Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pardoning the Rogues was no easy feat. Tony had spent months working to get this right, despite his lingering resentments. He had made compromises he wasn’t comfortable with. He even gave in to letting them stay at the Tower. And when they decided at the last minute to push their grand welcoming date back, he’d given them the benefit of the doubt. When they did it again, he begrudgingly let it slide. When they did it a third time, he began questioning why he even wanted the Rogues back again. And then today - today, he’d spent 9 hours with them and the stuffy government suits double-checking every last clause before they’d sign on. The whole time with pointed stares and palpable animosity. And now he, Steve, Nat, Clint, Sam, and Rhodey all stood silently in the elevator up to the shared floor, and Tony wasn’t even sure if the hard part had really started. 

“So… you still got rooms for us or are we sharing the couch?” Steve asked. It was a lame attempt at a joke, Tony knew, but still the implication hurt. Tony glanced at Rhodey, who was rolling his eyes. Thank God for Rhodey. He’d said he was coming along to the Tower to ensure everything settled fine, but Tony knew he was really there for him. And the part of Tony that needed someone to have his back won over the part of him that was screaming that he didn’t need an emotional support buddy.  

“Yes, Rogers. I haven’t touched your rooms. They’re all the same,” Tony breathed. And it was true. The floor had felt violently empty since the Rogues left. Sometimes, he or Peter ventured down there to use the bigger gym, or if the penthouse kitchen was out of some foodstuff, but the floor had an eerie vibe. They tended to stay on Tony’s floor or in the upper labs. 

The elevator doors pulled open, and Tony jutted out, maybe a little too quickly. 

“So you know where your rooms are. I had the kitchen restocked yesterday. Same gym down the hall. Fresh towels and sheets in the closet. Same living room, same everything. And if you need anything, you can ask FRIDAY.” Tony had already begun walking back to the elevator where Rhodey stood, eager for some time apart from his ex-best friends. 

“Hey Tony,” Nat’s voice, quieter than normal, stopped him. He turned around and looked at her. 

“Thanks for this.” The real appreciative smile on her face almost made him feel hopeful. Until Rogers cut in. 

“Yeah, I bet you couldn’t have been too eager to have us in your home.” And that was just too much. Was he trying to make Tony mad? Every word he’d spoken since they’d been brought back together undermined everything Tony had been doing to make this possible. 

“You know Rogers, they didn’t just decide to let you back. ‘Oh, I know they’re war criminals, but what if we pardoned them just this once .’ This took a real effort from me, and I’d honestly like to see some gratitude!” 

“I know they didn’t just decide to pardon us-”

“Oh, they didn’t! Your government, Spangles, was thoroughly against you from the beginning-”

Sam tried to cut in. “Okay, we get it, Tony. Seriously, man, thanks-”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to sound ungrateful. But you were also against us from the beginning, and I’m just saying it's clear you aren’t super pleased with how this worked out for you.” Steve turned around, but Tony didn’t miss his mumbled, “Not the most welcoming welcome I’ve had.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I didn’t break out the streamers and confetti. Seriously, Rogers, can you not think of a single reason why I might not be jumping with joy to have you back in my home! Could you maybe see my perspective here, or is your head too far up your-”

“Okay!” Rhodey burst in between Tony and Steve. “We’ve all had a very long, very weird day, and it’s probably time for sleep? Maybe we can work on this lovely relationship-building during daylight hours.”

Steve looked like he had more to say, but Clint cut him off. “It’s probably a good thing we don’t have to share the couch.” Five pairs of eyes looked up at him expectantly, but Clint kept his gaze focused on whatever was on the couch. “You’ve got company, Tony.”

Tony made his way over to where Clint was on the other side of the couch, just as confused as everyone else. But when he saw a messy tousle of brown hair peek out from under a tightly wrapped blanket, Tony’s guilt skyrocketed. With the last minute change of plans, Tony had completely forgotten to let Peter know that he wasn’t gonna be at the Tower today. And it was Friday, which meant after lab time and some routine Spider-Man-ing, Peter usually spent the night. He’d really dropped the ball on this one. And now Peter was wrapped on this couch, on the shared floor, asleep , right in front of six superheroes. 

Tony crouched down and touched Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, Pete,” and the others didn’t miss how soft his voice had gotten. “Hey, kid, wake up.” Peter struggled awake reluctantly, but his eyes were red and squinty. “You okay, kid? What’re you doing on this floor?”

“I, I-” Peter squinted again, looking confused. “I’m not… You weren’t in the lab or the penthouse, and I asked FRIDAY where you were, and she said something about the Avengers… I thought maybe you were on the Avengers floor.” But Peter’s eyes were shifting shut again before he even finished his sentence. 

“Are you okay, Pete? You seem out of it. You’re not sick, are you?” Tony put his hand on Peter’s forehead and called for FRIDAY.

“FRIDAY, what’s up with him? Does he have a temperature?” Rhodey came up behind Tony now, also worried about Peter, but maybe a little more conscious that there were four other thoroughly confused Avengers in the room. 

“Mini Boss appears to have a very small fever, around 99.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Based on his symptoms and the recent outbreak, it is likely that he has a mild case of influenza type A, colloquially referred to as ‘the flu.’”

Tony hadn’t taken his eyes off of Peter, but Rhodey turned just in time to see Sam mouth the words ‘Mini Boss.’

“Oof. Rough hand, buddy. Sorry I’ve left you on the couch all evening. Come on, think you can make it to your room? Promise I won’t wake you up again ‘til morning.” Peter rubbed at his eyes, still clinging to the blanket with his other hand. Clint walked up behind Rhodey’s shoulder, trying to get a glance at the sick kid. When Peter’s hand came away from his face, his eyes widened in shock momentarily, before settling down to confusion and concern. 

“I’m hallucinating. Colonel Rhodes is here... and Hawkeye is standing behind you. And he like, doesn’t even have his bow?” 

Tony turned over his shoulder to look at Rhodey and Clint. Clint’s face held some mixture of concern - probably from dad instincts - and confusion. And maybe a little bit of pride for being recognized. Tony stared at them both for a moment before turning back to Peter. “Yeah, the flu can make you hallucinate.”

Tony thought he heard a mumbled, ‘ha ha’ from Rhodey, but he wasn’t really in the mood to explain to Peter that the Rogue Avengers had in fact shown up at the Tower and that this illness-ridden, groggy, whimpering Peter really was the first impression he was giving them. 

“Come on, up, up, up. To the elevator, to your room, and then you can sleep the night away.” Tony pulled Peter up off the couch, and Peter leaned into him a bit as they made their way to the elevator, blanket still around Peter’s shoulders. Luckily, Nat, Steve, and Sam were positioned behind the couch, where Peter couldn’t see them. It wasn’t until the two were inside the elevator, doors closing, when Peter glanced outward and saw the three other figures.

“Wait-” But the doors closed before the thought was finished. 

