Author's Note: Here's me trying to keep up with too many stories at once. Hope you enjoy the chapter anyways! This was suggested by Radio Rascal, so kudos to them! Read, review, and enjoy!

PPPPPP

Peter stretched languidly, scratching idly at the back of his neck. He paused in that position for a moment before putting a hand in front of his mouth (May and Ben raised him classy after all) and giving a huge yawn. He wrinkled his nose a little bit and blinked away the reflexive tears and the lingering sleepiness.

Happy peered at him over the rims of his sunglasses, Disapproving Gaze levelled through the rearview mirror, "You been spending too much time on patrol?"

Peter flushed momentarily, "No! Nope. Never. May and Mr. Stark were really strict about how late I'm allowed to stay out each night and I try really hard to keep up with that. It's kind of scary when Mr. Stark is mad at me. It's really, really scary when May is mad at me. It's downright world-ending when May and Mr. Stark are mad at me."

Raising an eyebrow just over the edge of the sunglasses, Happy faced back towards the road, "What were you doing, then? Homework? Building your little Lego sets with your… guy in the chair?" Peter was honestly offended for Ned. He had never heard someone put that much disdain into a name before, which was especially impressive because Happy was generally disdainful about most things.

Shaking his head, Peter answered, "Nope and nope! None of those things. It's fine. I'm good. I'm really not that tir-," Peter was cut off, embarrassingly enough, by a yawn stretching out his jaw and stealing his breath.

"Uh huh," Happy responded, entirely unimpressed.

"Look," Peter said, trying to pull out his inner interrogator mode voice (the nice bad guy that had helped Peter with the whole ferry thing had actually been helping Peter out with that whole process; he was actually pretty nice when you got to know him and his nephew was a huge Spiderman fan), "It's none of your business."

Although Peter couldn't see it through the sunglasses, he knew that Happy was rolling his eyes when he threw back, "You know that Tony is going to ask these same questions when you get to the compound. Better get your story straight now rather than stumbling through it later when he interrogates you." He sounded exhausted and at the end of his rope. Peter wasn't sure how to take that. Peter was pretty certain that Happy secretly liked him, but sometimes it was really hard to tell. Maybe Happy did that on purpose. Maybe it made him, well, happy when he confused other people. Who was Peter to judge, really?

Wrinkling his nose when he realized that Happy was probably right, Peter sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I got into a conversation with my soulmate and we accidentally stayed up all night talking. Normally, at least one of us remembers that it's bed time in my time-zone since I'm pretty stationary, but we got distracted last night." They'd been talking about some romantic stuff, describing the perfect date they were going to go on when they finally got together. They'd talked about what meeting the family would look like in the vaguest possible manner because the bond was really picky. They picked a restaurant and picked meal items and talked about how they'd eat it and what they'd talk about. It almost, almost felt like they were actually on the date, hopelessly in love and forgetting to eat their food because they were so engrossed in each other's eyes. Still, that was no excuse for the way they stayed up through the entire night. Peter hadn't exactly regretted it come school time, but he certainly would have enjoyed that physics test a whole lot more if he'd have had at least a partial night's sleep.

Happy shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, "Ah, okay. Sorry, didn't mean to ask you about that." It was generally pretty taboo to talk about soulmates. Not, like, debilitatingly so, but still. A little bit. Normally, intimate details about soulmates were only shared among family members and close friends. Lesser details like I-stayed-up-all-night-talking-to-him were reserved for good friends. Peter wasn't really sure where Happy fell on the friendship scale, but he still didn't mind telling him about it.

On further thought, Peter wasn't really sure where Mr. Stark fell on the friendship scale either. Mr. Stark was his mentor and almost seemed to be doing this really bizarre co-parenting thing with May and he was technically Peter's boss through the internship thing. It was all rather complicated. But Peter was also not too thrilled with Mr. Stark after the whole incident in Germany. He knew that Mr. Stark had good reasons for doing what he did, and he knew that Steve had good reasons for doing what he did, but still. That didn't excuse lying to Peter about what was going on, manipulating him into helping. Not that Peter needed a lot of manipulating, but the point still stood. Maybe if Mr. Stark had told him the truth – the whole, unbiased truth, - he would have been able to help. An outside view kind of thing, you know?

Still, it didn't matter in the long run. The past was the past and you couldn't change it (Peter studiously ignored the Empire State Building sized brick of guilt about the past and the what if's he carried around religiously). That didn't mean that Peter couldn't feel the tiniest bit miffed that his soulmate was still being forced to live on the run, moving from country to country still trying to help people, but unable to do it the legal way.

