Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Midtown School of Science and Technology - Gymnasium

11:44 a.m.

"This is the worst. I'm calling it right now, this is single-handedly the worst thing to happen to schools since they decided to take Monday's tatter tots off the menu."

Michelle cocked a brow as Ned marched over to the bleachers, folding his arms as he sat down with a huff, joining the other kids that gazed apathetically at the commencing game.

"That was last month. I'm pretty sure dodgeball's been around for longer than that," the girl muttered as she watched another face get pegged in as the coach lounged in his seat in the corner, scrolling aimlessly through his phone as his whistle hung limply from the corner of his mouth.

"Well, the tatter tots were a welcome distraction that I no longer have, so life has gotten a whole lot worse," Ned scoffed from his seat.

"You're pathetic."

"Hence, my aversion to this garbage."

Nobody was really taking the game seriously save for a few of the athletes, who really seemed to be using the game for exercise more than anything else. The majority of the students were simply loitering near the back walls on opposite sides of the dividing line, either half-heartedly avoiding limply-thrown balls or purposely getting hit so they could go sit down.

And, like everybody else sitting on the bleachers, Ned pulled out his phone not two seconds later, scrolling through his messages for a moment before a worried frown set onto his face. Michelle took note of it before turning back to her book, fiddling with the corner of the page as the sound of shuffling sneakers and rubber balls bouncing against the wood floors filled the gym.

"He's late."

Ned startled slightly as she spoke, glancing over at her for a second before turning back to his phone, frown firm. "I know. I texted him when the bell rang, but he still hasn't responded."

Michelle kept her eyes on the page. "Did you see him before school?"

"No. But I'm pretty sure he's here today. Otherwise, he would have told me t-"

"Parker!"

They both looked up at the apathetic scolding, watching the back doors swinging shut as Peter walked through, fingers curling around the edges of the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing underneath his gym uniform.

"You're late. Two more tardies and that's a detention." Coach Wilson didn't look up from his phone as he said this. Peter didn't respond. He just kept fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt, pulling them up over his hands as he wordlessly made his way over to the bleachers, silently taking a seat on the bottom level without so much as a searching glance for his friends.

Ned furrowed his brow in confusion before quickly making his way over. They were only one level above him, so it wasn't too long of a climb. The chubby boy plopped down next to him, staring at him with an expectant look in his eyes.

"Hey?"

Peter glanced at him, blinked slowly a couple of times. "Hey."

The teen scoffed, giving a light smile as he shook his head. "Where you been, man? You were five minutes away from being marked absent."

For a moment, too long to be normal, Peter just stared at him, stared, and blinked like he was trying to comprehend what had just been said. After a second, he seemed to jolt slightly before averting his gaze.

"I was in the bathroom."

Michelle cocked a brow. "For fifteen minutes?"

"I...didn't feel good."

Ned perked up a bit at this. "Well, why didn't you come to me, man? I always got Ibuprofen in my bag. You know how paranoid my mom gets. She's refilling that thing before it even gets half empty. If you want I-"

"No, thanks. I'm good." Peter stared at the ground.

"It's no big deal, dude. A couple of those and I usually feel a lot-"

"I said no, Ned." His voice was clipped. He scratched at his wrist, pushed the sleeve up just a tad. Michelle narrowed her eyes.

"What's your problem?"

Both boys lifted their heads as she spoke, turning to look at her from her seat above them as she propped her cheek up against a fist.

"What?"

"Why are you acting so weird?"

Peter shifted in his seat, face tightening slightly as his mouth pulled into a guarded frown. "I'm not...acting weird."

Michelle sniffed. "Yes, you are. Why?"

The teen stared at her for a moment, mouth open like he wanted to say something. But whatever it was going to be died on his tongue as he clamped his jaw shut and bit the inside of his cheek. "I don't really wanna talk right now, MJ."

"Does it have something to do with that bandage on your hand?"

He grabbed his sleeve and pulled it up over his hand, covering the thick, white wrapping coiled around his palm and down his wrist. He ducked his head and turned back around, turning his back to her once again. "Please leave me alone." He spoke softly, so much so that it was hard to hear over the noises of the game commencing not too far away.

The girl straightened up slightly in her seat and opened her mouth, only to pause as she felt something grab her arm. She glanced down, noticed Ned's grip and followed the arm up to meet his gaze, which was hard as he stared at her gruffly.

Stop, he mouthed to her, fingers tightening around her arm for just a second before he was letting go and turning his back to her as well, readjusting his seat so that he was comfortable situated next to Peter, blocking him from her eye-line just a bit.

She took a breath, kept her eyes on the boys sitting below her as the tips of her fingers ran along the edges of the page.

Michelle Jones was nothing if not observant.

After years of loitering through halls filled with friend groups she had no interest in joining, the girl spent her time with her books, her drawings, and her thoughts. But between these moments to herself, she caught certain things, noticed little details that only an artist would see, things that only one with a keen eye could notice.

It made for great entertainment on the slowest of days, peering into the private little worlds of her peers, peeking through at their innermost thoughts laid bare on their sleeves. But despite this, she was surrounded by teenagers in a hoity science school. Nobody around her really piqued her interest. Nobody was worth her peering eye. Which was why she usually kept to herself.

Not this year, though. Because this had been the year she'd met Peter Parker.

Her fingers kept tracing the edges of the page as she watched Ned leaning close to Peter, whispering into his ear as the other teen remained despondent and still as he sat with his hands in his lap, shoulders tight and muscles coiled against a strain she couldn't see.

She'd known of him for years. A lot of the kids attending Midtown had gone to the same middle school down the street, which had also been a science-oriented magnet program for gifted learners. Michelle's scholarship from that school was the only reason she could afford to attend Midtown, but that was another matter entirely.

She remembered him back then, remembered the boy that never spoke in class despite the encouraging words from their teachers, never raised his hand despite knowing all the answers, never showed his intelligence despite being the smartest kid there. She had never talked to him back then, though nobody really had. Nobody except for Ned, of course, who seemed to be the only person willing to hang out with the boy who never spoke.

After that, Peter went from the boy who never spoke to the boy who rarely spoke when Ned wasn't around. It had been an improvement, but still nobody talked to him, not even her. She just watched. And she noticed many things.

Peter got better at hiding them over the years, but every once in a while, Michelle would still catch them. The bare hints of a bruise peeking out over the collar of his shirt, the slight limp in his step whenever they had a particularly rigorous day of gym, the brief winces and retreating steps he would take whenever anybody spoke too loud or got within arm's length of him.

Michelle wasn't stupid. She knew what it all meant, especially since Peter didn't play any sports or did anything even remotely physical in his after-school curriculars. And something told her it wasn't just run-of-the-mill clumsiness, despite what he had tried to convince her of that one time in January when he came to school with a broken nose.

There were all the pieces to a pretty obvious puzzle. But for the longest time, it was a puzzle Michelle ignored and pushed off to the corner of the closet, discarded and forgotten about. There were plenty of stories like Peter's, and from her keen eye, she could say fairly certainly that there were one or two stories just like his roaming around the halls of their own school.

So what did it matter? It wasn't like it was her problem.

And yet, those stories like Peter's were still so different. In the halls, they were aggressive and angry, shoving past people with their heads down and their jaws set into permanent scowls, visceral and raw and so full of rage.

Peter was different. Peter was different in a lot of ways.

He wasn't aggressive. He was soft and shy, speaking in a tone of voice so quiet and so gentle that it was hard to ever feel anything other than peace when he spoke. He didn't shove or throw his weight around. He flowed past people, weaving in between bodies like water through a glass, never touching anybody, never bumping a shoulder or grazing an elbow. And his face...it was never angry.

He was just so...gentle.

Despite this, it had surprised her just as much as it had Ned and Peter when she'd taken a seat right between them one day during Decathlon practice, making herself at home as the two boys sat in stunned silence.

Neither of them said a word of complaint when she abruptly introduced herself while taking out a book to read, never even looking them in the face as she did so. They still didn't complain when she sat with them at lunch the next day, albeit at the end of the table. And Peter specifically didn't complain when he finally noticed that the girl that had suddenly started to hang around him also had the locker right next to his.

Safe to say, their introductions hadn't been the most graceful, but they'd stuck. And for the first time in a long time, Michelle had found herself with friends she didn't know what to do with.

Those feelings had not subsided, not even now. Doubt still clung heavily to her chest like a weight she couldn't remove, a fog she couldn't wave away.