The five other superheroes stood silent and frozen, eyes fixed on the now-closed elevator. Then, what felt like all-at-once, their eyes went to Rhodey. It was Sam who broke the silence. “Uh, hey, what the hell was that?”

“Um, those were the Avengers? Like all of them. Well not Dr. Banner or Thor, but Black Widow and Hawkeye and, and… Captain America. And Rhodey. And the Falcon. They were all, I saw all… I- Maybe we should call Dr. Cho.” 

Tony glanced at Peter as the elevator opened to the penthouse. “Relax, kid. I lied. You’re not totally crazy. Well, you’re not hallucinating, at least.” Tony took a deep breath as he guided Peter out of the elevator and towards his room. “I, uh… Those really were the Avengers. Or you know, the war criminal ones… They came back today. Kinda unexpectedly. Well not that the whole thing was unexpected, but today… I didn’t expect them to show up today. Signed the revised Accords, if you could still call them that. That’s why I wasn’t here when you got out of school today. Again, I’m sorry about that, kid.” 

There were far too many things going on in Peter’s brain now. The Avengers were back? If they’d signed the Accords, or at least some form of the Accords… What did that mean for Spider-Man? And they’d all come back to the Tower because they were living there now? For how long? Was there something they were training for, a reason they’d come back? Would they find Dr. Banner and Thor? And what about the others? Scarlet Witch? Ant-Man? And wait… had he really just whined on Tony’s couch, nose runny and eyes red, as his first impression in front of all the Avengers?! 

“Oh, God. Oh my God. That has got to be like, the worst first impression ever. Oh my God.” And now Tony was laughing. Tony was laughing at him about what was maybe the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened. Oh my God . Peter glared at him. 

“Calm down, kid. You got to admit, it’s a little funny. Besides, you’re sick. People get sick, they’ll get it.” Peter wanted to argue that he didn’t really think the Avengers did get sick. Definitely not super-soldier Captain America. And he really couldn’t imagine Black Widow sick. But nonetheless, Peter was sick, and his sick brain was done arguing and ready for bed. Tony and Peter stepped into his bedroom, and Peter practically fell onto his bed. 

“Do we… do we have to tell them about Spider-Man? I mean about me, and me… being Spider-Man?” Peter had to get this last question in, even if he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He was only distantly aware of Tony trying to unwrap him from the throw blanket and force him under the covers. 

“No. Not if you don’t want to.” And some part of Peter’s brain told him to switch his death grip from the blanket to his bedsheets. 

“What do we tell them then?”

“The truth. You’re my intern. High school prodigy, inheritor of my fortune, superstar genius. Just leave out the web-slinging vigilante bit.” Peter smiled at the compliments. He was relieved he didn’t have to reveal his secret, and a part of him was excited. Terrible first impression and lingering animosity aside, it was gonna be awesome to be hanging out around the literal Avengers. He’d finally settled into bed, and consciousness was slipping away. 

“Thanks, Tony. Thanks for taking care of me.” Peter blinked and caught a glimpse of Tony’s smile. 

“Of course, kid. Get some rest. Tell FRIDAY if you need anything. Feel better.” Tony was at the door, reaching for the light. Peter was nearly knocked out, when Peter’s brain caught up with him. 

“Wait… inheritor of your fortune?!”

“Go to sleep, kid.” And the lights went out. 

Tony really wanted to completely ignore the five enhanced individuals a few floors down. He really did. He didn’t think they deserved an explanation about the couch-mongering teenager. He didn’t owe them that. But he did owe Rhodey everything, and he was aware that he left him alone to fend off all the questions. So Tony took the elevator ride back down to the ex-Avengers floor. 

When the elevator door clicked open, he heard a cacophony of voices, among which were the questions: “What do you mean it’s not your place to say?” “Tony hates kids. Tony has always hated kids. I swear Tony hates kids.” “How old is he anyway?” But the voices all cut to silence, and all eyes were on Tony when he stepped out of the elevator. 

“Hey, platypus. Thought I’d come down here and rescue you from the vultures.” Despite being clearly stressed out, Rhodey did have a bit of a smirk on his face. “Come on, let’s get some food in you and return you to your government-minted vault.” 

“Hold up, Tony,” Nat spoke first, and that was probably a good thing, since she was really the only one Tony still considered a friend. “Who’s the kid?”

Tony looked around at their faces, still hoping he could maybe push this off for a day or two. “Peter.”

“And Peter is… your…?” It was Clint this time, and although Tony had never been very close with Clint, and they weren’t on the same page with the Accords, he felt some connection on this point. Clint seemed like he understood. Tony wasn’t willing to fully accept that it was because Clint had also had a secret family.

Tony wasn’t an idiot. He knew what it looked like. Oh, he’s my intern. My intern who has a room in the Tower, who spends Friday nights here. My intern who I’m nicer to than anyone else, who has total clearance on all floors of the Tower. My 16-year-old intern. That was gonna be a hard-sell to anyone, let alone a group of mistrustful crime-fighters who knew his playboy past, including a renowned superspy. Nonetheless, Tony had promised not to tell them about Spider-Man, and he wasn’t about to pretend that Peter was some long-lost son, so ‘intern’ was exactly what he went with. 

“Intern. Super smart, prodigy, genius. Works in the labs. Really, kid’s incredible. Remarkable stuff.” Nat, Clint, Steve, and Sam all glanced at each other, with a few raised eyebrows. Nat, arms crossed, spoke up. 

“Your intern… who lives in your building?”

“Oh, no, Peter doesn’t live here. He just stays over sometimes. I wasn’t gonna make him hike all the way back to Queens with the flu. I’m not that cruel of a boss.”

Now Steve cut in. “You hate kids. You took a teenage intern?”

“Yeah, well, like I said, super smart. Really, crazy smart.”

Sam’s turn. “The robot voice. She called him Mini Boss.”

“She’s called FRIDAY. And you probably don’t know this yet, but I give everybody nicknames. I’m a nickname guy. Right, honeybear?” Rhodey nodded, but he looked a little desperate. They didn’t need to be arguing about this after the day they had. 

Rhodey offered some relief, “Look, I thought it was a little weird the first time I met Peter too, but he really is super smart. He’s a cool kid too. You guys will like him.” Tony appreciated the help, but he wasn’t so sure how he liked the sound of that. He was pretty much planning on keeping these guys away from the kid as much as he could. He didn’t think that was super likely, with Peter’s enthusiasm and Tony’s inability to say no to him, but he was still gonna try. 

Clint cut in quietly, head down but looking up at Tony. “You seem pretty close?”

And there it was. How could Tony deny that? He looked around at all the others, looking at him expectantly. And mostly they just look tired, maybe confused. But something about Steve’s eyes looked mad or disappointed. And that did not sit well with Tony. 

“Yeah, well, it’s really none of your business is it?” Clint had asked the question, but Tony was looking at Steve, and Steve cut in to answer. 

“No, it kind of is. We’re living here too. We’re supposed to be building back some form of trust, and you weren’t even gonna mention that you’ve got a kid? Living here?”

