"Uh, Mr. Stark?"

Tony Stark jumped up to see the uncomfortable, extremely awkward Peter Parker standing in his door way. He wasn't in a particularly good mood and did not feel up to the challenge of dealing with an overly-excitable adolescent boy. Ever since he found out about Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, being behind his parent's death, he'd sank into a deep depression. Although those events took place several weeks prior, he still wasn't done grieving his loses.

It was hard; the rude awakening had shocked him, bringing back years' worth of pain and guilt he had stuffed away in the dark recesses of his brain back. Every time he thought of what happened, his blood broiled and a wave of anger flowed over him. It was crippling. The only thing that kept him smiling was hanging out with Rhodey, and working on fixing his paralysis. However, dealing with a teenager? Well . . . he did kind of drop Peter off back at his Queen's apartment with no explanation whatsoever.

"Mr. Stark?"

"Peter, what are you doing here?"

Peter shifted nervously.

"Vision let me in . . . I—I'm sorry if I'm—I can leave. Uh, sorry."

"How'd you get here?"

"I told Aunt May that it was for the—uh—grant and then I took the train to—"

"Never mind that. What do you want?" Tony replied sharply, an unpleasant look plastered across his face.

He could tell that Peter was a little surprised about his crotchety attitude, especially because he'd been treated like a little prince last time they met. Sure, Tony knew that he was being a little harsh, but life is harsh, right? The only reason he'd been particularly nice to Peter was before he needed to convince the kid to get off his ass and come help him beat Rodgers. It was tricky because Peter kept fretting over getting into trouble with Aunt May and his complaining about his English literature grades. The kid was a genius, for sure. But come on . . . teenagers are just annoying!

"Well . . . um—uh, I was thinking about what you said about, y'know, helping the little guy and all that and I think I can. Y'know, the Avengers have gotten well—um—smaller recently and maybe—uh, well—"

"You want to join the Avengers, don't you?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. His eyes lit up at the very suggestion of joining the group of super heroes. Tony scoffed inwardly, almost positive that this kid had no idea what being an Avenger was about. He'd used him for what he needed, and he was useful. Tony had filled Peter away in his mind, ready to contact him again if he needed him. Obviously, life for the Avengers was kind of peaceful. The Accords were signed and Zemo was on trial. All Tony had to do was sit around and wait until the United Nations needed him to prevent and alien invasion or stop another one of Hydra's numerous world-domination attempts.

"I can sign the Accords and everything, Mr. Stark! I've been practicing and I think I can help a lot!"

"I can tell that's what you think, kiddo. Unfortunately, it isn't that simple."

"Wh—what do you mean?"

"There's this thing called 'you're a teenager.' How old are you? Fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"Whatever. The law says you have to go to school—"

"Until you're sixteen. I'm sixteen. I can drop out!"

"That's dumb!"

"I could learn from you!"

"What about Aunt May?"

"I can tell her it's for the grant. She'll be proud, Mr. Stark!"

Tony started spluttering, unsure of how to respond to Peter. Peter stood erect, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He almost looked adorable with his messy brown hair standing every which way and his twinkly brown eyes. Tony eagerly scanned his mind, trying to figure out a way to keep Peter in his cute little apartment in Queen's. Sadly, logic rushed to attack him and his plans. Yes, the Avengers were low on members. Yes, Peter was super powerful and useful. And yes, he could sign the Accords and it would all be okay.

"Fine!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the hair. He deftly pulled his fingers through his brown curls and shook his head.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but don't make me change my mind!"

"Oh, I won—"

"Listen here, Peter. You're powerful, which is why I am letting you stay, but here me when I saw that this isn't going to be easy or romantic. You're going to have to work hard and I am not going to change your diaper and neither is anyone else going to."

"Uh—I don't wear diapers anymore."

"God help me!"