Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Friday, 11:00 AM

Nick Fury was not a man who was often surprised. In fact, he could probably count on one hand how many times he had felt such an emotion during his career.

But Carol Danvers appearing in his office on a random Friday morning with no warning was enough of an anomaly to make it onto that list. Given that he hadn’t seen her in well over two decades and all.

To his own internal credit, he did a good job reigning in his reaction at the sight of her. 

“Danvers,” he greeted, tone intentionally mild. Her mouth tilted into a small smile.

“Fury,” she responded in turn. He scanned her, taking in the changes in her appearance. There really weren’t many; she was near-identical to how she’d looked twenty years ago. Fury could not say the same of himself. Such was the benefit of having alien powers, he supposed.

“I trust you’re not just here to say hello?” he asked wryly. She shook her head.

“There’s a big problem with the infinity stones,” she started, and Fury was immediately reminded of why he’d liked her. Someone not afraid to jump right in without all the pointless verbal meandering and platitudes. “A being named Thanos is trying to collect them in order to kill half of all life in the universe in order to restore ‘balance’ and prevent overcrowding. Thus far, he’s been doing it manually— using his army to travel to planets and killing half of their population randomly. But that isn’t fast or efficient enough for him, so he’s going after the stones.”

Fury pressed his lips together and templed his fingers in front of him. That, needless to say, was not a good sign. The Tesseract had been enough of a problem without mixing more unpredictability in the form of more stones.

“And you know he’s going after them now?” he confirmed, though he already knew she wouldn’t be here otherwise. Danvers nodded.

“I captured his daughter, two years ago— one of them, at least. Her name is Nebula. She is very… insistent. And loyal to him, despite the fact that he’s made seemingly no efforts to look for her. But she is intent on spreading his message— that half of the universe needs to be decimated— and it’s apparently no secret that he’s looking for the stones. She hasn’t told me much else other than what is apparently common knowledge, and I doubt I’ll get more out of her. She’s stubborn.”

Fury hummed in agreement, already partially lost in thought. It would be difficult to prevent this ‘Thanos’ from collecting all of the stones, given how woefully underprepared they had been in regards to the Tesseract and the Chitauri. Though it would seem they had no other option, since allowing him to collect more stones certainly wouldn’t increase their chances of preventing his mission. Carol continued speaking, drawing his attention back to her.

“I came back to Earth, two years ago, when I first found out. I wanted to survey the stones on this planet before looking into the rest of them.”

“You were on Earth and didn’t stop by to say hello then ?” Fury finally spoke, tone dry, arching an eyebrow as he did.

“I was trying to be subtle. Still not my strongest suit.”

At that, he felt his mouth flicker in a faint smile. Yeah, he remembered that much about her.

“Though, speaking of which, that’s why I’m here,” she continued. “The stones are all heavily guarded with the intention of protecting against entire armies. Sheer brute force won’t work, so stealth is the most important part.” Carol paused again, glancing at him. “You can see why I’m not particularly suited to gather them myself.” Her tone was wry; had the circumstances been less dire, it could have perhaps passed as a lighthearted joke. Fury leaned back in his chair. 

“So you’re coming here to ask me to pick someone to help you collect the stones?” he summarized. Carol nodded in agreement.

“I can brief them on what I’ve learned, but I cannot accompany them. It needs to be someone who is skilled and stealthy enough to pull off heists, and smart and quick on their feet. Though being enhanced would certainly be a plus factor, just from a sheer durability standpoint.” She paused. “I know you have a team put together, and access to other superheroes here on Earth. I need someone who would be fit for the job, as well as someone who is trustworthy enough not to use the stones for their own benefit once they have them in their possession.” She shook her head. “I know a few people who have the skills required, but I can’t trust them like that.”

Fury gave a long-suffering sigh. There was only one person he knew for sure checked every single box on that list. “I know someone.”

~ ~ ~

Friday, 3:00 PM

“And don’t forget the brownies!” MJ called out sternly over the phone.

“I know, I know,” Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “I won’t forget the brownies. I’ve already bought the box mix and everything.” He hadn’t bought the milk or eggs yet, but he’d get to that after class.

“Good,” his girlfriend responded, sounding somewhat mollified. “We’re getting there at 10:00 AM Sunday morning to set up on the main walkway. Don’t be late.” She was putting on a bake sale to fundraise for the arts program; in her words, it was dramatically underfunded compared to the likes of its STEM counterparts. Technically, MJ wasn’t even an arts major; she was in journalism, but still hellbent on fighting for every cause she believed in.

“Aye aye, captain,” he said. (It was a habit he’d picked up during senior year, during her days of being the Decathlon team captain, and it had stuck, even after nearly two years into college.)

“I’m not your captain anymore, nerd.” There was the sound of scuffling and a few hushed murmurs in the background, before MJ’s voice crackled through his phone speakers again. “Ugh. These people are being stupid, I’ve got to go deal with them. I’ll call you back later.”

At that, Peter laughed again. He pitied the poor suckers who had just incited his girlfriend’s full attention. “Bye, MJ. Love you.”

“Love you too, dork.” She was unable to stop the fondness from leaking into her tone, even through her annoyance, before the click of the line signified the end of the call.

Before Peter could even slide his phone back into his pocket, it let out a ding , notifying him a new text, and he glanced down at it.

Flash: Hey man— Cindy, Abe, and I are on break starting tomorrow, and heading back into the city. Decathlon meetup?

He felt the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile. After the whole HYDRA incident and Flash’s apology, they’d managed to stay on amicable terms. Peter couldn’t help but be mildly surprised by it every time they actually met up as a group, but he much preferred this to the alternative. Even now, they’d still managed to maintain their friendly streak, and had “Decathlon meetups” every so often. (Which was really just a code word for everyone who had managed to figure out he was Spider-Man during the HYDRA stint.) Flash, Abe, and Cindy had headed off to MIT, while Peter and Ned had gone to Columbia, and MJ to NYU.

Peter had tried to convince Ned to go to MIT with the rest of their classmates; after all, he himself had agonized over the decision for weeks. He hadn’t expected to get into both MIT and Columbia— even with his grades, the college admission process was still a gamble. He also hadn’t wanted Tony to pull any strings to get him into MIT, though he wasn’t fully sure whether the man had done so anyways.

In the end, he’d decided to go to Columbia for a biochemistry degree. While it wasn’t MIT, it did allow Peter to continue being Spider-Man, and kept him closer to May and the Avengers. Both Tony and his aunt had insisted that he shouldn’t let that be the deciding factor in where he went to college, but Peter knew that when it came down to it, Spider-Man was an integral part of him. He couldn’t just turn it off, especially for four years— and if Spider-Man suddenly started fighting crime in Massachusetts, it would be fairly easy to figure out his identity and age just from the timing of it.

Plus, NYC was his home, and his family was here. That hadn’t stopped him from trying to use the same argument on Ned; after all, plenty of friends held up their long-distance relationships over college, and Boston wasn’t that far away.