But Michelle Jones was nothing if not observant. And with this came a newfound responsibility, a responsibility to the friends she now found herself with, friends she wasn't too keen on leaving to rot in a corner of the closet.

So without another word, Michelle loudly shut her book and placed it down onto the bleachers beside her. She stood up from her seat and climbed over the bottom bleacher before silently grabbing a seat on Peter's other side. Both boys turned to look at her as she sat, Ned with a suspicious glare and Peter with a hesitant wince.

Michelle folded her arms over her chest and watched the dodgeball game currently commencing, never even turning to look at the two sitting next to her.

"Ten bucks."

The boys blinked, glanced at each other, then back to her. "What?"

"That's my bet. Ten bucks."

"On...what?"

She smirked. "On how long it'll take someone to nail Flash in the face. I'm saying ten more minutes."

Ned kept staring at her with a confused furrow of the brows. But Peter, after a moment of silence where he stared intensely at the look in her eyes, slowly let a smile slip onto his face. Michelle did the same.

"Yeah? That's a lot of confidence you're putting in him."

She shrugged. "More like regretful understanding of just how sucky the other team is."

Ned, finally understanding the levity she was trying to bring, grinned and bounced a bit in his seat. "Nah. I'd say fifteen more minutes. He's pretty good at cowering behind the bigger guys whenever a ball even rolls his way."

Peter glanced over towards the game, watching with a newfound glint to his eyes, a look that hadn't been there prior. "Twenty bucks."

Michelle tilted her head. "On what?"

"On you being able to hit him within two minutes." He turned to her with a smirk.

Michelle leaned back a bit, a new look crossing her face as she slowly rose to her feet, lifting her arms as she tightened her ponytail while Ned whipped out his phone, scrolling to the camera. "In the face?"

"I'll accept general vicinity."

"I'm going for the nose."

Michelle Jones was nothing if not observant. But she supposed she could add impeccable aim to her list of talents.

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 3

1:27 p.m.

"Alleged reports place The Falcon circling over the outer buildings of Brooklyn at around 11:23 p.m last night. The images that were sent to us are fuzzy, but multiple eyewitness accounts verify that the recently-named fugitive was spotted."

Nobody in the classroom made a sound as they stood around Betty Brant's desk, the phone in her hand angled for them all to see as it replayed the news clip that had been buzzing across every single media platform for the past few hours.

"Nearly a month has passed since the controversial decision to name many members of the Avengers as international fugitives, a choice that has led to a wave of backlash and protest. Nevertheless, police assure that they are doing everything in their power to bring down any and all lawbreakers, Avengers included."

"This is such bullshit," Flash muttered with a roll of his eyes as the video ended, voice slightly more nasally than usual, most likely because of the bandage pressing overtop the brim of his newly-bruised nose.

There weren't many students in the class considering the bell for fifth period's start hadn't rung yet, only a handful of the early arrivals that Betty had beckoned over when she'd gotten the notification on her phone. Said students slowly began to find their seats as Flash took a seat atop his desk. "How could the police actually consider them the bad guys? I mean, how stupid are they? No wonder Spidey has to do all the work for them."

Betty leaned back in her chair and glanced down at her nails. "I know, right? They're making such a big deal over nothing. I mean, so what if the Avengers broke one little law? It was a stupid law anyway," she flicked a piece of dirt away from her cuticle. Some of the students nodded their heads while others looked a bit more unsure.

Peter, however, kept his head down as he doodled fractal patterns into Sierpinski triangles in his notebook.

Nothing about the conversation, despite how topical it was to his situation, truly interested him. He'd heard plenty about the issue from the news reports his father and the Cons always had playing in the house, analysts and experts screaming and yelling back and forth at each other about who was right or who was more right. It was annoying.

Another girl, Kelly quirked an eyebrow as she stared at the picture still being displayed on the board. It was a horrible grainy picture of the sky, a small fuzzy winged figure flying above a number of buildings. "Are we sure that isn't just a picture of an actual falcon?" She asked.

Flash ignored her as he continued to rant. "How long are they going to keep pretending that the Avengers are the bad guys?"

"As long as they are."

All heads in the class turned towards Michelle, who was lazily sketching in her book. Peter tilted his head. MJ usually wasn't one to speak up about this sort of thing. It wasn't that she didn't have anything to say, it's just that most of the time, she didn't care enough to. That didn't seem to be the case today.

"What are you talking about?" Flash muttered, narrowing his eyes.

MJ lifted her head, sharp eyes trailing onto Flash. "I'm talking about the fact that the Avengers broke the law. Stupid or not, it's still the law. So, of course, they're criminals. They did what every other criminal does. Disregard all rules and regulations and go their own way," she explained. "The only difference this time is that the law decided to push back."

Ned, who usually always joined Peter in getting to class early, furrowed his brow. "So are you saying they deserve to be treated this way?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "They're being treated like every other criminal. I don't see the problem."

Flash grit his teeth as he turned fully around to face her. "The problem, Jones, is that they aren't your average rule breakers. They're the frikkin Avengers!"

"They've saved the world like a bazillion times." Another kid, Jason Ionello, chimed in.

Sally, a member of the Decathlon team, rolled her eyes. "It was like, only two times, man."

"Still!"

Peter glanced up at the clock hanging up over the classroom door. Still a few more minutes until class started, another few minutes of listening to their ranting. The teen sighed and kept his eyes on the pages of his notebook, aimlessly letting his pencil roam the surface.

Honestly, the only reason Peter didn't just wait until the last minute to head to class to avoid listening to their nonsense was because roaming the halls with the rest of the crowds always made him uncomfortable.

More kids were dwindling in now, but the conversation didn't die down. If anything, it seemed to grow more heated with each new kid that showed up to listen.

Another member of the Decathlon team, Charles, lifted his head. "I don't know. She kind of has a point. Even superheroes shouldn't be above the law."

Flash glared at him. "So you're saying they should be treated like the other scumbag robbers and thieves?" he snapped. "Look, the point is that they're superheroes! This stupid law is just messing with them. They're not the bad guys here."

"So who is?" Betty Brant asked, now addressing the rest of the class.

"Duh, the government! They're the ones that split the Avengers up and are trying to have them arrested. They're obviously behind all this!"

Peter let out a sigh as he rested a cheek against his fist. Where the heck was Mrs. Hallaway?

Gwen Stacy, a well-known girl around school, narrowed her eyes in thought. "That's another thing I'm still a little confused on. If what you're saying is true-"

"It is."

"If it is-" She continued, throwing a glare in Flash's direction. "-then how come the other Avengers aren't doing anything to prove their teammates innocence? If they were as wronged as you claim they were, then how come we aren't hearing from people like Tony Stark about how we need to rally behind them?"

Nobody said anything at that.

It wasn't a secret that Tony Stark hadn't shown much of his face to the media after the announcement of the Sokovia Accords as well as the update on the status of the Avengers. The usually exuberant and flashy media mascot had been noticeably quiet. That alone had people talking. In fact, there were even some bogus conspiracies online that claimed Tony Stark had died during the skirmish with the other Avengers and that that was the reason they were on the run and that the government was trying to cover it up with the Sokovia Accords.

Peter had to give people props. They could really be creative when they wanted to be.

However, he was pulled from his thoughts as the back of his neck tingled in warning. He ducked out of the way right as the pencil flew by his ear. He turned back around to glare at Flash, who was smirking triumphantly at him. "What do you want?"

The teen narrowed his eyes. "I've been calling your name, Parker. What, you high or something?"

"Isn't that more your thing?" Peter muttered before his brain could catch up with him. Flash had obviously heard him, for the dark-skinned boy glared at him and clenched his fists angrily as Peter silently cursed his big mouth.

However, Flash was quick to replace the angered look with a smug one as he grinned. "As I was saying before, I wanted to know if Tony Stark has told you anything about this stuff," he said, his voice holding an air of contempt and superiority.

Peter quirked an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "It's just that you're such good friends with him, I thought maybe he told you something on this." He gave Peter a knowing look. "Unless of course...he doesn't tell you stuff." He fiddled with another pencil he'd fished out of his backpack. "But the only way he wouldn't tell you stuff is if you weren't there to hear it! But I mean, that's clearly not the case, cause you have your internship, right?" He asked, the words dripping with sarcasm.

Peter could practically see the bait Flash was dangling in front of his face. A quick glance around the classroom told him that everyone was now staring at him, wondering how he would respond. The numerous sets of eyes on him made an uncomfortable prickle run down his spine, but he quickly swallowed his nerves down. The last thing he needed was more backlash from Flash, which is exactly what he'd get if he chickened out now.

