A/N: KUNG FU PANDA 3 IS SO GOOD OKAY STOP READING GO WATCH IT ASAP
"I'll stay safe, May. I'll be okay, May. Don't worry, May, I've got this awesome new Spider-suit," May glared at Peter, "And yet here you are with a broken arm."
Peter winced, smiling genially in an attempt to smooth May's ruffled feathers, "It could have been worse?" He asked. His attempt at downplaying it.
Unfortunately (for him, at least), this only seemed to irritate May even further. "Worse!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, "It could be worse, he says, as though I'm not already worried sick about what kind of stupid, dangerous things my mutated super-son is doing out after any normal child's curfew on weekends and he comes back with a broken arm and just says it could be worse, as though that's some sort of lousy comfort, this ridiculous farce of..."
She continues for a bit, letting Peter sit and squirm awkwardly even as she finally pulls up into the parking lot of the Avengers Compound.
"And," May turns around, scowling at Peter, "You don't even call for help, you walk home by yourself, I may add, in the dark, in the city, back home and then you ask me to drive you to the compound after you've gotten to the apartment which is up how many stories, young man? Don't answer that, it was rhetorical, and despite knowing that I had to borrow the neighbour's car..."
"Aunt May," Peter says, edging toward the car door, "Can we get my arm treated first and then talk about my stupidity?"
"You... I..." May makes a growly little noise in the back of her throat, but Peter called her Aunt May, the way that he does whenever he's trying to endear himself to her, and of course it works, so May just huffs, opening the car door as angrily as she dares and opening Peter's door for him. "Go get help!"
"That's the plan," Peter agreed glibly.
May looked like a volcano, ready to explode.
Making their way into the compound was slightly worrisome, because when May was angry, typically it led to crying, and May looked very much ready to both cry and judo flip someone across the compound (possibly Peter. Except Peter was injured, which was possibly one of the reasons why he was not currently being judo flipped across the compound).
"FRIDAY?" May sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She looked suitably frazzled. "Can you get whoever can fix a broken arm and point us in the right direction?"
"The medical bay is two rooms ahead, to the left," FRIDAY answered promptly, "Some of the Avengers are already inside."
"Mr. Stark?" Peter asked hopefully.
"Not yet," There was the familiar click of heels against metal as Pepper made her way down the stairs, hair put up in an impeccable bun and dressed in a formal black dress. There was something amused, possibly annoyed, but mostly resigned in her voice. "May, it's good to see you."
"Sorry to interrupt your date night," May apologized. She sounded truly apologetic, but from her expression, you couldn't tell (locked jaw, sharp eyes, raised chin. Apologetic, but she didn't regret this). "Peter broke his arm and we're heading to the infirmary."
"It's no problem," Pepper quickly made her way down the stairs and took a moment to hug May before turning to Peter and raising an eyebrow. "Your arm isn't going to fix itself by you just standing there, kiddo."
"Oh, uh, right," Peter turned red, "Thank you, Mrs. Potts."
"Get moving," Pepper made a shooing type motion, though with a bit more tact that, say, Tony, would have done it. "I'll talk to your aunt. Scott and Bruce are in there, they can help you out."
Peter immediately brightened, "Ant-man is in there?" He chirped excitedly, anticipation rolling off of him in waves.
"Better go inside and check for yourself," Pepper smiled and Peter immediately bounced away, whispering excitedly to himself omigosh I'm going to see Ant-man I wonder if he'll show me his stuff that's so cool and the door clicked shut behind him. Pepper laughed fondly, and turned to May, "I don't suppose you'd be up for some tequila?"
"Sorry, I'm the designated driver tonight," May smiled, waving her hand in apology. "You can get back to Tony, you know. Don't let me and my kid mess with you and your man having some romance."
"It's too late, even if I wanted to do anything," Pepper sighed, "Tony's driving himself nuts now that he knows that the kid's been injured. If I tried anything with him, he'd be all distracted. Oh, yeah, you're naked, but my kid has a paper cut... I swear. It's kind of nice, but at the same time, it kind of makes it hard to have nights just to ourselves."
"I know that feeling," May chuckled, "When we first got Peter, Ben and I were so obsessed with making sure his every need was taken care of that we didn't even have a movie night. And you know how important movie nights are."
"Oh yes," Pepper laughed. Ben and May were movie fanatics, and for them to forget movie nights was a big deal. "Well, the kid has something that makes you fond of him. I can't blame you."
May hid a smile behind her hand, "And I suppose that it's not only Tony that's too worried about Peter to continue with date night?"