Mr. Stark was trying to get over it, though. Well, Mr. Stark was trying to make up for it, actually, but whatever. And he didn't know who Peter's soulmate was, so it was all good. Not really, but still. There was nothing that either of them could do about it and Mr. Stark wasn't entirely in the wrong and he was genuinely trying to fix things. Besides, the Accords were still going strong and Mr. Stark had yet to turn Peter in, so that had to say something, right? Right.

So, Peter hadn't forgiven Mr. Stark, but he was working towards it. Therefore, Peter would probably consider Mr. Stark as a good friend. Not, like, Ned or May level, but maybe MJ level.

Belatedly, Peter realized that he hadn't said anything in response. He flushed a little, "Oh, uh, no problem! It's all good. I don't mind." He paused before flushing further and rushing out, "I mean, unless it bothers you. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. Like, you know. Sorry. Yeah, that." He trailed off, uncomfortably aware that he'd been rambling again. Just another Parker day.

Up in the front seat, Happy didn't deign to comment, instead increasing the speed a little bit until the compound came in sight, a few thankfully short minutes later.

When they rolled to a stop in front of the main building, Happy waited a second before unlocking the doors, commenting quietly, "You know, you don't have to tell Tony anything if you don't want to. A soulmate is yours. Don't let him convince you otherwise."

Peter sent Happy a blinding smile, "You got it!" He saluted the driver even as his heart filled with bubbly warmth. Moments like this really made Peter feel like Happy did care about him, no matter Peter's confusion on the matter most other times.

Peter walked into the building, following the same pathway he'd taken the few other times he'd been there. The lab was pretty much the only place they met up. Sometimes they would go other places during the visit, but it always started and ended in the lab. Part of it was just to help Peter's image as an intern with Mr. Stark, part of it was so they could work on the suit together, and a part of it was because Peter really was genuinely interested in science.

It didn't take Peter long to get to the labs, bustling into the room with a bright, "Hey Mr. Stark!"

Mr. Stark blinked up at him before squinting and announcing, "You look tired. Did you stay up too long patrolling?"

Peter rolled his eyes, "No, I didn't. Which you probably already knew because you obsessively stalk my suit whenever it's active." Mr. Stark shrugged, unrepentant.

Pointing towards a lightly smoking Dum-E, Mr. Stark said, "He's yours today. He got a little over excited about making Rhodey some coffee and accidentally smashed himself into the counter, which caused the coffee to drop on him."

Absentmindedly petting the robot lightly, Peter started to gather what he'd need, "He's like a small child, hyperactive and so eager to please."

"Don't talk about yourself in the third person," Mr. Stark teased. His words were light-hearted, but there was a worried tint to his eyes. Peter wasn't sure if it was because he was worried on how this post-confrontation-about-Germany Peter would take the joke or if it was because Mr. Stark really was that worried about Peter's sleeping habits.

He flushed regardless, cheeks darkening dramatically as he rolled his eyes, "Oh, ha ha."

"I thought it was funny," Mr. Stark commented idly, already starting in on the project he'd been working on. Peter shook his head and got to working on Dum-E.

Peter was almost asleep inside the main box that made up Dum-E when Mr. Stark gently shook his shoulder. Peter sat up quickly, almost sending Mr. Stark toppling to the ground, "What? I'm awake!"

Mr. Stark snorted, "This isn't school, kid. Come on, I figured some food might actually wake you up."

Peter blinked at the pizza boxes stacked up in front of him and immediately made a grab for one, instantly shoving the food into his mouth.

He was two pizza slices in when he realized that Mr. Stark wasn't eating, instead staring at his hand, eyes narrowed. With a start, Peter realized that he'd taken his fingerless gloves off and had rolled up his sleeves almost to the elbows in order to work in Dum-E. And he'd forgotten to set himself back to normal in time for the pizza. Which meant that Mr. Stark was staring right at the handwriting on his skin. The handwriting that was from someone Mr. Stark had worked with for a very long time. The probably very recognizable handwriting.

Swallowing hard, Peter tried to act like nothing was wrong, that he hadn't known that Mr. Stark was staring. Maybe if he didn't say anything, then Mr. Stark wouldn't say anything.

