Tony had never seen his double in such a state. She paced. She paced the floor in the living room. 3490 Steve sat on the back of the sofa, trying to soothe her with words, but Antonella would not be soothed. To be fair, they were all a bit worried. It had started around five o'clock. Antonella had noticed Peter wasn't back yet and said as much.
"Skateboarding," Kate answered. "He took it with him this morning."
Nothing more was said of it until dinner. It seemed odd that Peter should miss dinner. In all the time that they had been there, Tony and the other 'Alts' as they called them had never seen a dinner without one of the Rogers children (save James, who Tony didn't count). It was a weird sensation, eating without Peter, though neither Antonella nor 3490 Steve seemed particularly disturbed—dinner, it would seem, was not as mandatory as Tony had thought.
It wasn't until after dinner that either parent began to truly get concerned.
"He didn't answer my text," Antonella said to the Commander as they rose from the table, though Tony didn't see a cell phone anywhere in sight. "I'm just going to see if I can get a ping on him, ok?"
"If it'll put your mind at ease I don't think he'll mind," 3490 Steve acquiesced. Tony expected his double to go find a tablet, but she just stood there. Her eyes moved back and forth, gradually widening.
"Steve I'm not getting a signal. Oh my God, Steve, there's no signal. There's no signal from his phone—I—I'll find the last tower—" Antonella paused for a moment, her eyes moving even faster. It was freaky, really, and Tony stood frozen, watching in fascination. He wasn't the only one—the other alts were watching closely as well, though many politely pretended to be up to something else. Antonella gasped sharply. "The last ping was—it was in Manhattan, but Steve, that was hours ago, oh my God—" 3490 Steve, looking alarmed, put a hand on his wife's shoulder.
"It could just be off, Tony," he said. Antonella shook her head vehemently.
"No, he never turns his phone off. I've told him time and again not to turn it off in case something happens! It's not even off when he's at school!" she said.
"We can call out a couple of Agents, see if they can't give us a hand canvassing the area—you stay here, Tony, to let us know when Peter comes back, all right?" Steve said. James, for once, actually had a look of concern on his face.
"Can I come with you? I can give you a hand looking for him," he offered.
"Yes, please—"
"Me too," Kate volunteered. 3490 Steve considered for a moment.
"Fine, but you stay close to your brother, all right? Ok, let's get going—"
"We'll come," Natasha volunteered herself and Clint.
"Me as well," Steve chimed in.
"I shall also join you on this venture," Thor agreed. But this time, Steve shook his head.
"Thor, Captain, you both stay here. If we make this a big operation with recognizable faces, it'll get conspicuous. Romanov, Barton, you're with me. Let's head out—Tony, send me the address," 3490 Steve said.
"Already done," Antonella replied. Still in plainclothes, 3490 Steve led the search party out. That had been around seven. It was nine o'clock when Antonella was boring a hole into the ground with her feet. At 9:15, the search party returned to the mansion—there was no sign of him, nor any indication of where he might have gone. Looking in the middle of New York City was useless. Antonella informed them that she was giving it until midnight before waking up the whole of SHIELD and using every resource at her disposal to find him. 3490 Steve didn't argue. For another tense half an hour, they waited. Antonella paced. 3490 Steve tried to soothe. At 9:45 Antonella gasped.
"A ping!" she exclaimed. "He's—oh, he's coming out of the subway station at Hollis Hills. Call Happ—"
"On it," 3490 Steve said. He already had his cell phone on hand. Happy was driving around the neighborhood, still looking for Peter. He would go and pick him up at Hollis. Antonella collapsed in an armchair in relief.
"Not kidnapped," she said. "Not worse. Thank God." 3490 Steve was frowning, though.
"I wonder why we couldn't get a location on him until now," he wondered aloud. Antonella shook her head.
"Well the subway explains part of it—can't get a signal underground. He must have…he must have turned it off. That is so unlike him, I really can't believe it. He knows if something happened we wouldn't be able to trace his location," Antonella said. They discussed the matter a bit more as the Alts in the living room decided to relocate to the kitchen; Pepper had suggested they get some ice cream to cheer everyone and no one had disagreed. Even Antonella and 3490 Steve followed, though they didn't partake of the dessert. Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen door opened and Peter walked in. He looked both well rested and tired at the same time. He was sweaty, like he'd gone for a run and hadn't had time to shower.