—

“Ned, you shouldn’t go to Columbia just because I’m deciding to stay here,” Peter protested, looking at his best friend. “We’ve been thinking about MIT our whole lives, I don’t want you to give that up just because I’m deciding differently.”

Ned was silent for a few moments, before raising his eyes and meeting Peter’s gaze. “Peter, it was never really about MIT. I mean, yeah, it’s MIT . But the appeal was always about the fact that I would be doing it with you. I’m your Guy in the Chair, always.” He paused before smiling. “Plus, Columbia isn’t too shabby, you know.”

—

After that point, Peter hadn’t bothered to argue any more— Columbia was a good school, after all, and he certainly liked being able to see his best friend every day.

Glancing back at the phone gripped loosely in his hand, he realized he still had to respond to Flash’s message.

Peter: Sounds good, MJ is putting on a bake sale Sunday so you might want to bring some treats to give yourself some leeway

Flash: Noted

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Peter huffed in amusement. While he had fully forgiven Flash for the years of bullying, MJ and Ned (moreso MJ) were not nearly as lenient. MJ tolerated it, but always seemed to want to test Flash on his intentions every time they all met up. As such, Peter knew that bringing baked goods to donate to her fundraiser would give Flash about a week in her good graces. Probably. 

Peter thought it was all quite unnecessary, and had told her as much— it had been three years since Flash stopped bullying him, and he really didn’t hold a grudge. He’d faced far worse than being called ‘penis,’ and Flash really had seemed to change for the better. MJ insisted that it was the principle of the matter, and that she wouldn’t do it forever— she was just making sure that he faced some sort of consequence for his actions. Her idea of ‘consequences’ entailed forcing Flash to help her with any protest or social awareness event she was currently leading or organizing. She said it was to offset his years of being an asshole; karmic retribution or something like that. Which really, Peter supposed it wasn’t actually that bad of a punishment, and Flash seemed willing enough to partake every time. He had a hunch that MJ was planning on holding her grudge for at least the same number of years that Flash had been a bully for— and given that they were coming up on just over three years, he figured that the gig would be up soon enough.

He was disrupted from his train of thought as his phone rang again less than a few minutes after he had tucked it away, and he glanced down at it with a raised eyebrow. Man, he was popular today. Upon seeing the name on his screen, his face split into a devious grin.

“Mr. Sta-aaark ,” he answered in a fake sing-songy tone, grinning even wider as he did so. About a year ago, he’d slipped up from calling his mentor ‘Mr. Stark’ and had accidentally called him ‘Tony.’ Which, frankly, he was surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner, given that he referred to him as ‘Tony’ in his internal monologue most of the time. Still, May had raised him to treat adults with respect, so he’d tried to backtrack his slip-up. Tony had shut that attempt down very quickly; he’d been trying to get Peter to call him by his name since the day they met.

—

“Ugh,” Tony said, faking a shudder. “Nuh-uh, we are not reverting back to the ‘Mr. Stark’ stage. You graduated to calling me Tony, there’s no turning back now. Can’t go back to kindergarten after graduating elementary school.”

Peter snorted, amused. “You still call me kid,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, and that’s not going to ever change. I have seniority.”

“Oh, you have seniority all right,” Peter muttered cheekily. Tony shot him a look and pointed a stern finger at him.

“Watch it, kid, or I’m selling your suit on eBay.”

—

Every time since then, he made a point of calling him ‘Mr. Stark’ just to annoy him. He was sure his mentor didn’t actually mind, but it was fun to argue about absolutely meaningless things, and both of them were just as stubborn as the other.

On the other end of the line, Tony gave a long-suffering sigh. “You’re a little shit, you know that right?” he said, and Peter grinned even more. “I was going to offer for you to come to the Tower after you finish your classes to try and work on those nano-bots some more, but I guess I’ll retract that offer.”

“I’ll be there in three hours,” Peter responded cheerfully, ignoring Tony’s threat; both of them knew he didn’t mean it. Peter was pretty sure he spent more hours in the Tower than he did in his own dorm room; though that wasn’t a very high bar, given that he was usually either in class or Spider-Manning anyways. Recently, he and Tony had been trying to work on developing nano-bots in order to incorporate them into a new Iron Man suit, and perhaps even a new version of the Spider-Man suit. Hypothetically, if they managed to succeed, the nanites would allow for increased protection from bullets while maintaining his ability to be flexible. Which— given the number of times he found himself shot at on a weekly basis— would be useful.

Plus, ‘Iron Spider’ sounded like a pretty cool name for a suit. Not that Peter was going to let Tony know he thought that. His mentor needed to be humbled occasionally.

On the other end of the line, Tony sighed once more. “Yeah, alright,” he grumbled. “Have fun in biochem, or… whatever you have now.” 

Peter couldn’t help the soft smile as he heard the words. He knew perfectly well that his mentor knew his exact schedule every single semester by heart— he didn’t do a very good job of pretending like he didn’t.

“I can hear you smirking on the other end of the line, kid,” Tony said.

Peter chuckled. “Who, me? Never.” Tony let out a disbelieving scoff. Glancing up, Peter saw that he’d arrived at his dorm. Checking the time, it looked like he had forty-five minutes before he had to be in class; plenty of time to pick up his books and get to class with time to spare. Barring any world-ending events, of course. (He would soon find that he should not have tried his luck with that statement). “Bye, Tony. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Bye, Pete.”

~ ~ ~

Nick Fury, Peter thought, was a physical manifestation of his Parker Luck. Every time the man reappeared to talk to him he was bearing bad news, usually of the world-ending variety.

“You know, it’s generally considered bad form to break into peoples’ apartments,” Peter said, not fazed in the slightest by Fury’s unannounced presence.

The man in question sighed and stood up from where he’d been sitting in the shadowed corner like some freaky gargoyle. He seemed almost disappointed that Peter hadn’t been startled (really, Peter was offended by that, given that Fury was all about drilling the ‘first lesson’ into him for nearly a whole year). Peter made his way through the small front hallway towards the kitchen, tossing out words over his shoulder.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I’m a broke college student so your options are tap water or… expired milk.” Peter opened his sadly empty fridge and wrinkled his nose at the sight. 

Tony would have given him money for groceries if he had asked (in fact, he downright insisted on it every time Peter set foot near him), but he already felt weird enough using his mentor’s college fund for Columbia tuition. Not to mention the fact that every time he was at the Tower he consumed a ridiculous amount of food, so really, it all balanced out. Plus, he was a 20 year old college guy— being broke was part of the experience. Call it character development.

“I’ll survive without,” Fury deadpanned.

“Right. Well, if you’re here to make me fake my death again for one of your schemes, you’re outta luck, Nicky. I have class in thirty minutes, a biochem midterm on Monday that I can’t skip, and a bake sale my girlfriend is putting on that I do not intend to miss.” 

Peter leaned against the countertop, posture deliberately casual, before staring the director down. Fury scowled at the nickname but didn’t bother to put up an argument. He’d apparently learned when to pick and choose his battles with him, and clearly this was not one of them he felt he could win. Which meant he was here to ask Peter a favor. 