Instead, the teen simply shrugged his shoulders. "No. He hasn't said anything about this to me. Though I doubt this is the kind of thing you talk to your employees about anyways."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ned and MJ giving him proud smiles. The uncomfortable prickle settled down at that. Flash, however, did not. "That's bull, Parker. You just don't know cause you don't know him!" He growled, frustrations bubbling at the fact that Peter hadn't taken the bait.

The boy, in return, merely folded his arms across his chest as he glared down at his desk. He was really getting tired of this today "As shocking as you may find this, Flash, deep personal problems are not the kind of thing interns fix for their bosses," he growled. "Not that you'd know anything about that." He muttered under his breath, though it was obvious that everyone had heard it if only by the way a collective snicker sounded out around the room. It wasn't a secret that Flash had applied for an internship at Stark Industries loads of times. Safe to say, he'd never even come close to getting accepted.

Peter was quick to realize just how open he was being, hastily shutting it down even quicker. The last thing he needed was that defensive attitude following him home. However, Flash seemed very opposed to letting it go as the teen hastily stood up from his seat. Once again, Peter took note of the slight blush around his cheeks as the class continued to snicker. "You got something you want to say to me, Penis?!" He snarled, eyes blazing as he threateningly stepped closer.

"Alright, alright, kids. Let's settle down." Mrs. Hallaway called as she strolled into the room, the bell finally ringing its saving graces as she moved to her desk. The last few lackeys strolled to their seats, Flash sending Peter one last hateful look before slumping in his own chair.

Peter let out a breath, berating himself slightly for the way he'd prodded the other teen. There was no point in getting mixed up with Flash. All it would do was set a bad precedent of speaking out of turn that could potentially follow Peter home, which was the last thing he needed.

The teen ran a finger over the fresh bandages wrapped around his palm, could practically feel the scar tissue forming from where the shards had sliced his hand. A fresh bout of shame rose in his chest, flanked by deep loathing and annoyance.

He should have been faster. He should have ducked out of the way the second he saw that plate leave Sandra's hand. Maybe then he wouldn't have had the sounds of their laughter still ringing in his ears hours later. He wouldn't have the stinging throb of his new wound distracting him from whatever the teacher was prattling on about.

Still, one thought remained steadfast in his head, strong enough to push him to open his notebook to a fresh page to try and take decent notes, to try and put some effort in.

Today was Wednesday.

Thank fucking god.

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Main Lobby

3:02 p.m.

Peter placed his badge on the scanner and watched as the blockades shot down into the ground, allowing him to slip through the metal barriers.

"Hello, Peter. A pleasure to see you again."

The teen smiled up towards the ceiling as FRIDAY's comforting voice filtered down. "Hi, FRIDAY. Nice to...uh...hear you? I guess..." he mumbled unsurely before walking farther into the building.

"You still haven't found him yet?"

Peter's ears perked at the recognizably annoyed voice sounding from one of the waiting rooms. He blinked in mild surprise, hesitating slightly before deciding to continue on.

"No. I swear, that jackass better still be in the building, or I am going to-" Peter watched the Colonel's jaw clamp shut as he walked into the doorway and they made eye contact with each other, something telling the teen the man's next words weren't exactly going to be child-friendly. Pepper turned as she noticed her colleague's silence and blinked at Peter, who was now currently fiddling with his sleeves.

Suddenly feeling very out of place as he cursed his brazenness, Peter glanced over his shoulder before meekly facing the once more. "Umm...am...am I interrupting something? I'm sorry...I just, uh..."

"No, no, Peter. It's fine. Come on in," Pepper said quickly, taking a moment to smoothen out the wrinkles in her skirt as she took a deep breath, placing a new calmer look on her face, but it didn't do much to settle Peter's nerves. She sheer tension still lingering in the room was near palpable. He shifted his glance towards the Colonel before averting his gaze.

"Right, well...I was just wondering if...i-if you knew where Mr. Stark is."

Colonel Rhodes let out a small scoff as he folded his arms. "Yeah, that's what we'd like to know," he muttered. At Peter's confused look, the man elaborated. "We're trying to find him, but so far, we've had no luck."

Pepper let out an aggravated sigh as she turned to the teen. "We have a meeting today with some important people and your boss has mysteriously disappeared."

Peter jolted slightly at that. "Should we be worried?"

The woman shook her head and held out a placating hand. "No, no, sweetie. Nothing like that. He's just, uh..." She glanced over at Colonel Rhodes for a moment of thought.

"He...has a unique way of handling the things he doesn't want to deal with." The man finished for her.

Peter flickered his gaze back and forth between the two of them before awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck. "Right..."

The woman pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. "Anyway, we're pretty sure he's just holed up somewhere in the Tower, so we're trying to find him."

"Why, uh...why don't you just ask FRIDAY?"

Rhodey huffed with a pointed annoyance that Peter hoped wasn't aimed at him. "We tried that." With a stern frown still set on his face, the Colonel lifted his gaze towards the ceiling.

"Hey, FRIDAY. Where's Tony?"

"Mr. Stark is currently in the process of 'Not Giving a Fuck' and has left Dum-E to take all of his messages until his return."

Peter hid his smirk behind a well-placed cough.

The Colonel rolled his eyes, muttered something about checking the labs again, and disappeared down the halls a moment later.

Despite their irritated looks and constant grumbling, Peter could pick up a trace of something else behind their annoyed faces. The twitching of Ms. Pott's fingers and the way she kept straightening out her already-pristine hair led him onto the fact that she was nervous about something. But what exactly remained a mystery to him, a mystery that was not his place to solve.

Fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket, the boy shuffled slightly on his feet. "I can go and...check the office floors if you want."

Pepper, having been staring distractedly at her phone, glanced up at Peter's voice. Taking a second to register his words, the woman smiled. "Thank you, sweetie." She called as Peter began to make his way over towards the elevator. "Just notify FRIDAY if you find him and I'll come and maul him myself." She muttered.

The teen gave a small smile. "Guess I have that to look forward to, then." He mused before stepping into the elevator. With a few kind words to FRIDAY, the elevator was quickly ascending. Peter stepped out into the quiet, empty hallway as the doors opened up.

He remembered the floor from when Mr. Stark had shown him around on his first day, and just like then, it remained empty.

The massive expanse housed a glass dividing wall stretching down the center of the room, splitting the offices themselves from what appeared to be a reception area of sorts. Further down, Peter made out what seemed to be a meeting room and a conference center. But other than that, the room seemed to hold nothing but two very lavish, very expensive-looking office spaces: Mr. Stark's and Ms. Potts', if Peter had to guess.

Upon further reflection, Peter felt a tight ball of anxiety beginning to bounce around his stomach as he wondered whether or not he was allowed to be in what seemed to be a very restrictive and exclusive floor of the Tower.

The fact that FRIDAY had allowed him up there without any issues was a little reliever, but the anxiety still lingered in the back of his head, the possibility of doing something he wasn't supposed to sticking uncomfortably to his chest

Quickly deciding to check the rest of the room and bolt, the teen began walking down the rest of the long hallway. As he did, Peter thought back to what Pepper had said. He found it hard to imagine Mr. Stark hiding out in some random corner of the building just to get out of going to some meeting so the chances of this being about something else continued to grow in his eyes.

He could only wonder what it was about though. Clearly, if the billionaire was going to such lengths to avoid the issue, it was something bad. But then, what could it be?

("They're not the bad guys here!")

Peter furrowed his brows as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket, pulling them overtop his hands.

The conversations from hours earlier replayed in his head like they were being broadcast over the loudspeakers, in his face and unbearably repetitive.

Everything he'd said in class was true. Mr. Stark hadn't told him anything about what had happened with the other Avengers. Peter had never thought to ask, knew it wasn't his place. He was just some lowly intern who'd been given a lucky break, and he wasn't about to jeopardize that by sticking his nose into places it didn't belong.

But even with his keen eye pointed elsewhere, it was obvious what kind of effect the whole situation had taken on Mr. Stark. Hell, Peter had to hear about it at school almost every day and it annoyed him. And he wasn't even a part of this. Tony Stark was right in the middle of it. Worse, it involved people Peter assumed he'd thought of as friends. Maybe even family, teammates at the least.

He thought back to when Mr. Stark had met him at the airport when he'd finally returned back from Germany. Few words had been shared between them, but Peter had immediately noticed the bruises on the man's face and the look in his eyes that hadn't been present when he'd first been recruited.