"You know, you can tell what kind of person someone is by looking at their handwriting. Your soulmate's handwriting looks vaguely outlaw shaped," Mr. Stark said tightly. No such luck.

Peter set down his pizza and rolled down his sleeves, fitting on his gloves, "That's rude. It's also rude to stare at other people's soul writing like that. My soulmate is not an outlaw. Are there even outlaws still out there?" He hated lying. He hated it.

There was still that tight, rough, shattered quality to Mr. Stark's voice when he said, "Don't mess with me, Peter. Is that Steve Roger's handwriting on your skin?"

"No," Peter answered instantly, firmly. He hated himself for lying like that. He hated himself for being afraid of what would happen if Mr. Stark knew that he was soulmates with one of the old Avengers. He hated himself for being able to give that answer so firmly. He hated himself so much.

Mr. Stark's agonized gaze had finally switched from Peter's arm to his face. Mr. Stark's voice was low, almost hurt when he said, "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying!" Peter threw back, throwing his arms in the air and adding for good measure, "Don't you think I'd come to you if I suddenly found out that my soulmate was Captain America?"

"Would you?" Mr. Stark asked. Peter had to fight to avoid flinching at the accusations the hurt in that simple question.

Hating himself, hating the situation, hating Mr. Stark a little bit for his part in this, Peter met his eyes and said, "Yes. I would." No, he wouldn't. When did Peter get so good at lying? He sucked at lying. He bumbled and fought his way through the most ridiculous excuses. Maybe there was something to be said about the protective instincts brought out at the thought of a potential threat to his soulmate or soul bond.

Mr. Stark sighed, rubbing a hand over his face wearily, "Right, you're right. Sorry. I shouldn't have accused you like that." Peter stayed silent as Mr. Stark finally took a small bite of his pizza, almost immediately putting it back down, "Look, Peter, I've got a lot of work to catch up on and you still look exhausted. Maybe get an early night of sleep for once. You can take a couple of pies back with you. You can finish some off in the car. I'll get FRIDAY to get Happy out front for you."

"Mr. Stark-," Peter began, but Mr. Stark cut him off.

"Just, it's not your fault, kiddo. I overreacted. Go home and finish up your homework. Go to bed and don't let the various animal themed villains you seem to pick up bite. All that normal teenager jazz," Mr. Stark said, staring down at his pizza like it held the answers to every question he could ask.

Peter bit his lip, torn between staying and leaving. After a second, he sighed and said, "Goodnight, Mr. Stark."

And then he left.

It wasn't until he was safely at home, three boxes of pizza in the fridge and the remnants of the one he'd been eating through the car ride home plopped onto the middle of his bed that Peter really allowed himself to feel the guilt. It crashed into him like a title wave.

That defeated slump and crushed realization in Mr. Stark's eyes were Peter's fault. They were his fault and he told Mr. Stark a huge lie and just…

Breathing in raggedly, Peter pulled out a pen. Steve always told him to contact the older man the moment Peter started feeling like this. He ran a hand over his face before taking a huge bite out of his pizza and finding a spot that was recently freed over the top of his foot, Hey Steve.

Hey, what's up? Was Steve's almost immediate response before the man added, I hope you weren't too tired today. I didn't even think of that last night. Sorry!

It's no problem, Peter wrote back.

There was a pause and then, You okay? Appeared in Steve's handwriting. The same handwriting that Mr. Stark recognized, and Peter lied about.

Taking another shaky, ragged breath, Peter wrote back hastily, Mr. Stark recognized your handwriting and I had to lie to him about it and he just looked so sad and I hate that I did that to him. He rushed it all out before he could lose the nerve and just let it fester within him.

There was a softness to Steve's response, sympathy and pride and glowing love emanating from the words, You did what you had to do. Someday, I won't be considered a criminal and I'll come back to you in New York. And we'll go to Stark together, telling him what was going on. He loves you, I can tell. I think you're like his kid to him. He'll forgive you for lying. He'll forgive you anything because you're doing it for the right reasons. I love you

Peter wrote back a careful, I love you too.

He fell asleep sitting up in his bed with his hand pressed over Steve's words, telling himself that it was okay, and he did the right thing, and Mr. Stark wouldn't be mad at him.

Author's Note: I'd just like to note that although I am firmly Team Captain America, I don't hate Tony Stark. I think he's an idiot and the cause of most of Marvel cinema's problems, but he's too pitiful and sad and Peter loves him too much for me to fully hate. So. Just so you know. Thanks for reading!