Chapter Text
Peter is late. Just to change something for once in his life.
He should’ve checked Manhattan traffic. It’s a thousand times worse than Queens. He passed at least four different drivers, convinced they were the kings of the road and who blatantly ignored the canary yellow Beetle.
Is this how it feels when you’re late for work? This anxious?
So, it’s not his first job, but it’s different from all the ones he’s had before. For one thing, it’s outside of Queens. Second, this boss is ten times richer than his former bosses. So the tension in his shoulders reached the level of a violin string.
He takes his hand off the steering wheel for a second to push up his glasses with his knuckles and rub his tired eyelids.
He slept little. Up until two o’clock to drop off a little girl, return to his apartment, call May, and explain, without too many details, how he got the job.
No, May, Peter doesn’t intend to build weapons for Tony Stark. No, May, Peter doesn’t want to enlist. No, May, Peter won’t be a guinea pig for Stark’s new missiles.
But he’ll become the new pastime of his daughter, who’s convinced that everyone’s a character in a huge comic book.
Totally normal.
Peter finds a parking spot after several laps around Stark Tower and when he enters the lobby he already knows he’s in trouble. Tony Stark, along with his loyal team and his daughter, stares at him as soon as he enters.
Well, this should be fun.
“Parker.” Tony welcomes him when he reaches them. He has sunglasses on and a cup of coffee in his hand, the other’s in the pants pocket. “It’s nice to have you join us, finally. I have a meeting in like…” He pretends to look at the watch he isn’t wearing. “… five minutes ago.”
Peter straightens his shoulders, takes the inhaler from his inside jacket pocket and inhales from it. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. Traffic’s horrible, I did as fast as I could and…”
“Ah!” Tony raises a hand. “No excuses. I’ll try not to be too taken in by your big, lost-puppy eyes from now on, because you work for me now.”
Peter nods and exchanges a displeased look with everyone present. This morning, only Miss Potts and the head of security are here. And Morgan, of course. With a backpack on her back.
What’s this all about?
“Are we going somewhere?”
Tony takes a sip of his black coffee. “Me and Pepper are going to the meeting where Obie’s been waiting for us, while you three are going to Central Park. Morgan’s request. It’s your first day with her and you’ll also be outdoors. So, don’t lose sight of her, never leave her alone, take her with you wherever you go, make sure she always stays in your field of vision. Miss Potts?”
Pepper hands Peter a piece of paper. “My number, Mr. Hogan’s number and Mr. Stark’s number for emergency contact. There’s also Colonel Rhodes’ number, just in case. A list of Morgan’s allergies, what she likes and dislikes.”
Peter reads fast and yeah, there’s anxiety. Again. Stronger.
Tony opens his mouth again. “Don’t let anyone near her. Even though my daughter is top secret to the press, it’s best to be safe. Spies are everywhere. Take her to the bathroom when she needs it, don’t give in if she asks for popsicles after lunch and don’t sneeze near her; she picks up germs more easily than bees are attracted to honey. Any questions?”
Peter blinks. Twice. Three times. “Can I breathe?”
Tony watches him impassively through his dark glasses without moving and after several seconds of silence he drinks a long cup of steaming coffee. “Silently.”
Of course.
Tony points with two fingers at his friend in the suit and tie. “This is Mr. Hogan, my head of security. He’ll accompany you and stay close to protect you from anyone.” He avoids saying that his friend doesn’t trust the boy, more than anything.
Peter folds the paper, puts it in his backpack and shakes the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Peter Parker, but, uhm… I guess you already knew that.”
“Harold Hogan. Everyone calls me Happy.”
Peter frowns and withdraws his hand after the man’s firm grip. “They call you Happy?”
Happy sharpens his gaze. “Yeah. Why?” He’s mentally preparing for the trial. It’s not the first time. Stuff like, ‘They call you Happy, but you don’t look it.’
Peter looks him up and down, his gaze confused and worried. “If you’re like this, man, the hell happened to the other dwarves?”
Happy’s eyes widen, Pepper covers her mouth with her hand, Morgan bursts out laughing and Tony spits his coffee into the take-out cup.
“Alright, that’s it!” Happy goes to run at him, but Tony holds him back. His boss is laughing while coughing. “Come here, you. Come here, you little…! I’ll show you the dwarf!”
Peter runs to the doors. “See you outside, Mo!” he screams.
It takes a while to calm Happy down, and after Morgan says goodbye to her dad and his assistant, she, Peter and Happy takes the car to go to the park.
Peter’s relaxing, enjoying the fresh air and the view. But knowing Morgan Stark’s a fiery young woman, he should’ve expected this.
They’re having lunch, and Happy insisted on paying for all three of them. Mr. Stark’s order, he says.
