen shrugged the strap of her bag higher up her shoulder, waving her friend goodbye as she joined Miles.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure.” Gwen agreed with only a slightly suspicious look, nodding her head in the direction of Manhattan. Miles followed her lead, his thoughts drifting away again as they walked the familiar streets.
“So…” They’d almost reached the bridge in silence. When Miles didn’t answer to Gwen’s prompting, she glanced at him and nudged him in the side.
“What?” Miles shrugged, fighting the urge to squirm under her gaze.
“I know you want to talk about something. Otherwise you’d have waited until I’d gotten home on my own.”
“You know I just like the walk.”
“I do know that.” She conceded with a nod of her head. “I also know you especially like to walk while you need to discuss something serious.”
“I don’t - okay, maybe.” Miles huffed sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. He pulled Gwen to a stop by her arm, pointing towards a cafe he knew would be the last one before the bridge. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” Gwen shrugged and lead the way inside.
The donut shop was small and quiet at this hour, and they stepped up to the counter to place their order. The barista smiled at them, slightly forced and tired, her resting face inherently serious and apathetic, but Miles didn’t hold it against her. Her frizzy brown hair was pulled back from her face, the turquoise employee outfit somehow flattering on her, the pink collar bringing out the soft undertone of her lips.
Miles ordered a black coffee and a sugary donut to sweeten it with, Gwen sticking to a homemade raspberry lemonade, and they took it back out onto the streets, heading for the bridge. The sun brightened the east river into a shade of blue it rarely was, and the people around them were dressed colorfully to match the nice weather. He tried to take it all in, to bask in the familiar beauty. The wind cutting over the river was a nice relief against the heat, helping to calm Miles’ nerves and relax his shoulders.
Seeing Harley and Tony Stark had startled him, no question.
When he’d first seen the other boy, he’d assumed he’d been there for him. He’d both been relieved and disappointed to find out that wasn’t the case. Nora had been cute though, and it had definitely eased his anxiety concerning infants - he probably should have assumed she was his sister right of the bat, should have had the implication at the front of his mind. Yet no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get used to the idea. Living away from his parents probably hadn’t helped with that.
But the meeting had unsettled him, especially upon seeing Iron Man himself; it was all getting too close for comfort, when all Miles had tried to do for the last six months had been to run in the opposite direction.
For a moment, his mind had even considered the possibility of it being an ambush - of Harley having set him up. Even the anxiety that had made him pull away hadn’t helped hide the relief he’d felt upon realising that wasn’t the case. If Harley was there with his sister, and he was the mechanic, it would stand to reason Iron Man was there too. He’d heard Tony Stark had adopted again - though that was as much as the media had managed to find out. Three children in total, though genders, ages, and names had all remained obscured. Tony Stark being there suggested Nora was one of the three, and it made Miles wonder about the dynamic there - Harley had called her his sister.
“So?” Gwen nudged again, clearly not letting Miles off the hook.
Miles wanted to talk - Gwen had been right to deduce that’s the reason he’d sought her out - but that was easier said than done. It was hard enough sorting through his thoughts, but he’d also have to skirt around the actual problem; finding a way to ask advice without actually asking. He couldn’t tell her, because despite the way of the world - despite there being gods from outer space and men in tin cans flying through the air - boys really, with dark golden curls and eyes that are a mystery - there was no way he could tell her the truth.
If he didn’t tell anyone, it would be his little secret, he could ignore it was real.
But it had already broken containment - the internet knew, and a complete loose canon with a direct line to Tony Stark himself, could even recognise his face.
“How do you know what your path’s supposed to be in life?” Miles started carefully, knowing he sounded ridiculous but also realising he couldn’t stall any longer. He had to say something even if, as usual when coming out of his mouth, it sounded nonsensical.
“Miles, you’ve had your path chosen for years. You know exactly what you want to do.” Gwen scoffed, a smile growing on her face as if Miles were messing with her, before turning more serious again. “Do you not enjoy your courses anymore?”
“I do! It’s not that!,” Miles stumbled, trying to reorient his thoughts. “I know what I want to do - but what if something seems to be pushing you towards another path? Shouldn’t you listen?”
Gwen studied him through the corner of her eyes, considering him before carefully asking with a sympathetic squint of her eyes, “Is this about your uncle?”
“What?” Miles spluttered in confusion, racking his brain over what Aaron could possible have to do with- oh. “No! It’s not about that! I mean what if the universe is trying to tell you to take another path? Like, career-wise - kind of.”
Miles knew superheroeing wouldn’t technically be a career, but he was also smart enough to realise that there wouldn’t be much else to do. Waiting around for chaos to strike was a full-time job, especially in New York. No way he’d still be able to do what he wanted to do - finish college and become a civil engineer and get a place in Brooklyn and live a normal fucking life. He didn’t think that was too much to fucking ask for.
He’d followed his parents’ advice, done what they wanted and taken the scholarship offered to him, changing the course of his life without his permission. And now he was finally happy with his path, appreciating where life had lead him, the universe still wasn’t satisfied.
“Miles, what is this about?”
“Nothing! Nothing. Nevermind. I just - I want spinach for dinner.”
“You want - what?”
If there was one thing Miles had learned about being a terrible liar, it was that if a subject change was too obvious, it often worked better than a subtle one. Gwen now too let confusion distract her, blinking down at Miles as if all previous thoughts had been punched out of her.
“I want spinach. We should stop by the shop.”
“Why spinach?”
“I need … iron,” Miles shrugged. “And I like spinach.”
“If you need iron you need to eat steak.”
“Good idea! Let’s get steak too.”
“Something’s wrong with you,” Gwen said, but it wasn’t in an observing way, wasn’t her figuring him out. Instead, as he’d wanted, she was shaking her head in judgement, but with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes as she was all too familiar with his bouts of weirdness.
Gwen, already distracted, changed the topic to a party Amelia Marie had invited them to, and they didn’t breach the topic again as they finished their walk to their apartment, stopping by the store for Miles’ spinach and steak. Later he’d have to grind his teeth as he shoveled the limp leafs into his mouth, pretending to actually like it despite the fact he had no idea how to make it as good as his mother. And when he was lying in the bedroom he shared with Ganke, no one would bat an eye at him staring at his phone for hours on end, watching the same video on loop and itching for a can of spray paint in his hands.