Mr. Stark hadn't spoken about what had transpired after leaving Leipzig. Peter hadn't ask.

Something told him it hadn't been good though. After all, Colonel Rhodes had braces on his legs now. Captain America and half of the Avengers were now gone, and Mr. Stark...he just looked...different.

The teen thought of Ned. He'd only met MJ that year, but Ned? He'd known Ned for years. Never in a million years would he assume his friend would ever do anything to hurt him. Peter loved him the only way you could love a best friend.

He wondered if Mr. Stark had thought the same thing of Steve Rogers.

As Peter reached the end of the hallway and brushed his hand against the closed door of the janitorial closet situated on the side wall, he pushed the thoughts from his head. This wasn't his place. This wasn't his problem to be getting involved in. He had bigger things to worry about, first of which was figuring out how to be a good intern when his boss was constantly going missing.

Lazily spinning around on his heel, the teen debated on whether or not he should go down to help Rhodey search the labs. They were pretty big with plenty of nooks and crannies to hide. But then again...that would mean interacting with the Colonel.

. . .

Hmm...maybe the cafeteria?

Yeah right. Like he'd ever step foot in there.

Before the teen could deliberate with himself any longer, the sound of a door opening to his left sounded right as a strong hand clamped down around his arm. Peter yelped in shock as he was dragged into the janitor's closet, the door closing behind him as it plummeted him into darkness...with a stranger.

The teen instantly lashed out with a gasp of shock, only for the hands to move to his wrists. "Whoa whoa! Ease up, happy-slapper!" A new, recognizable voice scoffed. Peter had to take a second to blink away his shock, but it came through in his voice anyway.

"M-Mr. STARK?!"

He felt one of his wrists slip from calloused fingers as the lights suddenly burst on. Peter winced at the harsh change before blinking back up, taking in the sight before him.

Mr. Stark was still holding on to one of his wrists while the other hand was just now leaving the newly flicked light switch. "Yeah, hi." The man said casually, like he wasn't standing in a small, cramped closet with a teenager surrounded by cleaning supplies, mops, and questionably-stained brooms.

"I...I-I don't..." Peter could barely even speak as he pressed a hand to his forehead. "What are you doing?!"

"Standing here. Talking to you."

"No, I-" The teen paused with an exasperated sigh. "I mean...w-what are you doing here? Why are you in a closet?"

The billionaire shrugged his shoulders as he reached behind him and pulled out a half-eaten bag of chips from who-knows-where.

"One downfall to owning one of the most successful companies in the nation is that you have to deal with a ton of bullshit brown-nosers who feel obligated to tell you what to do and how to do it. Cue SI Board of Directors meeting." The man said, pointing a finger at nothing. "Yeah, well...I pay people to do things I don't want to do and that person just so happens to be Pepper. But of course, she insists I attend those meetings. Says something like 'it's your company' and 'be responsible' or 'would you just listen and-'"

He popped another chip.

"...and what?"

"Hmm...? Oh I don't know. I wasn't listening."

Peter couldn't help the small amused scoff that fell from his lips as the man continued. "Anyway, I already have plenty of meetings I have to attend every other month. I think she can handle these ones without me." He folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, I have better things to do with my time."

Peter furrowed a brow and cast a small, questioning glance around him. "You mean like hiding out in broom closets?"

"...yes."

He watched as the man moved over towards the door, revealing that on the shelves behind him, there were a couple of blankets and...and a sleep mask? Just how often did he hide in here?

The man casually cracked open the door slightly, clicking his tongue disapprovingly at something outside. "Welp, looks like Joe finished up downstairs earlier than usual," he muttered before closing the door once again.

"Who's Joe?"

"Our janitor." The man pushed the bag of chips into Peter's unsuspecting arms, the teen floundering for a second before gaining a good grip. Lifting his head back up, he noticed Tony was now holding one of the brooms off to the side. Lifting it up into the air, he watched as the man easily pushed the end of the broom against the air vent cover above them.

It was obvious the vent had been moved and opened before because it slid off with little resistance. And all the while, Tony was whistling. Whistling, like this wasn't the weirdest thing Peter could have imagined himself to be doing at the moment.

"Uhh...do you do this...often?"

The man shrugged as he repositioned a small step stool with the toe of his shoe. "At least twice a month," he replied as he climbed onto the stool. "I've just never had an accomplice before."

He casually swung himself up into the vent, Peter watching with wide, unbelieving eyes. It wasn't long before Tony's head popped back out, the man giving him a questioning look.

"Well? You coming or what, kid?

Peter could only gape up at the man with wide eyes, mouth parted slightly in shock at the sight unfolding before him. In all honesty, this was not what he'd been expecting to do today, especially not with how his day had started out. Tony noticed the teen's hesitance and rolled his eyes, lowering his hand towards the kid.

The teen stared at the outstretched limb for a moment, brain trying to catch up to what was suddenly happening before him. He closed his previously-gaped jaw and swallowed, casting a small glance towards the door where outside he could make out the sound of footsteps approaching.

Mr. Stark let out an impatient huff. "I'll leave without you, ya know. And it'll be incredibly entertaining listening to you trying to explain to the janitor why you're camped out in his closet."

Peter lifted his eyes towards him again, took a small step back as the man waved his outstretched hand once more, beckoning the kid to follow. He expected his hand to reach for the doorknob, for his feet to move back and take him out of the closet, for his mouth to form around the words 'No, thanks sir' as he bolted from the scene before it could get any weirder, resigned to deal with the consequences of saying 'no' to a superior later.

So when none of that happened, when instead, Peter found himself dealing with a new feeling churning in his stomach that he would later discover to be excitement, he was very much surprised.

Before he could dwell on it, however, he noticed the footsteps getting closer. He gazed up at the man's outstretched hand, eyes flashing with a new determination.

He could use a little distraction.

So with a slight tilt of his head, the boy gave a little smirk. "No, thanks. I got it."

And without another word, he jumped up, stuck his fingers to the underside of the vent shaft, and swung himself into the duct with the grace of a professional dancer.

Mr. Stark watched with pursed lips before he rolled his eyes.

"Show-off."

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Labs L1-K9

3:34 p.m.

"Still nothing?" Pepper asked incredulously, glaring up at the ceiling as Rhodey's voice filtered through the Bluetooth earpiece. "I'm telling you, Pep. The guy's not here."

The woman growled and began to rub the bridge of her nose. "Great, and now we can't find Peter."

"Knowing Tony, he probably kidnapped him."

Pepper let out a long annoyed sigh. "...I know."

"Look, maybe he circled back to the offices or something. Didn't we find him napping in a storage closet last time?"

"It's worth a shot. Send some of the boys to go and check the upper levels. Come and meet me back in the lobby and we can try and regroup. Maybe I can coax him out by leading a trail of coffee grounds on the floor to a cardboard box propped up with a stick..." Her voice faded away as the woman rounded a corner and disappeared.

Not even a few moments later, both Peter and Tony poked their heads out from around the corner wall they'd been hiding behind. The former had a look of unease plastered on his face will the latter looked like he was having a grand old time.

"Got to admit, the coffee plan doesn't sound half bad."

"Seriously?"

"Don't you start judging me, Mr. Parker," he scoffed as he straightened out the hem of his suit. Peter merely gave a small shake of his head as he glanced down at his shoes. "Good thing I don't have much homework today." He muttered more to himself than anyone else. Nevertheless, Tony still heard.

"Oh, right. School. That's like...a thing you have to do. I always forget you're, like, ten years old."

"Close enough."

"How's that going anyways?" Tony asked absentmindedly as he checked around the corner for any signs of approaching guards or one furious redhead. So far, the coast was clear.

Peter gave a small shrug. "It's...it's fine, I guess. It's..." He paused, trailing after Tony as the man began to walk through the empty labs, grateful that break would last for another couple of minutes. "I don't know...it's kind of boring."

Tony hummed. "Yeah, I get that. Too young to drive and yet probably smarter than most of your teachers. Must get mind-numbing."

The boy's cheeks flushed at the compliment, hands wringing the edge of his jacket. The action made Tony wonder whether or not the boy was used to receiving such words of praise. He was willing to bet on the negative.

Peter shook the words off and continued on. "Well I mean, half the stuff they teach me is crap I already know, and the other half is stuff I'll literally never have to use ever again." He ranted, Tony listening in with an amused smirk. "I mean, unless, you know, I go to a store and just happen to buy 38 jars of peanut butter and want to figure out what the total ratio of peanut to butter is to the tenth degree." He muttered with a roll of his eyes before falling silent, coming to rub at the back of his neck. "Sorry...I'm rambling."