“Yeah, we’re building trust, because trust levels, those are gone to shit now, so maybe I would’ve worked up to telling you about Peter, but I don’t see why I owe that to any of you. Besides, Peter doesn’t live here. I already said that.”

“Maybe, that’s worse. We’re supposed to be keeping low-key. How are we supposed to know that he isn’t gonna go tell everyone at school that he saw all the Avengers here this weekend?”

Tony heard Rhodey mumble an ‘oof’ and saw Clint shake his head. He could practically feel that Rogers was baiting him, either eager for a fight or testing to see if Tony would defend Peter. But it didn’t matter if it was some stupid test. Tony wasn’t gonna let him, him of all people , stand here and question Peter’s trustworthiness. 

“Look, Rogers , that kid up there, is better, more trustworthy, more dependable than all of you put together. You wanna build back trust? Well, trust me on this one. If I say he’s none of your business, he’s none of your business. If I say he’s trustworthy, he’s trustworthy. Peter has never broken my trust. He isn’t the one here who needs to be watched. And if I thought he’d be better off if I didn’t tell you about him, then I wasn’t gonna tell you about him. I will put Peter ahead of you every single time. Get used to it.”

Tony was right in Steve’s face, and Steve stared right back. For a moment, everything was quiet. Then, Steve broke out into a grin. The tension was gone, and the others started chuckling. Everything Tony said caught up with him, and he knew he’d said too much. If they didn’t think Peter was his secret kid before, they certainly did now. 

Sam whistled and let out a quiet “damn.” Tony heard Clint laugh and say, “You shouldn’t have come for his kid like that, Steve.” Nat just smiled and shook her head. Tony turned around and looked to Rhodey for some help, but he was laughing too. “What can I say, man, you showed your hand.”

Tony shook his head and started back towards the elevator. “Okay, hardy har har laugh it up. This is gonna be super fun. I’m really looking forward to this fun bonding we’re doing.”

Nat joined in, “Oh, come on, it’s cute. Tony’s got a heart after all.”

“No, I really don’t, it’s mostly metal.” Rhodey joined Tony outside the elevator. 

“Alright, man, tell your son we hope he feels better,” Clint called out. Tony heard Nat joke, “I’ve always wanted a nephew.”

Tony wasn’t sure how he was gonna convince them that Peter really wasn’t his son, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Before the elevator doors shut on him and Rhodey, he saw all his old friends smiling up at him, including Steve. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t gonna be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

This really wasn’t Peter’s week. It had been 7 days since the Avengers found him asleep on Tony’s couch, fever-ridden and convinced they were all hallucinations. Which, Peter was pretty sure, had to be literally the worst way anyone had ever introduced themselves. Mortifying first impression aside, Peter also had the problem of the flu. He was sick in bed for 4 days, only getting up for the nausea-inducing Saturday morning car ride back to Queens. Everyone forgets how bad it is to be really sick, until you’re sick again. It’s like, we know being sick is bad, but we forget really how bad bad is until we’re living it. May took a full day off work on Monday, convinced that his freaky spider DNA was going to have some extreme adverse reaction to being sick. By Monday night, after going through a few periods of being pretty sure he was on death’s bed, Peter was finally starting to feel lucid again. He couldn’t manage to convince May to let him go back to school on Tuesday, but he was able to convince her to go back to work. She had, however, made him promise that if he felt worse he would call Happy or Tony and spend the rest of the day with someone carefully watching him. Peter promised, but he had absolutely no intention of repeating Friday night’s encounter, so he was thankful when he woke up Tuesday morning mostly recovered. 

By Wednesday, he was back in school, and although it felt good to be back in the world of the living, the make-up work didn’t exactly spark joy. Peter had a surge of that not-unfamiliar feeling that there literally weren’t enough hours in the day for school, homework, Academic Decathlon, sleeping, and Spider-Man. Something had to go, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Queens go another day without their favorite vigilante. So, yeah, maybe he’d missed one or two practices for Decathlon, but he really didn’t see why that necessitated an ‘emergency’ meeting. But instead of sitting in the cafeteria at noon on Friday, Peter was sitting in the library with the rest of the team, all looking rather irritated. 

“Who’re we still waiting for?” Betty had her legs crossed and was drumming her fingers along the library book sitting on the table. 

“Uh, Mr. Harrington, duh?” Ned supplied from his seat next to Peter. “Anyone know what ‘emergency’ he could’ve been talking about?” Peter was pretty sure it was just going to be a pointed lecture about the importance of showing up to practice, but he didn’t mention that to Ned. 

MJ grunted from her seat in the middle of the room, arms crossed. She was glaring at Flash, who was standing next to her, looking defensive. Her words came out through gritted teeth, “ Mr. Harrington didn’t call this meeting.”
“What?” Peter spluttered. He didn’t even realize someone else could call a meeting.  “If he didn’t call it, who did?”

“ I said this was totally unnecessary, but Mr. Harrington insisted that this was a democracy and whoever wants to talk - no matter how idiotic - gets to talk.” MJ still had her glare trained on Flash, and now so did everyone in the room. Peter shivered. 

“Alright, fine,” Flash spoke up. “We were supposed to wait until Mr. Harrington got here to start, but whatever, I called the meeting.” Peter watched as Flash turned his gaze towards him. “Parker’s missed 3 practices.” A series of groans rang out. Peter, despite everyone’s displeasure, felt his face turn red at the (true) accusation. 

“Come on, Flash. You’re really gonna make us miss lunch cause you got some problem with Parker? Why do we all have to be here?” Brad scrunched his eyebrows up, arms crossed and leaning against the back wall. 

“We have the regional qualifiers next week! If Parker isn’t even practicing, how’re we gonna qualify with him on the team? I’m moving to vote that Parker doesn’t go to the qualifiers, and we send the alternate instead.”
“The alternate? You mean you, dickhead?” MJ grumbled, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, well, I am the alternate.” Flash shrugged, as if that was only an added bonus. But if Flash took over Peter’s spot for the qualifiers, then Flash had to replace Peter on the team for any of the competitions that came after, like regionals and nationals. He was basically suggesting that Peter become the alternate for the rest of the year. 

“Peter only missed practices because he was sick. You can’t hold that against him.” Betty looked over at Peter, smiling for her little victory. Peter tried to smile back, but he knew it wasn’t totally true.
“Parker was out of class ‘sick’” - Flash used air-quotes around the word ‘sick,’ and Peter had to roll his eyes. - “on Monday and Tuesday. He missed practice Wednesday and yesterday too.” Peter shrunk into his seat. He couldn’t really explain to the room that he had to miss practices so that Spider-Man could keep Queens safe. 

“Okay, why’d you miss those ones, Peter?” Betty asked. 

“I, uh…” Peter stuttered. It felt stupid to say he’d been busy, but that was pretty much all he could say. He looked at Ned, who just looked sorry for him. “I had a lot of make-up work from Monday and Tuesday, and I guess I just… fell behind? Sorry.” Everyone was looking at him, and Peter could tell they were starting to doubt him. 