What a surprise. Peter had almost thought he was just here to catch up and see how he was doing, purely out of the goodness of his heart. (He couldn’t even think through that sentence without almost laughing at how out of character it sounded).

“I’m bringing brownies,” he tacked on, when the silence stretched for a few seconds.

“The brownies will have to wait.”

“You don’t just tell MJ to wait ,” Peter emphasized. “I’m not one of your agents anymore.” (If he ever really was.) “It’s going to have to be something a little more important than that, for me to risk death via girlfriend.”

“How about the death of half the universe?” Fury asked flatly.

“Jeez. Melodramatic much?”

Fury’s expression didn’t change.

Peter sighed, even as a pit gathered in his stomach. Call him pessimistic, but he had a distinct feeling that he would not be making it to the bake sale on Sunday. Or his biochem midterm. Or the review class session in twenty-five minutes to review for said biochem midterm. Which was unfortunate, because he actually liked that class. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it this time?”

“Infinity stones,” Fury responded, tucking his hands behind his back. “Ever heard of them?”

Peter shot him a side eye, crossing his own arms across his chest. “Sounds like something you’d find in a New Age shop. Can’t say I have.”

“Six elemental stones that, when collected, grant the user near-omnipotent power.” Fury peered at him closely. “An old friend of mine— Carol Danvers— has been collecting information on them for the past two years, upon discovering that an alien named Thanos is planning on collecting all of the stones in order to wipe out half of the universe.”

Peter blinked. “They can just do that?” he asked, too thrown for a moment to come up with a better response. Fury nodded shortly.

“They are incredibly dangerous in the hands of the wrong person. Thanos is obsessed with ‘restoring balance,’ and believes that wiping out half of a planet’s population will stop overcrowding and resource exhaustion. He has already been using his army to fulfill his mission, by targeting half of a planet’s population and then exterminating them. He seeks the stones in order to expand his goal to the entire universe.”

Peter pursed his lips. He’d hoped that Fury had been exaggerating with the whole ‘death of half of the universe’ comment, but it seemed that he unfortunately wasn’t. 

“So where do I come into play?” he asked, not even bothering to pretend like he wouldn’t help; not with what was at stake.

“As I mentioned, Danvers has been collecting information on the stones for the past two years. Four of the stones are off-planet, and the other two are on Earth. None of us have the sheer battle power required to fight for the stones, and their protectors won’t just give them up if we ask. Danvers is powerful, but not stealthy in the slightest, so she came to me for assistance in finding someone who is skilled enough to collect the stones without a fight.”

At that, he stopped and looked at Peter, and the implication was clear: that someone was supposed to be Peter himself. And really, it wasn’t surprising in the slightest— given that the man had been the one to train him for months on sneaking in and out of HYDRA bases in order to acquire the ‘disk’ without a fight.

Glancing over, Peter saw the remnants of the last time he’d gotten involved with Fury’s gambles. Two gray marble headstones, adorned with his name, were propped up against the wall. While he was in the bunker training for the HYDRA mission, he’d sort of realized, logically, that he would have a headstone. But seeing it in person once he got back was an eerie feeling.

Plus, two of them? That just felt excessive, even though he understood the reasoning behind it.

Tony had wanted to get rid of them, and he’d dug them up out of the ground and prepared to ship them off to some sort of junkyard to get incinerated or something. While Peter understood the sentiment of not wanting to be reminded of his ‘death’, he’d secretly snuck them away from their fiery fate to instead store them in his room. He knew his lifespan prediction as a 20-year-old crime-fighting vigilante was lower than the national average, and even though his mentor was quite literally a billionaire, Peter didn’t like letting two perfectly good gravestones go to waste. He’d be dead anyways by the time they used them again, so what did it matter if they were reused or not?

He didn’t really know how they would fix the matter of the ‘death date’ on the stone, but if it were him, he’d just tell them to cross it out with a sharpie or something. Really, who needed an accurate death date anyways? He certainly didn’t need another gravestone, and nothing else would change on the inscription except for that. Two already felt like overkill. Unfortunately, he realized that even if he put that in his will, Tony would almost certainly disregard it in favor of spending more money on him. Which, though Peter appreciated the sentiment, really thought was quite unnecessary. (And unfortunately, even at his relatively young age, Peter was well aware of the cost of funerals).

Upon further reflection, Peter realized that it was probably rather morbid of him, as a 20 year old, to be thinking about his death in this much detail. Then again, 20 year old men already had the highest cost of insurance, and that didn’t even account for the whole swinging-around-NYC-in-a-super-suit-and-fighting-crime factor. Not that Peter could afford insurance anyways.

Tearing his eyes away from the headstones, Peter realized he still hadn’t responded to Fury. “So you want me to collect the other stones,” he guessed— though it was more a statement than a question. Fury gave a short nod in response, and Peter sighed aloud as another thought occurred to him. “And let me guess: you don’t want to tell the Avengers?” 

He knew the Avengers didn’t particularly qualify as ‘stealthy’— plus, if Fury had been fine with the Avengers knowing, he wouldn’t personally show up to Peter’s apartment. He would have just passed the message through one of his teammates.

Fury nodded again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know me well, Parker,” he said calmly. Coming from him, that was practically glowing praise.

“You’re predictable in this regard,” Peter responded dryly. “To be clear, though— I’m not faking my death again.” That was one thing he wasn’t compromising on; it was unnecessary, and he refused to put his family through that again. Not to mention they would have a hard time believing it a second time around. 

Fury shrugged. “No need to do that this time,” he responded. “Once you’re off-planet they won’t be able to track you down to follow you, and I’ll explain the situation to them at that point.”

At that, Peter sighed. Both of them knew his decision was already made. “Alright,” he agreed, giving a morose glance at the clock. “Let me grab some things and then we can go.”

Unfortunately, he did not end up making it to class that afternoon.

—

They left Peter’s dorm in Fury’s car and made their way out of the city, towards upstate New York. At some point along the way they pulled into the driveway of a small, unassuming building that appeared to be one of Fury’s safehouses (seriously, the man seemed to have an endless number of them). Peter followed the director inside, where there was already one person waiting for them.

“Peter Parker, meet Captain Marvel.” Fury swept one hand towards a blonde-haired woman in a red, blue, and gold suit standing in the main room. “Danvers, meet Peter Parker.”

Peter stared at her, all pretenses of the mission abandoning his mind momentarily. He recognized her.

“Caroline?” he asked, gaping, and she tilted her head and blinked at him. Within a few seconds, the momentary confusion cleared from her gaze, and her eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “Just call me Carol.”

“You two… have met?” Fury asked, eyebrows arched impossibly high.

Peter huffed a disbelieving laugh. Seriously, what were his chances? “Two years ago, right before Tony gave me my new Spider-Man suit after the whole HYDRA takedown, I heard a shout right when I got out of school. I ran to it and found her getting mugged by some guy, but I managed to stop him and we talked for a bit until the police got there.” He paused and turned back to her as a thought occurred to him. “Though… I’m just guessing you didn’t actually need my help.”