Tony couldn't help the humored huff that fell from his lips. "You're good, kid." That was another thing he was beginning to pick up on whenever Peter was around. The teen could actually be pretty cheeky when he wanted to be.

Of course, it was usually immediately followed up by a few long-winded apologies, which Tony was quick to brush off. The billionaire was just happy the teen was finally beginning to relax around him.

He smirked. "But I don't know, kid. Those seem like some pretty valuable life skills if you ask me."

Peter merely rolled his eyes once again as he continued to follow the billionaire down the halls with the occasional glance over his shoulder. Tony quirked a brow as he tried to recall something. "Aren't you a part of some club thing? Chess? Mathletes?"

"Oh, Decathlon." Peter corrected for him. "Yeah, yeah, I joined around a couple of months ago. I...it's cool. I like it. It's not that hard, plus the kids in there are pretty nice so..." He shrugged his shoulders. Tony paused as they reached the end of the hall, craning his neck to check the next, finding it empty as well. Despite his focuses mainly being concentrated on not getting caught, he was surprised to find that he was listening to everything the kid was saying. He barely even did that with Pepper.

Probably didn't mean anything. he was just looking for whatever distractions he could get his hands on, and the kid happened to be a good source of it.

"You go to compete with that thing, right?" He asked, turning to glance back at the teen.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, we're pretty good actually." He paused for a moment. "Well...our team captain's pretty good. H-her name's...Michelle, but we just call her MJ."

Tony quirked a brow as he noticed Peter stutter for the first time in a while. He also picked up on the slight shift in his tone at the mention of the name and- wait!

...Michelle was a girl name.

The billionaire blinked for another moment before a small devious smile fell onto his face.

Oh...this is gonna be good.

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Cafeteria Staff Kitchen

4:14 p.m.

"Are we even allowed in here?"

"Probably not, but I'm the boss so it's cool. Plus, you're with me so I'm sure you're fine, too."

"Oh, great…"

Peter ducked underneath the tray of carts that whizzed past him, the hustle and bustle of the active kitchen making him shift just a little closer to the billionaire at his side.

Tony was currently swiping a few apples from one of the back walls while simultaneously sparing a glance over by the counters. He watched with a smirk as Pepper and Rhodey walked past, disgruntled looks on their faces as they talked.

Moving back over towards Peter, the man shoved one of the apples into the teen's hands, Peter giving him a small "thank you" as they continued to duck and dodge between chefs and cooks, all of whom gave them confused looks.

"Anyway, what were we talking about before?"

Peter furrowed his brow before opening his mouth, only for Tony to cut him off. "Ah, right. The suits. Anyway, I've been toggling with the idea of incorporating some nanotech into the new designs. You know, holding capacitors, conform factors, all that jazz."

Peter tilted his head up in thought. "Well, you wouldn't have to carry around a suitcase all the time to call your suit if you had that."

"Exactly. Anyway, nanotech's always a little finicky, so it's gonna take some time."

The teen nodded. "I'd figure as much. "He took a bite of the apple. "The regime it deals with can't really be defined by either quantum chemistry or the classic laws of physics."

Tony huffed. "Yeah, I know. So it's kinda going to suck trying to configure the collective energies of the suit." He muttered, biting into his own apple before waving the fruit around gesturally. "The electronic states of the matter and the energy levels of all the electronic states are going to have to find some kind of harmony. But of course, the energies of the electronic states depend on-"

"On the 1/L2 and the dimension of the system in that particular direction."

Tony spared the boy a small, surprised glance before letting out a small chuckle. "Forgot you're a mega-nerd."

Peter gave him a smile as the teen continued. "Well...the spacing between successive energy levels also varies as 1/L2. Hence the variation in the length scale of a system which will result in a significant change in the energies and the energy separations of the individual electronic states. So you're dealing with particles ranging from 1-100 nanometers, which is about 10 to 1,000,000 atoms or molecules per particle.

"Plus, you can't forget that as the size decreases, the energy bands will become substantially narrower than in bulk solid, leading to distortion of normal collective electron properties in the quantum confinement.

"Then there's the semiconductors, the structure variations, the magnetic materials, the optical properties, reactivity, and even the heat changes to take into consideration so…"

The boy paused in his rambling when he noticed Mr. Stark being strangely quiet as they walked. He lifted his head to glance over at the man and noticed the billionaire was giving him a humored look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just...not many people I get to bounce ideas off of around here."

"Not even Dum-E?"

"Surprisingly, he's not the best conversationalist."

Peter chuckled. "Well, I've read a few papers on this stuff. Nobody's really come close to actually running any successful trials on this except for a scientist a while ago names Pym somewhere in California, but the info on that's classified and I didn't really feel like hacking into any sealed files just for the sake of it."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Parker?"

"Trying to stay off the FBI's watchlist."

The billionaire scoffed and waved a hand. "Details, details."

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Air Vents?

4:38 p.m.

"Alright, you know, I'm all for avoiding your problems, but isn't this just a bit much, Mr. Stark?" Peter asked incredulously as he continued to crawl forward.

Tony merely gave a small wave of his hand. "Oh come on. Don't pretend like you're not having fun."

The teen rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, you were telling me about...something?" The billionaire asked, glancing towards the kid. Luckily the vents in the building were wide enough to accommodate two people side by side. Almost as if it had been built for secret getaways.

Peter huffed. "Sorry, guess I lost track of what I was saying while I was climbing into an air duct for the second time today, something that's apparently a normal occurrence for you."

Tony snorted. "Alright, Sassy Sally. Why don't you go ahead and untangle your curls and drop the 'tude."

The teen blushed and lowered his gaze. "Heh...sorry."

Tony merely gave him a light shove. "I'm just joking kid. You really need to loosen up. Anyways, I asked about what you do when you're not Spider-ing around the city or basking in the light of my presence."

Peter chuckled at that as he continued to crawl across the cold metal surface. "Well, nothing near building suits and running a company and all the cool stuff like that." He murmured before giving a small shrug, or, as close to a shrug as you could get while crawling on your hands and knees. "I don't know. I mostly just tinker in my room with different scraps I find in the dump or I try to configure new ideas to try in my Chem class for stronger web fluid and-"

"Wait a minute...you mean to tell me you made your web fluid...in a high school Chemistry lab?" Tony asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Peter nodded. "Yep, anyway I sometimes also try and come up with some new designs for my web-shooters themselves and-"

"Hold up! Are you actually saying you made webs that you rely on to hold your body weight as you swing twenty, thirty stories up in the air...in a room where people fail tests and play with crayons?"

"I - play with...I'm fourteen, not four."

"What's the difference?"

"I have the sense to be careful when I make my web fluid in between naptime and recess."

The billionaire gave the teen a glare. "Alright, Mr. I Stake My Life On The Dependability Of High-School Chemicals, new deal. Any and all web creation will be done here. You know, with actual top-market materials." Tony said mockingly.

The teen gave a small pout before rolling his eyes and nodding his head.

"Good, now you were talking about how boring and meaningless your life is without me. I'd like to revisit that."

Peter smirked. "Well, I don't know about all of that, I mean, I've got plenty of books to keep me company. My dad's always keeping me stocked with plenty of biology textbooks and mathematical analysis reports, but I've just started getting into thesis papers of-"

"Okay, stop right there. Tell me now that you don't read textbooks for fun."

The teen gave a tilt of his head. "Well, my dad doesn't like it when I read other stuff. Says there's no point filling my head with nonsensical drivel and if I'm going to be reading I might as well make it something intellectually beneficial."

"Jesus Christ."

"Hey, I've learned a lot." He shrugged. "Besides, every once in a while, my friend MJ sneaks me one of her books and I'll read it during my patrols so they don't find it." He gave a little smile. "I wouldn't mind having some of my own though. Despite what my dad says, they're not half bad. They're good at...filling the silence."

The billionaire watched as a look washed over Peter's face, one he couldn't quite read. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone with a blink of the eyes.

"How come you don't just go and get some new books yourself?"

Peter shrugged again. "I can't keep them in my room. They'd find them and take them away. So there's no point in wasting my nonexistent money on something I won't even be able to keep."

Tony regarded the teen for a second longer. The boy's eyes remained focused on his hands as he crawled, expression well-guarded and untraceable. Peter continued. "Umm...do you...read a lot?" He seemed uncomfortable. It was a sudden shift.