At the end of the meal, Morgan says she needs to use the bathroom and asks Peter if he can accompany her ‘cause she’s afraid of getting lost in the restaurant.
Peter finds this unusual behavior for a ten-year-old, but Mr. Stark has given him rules to follow, and she’s his boss’ daughter. So he finds himself agreeing, while Happy waits for them at their table.
He also finds himself with two backpacks on his shoulders – his and Morgan’s – as he chases the little girl who runs out of the restaurant and yells at him to follow.
“Morgan, stop! Where are you going?” He runs like a sore thumb to keep up with her, and the little girl leads him to some stairs that lead to the underground subway.
All Peter can think is ‘Great, I am so fired after one day’.
Peter reads the name of the stop on a sign on the wall: 59 St.-Columbus Circle. Where the hell is Morgan headed?
“Petey, hurry up!” Morgan hops up to get a glimpse of him, and the poor, out-of-breath boy reaches her before the doors to Line 1 can close.
The little girl sits down and takes her backpack from him, as the subway departs for its next stop. “Thank you.”
Peter sits next to her, catching his breath. “You’re dead. I’m dead. Happy’s gonna kill me. If your father doesn’t beat him to it.”
“Nobody’s gonna kill you. I’ll say the truth and take the blame.”
Peter adjusts his glasses, a nervous tick of his own, and looks at the girl angrily. “Mo, what the heck where you thinking?”
“I had no choice; we’d to lose Happy to start the second part of Operation Spider.”
“Which is?”
Morgan opens his backpack and takes out the book. That damned book Peter is starting to hate. “We’re gonna find the first Avenger: Steve Rogers aka Captain America.”
Awesome. “Where? Tell me where we’re going so I can text Happy.”
Morgan snaps the book shut and faces his brother squarely. “It’s our mission, Petey, it’s just between the two of us. You can’t tell Happy until we talk to Steve. No one believes in the curse, and I know you don’t believe in it right now either, but you and I are the only ones who can break it.”
This little girl can make his head spin just by talking. Amazing. “Okay. I’ll call him later. Where is this little friend of yours, Steve?”
“He’s not little, he’s almost a hundred years old, he just doesn’t know it yet.”
Peter nearly chokes on his own breath. He’s accompanying a little girl to visit an unfamiliar grandparent. Not creepy at all. “Are we going to a nursing home?”
“Nope.”
“Good. At least it’s something.”
During the subway ride, Peter’s phone is bombarded with anonymous calls and messages. From the content, he realizes they’re from Happy, Miss Potts and—God forbid—Mr. Stark. Morgan stops him from answering and honestly he’s more than happy to comply. Better to apologize than be given permission, right?
Apparently, Morgan’s target is Battery Park. More specifically, the World War II East Coast Memorial.
“Mo, it’s getting late, I’ve to take you home.” Peter groans as they wander among people reading the names of fallen heroes.
Morgan keeps her eyes on a picture in the book, turning in all directions. “No, we gotta find him first. I know he’s here.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s Captain America. If the curse kept my father tied to what he did before becoming Iron Man, perhaps the other Avengers are also stuck in their pasts or in something important about their true identities. Steve Rogers fought in World War II; he’s a good and honest soul. He’s either here or working at the university as a history professor.”
Peter’s head falls back as he groans. “These are just your guesses! Have you ever met him?”
“Not after the curse.”
The boy wants to facepalm. “Then how would you know…?”
“There he is!” She squeals.
Peter looks where the little girl is pointing. A man in a dark green janitor’s uniform is cleaning one of the monuments with a cloth and polish spray.
Morgan runs to him and Peter, as always, has to follow her.
“Excuse me, sir?” She says.
The man turns around and Peter notices that the stranger’s eyes are blue under his peaked cap. He smiles at them. “Oh, good evening, kids. It’s nice to see that also young people are interested in history. How are you doing?”
This guy’s not a hundred years old at all. “Ehm, Morgan?” Peter whispers. “Are you sure it’s him?”
“Check it out.” She passes him the book.
Peter finds himself faced with a drawing of a man in an American flag uniform with a strange shield with a white star in the center. The face, however...
He almost has a stroke. Same jaw, same cheekbones, same eyes. He looks… familiar.
Morgan smiles at the man. “Is your name Steven Grant Rogers?”
The man takes off his hat and scratches the back of his ear, surprised. Same hair, Peter notices. “The one and only, little miss. How can I help you?”
“Do you believe in magic and curses?”
Peter refrains from covering her mouth with his hand. There’s no way she really asked him…
Steve is perplexed. Then he smiles with interest, complete with his very white teeth and dimples. “Tell me more.”