A/N: HOLY SHIT, HAVE YOU SEEN THE AVENGERS TRAILER?! It's kick ass! I can't WAIT until May 4th!
Okay, I know this next chapter was Peter-centric, but another idea struck me. I actually wrote the majority of that chapter, but changed my mind, deciding Tony needed to deal with the video coming out by giving an interview. Sorry this took so long to come out. I haven't lost interest, but I've found other hobbies that are taking up my time.
Chapter 50: The Interview
Tony's POV:
"Quit fidgeting, kiddo," I told Peter as he pulled at his bowtie.
"It's suffocating me," he whined, and I rolled my eyes before pulling it off him, and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.
"There, noose off," I told him, placing hand on each of his shoulders, and rubbing them reassuringly.
Peter gave me a nod, taking in a shaky breath. He looked at me with wide eyes and a pale face that revealed how nervous he was about all of this.
"You don't have to do this," I assured him with an easy smile. "I'm already giving my own interview, and you know I can fill up an entire hour all on my own."
"No, it's fine, Dad, I can do this," Peter insisted. "I'm just really nervous. I've never done anything like this before, and what if I say the wrong thing? What if I sound stupid? What if I embarrass you?" I stared at my panicking boy, and my heart ached for him. How many times had those thoughts gone through my head when I was a kid?
"Hey, little spider," I spoke softly as I wrapped the boy in my arms. "You could never be an embarrassment to me. Just be your regular, weird, lovable self. I can sit right with you during the interview, if you need me to, remember that."
He hid his face in my chest, inhaling deeply before breaking apart. "I can do this," he declared with more confidence that I knew he felt.
"Okay," I replied. "Just know that you can say no whenever you want, before, during, or afterwards. You understand?"
"Yes, Dad, I understand," he answered.
"Let's go," I stated, placing a hand on his back as I led him into the building. 60 minutes. I'd agreed to an interview with them after the whole shit show from two days ago when that goddamn video of my parents' murder surfaced. It'd been quite some time since I'd given an interview, and I'd chosen them because I respected the interviewer, Carol James. She was still a reporter with her own agenda, but she had a moral compass. I told her I'd answer whatever questions she wanted as long as she'd be gentle with my boy. She happily agreed.
The reason Peter was brought into this interview was because just how people were pushing me to talk about my parents' murders, people were pushing for people to give an interview about himself. He'd been adopted over half a year ago and had never given a single interview. Twice, he'd given impromptu talks to the reporters (both times to defend me, I realized), but never an official one. I'd been fending off questions and reporters for a while, but after this last incident, if Peter didn't agree to this, then I wouldn't be able to stop him from being followed and hounded constantly.
My spiderling had agreed easily, but I'd seen his nervousness even then. He didn't like being in the spotlight. He wasn't an extrovert. He wasn't me. I knew how to handle and enjoy the limelight, but Peter didn't. This was why I wasn't holding a press conference as Peter could've become overwhelmed with dozens of people staring at him and asking questions.
"Mr. Stark, it's a pleasure to see you, as always!" Carol James exclaimed, shaking my hand with both of hers.
"Carol James, you are looking as lovely as ever," I replied, gracing her with my dashing Tony Stark grin. She was a professional, though, so instead of blushing, she just raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Call me Tony, by the way," I added as I pulled Peter forward. "With two Mr. Starks in the room, it's best we go on a first name basis. I'm Tony and this is Peter, my son."
Carol's smile brightened as she extended her hand. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Peter," she said with genuine kindness, and Peter blushed as he shook her hand and replied, "Um, t-thank you. Nice to meet you too." I watched her eyes soften, and I swore she was about to coo, but thankfully professionalism won out, and she settled with a kind smile.
It was decided that I would be interviewed first, half the show being dedicated to my thoughts regarding my parents' murders. The second half would be dedicated to getting to know Peter. My kid would be frontloaded questions to review as I went through my interview, and I could sit in on or intervene in Peter's interview if I felt the need to. I also had final say on whether his part of the interview would be broadcast. If not, I agreed to filling up the entire broadcast with questions of their choosing.