Ned cut in. “Look, Peter’s probably the best competitor on the team? So, he missed a few practices this week, but he’ll go to all the ones next week before the competition, right Peter? We need him on the team.”

“Parker can’t just slide by without practice. He’s not as brilliant as you think he is,” Flash stepped closer to the two of them, challenging Peter.
“Okay, maybe Flash is kinda right?” Brad began reluctantly. “Look, I’m sorry, Parker, but it’s not super fair to just skip practice.”

“Oh, shut up, Brad. You’d really rather have Flash on the team?” MJ raised her eyebrows at him, but Brad just shrugged. 

Peter felt a little affronted now, and he tried to defend himself. “Look, it’s not like I haven’t been studying and stuff, I was just really busy this week. I won’t miss any more practices, and I swear I’m ready for qualifiers.” Peter was standing now, and Flash was standing only a little distance away. 

Ned stood up. “This is stupid. Mr. Harrington isn’t even here, so we can’t vote on it anyway. Let’s just go back to lunch, and we can talk about it at the next practice.”

Everyone seemed ready to accept that solution except Flash. “Oh, I bet you’re in a big hurry to get back to lunch, huh, fat kid.” Flash mumbled, but everyone heard. Some people groaned, and Peter thought he heard Brad say “Come on, man.”

Maybe if he hadn’t spent half the week sick, if he hadn’t totally embarrassed himself in front of the Avengers, if he hadn’t been swamped with make-up work, if he just hadn’t been so stressed this week, then maybe Peter would’ve just told Flash off and walked out of the room. It wasn’t like it was the first time someone picked on Ned for his size or the first time Flash said something terrible. But Flash always knew how to push Peter’s buttons at just the worst time. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Flash? Just lay off of everyone else and worry about yourself, okay?” Peter took a step towards Flash. 

“Oh, like you’ve been? I’m just thinking about the team, Penis. It isn’t fair how you and your weird friends get to do whatever you want with no consequences.” Flash took another step forward, and Peter knew other people were talking, but he was only focused on Flash. 

“Thinking about the team? That’s bullshit, Flash. You just want to cheat your way into my spot.” Part of Peter’s brain was screaming that he didn’t wanna be picking this fight, but he couldn’t seem to listen. 

“Cheat?! I’m the one who’s showing up!” Flash barely lifted his arm, but he made contact with Peter’s chest, and pushed him, just enough to set Peter’s senses off. Before Peter had even registered what happened, his fist was in front of Flash’s face. His brain caught up just in time to slow down his punch and hear Mr. Harrington shout his name from the doorway. 

Peter knew he’d taken all the strength out of his punch, but Flash had stumbled backwards and was clutching his nose. And then Mr. Harrington was in front of Peter, telling Peter to restrain himself and how ashamed he was and that both he and Mr. Thompson would be headed to the principal’s office and-

Oh shit. 

Peter thought Principal Morita’s face looked more bored than disappointed or reprimanding. It didn’t make him feel particularly guilty or remorseful, more like uninteresting. It all seemed stupid now. If they’d just waited for Mr. Harrington to come, Peter was sure he would’ve been on his side, and none of this would’ve escalated. But that didn’t happen and now Peter and Flash were sitting in the principal’s office across from Morita, with Mr. Harrington pacing behind them. 

Principal Morita sighed. “So, we have a zero-tolerance policy for violence. I’m sure you both know that.” He looked up at them expectantly. Peter offered a “yes, sir.”

“Well, I was just defending myself!” Flash argued. Which was just a lie. 

“We’ve got witnesses who say otherwise,” Mr. Harrington reminded him. Everyone else in the library had agreed that Flash pushed Peter first. Not to mention starting the argument. “And you were strictly instructed not to even begin this meeting until I had arrived.”

Flash wasn’t done arguing. “Yeah, well I barely touched Parker and he punched me in the face.”

“You pushed Peter, enough for him to stagger backwards, and although he shouldn’t have hit you back,” Mr. Harrington sent a pointed glare Peter’s way. “I saw him pull back before he hit you, and you clearly weren’t hurt very bad.”

Peter was lucky that he’d managed to pull back. He really had barely touched Flash, and he certainly hadn’t hurt him. There weren’t any marks on either of them. If there had been, Peter was sure he’d be in a lot more trouble. 

“Alright, well, there’s a minimum punishment of 3 days suspension for fighting. I’m applying that to both of you. You’ll be going home now, so I’ll be generous and count today as your first day. You can come back to school on Wednesday. Your situation with Decathlon is up to Mr. Harrington. I won’t keep either of you off the team.” The three of them looked up to Mr. Harrington to offer a solution. He stopped pacing and looked down at Peter and Flash. 

“Well, normally, if someone on the team was suspended this close to a competition, they’d be out. We’re supposed to practice every day next week, and you’ll both have to miss Monday and Tuesday.” He sighed. “But since both of you are suspended, and I don’t have another alternate ready, I’m keeping the team as is. Peter, you’ll be competing at qualifiers, and Flash, you’ll be the alternate. I expect you both to practice while you’re out of school. Especially you Peter, since you missed some practices this week.”

Peter gave a silent cheer that he’d get to compete after all. Even though he thought Flash was out of line, he had been a little concerned that Flash might get his spot. 

“What?!” Flash cut in. “But we didn’t decide at the meeting! People were starting to agree with me!” Flash insisted.

“While I find that hard to believe,” Mr. Harrington began, “that was before you started a fight.”

Flash grumbled to himself and sunk down into his chair. 

“Alright, with that all settled, I’m going to call your guardians to sign you out. You can head back to class, Mr. Harrington.” Peter watched Mr. Harrington nod and walk away, shaking his head to himself. Principal Morita trained his eyes on his computer screen. 

May definitely wasn’t going to be happy about a suspension. Peter was a real sucker for ‘not mad, just disappointed,’ and that was definitely May’s style. Peter sat quietly as Principal Morita called Flash’s mom. Flash was quiet now, and Peter almost felt bad for him. He knew Flash’s relationship with his parents wasn’t the best, and this probably wasn’t going to do anything to help. After a short conversation, Principal Morita hung up, clicked through his screen again, and then began dialing a new number. The three of them sat in silence as the phone rang and rang. No one picked up. May was at work, and it wasn’t totally abnormal for her to be unreachable. Peter wasn’t sure what happened now.
“Your aunt didn’t pick up. Should I try again?” Principal Morita raised an eyebrow at him. 

“She’s at work. She doesn’t get off for a while, so she probably won’t check her phone.” Peter offered, sinking a little further into his seat. Would they make him wait in some office all afternoon if she couldn’t come? He hoped they would still count today towards his three days.

“Hm,” Principal Morita looked back towards his screen. He looked hesitant, and again raised an eyebrow at Peter, but Peter didn’t really know what else to say. Morita sighed. “I’ll call your secondary contact.”