Deciding that pointing out the sudden switch in demeanor probably wouldn't go over too well, Tony decided to ignore it in favor of shrugging his shoulders. "Ehh...not as much as I used to. I'm pretty busy nowadays. After all, how could I possibly let reading get in the way of this?" He asked, gesturing around him at the metal walls surrounding them.

Peter scoffed lightly. "It's...hard to argue with that. Nothing better than crawling through dangerous air ventilation systems."

Tony threw him a light glare. "Oh, don't be a baby. These vents are perfectly saf-"

"Ahhh! "

Tony's eyes widened as Peter suddenly disappeared from beside him, a newly formed hole now situated in the metal from where the paneling had dropped away. The man simply blinked in shock for a moment before lightly clearing his throat and calling sweetly, "You okay down there, kid?"

. . .

"...can I please just get you coffee and stale donuts like a normal intern?"

"Sorry. Not really my thing. Now get back up here before we're compromised."

"Alright. Oh, I'm fine, by the way."

"Good to know."

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Upper-Level Roof

5:34 p.m.

"Can we please GOD just drop this?!

"What? What's so wrong with asking about your little friends?"

Peter pushed open the door in front of them as he huffed, letting it swing wide as he turned back to face the man coming up the stairs. "Look, it's not that big a deal. Like I said before, she's just one of my friends. That's it. End of story."

"Well, is she pretty?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

Peter sputtered as Tony folded his arms over his chest, gazing back at the boy with an expectant and knowing smirk. From the deep blush suddenly spreading across the boy's cheeks, Tony knew he probably should back off the subject if it was making the teen so uncomfortable. But he couldn't help the feelings of mirth seeing the kid get so worked up over something so trivial. It was a good reminder that Peter really was still just a kid.

The teen glanced down at the ground, wringing at his hands as he scuffed the toe of his shoe against the ground. "She's...s-she's n...she's not not pretty."

"...uh-huh."

Peter bristled. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

Tony chuckled as he held up his hands. "No. Nothing. Nothing at all," he called over his shoulder as he turned and began to walk further away from the stairwell. Peter turned to follow him, only for his eyes to widen as he finally seemed to register just where they were.

"Whoa..." He breathed out as his eyes widened, his legs taking him towards the railing lining the edge of the roof.

Tony grinned beside him. "Yeah...it's a bit better than the view from your balcony."

A sea of buildings lay scattered before him, each glowing brightly like a billion fireflies lighting the skyscrapers and spires that surrounded them, each dwarfed by the height of the tower they currently stood on. Golden lights shone back at them, twinkling like the stars Peter had never seen, these being the closest he'd ever gotten to them. Rivers of speeding red lights swam through the roads, twisting and curving through the city like a living, breathing entity, reaching out to infinity, where they touched the darkening horizon. The sky was a pale blue, edging towards white. Near the horizon, the colors melted into a warm orange, like spilled paint dripping across the edge of the sky. The soft colors reflected back up into the sky via the distant waters of the Hudson River, acting as a mirror to the softly fading colors.

Peter couldn't help the small huff of disbelief as he stared out at the skyline, hands clutching the railing tightly in awe.

"Not bad, huh?"

He didn't even seem to notice Tony come to stand next to him. He didn't look at the billionaire as he gave a small nod.

Tony gave a nod of his own as he rested his elbows on the railing and stared out at the scene as well, the pair falling into a lull of silence. It wasn't forced. It wasn't awkward. It was just...silence. He wasn't used to tolerable silence. It felt...strange.

The billionaire rested his elbows against the metal railing, let the breeze brush up against his cheeks, a welcome breath of air he couldn't seem to find indoors, not in his room, not in the labs, not even in his own lungs.

His wrist ached. He was starting to get used to it, the dull throb of pain that was constantly present, a persisting pressure that made his hand shake every so often when he wasn't paying enough attention to his movements. The only time it didn't seem to hurt as much as when he was a couple of bottles deep in his stash downstairs.

("Tony. Jesus fucking Christ, man. What the hell are you doing? How long have you been drinking?")

He hadn't planned on Rhodey coming back from DC early. Hadn't planned on his friend walking in on his binge-session, his little pocket of time to do nothing but sit and drink and forget, a blissful chunk of space where he didn't have to worry about what was happening past the reaches of his fridge.

("Are you trying to fucking kill yourself?")

Of course, now that he was sober enough to stay conscious and Pepper was back from her meetings in Japan, they were planning on tag-teaming him as they always did when he did something stupid and irresponsible.

After the meeting.

The meeting he was now electing to skip.

("Tony. What's wrong?")

If this was what it would take to keep them at arms reach, to keep them oblivious and unaware, then so be it.

("Why won't you talk to us?")

If this was what it would take to keep those memories at bay, then he'd do it.

("What happened out there?")

To push it all down, to bury it deep, suffocate and choke it out, it wasn't real, it didn't happen, it never existed at all. They never existed at all.

("What happened to you?")

His wrist burned. He gritted his teeth and pressed his fingers into the railing as the blood in his ear roared louder than the winds stinging against his eyes.

"What happened with Captain America?"

It took Tony a second to realize that the last question hadn't just been in his head.

He blinked, tried to comprehend what had just been said, and slowly turned to face the kid next to him, the kid who just looked like he'd been punched, like the words had escaped and broken free from a hold he'd suddenly lost.

"What?"

Peter sucked in a breath as he took a frantic step back. "Oh, god. I - shit - I...I-I I'm s-so...so sorry, Mr. S-Stark. I...that's a r-really personal question a-and...and I don't know w-what I was think- I just..." He raised his shaking hands out before him. "y-you don't h...h-have to answer that...I mean...I'm w-way out of...out of l-line and I-"

"Enough," Tony snapped, shocked by how level his voice sounded.

Peter's jaw clamped shut. He watched Tony with a timorous look in his eyes, silent and still.

The billionaire gazed at him for a moment before turning away with a sharp breath, finding his lungs much tighter than before. He continued to tap his fingers against the railing as Peter continued to shift his weight on his feet, looking painfully uncomfortable as he fiddled with his hands. Tony didn't rush to reassure him, found that he couldn't.

The previously light air suddenly turned tense and thick, as always seemed to be the case around Tony nowadays. He was starting to hate it even more than the silence, even more than the looks Pepper and Rhodey currently always got on their faces whenever he entered the room.

It was a shitty question, out of line and out of bounds. That much was certain, that much was clear simply by the way Peter was now refusing to look at him. It was a question they both knew he had no obligation to dignify with an answer, especially since he hadn't even revealed as much to people who'd been asking the same for weeks now, people who deserved much more than this kid did.

Forget about it.

It's not important. Forget about it and move on. Kid slipped up. We all do. Brush it off and move on.

Simple, easy. He'd been doing it for weeks now. What was one more person to duck and dodge with? What was one more conversation to kill before it even had a chance to take a breath? Peter wouldn't mind. He was sure of it. And even if he did, what did Tony care?

("Not many people I get to bounce ideas off of around here.")

And yet...

The billionaire hesitated for a second before casting the boy a small glance.

The teen was chewing on his bottom lip, running a hand up and down the side of his arm as he cast a side-long glance over towards the view, body tense and muscles rigid like he was prepped for a fight, psyched for a confrontation.

He didn't look happy. For some strange reason, Tony found that this bothered him.

Peter has been much different today, different from the boy he'd met a few weeks ago, definitely different from the boy he'd first recruited, even different from the boy a few days ago. He was smiling, cracking jokes, walking, and talking with an ease Tony had never seen in him before.

That had to mean something, right? It wasn't just his imagination?

Peter had been trying. The deeper he gazed back at the day's events, the easier it was to tell. The sarcastic comments, the sass he'd throw right back in Tony's face, the trying smiles and desperate chuckles, desperate to please.

Peter had been trying to make himself comfortable, to open up just a little more. He'd been trying to allow Tony in...just a little bit. And while the billionaire could tell they were far from any real progress on that front, he knew it was a start.

Tony let out another tired sigh as he dropped his hand back down to his side, turning back towards the teen, who still refused to meet his gaze. He couldn't just let this day go to waste. Not with the progress they'd made. Not when Peter had been trying so hard to make said progress.

If he was ever going to get Peter to trust him, he had to show the kid that trust first. It was a two-way street, after all.

The billionaire licked his lips in deliberation, hesitating for a moment longer before a new determination set in his eyes.

If he wanted Peter to let him in, he'd have to let the kid in first.