To top it all off, and to satiate the media's curiosity for at least a couple months, I agreed to a photo shoot at the Avengers tower for Time magazine. Tony, Nat, Bruce, Vision, and Pepper all agreed to give statements and take pictures showing what life was like in Avengers tower. Peter would be photographed, but not interviewed. Oh yeah, and Anthony would be photographed as well. According to Peter, the mutt was ecstatic. Thankfully, he couldn't talk. Who knows what story the dog would come up with.
Peter and I were taken into a dressing room where we were both sat down. Make-up artists approached us, and I couldn't help but smirk at how the majority of them went over to Peter. The girls either cooed or flirted with him, and I watched as he squirmed and blushed. When his face took on a panicked expression, I decided to speak up.
"Ladies and gentleman, my young son is considered jailbait, and potentially a very expensive sexual harassment law-suit," I called out casually, and the gal working on my face snorted in amusement when several of her co-workers fell silent, and some even blushed. Thankfully, all but one dispersed, leaving my thoroughly embarrassed spiderling alone.
"Okay, Mr. Stark, you're all set," the woman working on me stated with a shy smile, and I grinned back before getting up. Peter was handed a sheet of paper with the questions he could be asked. I walked over and roved my eyes over them. Nothing too deep, it seemed.
"You can always say no," I reminded him, and he nodded distractedly, no doubt attempting to figure out what his answers would be.
"Doesn't look too bad," he mumbled, and I had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair, lest I ruin it.
"You ready, Tony?" Carol asked, looking us both over approvingly, and we both nodded.
"Okay, Peter, please sit on over here. You'll be able to watch Tony's interview," she explained, and my kid flicked his eyes to me. I gave him a grin that he returned, before he walked over to his seat. Carol motioned for me to sit on the couch across from her, and I did so.
"Let's get things started," I declared grandly, arms spread wide. Carol smirked at me before motioning for the cameras to start rolling.
The questions started easy as she was just confirming facts. She asked how I originally saw the video, and I was mostly honest, telling her that Zemo had lured me and rogers to Siberia separately, where he'd shown us the video to tear us apart; and that it'd worked. I'd gone after the Winter Soldier, and he'd stopped me.
"That must've been incredibly difficult, Tony," Carol responded sympathetically. "Steve Rogers was your friend, yet he not just stopped you, but he fought against you as well. Do you think your friendship can ever be repaired?"
"Yes," I answered immediately, and her eyebrows rose in shock and disbelief. "I'm pissed, of course, and it'll take time and work, but I can see us being friends again." This was truth. I was not just willing, but I wanted to be friends with Steve again, despite how self-righteous and infuriating he could be.
"Even though he's best friends with your parents' murderer? Even though he's not signed the Sokovian Accords?" she pressed curiously.
"I have no love for Bucky Barnes," I admitted softly. "I'll never be able to get the image of what he did out of my head, but I've had enough time to see past the rage I felt the first time I saw that video, meaning I won't try and kill him if I see him again. I know he was brainwashed. I know what Hydra did to him, and that he wasn't in control when he was sent out to…do whatever they wanted him to," I explained. "As for the Accords, nothing lasts forever," I stated with a cryptic smile. Carol narrowed her eyes, but I spoke again before she did. "Admittedly, repairing my friendship with the old man would be easier if I could actually talk to him, but I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. I'd also like to punch him in the face, to be honest," I added amusedly.
"Let's go back to the video," Carol redirected, her voice turning gentle. "What was going through your mind as you watched it? You admitted to attacking the Winter Soldier afterwards, so clearly you felt anger."
I let out a sigh. I was more than prepared for this question, but that didn't make it any easier to answer. I didn't owe the people of America or the world any explanation, but as always, my opinion didn't matter. They felt they had the right to know every last piece of every minute of my life; and, not just what happened, but what I thought as well. Hurray, me, I thought sarcastically.
"My first reaction was shock," I told her. "I've thought since I was sixteen that my parents died in a car accident, and to be honest, I'd even thought that my dad must've been drunk." I looked down at my hands briefly in shame before shooting Carol a grim smile. "Everyone knows I didn't have the best relationship with my dad. We just didn't see eye to eye, and I was a dumb kid who did everything possible to piss him off. I still loved him, though, and I knew he loved me. My mom, on the other hand, we always had a great relationship. I never doubted her love for me." I paused now, reining in the sorrow that coursed through me.