Peter paused. Secondary contact? Who was that? There wasn’t any other family, and he didn’t really think any neighbors would come all the way to Midtown to pick him up. Unless… it was Mr. Stark? But he wouldn’t come to Midtown, would he? No, he’d probably send Happy. Maybe that was who they were calling anyway: Happy. Yeah, Happy was probably his secondary contact.  

“Have you even got someone else to contact?” Flash whispered. “Who is it, your fairy godmother?” He snickered to himself, and then seemed to think of an even funnier joke. “Or better yet, Tony Stark?” 

Principal Morita’s eyes went a little wide when he heard that, but the phone line was already ringing. Someone picked up, and Principal Morita started talking. 

“Uh, hello, sir? Yes, this is the principal speaking. No, he’s fine. Well, not hurt. You see, he was in a bit of a fight. Yes. Well, he’s been suspended. Three days is the minimum punishment for fighting, but I’m counting today as the first day, since it was a very minor deal. Well, I called his primary contact first, but she didn’t pick up. Oh, he needs someone to check him out. Alright, excellent. Thank you, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Morita seemed somewhat surprised by the conversation, putting the phone down slowly and then staring at it for a moment. Peter worried. 

Overall, this week hadn’t gone nearly as terribly as Tony predicted. The fights had been minimal (although there had been some fights), they started training again without many hitches, and Tony felt… okay. It felt like the five of them were falling into some pattern, and although the trust wasn’t there, it felt like it could be one day. Rhodey had spent a little more time than usual at the Tower, trying to make sure that Tony was adjusting fine. Happy too had been around, trying his best to act like everything was the same as before. Today, Tony had managed to convince Rhodey that he could quit babying him, and Happy had taken the day off to visit his mother. Tony was managing through so far without the outside help. So he felt alright on Friday afternoon when he piled into the conference room with Nat, Clint, Steve, and Sam for a meeting.

“So, we’ve got a few things to cover. It’s my understanding that no one has heard from Wanda or Vision?” Steve began. Everyone shook their heads. Nat cut in, “I know they’re in Europe, and I know we’re unlikely to hear from them anytime soon. I doubt they’ll want to sign.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, we’ll keep up with that, but I don’t think that’s high priority right now. What about Scott Lang, heard from him?” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard from him,” Clint began. “You know, he lives in California with his family. He’s not so much reluctant to sign as… well, I think he’s worried we might expect more of him if he does. He doesn’t want to move his family out here or get wrapped up in something big.” That seemed reasonable to Tony. Clint had been hesitant because of his family too. In fact, Clint wasn’t going to be living at the Tower normally. He had spent this first week here to help everyone adjust, but after today, he was going back to living with his family upstate, and only coming for trainings and meetings some days. 

“That doesn’t have to happen. He can come up and sign and head right back to California if that’s what he wants. We just want everyone on the same page. Convince him, Barton.” Steve looked to Clint, who nodded. Then, Steve turned to Tony. 

“Okay, so, what about Spider-Man?”

Tony looked up at all of them, not sure how to approach this. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” he began. Steve sighed and shook his head, but Tony kept going. “Look, Spider-Man is just a young neighborhood guy. He stays in Queens, he doesn’t need to be a national level concern.”

“He was in Germany,” Sam cut in. 

“And in D.C. one time,” Nat added.

“Yeah, well, I brought him to Germany, and he shouldn’t have been there,” Tony dismissed. Germany wasn’t a great subject for them to bring up. “And he just happened to be in D.C. that one time. It’s not like he was looking for trouble.”

FRIDAY’s voice rang out. “Boss, you have an incoming call.”

“Send it to voicemail,” Tony waved the notification away. “Look, Spider-Man isn’t going to be signing, so-”

“Boss, the call is from Midtown School of Science and Technology.” 

The argument died on Tony’s lips, and everyone seemed to perk up with interest. “Uh, okay, yeah, send it to my phone.” Tony got up. “Sorry, I, uh, I have to take this.” Tony walked out of the room as the others started whispering. 

“Tony Stark. Hello?” Tony listened as Peter’s principal, Principal Morita, told him how Peter had been suspended for fighting. Not really Peter’s style to say this least. And now someone had to sign him out at school. May hadn’t responded to the call, probably at work. Without really thinking about it, Tony had told Morita that he’d come to get Peter. He was about to send Happy when he remembered that Happy had taken the day off. He thought about maybe sending another security worker, but although Happy might’ve been able to convince them to let Peter go with him, Tony doubted the school would let Peter go with some random Stark security guy. At least, he hoped they wouldn’t. Tony somewhat reluctantly started back to the conference room.

He popped his head in, “Hey, I have to go.” All the others looked up to him for a moment and then at each other. 

“We’re in the middle of a meeting,” Steve started. “We have a lot more to talk about.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll be back. We can start it up again in like 30 minutes. But this is more important, I have to go.”

They all looked at each other again, and Tony felt like he should just turn around and go now. But then Clint cut in. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” He sighed, “Yeah, but I got to go pick up Peter.” Stupid ‘trust-building.’ Stupid ‘letting them back into his life.’

“He okay?” Nat asked. 

“He’s fine, but he’s gonna be sitting in the principal’s office all day if you guys don’t let me go pick him up.”

There was another silence, but Tony noticed some smiles break out. Clint started, “You have to go pick up your not-son-just-an-intern from high school?”

“Damn, I wish I had a boss that sweet,” Sam chimed in. 

Steve scrunched his face in what Tony guessed was disappointment. “He’s in the principal’s office? Is he in trouble?”

Nat laughed. “Oh, no! Is he gonna be grounded?”

“Alright, that’s enough sharing. You guys are ridiculous. I’m leaving.” Tony turned around and started down the hallway. “He’s not my son!”

Peter and Flash had been sitting outside Principal Morita’s office for 15 or so minutes. They mostly sat in silence, since every time Flash started to say something the receptionist glared and started humming loud enough that Peter could barely hear his own thoughts. When she stepped into the principal’s office with a stack full of papers, Flash seized on his opportunity. “Do you think anyone’s even coming for you? Think you’ll be sitting out here all day or do you think they’ll send you to some office or something to wait? If you stay here the rest of the day, it shouldn’t count as one of your suspension days. You should have to be out until Thursday.”

Peter sighed, not in the mood for Flash’s teasing. “Yes, Flash, I think someone’s coming. Someone told Principal Morita they were coming, so someone must be coming.” 

Peter was really starting to worry about this whole thing. May was going to be so upset about it, and she might not want him going out as Spider-Man when he was supposed to be suspended, and now he was going to have two and a half more days of missed work to catch up on, and he definitely had to be ready for Decathlon next week because if he wasn’t Flash would never let him hear the end of it. It was like whenever he thought his week couldn’t get worse, that the universe decided to prove it could. 

“Are you kidding? You seriously don’t even know who’s coming to pick you up?” Flash sneered.

“You know what Flash, I’m not the only one sitting out here. Where’s your mom anyway?” Peter bit back. Maybe it was a little bit of a low blow, but it felt like Flash deserved it. 