"Don't ruin all my secrets," Pepper sighed, bumping her shoulder against May's. "Alright, Miss Designated Driver. If you can't have any tequila, how about some tea?"
May tilted her head forward, "Tea sounds lovely," she agreed. "But do you have any leftover ice cream?"
Pepper groaned, "I'm supposed to be on a diet," she frowned.
"That's a yes," May rubbed her hands together, "Got any cookie dough?"
"Stop!" Pepper buried her face in her hands, "Diet, May, do you not understand the word?"
"Oh, I understand it perfectly," May offered Pepper a wicked smile, "I mean, you don't have to have any..."
"Okay, okay, fine!" Pepper glanced around them as though they were conspirators, and then leaned in closer to May, "I have some peanut butter cookie dough below the pork ribs in the freezer. I'll give you half if you stop talking."
"That's what I like to hear," May grinned, "Race you to the kitchen?"
"I'm in heels."
"Even better," May laughed, "I love winning."
"That's a shame," There was a glint in Pepper's eyes now, "Because you're not going to."
Pepper kicked off her heels, bright red pumps, and flew across the room, dashing in bare feet like a madwoman and May took off after her, yelling cheater! I didn't say start! and the two ended up tying, laughing and clutching their sides and eating ice cream, May's fears about Peter's broken arm long forgotten, and Pepper's concerns about her diet defenestrated.
"That was reckless, what you did," Bruce says as he finishes stitching up the gaping wound on Scott's back.
He bites back the instinctive you shouldn't have done it because that would be hypocritical and he can't say that not when he knows that he would have done the same had Tony not held him back, not when he also saw the five-year-old girl desperately trying to outrun the falling building and not when he knows that Scott was the only one who was close enough to save her.
"No worries, doc, I'm not typically this reckless," Scott says, grinning amiably, which is true typically but not when children are involved. Scott has a soft spot for them, and that tends to get him in trouble on missions like these.
"You keep telling yourself that," Bruce mutters skeptically, and he's just finished up and about to put his supplies away when FRIDAY reports.
"Spider-man has broken his arm and is coming to the infirmary for help right now."
Bruce doesn't really get a chance to respond before the doors slide open and Peter grins nervously at them, waving as he asks awkwardly, "How are Y'all doing?"
Bruce looks at Scott, narrowing his eyes when he catches the expression on Scott's face, barely managing to curse, "Don't you dare," before Scott says sorry, doc, and bursts into laughter, aggravating his wound and his stitches.
Bruce is ready to strangle someone.
Preferably Scott, but he'll take Tony if that's not possible.
(Kidding. Mostly.)
"I'm doing great," Scott says, which, no he isn't, because he's bleeding, but, okay, fine, whatever, who's Bruce to judge? "And you?"
(He's a doctor, he has every right to judge, excuse you.)
"Oh, really?" Peter brightens, "Me, too!"
"Oh, uh, really?" Scott's eyes trail to Peter's arm, "Because FRIDAY said otherwise."
"Oh, this," Peter winces, moving forward and sort of making a floppy motion at Bruce, "I, uh, broke my arm. Do you mind helping me fix it up or are you busy with something else or..."
"Take a seat over there," Bruce gestures at the spot where Scott is sitting and Scott takes this as his cue to bounce off (bounce! Not even get off slowly, he bounces like some five-year-old!).
Scott gestures grandly for Peter to sit down, and Peter complies obediently.
"How'd you get injured, kid?" Scott asks, taking a seat in Bruce's spinny chair (Bruce's! Great, how Scott's going to bleed all over it).
"Hm, this?" Peter blushes, "It's, uh, no big deal. Fighting bad guys, you know, the works."
It's very obviously not just fighting bad guys and the works, but Bruce is a bit worried that he'll hear something like "I waved to someone as Spider-man and accidentally let go of my webs while I was web-slinging" so he doesn't poke any deeper.
"I see," Scott smiles, a bit amused, and Bruce can tell that he's probably caught on as well, "You like fighting?"
Peter shrugs, "I mean, it's pretty cool, but I only really fight when I'm about to die or something so that's, uh, y'know, not cool. World ending stuff is a bit scary," he's a bit blunt about it, fairly open for someone his age, and Bruce wonders with no small amusement if that's because of him being exposed to Tony so much, "But it's fine. I'm strong, so," he grinned, "I've got an unfair advantage."
Bruce feels a smile pull at the edges of his lips, "I wouldn't know about unfair advantage," he hums, "And even if you do, it's good that you're on our side."
Peter beams, "You think so?" He asks, something akin to pride and awe in his words.
"Yeah," Bruce tilts his head to the side, "Now, you just need to stop getting injured, and then we'll talk."