"Watching them die—no, not just die, but be murdered on that video was…I can't even put it into words how horrible it was," I recounted morosely. "I watched my dad crawl out of his car, begging –The Great Howard Stark—begging for someone to help my mom. Barnes pulled him up by his hair, and my dad, y'know, he recognized him. They knew each other from way back," I explained, a humorless laugh escaping me. "Barnes bashed his face in, and then calmly placed him back in the car. With an expressionless face, he then walked to the passenger seat, and choked the life out of my mother." I gritted my teeth tightly, swallowing back my emotions. Instead of looking at Carol, my eyes went to my kid, who looked to me with eyes full of sympathy. He looked ready to rush over and hug me, and that managed to bring a small smile to my face.
Carol's expression was mournful at she watched me, and she gave me a few moments to compose myself before speaking again. "Why did you lie to the reporters when they confronted you?"
I smiled as I shot her and the camera a weary look. "The media has recorded my every moment from the day I was born," I told her, only letting mild bitterness escape me. "All my triumphs and mistakes, but, mostly my mistakes, because that's jucier gossip. Every part of my life is on the internet for anyone to Google. Everybody believes because they've read and seen my life that they know who I am, and that they can judge me. They believe they have the right to know not just details of what happened, but of what I think about." Carol's expression turned guilty first and then ashamed as I spoke, so I shot her a gentle smile to let her know I wasn't upset with her. "I wanted to keep this tragedy to myself," I confessed softly. "I wanted to mourn them on my own and without cameras in my face like when I was sixteen. I should've known better, though," I remarked with a shrug.
"Peter, your son, told the reporters the truth, which is why you're here, isn't it?" she asked, and I nodded my head.
"Yup," I answered. "I don't blame him, though," I quickly asserted, flicking my eyes over to Peter, who looked apologetic. "The truth always comes out eventually. I lied because I was shocked, and not really ready to deal with my feelings regarding their murders publicly. This is my life," I declared, charming grin in place and arms spread wide. "I'm here to set the record straight on my thoughts regarding the video, and to disregard the ridiculous claim that I had anything to do with their murders," I growled lowly. "I was a dumb, sixteen-year old college kid struggling to be an adult when my parents were killed. Hydra were the bad guys from bedtime stories, and I had no idea SHIELD even existed until I became Iron Man, despite the fact that both my father and Aunt Peggy were the founders."
"Yes, I've seen those claims, and I for one never in my wildest dreams believed them to be true," Carol remarked firmly. "In fact, anyone with a brain cell wouldn't have. This was just reporters looking to make a dime."
"I know," I responded, "but that doesn't mean there aren't a bunch of idiots out there who bought it. Anyhow, talking about the video was only one reason I wanted to do this interview. The second reason, which I find the more important one is regarding my son."
Carol's expression turned curious. "What would you like to say?"
My expression turned serious as I looked first at her, and then the camera. "The media can attack me all they want, but my son, Peter, is off limits. This is non-negotiable. I've lived my whole life dealing with people putting their noses into my business, but he won't go through that. I used to wish my parents would protect me, but they didn't, and that made me angry with them. Peter didn't grow up the way I did. He's not used to being followed and bombarded, or having people look into his life; so, leave him be," I ordered, voice and eyes hardening for only the briefest of moments before relaxing.
Carol nodded, voicing her agreement, and beginning to talk about how vicious paparazzi and journalists could be when searching for a story. The rest of our conversation went easily, Carol asking about my relationship with Peter, which I was all too happy to talk about. I spoke of how much I loved him and how proud of him I was. "He makes every day a great one," I explained with a happy smile. "I never thought I'd be a dad, but it's the best thing that's ever happened to me. He's so good, and as I've stated before, he makes me want to be better. I don't drink anymore. I don't party. I stay home when I'm not working, and I spend time with him and Pepper. We do family things like watching movies, going on hikes, and having dinner together. I know it sounds surreal and so un-Tony like, but it's the truth. Life is good."
Our interview ended shortly afterwards, and the camera was turned off. Peter rushed over and gave me a hug that I happily returned. I noticed not just Carol, but several female staff mentally cooing at the scene, and I resisted rolling my eyes.