Carol looked amused. “No, but I figured screaming for help was a more inconspicuous option than incinerating him with a plasma blast. And I was trying not to blow my cover.”

“Yeah, that... Ahem . Would be notable,” he said, clearing his throat. Plasma blasts? He was definitely going to ask her about that later. “How’s your cat— Goose, right?”

She seemed briefly surprised that he’d remembered that, before inclining her head slightly in a nod. “She’s good, as usual.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted their conversation, and both of them looked over to Fury, who looked distinctly displeased at being left out of the conversation. Clearly he did not like being caught off guard by surprise; though really, it was a taste of his own medicine.

“Danvers will brief you on what you’ll encounter on your mission, and will set you up with some initial supplies you’ll need.” Fury jumped right back into the original topic as though they’d never gotten off-track. “As for what you’ll wear, we still have your suit from the HYDRA takedown. Make a few adjustments and it should be good to go.”

“Actually,” Peter started, unable to help the shit-eating grin he knew was plastered over his face. “I have that part covered.” 

He hadn’t been quite naive enough to believe that Fury would never come back and try to drag him on a mission. The suit Fury had made for him had its advantages over the normal Spider-Man suit, but one thing it didn’t have was Karen, and Peter really didn’t want to have to do another mission without her. Don’t get him wrong, he was perfectly capable of it, but it also helped to have someone to talk to that wasn’t Director Eye-patch. So he’d made a near-replica of the stealth suit— with a couple of his own adjustments, of course. He’d stuffed it into his backpack along with a few other things before he’d left his dorm with Fury. 

Plus, it just felt nice to be one step ahead of the director for once.

Fury narrowed his eye at him critically. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “Danvers will fly you up to her ship just outside of Earth’s orbit, where she’ll brief you. You’ll stay up there and get settled in for a few hours while she comes back down to Earth to explain the situation to the Avengers.”

“What, you can’t handle breaking the news to the Avengers on your own?” Peter asked with a small smirk. Fury gave him a displeased glance. 

“They’ll be more likely to listen to someone other than me regarding the seriousness of the situation.” His voice was sour at the admission. Peter shrugged— he had a point there. There had never been much goodwill between Fury and the team, and even less so after Fury had faked Peter’s death and kept it from them for eight months. He doubted they would take well to this news either.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “But I’m writing goodbye notes to them to explain the situation in my own words.” After all, the director was not the most… gentle of individuals, in terms of breaking delicate news. (Such as the fact that Peter was in space on yet another life-threatening mission).

Fury raised a single eyebrow, before reaching into his trenchcoat wordlessly and pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. Peter held back a sigh— of course the man had already anticipated this. (He still wanted to know how those trenchcoat pockets seemed to store everything).

“I suggest you get writing, then.”

~ ~ ~

Friday, 4:45 PM

Fury, as usual, seemed to have the capability of moving impossibly fast when arranging secret missions. Though Peter supposed that was the benefit of having an entire intelligence agency and its supplies at your disposal. Still, just an hour and a half ago he’d still been planning to attend class. Now, he was standing at the base of the steps of a small spaceship, about to take a trip out of Earth’s orbit. (He couldn’t believe his life sometimes).

As Carol made her way up the steps of the ship, he turned to Fury.

“For the record, if you lie to them and tell them I’m dead again, I’ll feed you to some random aliens myself.” Peter warned, staring straight at Fury. 

The director had told him that there was no reason to lie to the Avengers about him being alive or not— so long as he left the planet without them knowing, so that they wouldn’t try to stop him. After all, once he was in space, they wouldn’t really be able to find him and drag him back, since he’d be on a stealth mission yet again. Plus, Peter had explained the situation in his notes to them and his friends, so as long as Fury delivered them as he said he would, his family and team would know the full story.

Peter really did not trust that the man would necessarily keep his word if he had some ulterior motive, but he couldn’t really see a reason that Fury would hold back the truth if that were the case. It certainly hadn’t stopped him last time, after all.

“Noted,” Fury responded dryly, looking distinctly unperturbed by the threat on his life.

With that, Peter sighed. There was nothing else to say here. “Goodbye, Fury.”

“Good luck, Parker.”

—

The ship was small; it had six seats and not much else. The cockpit was slightly removed from the rest of the seats, all the way up in the nose of the ship. Carol immediately moved to sit in it, and gestured over her shoulder at the rest of the empty seats. 

“Pick any of them and settle in; it’s not a very long flight.”

Peter did as he was told, moving his way over to one of the seats next to a window (technically, all of them were by a window, but this one had the best view) and settling in. He fiddled with the straps for a moment, trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to buckle it. Eventually, he figured out that it was a harness-type belt, kind of designed like a roller coaster seat.

“We’re taking off now. You settled?” Carol called back from her own seat, and Peter shouted back an affirmative. Within seconds, the entire ship had tilted almost 90 degrees, lifting off vertically, pushing him back into the seat (now he understood the reason for the harness; the only thing stopping him from slipping backwards and falling on his head was the belt).

At the abrupt angle change, something in his pocket poked him uncomfortably. He shifted, pulling the offending object out and realizing it was his phone. He hadn’t actually meant to bring it along, given that it would become obsolete the minute they went out of Earth’s atmosphere— plus, he had Karen in his stealth suit anyways. Staring at the screen, he realized he still had three bars left, and he wet his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

Peter knew Fury had told him not to tell anyone— that he’d take care of it. And he knew telling Tony or the Avengers in advance would only lead them to try and stop him, and that they actually had the power to.

But May would understand, and he had the chance to say goodbye and hear her voice one last time. He glanced up to the cockpit, where Carol was sitting; she probably wouldn’t be able to hear him over the roar of the engines. He pursed his lips, staring at his phone. He only had a few minutes left before the connection would be lost; it was now or never.

—

Friday, 4:50 PM

May felt her phone ring, and she pulled it out of her pocket, seeing her nephew’s name plastered across the screen. At that, she frowned, double-checking the time; Peter should be in class right now.

“May,” Peter greeted her. his voice sounded strange and crackly, like his connection was bad. “Don’t freak out.”

May looked up at the ceiling, drawing her strength. She was definitely going to freak out. 

“I can't tell you what, exactly, I’m doing at the moment. But, uh… I'm in space? And I'll be here for a while. I just… wanted to say goodbye with more than a note.”

Peter, what the fuck .

She refrained from saying as much, just pushing out a lungful of air and running a hand over her face, shoving her glasses up to her hairline.

“Does Tony know?” she asked instead, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“No,” Peter said. “Not yet, at least. Fury made me leave notes for everyone that he’ll deliver and explain the whole situation to. By then I'll be long gone off-planet. I only have a few minutes left, as is.”