Peter flinched back violently as Tony rested a hand on his shoulder, the movement making the billionaire rear back slightly. As he met Peter's fearful gaze, the teen's face went red and his eyes lowered. The billionaire decided to just keep his hands on the railing.

"You know...I never really did explain it to you when I recruited you, did I?" He asked, making sure to keep his voice low and steady.

Peter hesitantly met his gaze before shaking his head.

"Yeah...then I guess an explanation is long overdue anyway."

Peter shook his head, dropping his eyes to the floor once again. "You...you don't have to do this, M-Mr. Stark." He whispered out meekly.

Tony took in the teen's words in a moment of hesitation. You really don't.

"...Yeah, I do."

Peter watched as Tony turned back to stare out at the skyline, his arms resting on the railing once again. Peter mimicked the action after a moment.

"Well...I'm assuming you've heard of the Accords."

The teen nodded his head. "Yeah, we talk about them in class a lot."

"Then you know what they were about."

He nodded once again. "They said the Avengers would be placed under the supervision of the UN to safeguard the wants and needs of the public while also maintaining peace and assuring safety through more control."

It sounded scripted. A phrase to memorize, a definition for a test or an exam. Not an agreement that would tear his world apart.

"Yeah, well...apparently not all of us...agreed on those terms," He drummed his fingers against the railing, focused on keeping his breathing even and his voice level. "Only half of us ended up signing. Cap and a few of the others refused," he explained, choosing his words carefully as he debated just how much he wanted to share with the kid.

Peter listened on in silence, wide eyes staring straight into the man.

"Anyway, three days later, there was that bombing at the UN meeting."

"In Vienna?"

"Mm-hmm." Tony nodded. "Police identified the bomber as The Winter Soldier." He watched Peter give an affirmative nod. No doubt the teen had seen it on the news. Everyone had seen it.

"Yeah...I kind of kicked him off a balcony..."

Oh right. The teen had fought him too. Tony tried to ignore the sick feeling that arose in his stomach at the thought.

"Well, it certainly didn't help that the Winter Soldier happened to be Cap's best friend during the war."

Peter furrowed his brow. "Yeah...I remember reading about him. He was an assassin for...H-Hydra?" He stuttered, trying to recall the name.

Tony gave another nod. "Anyway, after that little skirmish in Leipzig, I went after Cap and Barnes. Figured it would be better if I went to talk to them instead of a government sniper squad" He muttered. "And..." He paused debating on how much he wished to truly reveal. "Some...some pretty bad shit went down."

The teen's gaze was currently locked on the floor, his face hard in thought, lips parted slightly. "So...they...they just...left you there? They just bailed on you?" He asked incredulously. "I...I don't understand. How...why...w-why the hell would they do that?" He asked, Tony noticing a hint of anger edging the teen's words. "I...you were just trying to help them."

Okay...that left a bad taste in Tony's mouth.

"No, I-" Tony paused. Just what was he planning on saying. Nope. It was on me kid. I lost my temper and threw the first punch. My bad! Don't blame this on Cap. He's totally innocent here!

His eyes hardened and his jaw tensed. "It's...complicated."

That wasn't good enough for Peter. "Wha...what's complicated about it? You were trying to do the right thing and he repaid you by..by trying to kill you? He's not the victim here! You a-"

"Peter!" Tony shouted, fists clenching at his sides. The teen instantly flinched at the hard tone. "It's not...it's not like that," he whispered, voice unsteady. He felt his arm twinging in pain and resisted the urge to grab his wrist.

Scratch what he'd said before. All of this left a bad taste in his mouth. How could it not when he was basically creating an anti-Cap minion right here and now.

It was hard to ignore the fact that when he'd recruited Peter, he'd conveniently left out Cap's side of the argument, instead deciding to explain how he'd simply broken the law. Tony honestly couldn't say what side Peter would have been on had he heard both sides of the story. He really didn't want to think about that.

He glanced over at Peter, the teen turning to look at him as well. Just by looking in his eyes alone, Tony could see the raw purity in the kid's gaze. The praise he felt for Tony. The admiration. It was obvious Peter didn't assume Tony had done any wrong. So far, all he knew was that Captain America had gone crazy. To Peter, Steve was the bad guy.

Maybe that's what Tony wanted...

He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel nice to speak to someone who didn't at all hold him accountable for the mess that was the Accords and the Rogue Avengers. And he knew that if he just continued on with that story, continued to tell Peter the barest of details, that Cap had simply gone crazy, then that admiration, that praise, that look - absent of all hate and judgment - would remain.

But for how long? How long until Peter heard the truth, heard both sides of the story? He'd inevitably realize that Tony had been lying to him. And it wouldn't just be the look that disappeared, it would be Peter himself. The kid would never trust him then.

Tony scrunched his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a deep, regretful sigh.

He'd have to let Peter decide for himself whether he deserved that look of admiration.

"It's not like that...because I'm the one that threw the first punch."

Peter reared back in shock, brows furrowing as his lips parted. "What?" He whispered in disbelief.

Tony rubbed the side of his face. "Barnes, he...he did some bad stuff, kid. I mean...I mean some really bad stuff. And I was...I was angry. I knew he'd been used. I knew he'd been brainwashed. I knew he didn't have full control of his actions. But...I was just..." He paused. "I was angry."

"So...I threw the first punch. And we fought. It...it was bad, kid." He sighed, resting back on the railing once again as he lowered his gaze. "After...after the fight, neither one of us looked good. We were both pretty fucked up. Anyway, Cap left. He and the others...they're gone," he said softly, resisting the urge to steal a glance towards Peter.

He just wanted to remember that look of praise in his eyes for as long as possible before he had to accept the new one that had to have replaced it by now.

"I...this entire mess...in a sense, we all had a hand in it. None of us were innocent. We were all responsible. So...so don't go writing Cap off as the bad guy, kid. Cause..." He swallowed the bile that had suddenly risen up the back of his throat.

"Cause I'm just as bad as he is. Maybe worse"

. . .

. . .

. . .

"No."

Tony blinked in shock at the simple word, turning to look at Peter, only to rear back in surprise. The teen's fists were clenched tightly by his sides, eyes narrowed into thin slits as he glared back at Tony. He'd never seen the kid look so mad before.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but that's bullshit!"

...or sound so mad before.

Peter let out a small breathy laugh, one Tony knew held no joy. "You want to stand there and tell me that you're just as bad as Captain America. NO! That you're worse than him? I mean, a-are you fucking serious?!" He growled out, teeth grinding.

"Yeah, I read about the Accords. Even I can tell they aren't perfect. But that doesn't mean you abandon them, doesn't mean you choose your fists instead of words. Not when that means the Avengers are disbanded. No. You work through it. You compromise. That's how this world works! We're not in 1945 anymore! The world isn't black and white. It's not America: good, Nazis: bad," he scoffed. "This world, today the only way to get anywhere is through compromise! That's the only way things will ever get done."

Tony stood in shell-shocked silence as Peter continued, the teen running a hand through his hair. "And...and I know you made a mistake, Mr. Stark. But if we're being honest, everyone did. Everyone has something to feel guilty about. The only difference is that you're standing right here. Right fucking here! You're not off hiding in some safe house like a coward, shielding yourself from the destruction you caused!" He snarled, his words filled with venom.

"You actually stayed to make things work. Meanwhile, Captain America fled at the first sign of trouble. You stayed to fix your mistake. He didn't. He left! He left you!" The teen was practically screaming now.

"I mean...I...I thought you guys were friends. Teammates? How could..." He trailed off for a moment. "How...how could he just leave? You...you don't do that to your friends, your...your family." His fists shook. "No. No, Mr. Stark! Don't you try and convince me that you're somehow worse than Steve Rogers, alright? Because at the end of the day, he's the one who abandoned you...abandoned all of us, and you're the one who stayed! You're the one who's fixing all of their messes! You're the one who's actually trying!"

Tony stared at the teen with wide eyes, his mouth slightly ajar as he struggled to form words. He watched the boy glare at the ground for a moment, face red and cheeks flushed as his fists shook. The teen closed his eyes tightly as he turned his head away, taking a few deep breaths as he seemed to try to calm himself down. Slowly, the billionaire watched the anger slowly seep from the kid's bones.

Very quickly being replaced with disbelief.