“She’s coming,” was all Flash said. And then the receptionist came out of Morita’s office, humming loud and proud, and the conversation was over. Peter looked down at his feet, hoping Happy would show up soon, and not make him talk too much. Too busy feeling bad for himself, Peter missed the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming up to the receptionist. 

“Hi, I’m here for Peter Parker.” Peter’s head shot up. That was Tony’s voice. Tony’s voice, here, in his high school. Here, in his high school, right in front of Flash. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Flash’s head whip up and his jaw drop open. “Tony Stark,” Tony supplied, as if maybe the receptionist didn’t know. 

And maybe she didn’t, because she looked up at him fairly indifferently, despite the expensive suit and his signature sunglasses. “Hm, yes, Mr. Stark. You’ve gotta talk to Principal Morita, and then you and Peter can go.” Peter watched as she walked over to the office and called for Morita. He stepped out, eyes just a little too wide to be normal, and offered Tony his hand.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Then, he seemed to remember where he was and turned to Peter. “Well, not exactly pleasurable circumstances I suppose.” 

Peter stood up, because he felt like he was supposed to, but he was in a bit of a daze. Tony was here, in his school , standing in front of his principal, and some unamused receptionist, and Flash Thompson of all people. This was just so weird. He felt Tony’s hand come down on his shoulder, and he couldn’t see but he imagined Flash’s jaw had just fallen a few more inches. 

“Yeah, not awesome circumstances. This lovely lady said you needed to talk to me?” Tony pointed his head to indicate the receptionist who, despite her demur act, blushed a bit. Since Peter had started spending more time with Tony, he noticed more and more the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist act that people always loved about Tony Stark in public. 

“Oh, yes, well, just to review Peter’s situation. He got into a very minor fight, no injuries, but as we have a strict no-violence policy, both of the offending parties will be serving a three-day suspension. We’re counting today as the first day, so Peter can stay home Monday and Tuesday, and come back in on Wednesday. He won’t be punished in any other way, including Decathlon, so he can still compete next week.” Morita tried to train his glance back on Peter, but his eyes kept drifting back to Tony. “I expect you to stay out of trouble though, Peter. Peter’s always been a good student and a delight to have here at Midtown.” That’s not really what Peter recalled. In fact, Peter recalled being more of an irritation to Morita, and he recalled getting quite a few reprimands and even the occasional detention for everything from running in the halls to skipping class (for Spider-Man related activities). 

“Yeah, he’s a real delight,” Tony rushed. “Keep him home Monday and Tuesday, keep him out of trouble, is that all? Are we good to go?” 

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. You’re good to go.” Morita smiled again and Peter thought he looked a little awkward, shuffling his hands and his jacket. Morita looked around at Peter and Tony and Flash, and then clapped his hands and turned back towards his office. “Thank you!” He called, before slowly closing his office door. 

“Odd man,” Tony muttered and turned towards Peter. Peter was ready to sprint out of this building and this situation, but before he could say anything, Flash spoke.
“Hi, Mr. Stark. It’s, I’m… It’s very cool to meet you.” Flash looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to stick out his hand, and it’s probably a good thing he didn’t, Peter thought, judging by the semi-disgusted look on Tony’s face. Peter was a little impressed by his audacity. 

“The kid who this kid ,” Tony began, gesturing towards Peter, “got into a fight with? Yeah, I can’t say the same about you.” Peter was stuck between embarrassment and pure joy.

“Oh, it really wasn’t a big deal. No one was hurt or anything. I’m sorry, Peter.” Flash shrugged, and Peter felt like he forgot how to breathe. Did Flash Thompson really just say sorry? To him?!

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, I’m sorry too, Flash.” Peter stuttered. 

“Wait, Flash? This is that kid-” Tony began, but some noise came in from the front, and they turned to see Flash’s mom talking to the receptionist. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Tony muttered, but he had the restraint not to say anything else. 

“Come on, kid, let’s go.” Tony pulled Peter outside, but Peter’s brain was still stuck on Flash Thompson apologizing to him . 

One of Tony’s many expensive cars was sitting on the street outside the school, and as Tony got into the driver’s seat and Peter approached the passenger’s, he wondered briefly if Tony was gonna be mad at him. Or disappointed? What was your mentor/boss/superhero-role-model supposed to say when you got into a fight at school? Peter figured if he wasn’t the only person in the world with that kind of relationship, then he was probably the only one who had had that person pick him up from school . But despite the situation, Peter couldn’t shake the elated feeling from hearing Flash Thompson apologize to him. Not to mention it’d be a lot harder for Flash to tease him about his ‘fake internship’ now that Flash had seen Tony Stark pick him up from school. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, Peter’s brain registered a few moments too late that Tony had said something. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” Peter smiled at Tony. 

“Okay, kid. You’re a little too pleased for someone who just got a three-day suspension for fighting. Did that kid hit your head or something?” Tony was joking, Peter knew, but it was still a little embarrassing to have Ironman worried that Spider-Man got hurt in a school fight. 

“Yeah, it really wasn’t a fight fight. We barely touched each other. And I’m just… I just can’t believe Flash Thompson apologized to me. I think that’s maybe the first time in his life that Flash has ever said ‘I’m sorry.’ Like ever. It’s definitely the first time I’ve heard him say it.” 

Tony looked at Peter for a minute longer, then snickered and started the car. “Yeah, well,” he grinned at Peter over his sunglasses. “Being Tony Stark has its perks." 

Chapter Text

Peter had asked if Tony was taking him back to his apartment, but it was Friday, and Tony didn’t see the harm in letting him come over to the Tower and start lab time a little early. May wasn’t there anyway, so was it really better to leave Peter home alone all afternoon? He’d called May and left a message to let her know he got Peter from school and not to worry. 

Tony didn’t want to be pushy, but he felt like he was meant to say something. You weren’t supposed to pick a kid up from being suspended and not say anything about it. Tony drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, trying to figure out how to start the conversation. 

“So, uh, what’re you doing getting into a fight at school anyway? It’s not like you.”
Peter tilted his head and looked at him kind of funny. Tony knew he was teetering on the edge of the weird (but not super uncommon) precipice of sounding dad-like. 

“I, uh… Well, it was really Flash’s fault. He just loves to mess with me, and he’s always wanted my spot on the Decathlon Team - he’s the alternate - and I missed some practices because I was sick, and there’s a competition next week, and I guess he thought it was a good chance to steal my spot. So, he called some ‘emergency’ meeting at lunch to vote on whether I should have the spot or him, and everyone thought it was stupid, but he kept going on about how I wasn’t prepared enough, and then Ned said we should just vote on it at the next practice and go back to lunch, and Flash had to say some stupid thing about how ‘Of course Ned would want to go back to lunch,’ and I told him to just lay off, and then he pushed me and I guess it was just stress and instincts and I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I was going to hit him before I knew what was happening, but I pulled back and I ended up barely hitting him. Anyway, Mr. Harrington came in at that moment and he saw us fighting so we got sent to the office.” 