May contemplated calling Tony right now to get Peter and bring him back. To get him out of whatever Nick Fury had dragged him into again (and boy, did she have some choice words for that man). She took a deep breath.

“People are in danger?” she asked in confirmation. A little part of her was desperately hoping for some alternative response, but she already knew the answer.

“Half of the universe.” Peter sounded subdued. “They need my help.”

May took a deep breath, closed her eyes. And exhaled, reopening them.

“Alright,” she said, through the tension in her chest. “I trust you.”

“I’m sorry, May. I just—” Peter started to try to explain, faltering, but she’d raised her nephew and she already long-understood what he was trying to say. He couldn’t stand by and do nothing if people were at risk.

“I know, Peter. Stay safe,” she near-begged, despite knowing he could never guarantee that. “I love you.”

“I love you too—”

The line cut out, and May closed her eyes, bringing it down from her ear. She could only hope that that decision had been the right one; she’d never forgive herself if it wasn’t.

~ ~ ~

Friday, 5:30 PM

Tony was having a pretty good day, all things considered. He’d fixed a bug in his suit that had been driving him crazy, finished up working on some of Barton’s arrows, and had even gotten some SI paperwork out of the way and had made Pepper happy.

And then, of course, Nick Fury showed his face, and Tony's day decidedly took a turn for the worse.

It all went downhill from there.

Tony had just wandered into the kitchen to make himself his third cup of coffee, when he heard the elevator doors slide open and his AI’s voice ring out across the room.

“Apologies, Director Fury. It appears Mr. Stark is occupied with more pressing matters, and is unable to commit to any world-saving activities at the moment. Would you like me to schedule an appointment for next Tuesday?” FRIDAY said cheerfully.

“I can see him right there,” the director responded flatly.

“Coffee is a ‘more pressing matter,’” Tony called out, not turning to look at the man while fiddling with the machine. “You heard FRIDAY. Whatever idea you have in mind, Director Cyclops, the answer is no.” 

He could practically hear Fury’s scowl in response, and he felt a pang of satisfaction at getting the man riled up. It was one of his favorite pastimes. He turned, realizing that Fury had brought a guest .

“And who are you?” Tony said, pointing to the blonde-haired woman who stood by his side. “Ah, wait, I know,” he continued, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Fury, who looked distinctly unimpressed. “You’re—”

“Don’t even say it, Stark.” He interrupted him before he could make some kind of innuendo. Well that was just no fun. “This is Captain Marvel.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Another Cap, huh?” he turned to Steve, who had just entered the room with some of the other Avengers— most likely notified of Fury’s presence by FRIDAY. “Looks like you’re getting ousted, Rogers.”

Steve shot Tony a warning look (which he promptly ignored), before turning to Fury. “I assume you’re not just here to say hello, Director?”

“You presume correctly, Captain,” Fury responded in the same dry tone. “Gather your team to meet at the conference room in five minutes. Danvers has information she needs to share.”

Ultimately, the team was gathered in less than three minutes, which was probably a record for them. Steve glanced at Tony, who was leaning against a nearby wall, noting the lack of a certain spider-themed young adult. “Shouldn’t you call Peter?”

Tony waved his hand. “Nah, the kid’s in class from 3:45 to 6 PM. He couldn’t get here with five minutes’ notice anyways, we can just brief him when he shows up soon. Whatever it is, it isn’t an immediate threat, otherwise Fury would have already told us to suit up.”

Steve shrugged in agreement. At that moment, Danvers and Fury strolled in, and the director gestured at Danvers to start speaking with no further preamble.

“I’m Captain Marvel, or Carol Danvers, for those who didn’t hear,” she said. “Two years ago, I captured an alien named Nebula, who gave indication that her father Thanos was trying to collect all of the infinity stones.”

“Hang on,” Tony interjected, not even a minute into the conversation. “Infinity stones? Aren’t those the things Thor went off to look for after the whole… Ultron thing?” he waved a hand, wary of bringing up the whole incident but unable to call it anything else. Captain Marvel shot him a mildly irritated look at the interruption.

“Yes,” Steve affirmed, glancing over at Tony. He’d been the only other one present when Thor had left.

Tony thought back to the last time he had seen the Asgardian. Christ, that was what— six years ago? Man, he felt old now.

—

Six years prior…

“The mind stone is the fourth of the infinity stones to show up in the last few years. It's not a coincidence. Someone is playing an intricate game and has made pawns of us. And once all these pieces are in position…” Thor trailed off. The implication was not good.

“Triple yahtzee?” Tony interjected, pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket and slipping them onto his face.

“You think you can find out what’s coming?” Steve asked.

“I do,” Thor said to Steve, before looking over and patting Tony firmly on the chest. “Besides this one, there’s nothing that can’t be explained.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Thor stepped a few feet away, smiling at the two before nodding and calling the bifrost with Mjolnir.

Tony glanced at the partially burned grass, then to Steve. “That man has no regard for lawn maintenance.”

The two of them turned to walk in the other direction. “I’m gonna miss him though,” Tony admitted. Nope. Too genuine. Roll it back. “And you’re gonna miss me. There’s gonna be a lot of manful tears…” he trailed on, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the remote for his car. Time to make an escape.

“I will miss you, Tony,” Steve responded, in that stupidly earnest tone of his.

“Yeah?” Tony asked, tilting his head at him and squinting at Steve through the lens of his sunglasses. “Well. It's time for me to tap out. Maybe I should take a page out of Barton's book. Build Pepper a farm… hope nobody blows it up.” Man, wouldn’t that be nice.

Steve paced forward a few steps before turning back to face Tony, a smile on his face at his ramblings. Tony tilted his head to the side to glance at the treeline, unable to hold the intense eye contact for long. It felt far too much like a moment . 

“The simple life,” Steve agreed with a nod, thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

“You’ll get there one day.” Tony turned back to look at Steve.

“I don’t know. Family, stability… the guy who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. I think someone else came out.”

Tony just pursed his lips and gave a short little nod, not really sure what to say to the genuine admission. He hadn’t prepared himself for a heart-to-heart with Steve Rogers today. He turned to open his car door, about to get in, before he paused. 

Damn it. He couldn’t just leave on that note. He suppressed a sigh. Damn Steve Rogers and his stupid earnestness.

“You alright?” he asked. Steve just inhaled deeply, turning his head to gesture to the compound with a small nod of his own.

“I’m home.”

—

He broke himself out of that train of thought, glancing over at Steve involuntarily. He hadn’t meant to remember past the point of Thor leaving, but of course his brain decided to remind him of the conversation with Cap as well. They’d made up (mostly) since the whole Accords fiasco. The whole Peter-dying-HYDRA-incident had kind of distracted him from his animosity.

He’d forgotten about the farm thing, though. Past him was onto something with that— a farm sounded quite nice. Or maybe a cabin in the woods would be better; farm animals weren’t really his style.

His train of thought was cut off, once again, as Carol continued speaking, and he was quite rudely returned to reality. 

