Who would've guessed, leading the Avengers was a shitload of work. Steve never said a peep when he was running it. This should be orders of magnitude harder for him – catching up with technology, coping with a century worth of difference in human behaviour, agendas that seem so foreign. All of which Steve handled with grace and confidence. How did he handle the bureaucracy, the hypocrisy and haven't yet thrashed every mirror in the house –
Not doing that tonight.
Funny how Ross was so accessible when he wanted something from the Avengers, and became a mythical creature when it was the other way around. They'd been lucky¸ all things considered, that two months since Steve called it quits, there hadn't been a reason to run a field test for the Accord. And the longer time lapsed, the edgier he got. He knew these documents weren't perfect, and Steve said it too – it wasn't that it was irredeemable, it just needed some reconstruction. He had all the intention to work it into shape, if only the other party would sit his fluffy General ass down and listen to what the supers have got to say.
Nobody was going to listen to what they've got to say, wasn't there?
When push came to shove… if Ross and the Council needed more than words –
There was a knock on his door. It swung open before he could even OK it, and Happy came stumbling in, his face as white as sheet. He pointed a finger wordlessly at the sixty-four inch Sony Bravia OLED 4K screen, and proceeded to switch on the news. And Spider-Man came swooping in from one corner of the screen to the next, rich and lifelike in colour, blur-less despite his superhuman agility, all captured in dynamic contrast at a wide viewing angle.
What was Peter Parker doing at the top of the Washington Monument?
Tony stood up so fast he almost flipped his revolving chair. "What the hell is he doing?" He thought he might seriously pop a vessel this time. "How is he in DC? Isn't he home with May?"
"The tracker on the suit says that he's home."
"Clearly, he is not," Tony snatched his jacket from the back of his chair. "Were you nappin' or something?" he glared at Happy. "He's live on national news. Do you have any idea what Ross will do when he sees this?" He shoved one arm through the sleeve, and almost punched through the glass cabinet. "I'm assuming the DODC is on their way?"
"… Yes, Boss."
"Just great." He tugged at his jacket over the front, and stalked to the door. "FRIDAY, ready Mark – oh, for fu –" His phone was buzzing so loudly it drowned out the explosion that just took place onscreen. The knot in his stomach twisted at the sight of Peter latching on to the side of the monument.
He hadn't fixed the parachute in that Spider-Man suit since it self-deployed over the lake in Flushing.
"Stark," he took his call, and finally tore his eyes from the TV.
"Mr Stark," came the reply, and God, Ross had a thing for theatrics and bad timing, hadn't he?
"General. I am on my way to DC. I will personally attend to –"
"You better. We have men on the ground, and those in the chopper are saying that this guy in red and blue spandex scaled the monument, all the way to the top with his bare hands. Is he Registered?"
"… No, Sir."
"Right. He's on our radar now. And…" There was shuffling of papers on Ross' side of the line. Something else went up in dust and a mini-explosion, and Tony could hear his own blood pumping in his ears. "Huh, what do you know. He's definitely the kind of guy we want to bring in for a chat."
"Meaning…"
"Security on the topmost floor are saying he's holding up an elevator cabin containing at least four occupants, also with his bare hands."
"Christ."
"You'll want to clear out the rest of your afternoon for this."
There was enough attention given to the incident, Peter didn't need Iron Man making appearance to up the hype. He took the fastest car he had and drove non-stop to DC – all four and a half hours of it – fast enough that it was bordering suicidal, but by the time he was there, all that was left was rubble and Damage Control working overtime.
He did spend the rest of the evening fielding questions from the press and NGOs about the appearance of another vigilante so soon after the declaration of Captain America and Sergeant James Barnes as war criminals. He fed them some bullshit about the Avengers not being wishy-washy on their stand on vigilantism, and they were just as surprised as the rest of the world about the appearance of this super-crawler.
After the first wave of shock subsided, something changed, and Tony paid attention. The next batch of coverage was openly appreciative, ruthlessly quelling dissents from anti-supers working independently of government oversight. In the dark quiet of two in the morning, Tony lay down on a cot in a bare office – still in DC – and listened to the radio praising Peter for saving somebody's sons and daughters.
Peter himself hadn't officially checked in with Happy, but Tony could relate. There was a lot to think about after all that. Despite the fact that Peter had decided on his own that the tracker on his Spider-Man suit was getting in the way, that he lied about going to DC… he saved some lives.
And this was good.
The Accord did not account for unprecedented crises. They'd be burying five bodies tonight if it weren't for Peter, if they had to wait for the Council's say-so to do the right thing. But Peter made the call. He pulled them out – put his life on the line doing that – and if that wasn't the height of selflessness, he'd be darned.
How would this good country repay Peter? By throwing him into the jail for not signing the Accord?
'Cause that was they did to Steve.
Once really was enough.