There was certainly a lot to register there. Tony always found it vaguely impressive how Peter could speak for minutes without taking a breath. He also made a mental note about the competition next week. “Hm. How come this Mr. Harrington guy wasn’t there to begin with? Seems like he should’ve been.”
“Well he was supposed to be,” Peter began. “Flash was supposed to wait until he got there to start the meeting. That’s why Mr. Harrington said he wasn’t going to consider giving Flash the spot anymore. Cause Flash didn’t wait for him.”

Well, that’s good, Tony thought. So Peter didn’t need to worry about losing his spot. 

“Well, it’s definitely a good thing you pulled that punch. I guess I can’t say I don’t want you to react when someone pushes you, but maybe we need to work a little more on separating Peter situations from Spider-Man situations, huh? Sounds like you kinda entered vigilante mode.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Peter shrunk down. “So, you’re not, like, mad?”
Tony paused. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t even really disappointed. But maybe he was supposed to be? He was sure May had more to say then him. “Well, I’m not thrilled that you got suspended. But I’m not gonna yell at you or something. I’m sure May will have some things to say.”

Peter sighed. His face shifted into a dejected grimace. “Yeah, she definitely will.”

“You did okay, kid,” Tony reached his arm over to squeeze Peter’s shoulder. “You pulled back, and no one got hurt. That’s what counts.”

Peter smiled as they walked into the Tower. He figured there would be more to get through once he had to face May, but now he was one awkward talk down, and he was pretty sure he was still gonna get lab time later. Now, Tony was testing him on random facts, in some attempt to make up for all the lost Decathlon practice.

“What’s the capital of Chile?” Tony asked, stepping into the elevator.
“Santiago.”
“It’s true! I’ve been there.” Peter smirked. Of course Tony had been there. Tony had been everywhere. 

“Who developed the rabies vaccine?”

“Louis Pasteur.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe? Seems right.”

Peter laughed, as the elevator stopped. Tony was looking down at his phone as he stepped onto the floor, so he didn’t stop like Peter did. “Who was Secretary of State during World War II?”

Peter vaguely registered someone else giving a response.“Ooh, I know this one.” 

Peter was still standing in the open elevator, staring out at the Avengers. Somehow, he’d completely forgotten that they were even at the Tower, and although Tony hadn’t initially noticed, Peter spotted the group as soon as the elevator doors opened. Maybe if his brain had caught up by now, he might’ve laughed at the idea that Tony had just asked him a World War II trivia question in front of the most famous World War II soldier. 

Tony looked around, noticing they were on the Avengers floor. “How the hell did we get to this floor? FRIDAY, why are we on this floor?”

“Your elevator is set to automatically go to the penthouse unless otherwise instructed, Boss,” FRIDAY offered. 

“Uh huh, and I did not otherwise instruct you!”

FRIDAY paused. “The protocol does not stipulate that you must be the one to give the instructions. Miss Romanoff made the request.”

The Miss Romanoff in question spoke up, eyes trained on Peter and completely ignoring Tony. “Hello, Peter.”

Peter stepped out of the elevator, feeling stupid. Here he was, silent and jaw-dropped, standing in front of 4 superheroes (5, if you count Tony). His brain reminded him of how stupid Flash had looked just a little while ago, standing jaw-dropped in front of Tony Stark, and Peter quickly shut his mouth. He realized he’d been addressed. 

“Oh, uh, hi. Hi, uh, Miss Romanoff.” Peter replied, using the same name that FRIDAY had supplied. Miss Romanoff - or Black Widow - smiled at him. 

“Excuse me,” Tony cut in indignantly. “Aren’t you all supposed to be in a meeting?”

“Well, we had to stop because of you,” Steve replied. “Besides, we wanted to meet your kid.”

Peter felt his cheeks turn red. “Me? Uh, wait, I’m not, uh…” Peter wasn’t really sure if they meant ‘kid’ as in son , but that’s what it sounded like. Why did they want to meet him anyway? “I’m just an intern. But it’s, uh, very cool to meet you guys.” Peter looked at Tony, questioningly. Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Intern. Intern. Peter Parker, the intern,” Tony came around behind Peter and put his hands on his shoulders. “Avengers, meet the intern. Intern, I guess you’re meeting the Avengers.”

Peter looked past Black Widow and Captain America, and saw Hawkeye standing in the background. He smiled. “You’ve got your bow this time.”

Hawkeye, or Mr. Barton, smirked. “Yeah, kid. The rigging’s broken. Tony’s been telling us how you’re just his intern , and I figured if you really are just some super smart, high-school intern, you wouldn’t have any problem fixing this.” Mr. Barton threw him the bow, and Peter reached his hands out just in time to catch it. 

Tony started, “Okay, okay, he doesn’t have to do some stupid test. Come on guys, just lay off of this-”

“Oh, I can fix this easy.” Peter looked down at the bow, and the problem really was something he could easily fix. He’d worked on Avengers weapons often enough in the lab with Tony. Besides, he wasn’t so worried about them thinking he was Tony’s kid, but he didn’t want them to be suspicious of him. If this would make them feel better around him, he was happy to do it. He looked up at Tony for confirmation. 

“Okay, yeah, I guess. I guess, sure, if you want to.” Tony shrugged, falling into one of the kitchen chairs. “Clearly, I have no control over this situation.” 

Peter walked over to the drawer against the wall, grabbing some tools. He put the bow down on the counter and began fixing it. Miss Romanoff and Mr. Barton followed him over, with Captain America and the Falcon close behind.

Peter could feel Mr. Barton’s breath as he watched over his shoulder. 

Tony slumped into his seat. Was he happy to have the Avengers back? Seemed like they'd taken over his Tower. Since when did FRIDAY listen to Nat? And now they had his intern in their grasps. 

Tony listened from his seat as Nat began asking Peter questions, “Okay, so, how’d a high-schooler end up with an internship at Stark Industries?”

Peter kept his eyes focused on fixing Clint’s bow, which Tony knew was a good thing, because the kid in an undistracted state would not handle an interrogation well. “Competition. We had to submit videos and stuff. They picked one high-schooler for the internship.”

Nat raised a skeptical eyebrow at Tony. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

He shrugged. “Not my idea. PR stunt. But, you know, it worked out well.”
Peter looked up at him and smiled, then looked back down at his work.
“What sorts of intern things do you do?” Sam looked over at Peter and Clint’s bow, a little confused and maybe impressed. “You get coffee and stuff? Make copies?”

Tony scoffed. The idea of Peter somehow using a coffee machine. 

“No,” Peter replied. “Mostly, lab time. We work on different robots and stuff. Sometimes we work on your stuff.”

“Our stuff?” Steve cut in. “Like our tech? Weapons?”

“Sure,” Peter shrugged. “How do you think I knew how to fix this?” He gestured to Clint’s bow. 

Clint started waving his hands, and Tony noticed his eyebrows were all scrunched up. “Wait, hold up. I thought you were like a personal intern. If you work in the labs, how come you’re always hanging around up here?” 