Peter blinked open his eyes, mouth falling slightly ajar as he swallowed and hesitantly lifted his shocked gaze towards Mr. Stark. The teen sucked in a shaky breath and took a hesitant step back and Tony could suddenly see the fear now overtaking the kid's features.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Tony breathed, finally able to speak once again as he saw the kid teetering on the verge of panic. "Take a breath, kid." Tony stared at the teen for a moment longer, taking in the shocking sight before him as, for a minute, the two simply just stared at each other, neither sure of what to say.

Finally, Peter broke the silence as he grimaced slightly. "You're...not mad?" He whispered meekly.

Tony couldn't help the scoff that fell from his lips at that. "If anything, I'm more surprised." He muttered before letting a small smirk fall onto his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse."

Peter blinked up at the man for a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Yeah well...that just makes it all the more effective."

Tony stared at him for a second longer before huffing in amusement, shaking his head as he turned back to the railing, resting his elbows against the steel as Peter slowly sidled up to him and did the same.

"You are one strange kid, you know that?"

Peter hesitated, seemed to think for a moment before he gave a small smile. "Yeah, well...I guess that's a good thing." He shrugged. "If I was normal, I wouldn't be here with you." Tony glanced down at him as he continued.

"So you know...silver linings."

The billionaire stared down at him for a quizzical second before letting out a light chuckle. "Yeah...silver linings."

The pair continued to stare out at the skyline for a while, time passing without them even realizing it, which is what made Rhodey tackling Tony to the ground all the more shocking.

Peter yelped in surprise as he watched the colonel basically wrestle the billionaire to the ground, Pepper pushing her way through the heavy roof door at the same time. "Geez, I didn't think you were actually serious." Peter heard her mutter as she stared at the two men.

Meanwhile, Tony stared up at the fuming lieutenant with a smirk. "Hey, platypus. Why the face?"

"Oh shut up, you son of a bitch." Rhodes practically snarled, though even Peter could tell Tony wasn't phased at all by the harshness of the man's words. "Do you know how long we've been looking for you?"

Tony smirked at him. "Probably the same amount of time I've been hiding from you." He quipped. "Ah, correction: we"

Both Pepper and Rhodey turned to glance at Peter, who gave a small, nervous wave. The Colonel rolled his eyes. "Did you really have to go and corrupt the kid?" He muttered.

Tony shrugged as Rhodes hauled him to his feet. "It's in the job description."

Peter chuckled in the corner.

Pepper stalked over to him, meeting his nonchalant gaze with a look that Peter assumed held more fire than he'd ever seen before. "You and I are going to be having a very, very long conversation after this meeting."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Great. Can't wait," he muttered as Rhodes began to practically drag him to the door. "You know these board directors have been waiting for you all day? If you thought they were grumpy before, just wait until you see them now." The man snapped.

Pepper shook her head as she watched the two men disappear through the door before turning back towards Peter, who shrugged his shoulders. The woman rolled her eyes and extended a hand towards the teen. Peter only hesitated for a moment before accepting it. "You don't mind waiting for a little while, do you Peter? Something tells me your boss is going to be pretty busy for the next few hours." She all but growled.

Peter gave an amused nod. "Y-yeah...I'll be fine. Although, I'm assuming I can't say the same for Mr. Stark."

"You assume correctly."

 

---

 

Wednesday - March 23, 2016

Stark Tower - Waiting Lounge

6:25 p.m.

Peter let out a small sigh as he continued to brainstorm different chemical formulas he could try to enhance his webs. He supposed he should have been excited at the prospect of creating new web fluid in a legit billion-dollar lab, but in all honestly, he was just trying to pass the time.

The teen glanced up, scanning the lounge for a moment. He hadn't heard hide nor hair from Pepper, Rhodey, or Tony, though he assumed the latter had been dragged to the pits of Hell, never to be seen again.

Letting out another sigh, flapping his lips in the process, the teen turned back his notebook and began to doodle new designs for his web-shooters. Maybe Mr. Stark would have some suggestions on how to improve them.

Before he could even get halfway through designing the exterior, though, he heard the door to the room swing open.

Lifting his head, Peter furrowed his brows as he watched Mr. Stark straightening out his jacket, casting suspicious glances over his shoulder as he walked up. "Welp. Up and at 'em. Let's go."

"Wha-?"

Without another word of explanation, Mr. Stark was quickly heading towards the elevator. Peter blinked in shock for a moment before shaking his head, stuffing his notebook into his backpack as he scurried after the man.

They entered the elevator casually, without a word. However, Peter couldn't help the confused look spreading across his face as he glanced up at the man. He opened his mouth, only to pause as he heard a shout come from farther down the hall. He was just able to make out the angered faces of Colonel Rhodey and Ms. Potts before the elevator doors slid shut.

He sighed.

"Did you skip your meeting?"

"No, I went."

"Oh?"

"I skipped our post-meeting scolding."

"Oh."

Quickly finding himself in a parking garage, he followed the billionaire towards one of the more casual cars near the back of the lot. Still, as he slid into the passanger seat, he had to assume it still cost more than his entire school, people included.

"Umm...am I allowed to know where we're going?" Peter asked cautiously, glancing at Tony as the man sped out of the garage. The man threw him a knowing smirk.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"I was afraid you'd say that."

All in all, the drive didn't take longer than maybe ten minutes. Though with the speed Tony was driving at, Peter was sure they could have gotten anywhere in ten minutes, regardless of distance. Throughout the drive, Tony mostly complained about his meeting, Peter choosing to remain silent, save for the occasional laugh. He was content with just listening.

The car came to a screeching halt which sent Peter jolting forward, his face slamming painfully into the dashboard. The teen covered his face with his hands as he groaned in pain. Tony hissed beside him. "Yeah...in hindsight, I probably should have reminded you to put your seat belt on. Hmm...am I a responsible mentor yet?"

Peter didn't respond, just kept prodding at his nose.

After taking a minute to make sure nothing in his face was broken, Peter lifted his head to find Tony already out of the car, standing next to his door. The teen gave him a small quizzical look before stepping out of the car as well, lifting his head to see where they were.

The expensive car was parked on the curb right outside a large, antique building, one Peter recognized instantly. "I...w-what are we doing here?" He asked, turning back towards Tony. The man gave a small shrug. "You said you needed some new books, right?"

"Y-yeah, but-"

"Well, here you go. Problem solved. You can just store them at the Tower," the man claimed nonchalantly, folding his arms over his chest.

The billionaire fully expected the teen to go rushing towards the store, his excitement bubbling through his body. However, Tony could honestly say he was surprised when Peter made no such move, instead choosing to fiddle with his hands as he lowered his gaze.

"Y-you don't...you don't have to do this, Mr. Stark." He murmured quietly.

Tony blinked down at the teen before letting a small grimace fall onto his face as he realized how this must have looked to the kid. More likely than not, Peter probably saw this as a form of charity, an act of pity.

But that is what it is, isn't it?

Why else would you be here?

The man bit the inside of his cheek in thought before letting another smirk fall onto his face, pushing the voice to the back of his head to deal with later.

"I also didn't have to play hooky all day with my intern, but...I don't know...I guess today's the day for trying new, slightly crazy, things." He shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, I guess I could use a few more books in my own collection." He murmured with a wink to Peter. "Can't hang out in the air vents all day after all."

Peter let out a knowing chuckle as he continued to debate whether or not to take the man up on his offer, the teen's face revealing his lingering hesitations. "So...got anything you recommend?" The billionaire asked. That seemed to be enough to dissolve any remaining doubts in the boy as a large grin split his face.

Quickly motioning for the man to follow, the teen practically fumbled up the steps, jumbled ramblings falling out of his mouth at how much the man was going to love the books inside.

As Tony felt himself getting dragged into the store, albeit with the beady eyes of the lady behind the counter trailing them, he couldn't help the strange feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, curling around his chest, something that had been present ever since Peter's little outburst on the roof.

You're taking this too far.

He swallowed, but the thoughts remained, clinging to the forefront of his head like a virus.

This is too much.

It wasn't that much of a stretch. After all, Peter's little rant had only reinforced the fact that Tony had a whole mess of problems he still had to deal with. Now pile on the problems Peter was bringing to the table, and they were looking at a full-blown disaster. And yet, as the billionaire watched Peter become engrossed in his surroundings, a huge dorky grin splitting his face, Tony found himself doing something he hadn't been able to do since Siberia.

He relaxed.

He didn't think about Ross. He didn't think about the continuous cycle of new and revised Accords he continuously had to go over. He didn't think about Cap, the Avengers, the betrayal.

No, right now...all he cared about was finding a good book to read, with some input from the bubbling teen bouncing at his side.