“I have spent the last two years tracking down the locations of these stones and determining the validity of Nebula’s claim. It is very much real; Thanos is a warlord from Titan who is hell-bent on traveling to different planets and killing half of their population, in order to ‘restore balance’ and preserve resources. He’s on a mission for the stones because with all six of them, he’d be able to wipe out half of the universe all at once.”

There was a beat of silence. “So a genocidal maniac with a cosmic shopping list?” Tony summarized, receiving several looks from his teammates at the usual inopportune timing of his humor. “And here I thought we were going to have a relaxing weekend,” he grumbled.

“Thanos is the one who sanctioned the Battle of New York,” Fury interrupted tersely, clearly fed up with Tony’s remarks (which wasn’t anything new).

If he didn’t have their attention before, he certainly did now. Tony stiffened immediately, and he could feel the rest of the team throwing him glances once more— though this time not of annoyance. It was sort of an open secret how poorly he’d coped with the Battle of New York. Well, to be more accurate, Tony had tried to keep it a secret and had failed dramatically (which he resented). Turns out PTSD really didn’t care if you had a media persona to keep up with.

“Wonderful,” he forced out faux-cheerfully, trying to not focus on the feeling of his throat closing up. He was not about to have a panic attack here.

Suddenly he was very glad he hadn’t called Peter, because he wanted the kid to stay away from this kind of shit. He knew Peter would fight back on that, and that Tony probably wouldn’t be able to successfully bench him, but he was certainly going to try. 

Not because he didn’t think Peter was capable, but because he’d had nightmares about the wormhole for the last nine years— and because the last time he had a vision about it, his entire team had been dead. He hadn’t known Peter at that point yet, but he had a terrible feeling that letting the kid anywhere near all of this would end in disaster, especially because of his Parker Luck streak. It had been bad enough envisioning his team dead, and he had already seen Peter’s ‘corpse’ once before— he didn’t need any more nightmare fuel.

“So we need to stop Thanos from getting the stones, and get to them before he does.” Steve stepped up, as per usual, brow furrowed in concentration. “You said you’ve spent the last two years looking for them?”

Danvers inclined her head in a nod. “Yes,” she responded. “I know the planetary locations of all of the stones. All of them are heavily protected and are thus more attuned to a stealth mission rather than brute force, which is why I came to Fury for help in finding someone. That is not exactly my specialty.”

“Now, hold up for just a minute,” Tony interrupted, raising his palms in the air. There was still one big issue they were ignoring here. “Is nobody bothered by the fact that we’re just planning to collect a bunch of all-powerful reality bending space pop rocks to put them all in one location? Does nobody remember New York? That was just one stone. We barely survived. Even if we manage to… sneak into all of these places and get all six stones, we’re just doing all the dirty work of collecting it for him. And why come to us? The Avengers are not exactly known for their subtlety either.” 

That was the understatement of the century.

“Well first of all, New York had two stones— Loki’s scepter and the Tesseract. Second of all, we’d be destroying them after we get them. And third of all, you’re not collecting them,” Fury said flatly, and he got several pairs of raised eyebrows at that. Tony squinted at him.

“Great. Fantastic. So just to be clear, who is?” he asked, distinctly feeling like he should already know the answer. Why the hell else would Fury have come to them if not to task the Avengers with it? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Natasha raise her head with a strange expression on her face, which really should have clued him in. Especially because one of the only people who was capable of such a stealth mission was notably not in this room.

Fury exchanged a glance with Captain Marvel. “Parker.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Oh hell no,” Tony responded vehemently, and there were similar sounds of protest from all of the team members.

Fury shrugged at them. “It’s too late for debate. Parker already left an hour ago on a ship; he left these letters for me to give to you and his friends.” He held up a small bundle of papers in demonstration.

“He did what ?” Sam asked, mouth slightly askew. Next to him, Barnes dropped his head into one hand and massaged his temples. Steve shot a glance over to Tony, who was staring head-on at the director. He thought they’d been over this. He’d never truly trust Fury to keep his word, but he thought Peter, at least, wouldn’t have done this.

“Fury,” he said sharply. “I warned you last time you pulled this stunt. I’m not in the habit of giving second chances.” He knew the director would have remembered his threat to leave Peter alone, and really, Tony didn’t peg him as the type of guy to have a death wish.

“Stark, that was two years ago. Parker is 20, and well and truly capable of making his own decisions. Secondly, I didn’t fake his death again, did I?”

Tony scowled. He knew it was the truth, and the problem was that he did trust Peter. He knew the kid was blindingly intelligent and capable of holding his own, and that much had been demonstrated time and time again over the past three years. The two of them had fallen into a rhythm; Tony let Peter do his thing and didn’t intrude, so long as Peter called him when he was injured or in too deep. It had worked astoundingly well for them so far, but going to space seemed like a violation of said agreement. A mission on Earth was one thing. A mission in space, with the alien apparently responsible for the wormhole that haunted every single one of Tony’s nightmares, was quite another. 

Seriously, couldn’t the kid have normal 20-year-old problems for once? Like failing a midterm or girl issues or… something. Tony didn’t actually know what normal 20-year-old problems were, because his own youth had been notably not normal.

“Tasking the freshly-minted adult with sole responsibility for the universe-destroying stones? What a plan,” he said instead, trying to mask the utter terror he felt at the idea of Peter having anything to do with Thanos. It was like Peter was trying to give him nightmare fuel. And succeeding. He turned to Fury. “Really, did nobody ever teach you risk management?”

Fury just raised his eyebrow. “Risk management coming from you ?” he asked monotonously. 

Tony was just about to snap back that he had been involved in Stark Industries management for years before Pepper had stepped in, thank you very much, but he was beaten to it by the Captain. The other one, to be clear, not their own red-white-and-blue spangly mascot.

“Do you not trust him?” Captain Marvel said, tilting her head curiously. (She wouldn’t have guessed that, based on how highly they seemed to speak of him.)

Tony snorted, the very notion amusing him. “No, I do. He won’t misuse them, I’m not concerned about that. He’s got morals that rival even Rogers over there.” He jerked a thumb over in Steve’s direction. “But that’s painting a target on his back. A very large target. And I am not keen on that.”

Fury shrugged, peering at them with his eye. “That’s besides the point now— Parker is already off-planet. He’s an adult, he can make those decisions.”

“Right,” Tony said flatly, because what the hell else was he supposed to say to that? (Actually, he could think of quite a few things, though all of them were insults). “Quick question, though— you know, just so we’re on the same page— if Thor is still off also collecting information on the stones, then why the hell was our resident arachnid enthusiast tasked with going to get them?”

“I have no idea where Thor is,” Carol said bluntly. “I did not even know he was searching for the stones until you said so. He could be anywhere in the galaxy at this point, and it’s entirely possible he’s gotten sidetracked or who knows what else during this time. Many people have  said that they would seek out the stones, but actually committing to it is a time-consuming feat. Point is, we couldn’t afford to wait. Thanos is actively seeking the stones out, and spending time looking for someone who may or may not even be of use in finding them would be pointless.”