"Hey, hey, sorry I'm late," Peter said. He sounded out of breath. 3490 Tony stood up, crossing to him.
"We were so worried," she said, partly angry, partly relieved.
"I know, I'm sorry, I—watch out!" Peter said the last bit so quickly it was barely comprehensible. He reached out and snatched at something in the air, then held it between his thumb and index finger. Even from a distance, Tony could see a tiny little wing flapping.
"That's a fly, Peter," Antonella stated in astonishment. He let the fly go.
"Yeah," he said, though it was barely audible. He followed the creature with his head and eyes for a moment as his parents (and, let's be honest, everyone else in the room) watched him, baffled.
"I'm so sorry I kept you guys up. I'm insensitive. I'm irresponsible. I'm hungry—" Peter kissed his mother on the cheek and then headed for the fridge. He opened it up and just dove right in. He pulled out a plate of leftover meatloaf from a few nights before—a truly horrendous meal, Tony had to admit—and started eating it cold.
"Meatloaf," he whispered reverently, still standing in front of the open fridge. 3490 Steve turned to Antonella and whispered,
"Drugs?" Antonella slowly shook her head.
"I don't think so…"
"This meatloaf," Peter said, aloud rather than to himself, looking beatific and thrilled to be eating, "beats all other meatloafs." Antonella turned to her husband and whispered,
"Something is very wrong."
"Yeah, nobody likes your meatloaf," 3490 Steve responded. Antonella's concerned expression dropped into one of annoyance, but they didn't have time to think too much about it. Peter was stacking all sorts of food in his arms. One thing after another went onto the pile until he was carrying things in his hands, on his arms, and clutching the tower with his chin. He started walking, heading out of the kitchen. As he left, a small tub of ice cream fell into the crook of his elbow. Antonella reached out to help, but Peter refused, walking away.
"I've got it," he assured her. Then he walked out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs to his bedroom, his parents (and the whole room) staring after him.
"He took the frozen macaroni and cheese," Antonella commented in wonder.
"I noticed that," 3490 Steve said. "MGH, you think?"
"Peter? On MGH?" Antonella asked, scandalized. "No, I don't think so. Could it be—a belated second round of puberty? Maybe your genes finally kicking in…?"
"Growth spurt?" 3490 Steve considered. "Maybe. We'll wait and see I guess. At least he's ok. We'll talk to him in the morning when he's evened out a bit." There was silence in the room, then Antonella burst out,
"Why didn't you tell me you didn't like my meatloaf?" she asked. 3490 Steve opened his mouth and then shut it again. The pair was drifting gradually out of the room. "You could have told me that twenty-six years ago! How many meatloafs have I made for you?" They left the kitchen, and just like that, the stress of the evening was over.
"Well that was weird as fuck," James voiced the dominant opinion in the room.
"Not sure 'weird as fuck' even covers it," Kate said.
"Didn't look like MGH to me at all," James mused. "But the hell else could change his reflexes like that?"
"What's MGH?" Tony interrupted.
"Mutant Growth Hormone. Designer drug. It simulates an X gene in the user for a while. So, you're at a party, everybody's drunk, and instead of getting high you decide it would be a hell of a lot more fun if you and your buddies could breathe fire or fly or whatever. Of course, there's no guaranteeing your power would be cool, but—"
"But to non-powered people any special power is cool," Kate finished. "It's been pretty popular this year. But I don't think Peter's on it."
"They've caused a hell of a lot of trouble this year, the MGH users," James said. "Making a bad name for mutants—hitting up drugstores and doing small time muggings, shit like that. I'm not sure I'd put it past little brother if he got desperate enough with that jackwad—what's his name again? Flash or some shit stupid name like that?—but that didn't look like MGH use unless his power is being enormously sweaty."
"Maybe it is just a growth spurt," Kate said with a shrug. "Super serum genes finally kicking in for him."
"Maybe," James agreed, but he didn't look convinced.
Tony, for his part, had no idea what to make of the situation. Kid was acting weird as all fuck—in his experience that meant drugs or alcohol. At any rate, it meant that he had something to hide. And Tony, well, Tony wanted to know just what that was. And Tony Stark usually got what he wanted.