Peter stopped his work for a second, and looked at Clint confused. He seemed to realize something. “Oh, no, I don’t work in, like, the intern labs. I work in Tony’s lab. With Tony.”

Peter returned his gaze to his work. The Avengers, on the other hand, all looked towards Tony, most eyebrows raised. 

“What?” Tony threw up his arms in defense. “I can work with people!”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Uh huh, yeah, you’re a pro at it.”

“Is this not the same dude who won’t even let other people hand him shit?” Sam asked. Tony had to wonder how he knew that.
Peter again looked confused. “He lets me hand him stuff all the time.”

Alright, red lights. Too personal. Tony hoped someone would change the topic. 

Luckily, Steve cut in again, “How come you’re home from school early? You don’t look like you’re sick anymore.”

Peter paled a bit, and Tony saw his straight face turn into a frown. “I, uh, got suspended. For fighting.”

“Fighting?” Sam seemed incredulous. “You sure don’t seem like a fighter, kid. But you don’t have a black eye or something, so what’d you do to the other kid?”

“What? Nothing, it was barely a fight. I was just… I was just defending a friend. Besides, Flash pushed me first.”

Tony watched Steve shake his head, which aggravated him. What right did Steve have to judge him? “Fighting isn’t the answer to that. There’s always another way.”

Tony was ready to cut in and defend Peter, or change the topic at least. He was ready, at least, before he saw Peter grin with a bit of a mischievous look in his eye. He turned his head towards Steve. “Save me the lecture, Cap. I’ve seen the PSAs.”

Tony’s ears perked up. PSAs? And now Steve was pink and frowning. 

“PSAs? Tell me we’ve just stumbled on some quality blackmail material.” Tony raised his eyebrows. Peter looked at Steve, but Steve remained silent, looking very much like he wanted to turn invisible. Peter laughed. 

“They show them all the time at school.” Pete lowered his voice and puffed up his chest to imitate Steve. “‘So, you got a detention…’”

Nat moved closer to Peter. “That’s hilarious. Tell me all about them.”

Peter smiled, enjoying the attention. “There’s one for puberty too.”

“What?! How could we be in the dark about this?” Clint joined in. Sam laughed along. Steve’s face turned redder by the minute. 

“Okay, okay, it’s funny, sure. Laugh it up.” He grumbled. “They paid me for those though.”

“FRIDAY, please tell me we have access to those?” Tony looked up to his ceiling with hopeful eyes. 

“Yes, a number of the Captain America high school PSAs are on YouTube. Would you like me to pull one up?”

Tony was about to shout a triumphant yes, when Steve interrupted. 

“No! Cut it out, Stark, that’s enough.”

Tony frowned. Last names meant trouble. 

Sam stepped up and put his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants. That’s probably enough torture for now. No, thanks, FRIDAY.” But Sam turned towards Tony, mouthed ‘save it for later,’ and winked. Tony had to admit he was warming up to Sam. 

“Next question. Who’s your favorite Avenger?” Nat changed the subject. 

“Oh, easy.” Peter grinned. “Dr. Banner.”

Tony shot up. “What?! You haven’t even met him!”

“Yeah, but he’s like the coolest scientist ever. They have a picture of him in my physics classroom.” Peter kept his eyes on his work, but Tony could see his sassy grin growing. 

Tony made a time-out symbol with his hands. “Wait a minute. He’s your favorite Avenger and your favorite scientist? What does that make me?”

“A weird old rich dude who feeds me and gives me a ride home from school sometimes?” Peter looked up, grinning from ear-to-ear. What a little shit. 

“ Old?! ” Tony shrieked. 

“I like this kid,” Nat clapped Peter on the shoulder. 

“How come he did pick you up from school, though? Seems like a weird thing for a boss to do,” Clint asked. 

“Well, they called my aunt first. But she’s working, and she can’t usually look at her phone in the middle of a shift.” Peter shrugged. “And well, I guess Tony’s my emergency contact.”

The rest of the room looked at Tony, who just shrugged. “What do you expect me to do, leave the kid on his own? I’m not that cruel.” Tony glared at Peter. “Unlike some people. ‘ Weird old rich dude ,’” he grumbled. The others looked willing to dispute the matter of cruelness, but Steve had another question. 

“You live with your aunt?” 

“Yeah.” Peter looked back down at his work, hiding his face. A silence followed that he wasn’t unused to. An unasked question lingered. He sighed. “My parents died when I was little.”

Tony grimaced. More silence followed, but at least that was better than apologies. 

“You know,” Clint began. “I think this kid really isn’t a secret Stark. He’s too likable.”

“I totally agree,” Nat nodded. “I think Tony just took on a weird mentorship role and went totally overboard.” Okay, totally overboard seemed like an exaggeration to Tony.

“You know, it’s like sports movies where the coach is super overbearing and attention-seeking.” Sam added. Tony let out an offended, “Hey!”

“Finished!” Peter shouted and popped his head up. He smiled and presented the bow to Clint. “Good as new, Mr. Barton.”

Clint grabbed the bow and examined it. He smiled and looked up at Peter, “Thanks, kid, this is great. And you can call me Clint.”

Later, Peter and Tony spent the night working in the lab. After a little more - for lack of a better word - bonding, and after examining quite a few of those Captain America PSAs, Tony had managed to pull Peter away from the Avengers so that they could get some work done and maybe Peter could finally relax. Now, they were sitting in the lab, working on a little robot of Peter’s creation that would lift his fork for him when he was too tired to move but also hungry. Which seemed like it might be the case right now. Tony watched as Peter put his head down on the work table. 

“I can’t believe the Avengers really thought I was your son. So crazy.” Peter’s words were stifled by a yawn. Tony laughed. 

“Yeah, they’re a crazy bunch. I guess I’m glad you got to meet them, though. They’ll be around all the time, and maybe now they’ll finally stop bugging me about you. Although, that doesn’t seem super likely.” Tony sighed. 

“I can’t believe I met the Avengers. And hung out with the Avengers. And Ironman picked me up at school,” Peter frowned. “And I got into a fight. And I got suspended. And I have so much extra work now.” He yawned again and closed his eyes. 

“Worry about it later, kid.” Tony’s eyes softened, and before he knew it he was running a hand through Peter’s hair. But Peter just smiled and moved a little closer to him. 

Tony saw his phone light up with a text from May, and with his other hand, he opened it. 

Next time you pick up our delinquent because of a suspension, at least ground him to his room instead of lab time.

Tony laughed. Of course she would somehow know they were in the lab.  

Also, I’m loving the image of Tony Stark walking into Midtown High to sign out a teenager. Very domestic of you. 

Thanks for taking care of him. 

Peter shifted a little. “You know that you’re really my favorite Avenger, right?”

Tony laughed lightly. He wondered at how he got to feeling so content in life. “Yeah, kid. I know.” 

He typed out a reply to May. 

That’s what I’m here for.