Tony figured that Thor would probably not take well to someone questioning his usefulness, but he wasn’t here anyways, so what did it matter.

“The Avengers still have their own role to play,” Fury interjected. “Parker is off-planet collecting four of the stones– the space, reality, power, and soul stones. The mind and time stones are already on Earth.”

“Vision has the mind stone,” Steve said, and Fury nodded.

“Yes, and the time stone is with Dr. Stephen Strange in the Sanctum Sanctorum.”

“Doctor Who?” Tony asked, arching his eyebrows, mouth twitching at the involuntary pun.

Fury sighed; he didn’t appreciate it nearly as much. “The Sanctum has a location in Greenwich Village and is the main mystical hub for protection against supernatural threats.”

“So, we know the stones are in places where we need to retrieve them without attracting too much attention,” Steve chimed in, attempting to guide the conversation back to the task at hand before Tony could make another remark. “We need to strategize how we’re going to do that.”

“Dr. Strange has in-depth knowledge on the stones, and may require more convincing than Vision needs,” Fury said. “He’s likely the best first step.”

“So we collect those two, and Peter collects the other four. Where is he heading now?” Natasha asked, green eyes sweeping over Fury and Captain Marvel, expression carefully guarded.

“You can’t know where he is. The more people who know his location, the more compromised his mission,” Danvers responded.

“So he’s just anywhere in space? You’re joking.” Tony glanced at her.

“Why would I be?” she asked, mouth settled in a straight line. Tony stared at her. No wonder she and Fury were old friends. They had the exact same deadpan.

Natasha sighed, as if she’d been expecting that answer. “This mission requires stealth, and acting undercover. If word gets loose of where he is and what he’s after it could compromise his position,” she said. “Not only to those who are protecting the stones, but also others who may be after them.”

So apparently not only was Peter in space , but they couldn’t even know where he was— which truly did not do any favors for Tony’s propensity to overthink.

On the plus side, Tony knew May Parker was going to have some choice words for Nick Fury when she found out. (Which was always a joy to watch, as long as he wasn’t the one on the other end).

At the thought, he dropped his head into his hands and pressed his knuckles into his temples, feeling a headache start to form. May didn’t know yet. Or Peter’s friends. He had a lot of phone calls to make.

—

“Boss, May Parker is here.”

Tony glanced up at the ceiling in surprise. He had barely managed to get back to his lab in the timespan between when Fury left and FRIDAY gave him the notification. He’d intended on calling May as soon as he got here, but it seemed like that wouldn’t be necessary.

“Send her up,” Tony said with a sigh, pressing his fingers into the corners of his eyes once more.

“She’s already on her way,” FRIDAY responded. As she said that, the elevator doors slid open, and Tony looked up as soft footsteps made their way to the doors of his lab.

“May,” Tony greeted. He examined her. She didn’t seem worried— either because she was unsuspecting of the situation and had just dropped by to say ‘hello’ at this exact moment, or because…

“You already know.” It was less of a question and more of a statement. He didn’t know how she knew, given that Fury had literally just informed them, but somehow she knew that Peter was in space before he had.

“I know,” she agreed. There was only one person that could have told her, other than Fury, and that was– “Peter called me,” she admitted. “While he was on the ship.”

Tony knew he didn’t really have the right to feel betrayed— May was Peter's aunt, for Christ's sake. But he couldn’t help but feel a pang that Peter hadn’t thought to call him.

“Don’t take it personally, Tony,” May said gently. Him? Ha. He wasn’t taking it personally. “He knew you’d try to stop him.”

“And you didn’t?” he near-scoffed. She just looked at him, eyes dark and thoughtful. 

“No,” she said, and that got him to pause.

Tony looked at her. Really looked at her. The lines of her face were deep— prominent smile lines contrasting starkly to the worried furrows in her brow. He was well familiar with the expression— it was one that he’d seen mirrored in his own face countless times, though she wore the worry lines far more gracefully (much to his chagrin).

The difference, though, was in their eyes. May’s were heavy with a quiet acceptance, a low glow that burned like embers on a fire— not quenched, not resigned, but knowing. Tony didn’t need to look in a mirror to know his eyes were red-hot, like smelting iron; burning too hot, too bright— still determined to fight to get Peter back off this mission, away from danger. 

May's mouth tilted at the corners, and she laid a hand on his arm. The fire dimmed a little. 

“It's Peter , Tony,” she said quietly, and he blew out a breath. “He would have called you in an instant if he didn’t think it wouldn’t have compromised his goal.”

And that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Because that was what stopped Peter from calling him last time, too, with the warehouse explosion. The thought that Tony would have tried to stop him from going after the ‘drug ring’. And Tony couldn’t even really be upset by it, because it was true. He thought he’d gotten better at the whole trusting the kid thing, and he had. But apparently not enough for the kid to trust him. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” May said, and she looked at him like she could see right through him, and he didn’t appreciate it.

“So, what, I get to play the bad cop?” Tony asked, going for a quip but unable to stop the bitterness from leaking slightly into his tone, despite his best efforts. He knew May didn’t deserve the brunt of his frustration, but it stung more because the role was a familiar one. He was used to playing as the cold, emotionally distanced, snarky one. (His dad had played the bad cop.)

“He needs that, Tony. He needs you . Sure, I trust him to always make the same choice, because I have to. I can't protect him like you can. Frankly, I can only really play the role that I do because I know you’re looking out for him, too,” she confessed. “For so long it was just us— and that was fine, when we were just… civilians. Being a single parent is challenging enough when the biggest hurdle is giving them ‘The Talk.’” Her mouth twisted in a wry smile at the comment. “This? The whole superhero thing? I’ve gotten better at it, and I wouldn’t trade who Peter is for the world, but I'm not able to guide him like you can. I'm still just a civilian.” She shrugged. “And parenting a civilian is different. You can be lax, and the worst trouble your kid will get in is probably a house party. Normal teenage rebellion. In the superhero world… you can’t afford that leniency. We’re both trying to keep him safe.” She paused. “A near impossible feat, I've learned.”

Tony let out a half laugh, half sigh. “Ms. Parker, did you just give me a pep talk?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved his arm slightly. “Do not ‘Ms. Parker’ me, Tony Stark. Also, don’t even think you’re being slick with that deflection. That's a Peter Parker special.”

“Nuh-uh, that’s been a Tony Stark special long before that kid was in his underoos.” He retaliated easily, waving his finger slightly. “Also, I'm mentoring .” Not parenting.

“Mhm.” He got an unimpressed sound out of May for his efforts.

He gave a scoff, glancing away momentarily. “I don't even have a good baseline for mentoring. Dear ol’ dad was… not the best in either regard.” Parenting or teaching.

May actually laughed, and he was thrown for a moment. That was… not how people usually responded to such an admission— usually it was either pity or snide disgust ( “aw, poor little rich boy didn’t have daddy’s love” ). 

Yet again, May Parker continued to surprise him. “Tony, there’s not a parenting— sorry, mentoring —” she corrected sardonically, with an eye roll at his look. “—guide in the world that’ll give you a foolproof plan on dealing with kids. Even when they’re a baby, and much less so once they develop personalities.”

“Someone should do that,” he commented idly, tapping his index finger against his desk. “Number one: hair dye for all the gray hairs.”

May shot him another look. “Really, there’s only one hallmark of any successful relationship— no matter what you want to label it.” Her tone was pointed (which in turn, he pointedly ignored). “And that’s whether you enjoy spending time together. I think you already have the answer for that.”

Tony wanted to retort that there was no way it was that simple. However, he found that really… it was. He'd always attempted to spend time with Howard, but only because he desperately craved his father's approval and pride, not because he actually enjoyed spending time with him. He certainly wasn’t comfortable around him. 

There were very few people throughout his life that he’d classify as such— though he realized with a start that that number had exponentially grown in the last few years. Jarvis, Ana, his mother, Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy had been the only people on his very sad, very short list for decades. More recently, Peter, May herself— even the Avengers made the new list. (Some of the time. Maybe even most of the time. Team dinners were tolerable enough.)

And Peter— well, for all of his own self doubt, Tony knew that Peter loved their time in the lab together. Even post-HYDRA-incident, after Peter had become a far better liar, he still had that genuine awe that Tony hoped he’d never lose. And, hell, Tony didn’t think he’d be able to fool anyone if he tried to say he didn’t enjoy spending time with Peter. Not that he would, anyways.

He cleared his throat when he tuned back in and realized that May was watching him knowingly. Sneaky woman. He signed in resignation, and May granted him a flicker of a smile, patting his arm again.

“Even if I didn’t know Peter, I’ve learned a few things from talking to Pepper.” She raised her eyebrows. “Namely, how futile it is to try and stop two certain reckless superheroes from getting into their suits.”

Tony placed his hands up, palms facing Peter’s aunt. “You two are gossiping now?” he asked. That was a terrible sign for him. And Peter.

May just arched her eyebrows further. “Not just us, MJ too,” she replied easily, and Tony massaged his temple with his index finger.

Yeah, he was officially screwed.

~ ~ ~

Friday, 6:15 PM

The second MJ saw her phone screen light up with a call from Tony Stark, she knew that it somehow involved Peter. Not that that was a hard conclusion to come to.

“Is he alive?” she asked the second she hit accept call . Her voice didn’t betray her worries, but she knew the man would see through it anyways.

“He’s fine,” he responded tiredly. “But he won’t be when May and I get our hands on him.”

“I’ll be at the Tower in 20.” She didn’t bother to ask for any further explanation at the moment— after all, it didn’t really matter what Peter had gotten into, so long as he was alive. She could chew him out later.

She made it to the Tower in fourteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds, and was greeted by a somewhat unkempt-looking Tony Stark.

“You have an incorrigible boyfriend,” Tony said in greeting. “He always manages to go off and get involved in dangerous shit.”

“Now you know how Pepper feels,” MJ responded dryly. In the two years since the whole HYDRA incident, she and Ned had gotten to know the Avengers a lot better. It was still wild, sometimes, to take a step back and realize that she was on a first-name basis with all of them. 

Though not because she had idolized them beforehand like most people did— in fact, it was quite the opposite. If you’d told her a few years ago that she would be amicably speaking to the billionaire playboy Tony Stark, and calling him on a first-name basis, she would have laughed in your face. 

But that was before she fell in love with Peter, and saw firsthand how the man changed around him. It was a complete 180 from his media personality. She still gave the billionaire shit for a lot of things, but she had to admit that she was surprised to see that he actually took most of her criticisms into account. She hadn’t expected that of him. Granted, she still thought he had way too much money, but at the very least she had to give him credit for what he did do. An “A” for effort, so to say.

Plus, she got to meet Pepper Potts. MJ still couldn’t believe she was on a first name basis with her, and that was because she’d idolized the woman as a young teen. And Natasha Romanoff. Both prominent women in a heavily male-dominated space. Badass.

Tony huffed. “I’ll get her an apology gift,” he said, referring back to Pepper and her propensity for putting up with him for the last decade, in the same way that MJ was now learning to deal with Peter. Though Peter, at least, did not have the asshole playboy stage. Thank god.

“Good. Make it hand-made instead of just throwing money at it,” MJ responded flatly. He peered at her, seemingly actually taking her words into account, before giving a curt nod. There it was again; MJ felt like she shouldn’t be surprised at this point that he listened to her, but she really wasn’t used to being listened to by people like him. It was a pleasant surprise. Not that she would ever admit to such a thing. She shook those thoughts aside.

“So, what did he get himself into this time?” she asked.

“Took a spaceship and left on an intergalactic trip to go collect a bunch of reality-bending rocks in order to stop an alien from killing half the universe,” Tony said, with a tone of exhaustion that could only come from dealing with a certain Peter Parker.

MJ blinked, waiting for the man to say he was joking. She had known when she started dating Peter that she was setting herself up for a rollercoaster of emotions. She knew she’d be terrified for him at any moment, and she forced herself to accept the knowledge every single day that he may not come home.

What she didn’t quite expect was getting the news that he was up in space . And that he had left without saying goodbye, apparently. As well as… whatever the hell else that sentence had included.

Tony glanced at her, and a sour expression twisted on his face. “Nick Fury,” he said, by way of explanation. 

Really, it was all the explanation that was needed. He looked like he wanted to throttle the director, and to be honest, she did too. It wasn’t that Fury necessarily forced Peter into doing things, but there was no way Peter would ever say no if lives were at risk. And while MJ was proud of Peter and she loved him for who he was, she really wished that the universe would stop giving him situations that needed his help. 

She was about three seconds away from asking Tony whether the director of SHIELD just so happened to still be in the Tower, so that she could have a word with him, when the billionaire seemed to remember something.

“He did leave you— and the rest of us— goodbye notes,” Tony said offhandedly, turning and picking up a brown paper bag that had been lying on the table next to him.

He handed it to her with a strange sort of expression on his face— half amused, half exasperated. She accepted it wordlessly (not mentioning the obvious fact that it was clearly not just a note) and tugged it open, peering inside. When she registered the contents, she couldn’t help the startled laugh that escaped her.

Inside was a box of brownies, with a light blue post-it note stuck to the top of the tin, covered in Peter’s scrawled handwriting. It read:

MJ, I’m so sorry. I didn’t forget the brownies. I swear I really didn’t want to miss the bake sale, but Fury seemed pretty insistent on half the universe being at stake. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Love, Peter

PS— tell Cindy, Abe, and Flash I’m sorry for missing the meet-up

Because of course her boyfriend was apologizing for prioritizing the lives of half of the universe over her bake sale fundraiser.

She sighed, running a hand down her face. (Peter was going to give her stress wrinkles by the age of 25 at this rate). She faced the billionaire, staring him down— his unkempt appearance made a lot more sense now.

“Start to end— tell me everything.”