Carol approached us when we pulled apart, and said, "Thank you, Tony, for being so candid and open. I must admit, I didn't expect you to be."
I smiled, before responding, "Yeah, I know. Honesty has never quite been my forte with the media. Things are different now, though."
"I can see that," she remarked, eyes flicking from Peter back to me. "Fatherhood looks good on you."
"I know," I stated cheekily, and she laughed while Peter snorted. Looking down at my boy, I then asked, "You ready?" He stiffened, anxiety entering his eyes. "Remember," I said for the umpteenth time, "You don't have to do this. I'm sure Carol here has many more questions she'd like to ask me if you're not up for this." I shot the woman a look, and she immediately nodded her head.
"We always have questions for you, Tony," she remarked, giving my son a kind look. "Take your time Peter, and let us know. No one here will force you to do anything you don't want to."
Peter seemed to relax some at his words before he took in several deep breaths. "I'm good," he told us both firmly, and I wasn't so sure he was telling the truth. He did seem determined, though, so I didn't argue. "Let's get this over with," he then said, and Carol's eyes went to mine questioningly. I nodded, and she led Peter over to the couch I'd been sitting at, setting him up with a microphone. I resisted the urge to sit with him during the interview. He wanted to do this on his own.
Peter's POV:
"You ready?" Carol asked nicely, and I nodded my head, even though I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready. What if I froze? What if I said something stupid? What if I embarrassed Tony? What if I said something I wasn't supposed to? What if I made a fool of myself? What if I started crying or something? Everybody at my school was no doubt going to see or hear about this, so how would I live if I acted like an idiot?
I glanced over at my dad, and he graced me with a reassuring smile. Damn it. That look alone make me want to start crying, so I focused my eyes back on Carol, who was talking to one of her cameramen. Dad had done just fine. More than fine, actually, he'd been brilliant. He was well spoken, not stuttering even once. He didn't cry or say anything stupid, even though he was talking about his parents' murder.
He's also been doing this his whole life, another part of my brain reminded me. I hadn't, so that probably meant I'd come off looking stupid. God, why did I agree to this?
I winced when lights focused on me. Did they have to be so damn bright? And, they were so warm. I could feel myself sweating in this uncomfortable dress shirt. I hated dressing formally. It was uncomfortable, and scratchy, and too stiff. Dad had insisted I needed to look good, though, and I deferred to him, but I still wished I could've worn something less starchy.
Carol began to speak, introducing me to a fake audience before asking me my first questions.
"How are you, Peter?" she asked, and I felt my heart hammering. Answer, you freaking idiot!
"I'm good," I replied, relieved that my voice didn't crack or come out in a whisper.
"Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview," she stated. "America, if not the world, has been eager to get to know Tony Stark's adopted son. I can understand how scary that can be, though, especially when you grew up outside the spotlight, am I right?"
Really? She wanted me to admit to being scared? This wasn't on the list of questions, I thought dismally.
Maybe because they're just introduction questions, Peter. Quit being a dork.
"It's been tough," I admitted. "I went from nobody caring who I was to everybody caring who I was. School was crazy."
"I bet it was," she stated with an understanding smile. "Did you have friends by your side to help you get through it?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely," I promptly answered with a true smile. "They've helped me get through the change, and they don't treat me any differently. It's a relief having something from…from before," I said, alluding to before my adoption.
"Is there a special lady in your life, or…" she trailed off, eyebrow raising suggestively, and I couldn't fight off the blush.
"I have a girlfriend," I admitted, "and she's the best. Keeps me grounded and sane."
She grinned, remarking how helpful friends could be, and how happy she was that I had people I could still trust. "One of the hardest things about being famous is finding genuine friends with no agenda," she said, and I nodded in agreement.
"Let's turn the clocks back now, Peter," Carol said. "Your parents died when you were three years old. A plane accident, right? And, then your aunt and uncle adopted you?"
"Yes, that's right," I replied, voice softening as I realized the topic was going to get more emotional.
"Do you remember your parents at all?" she asked, her tone gentle.
"Not really," I told her honestly. "I have a couple short flashes of memory like my mom reading me a story, and being carried on my dad's shoulders."
"Does it hurt to think about them?" she pressed, and I shook my head negatively. "It hurts knowing my parents died, but I never knew them, and the only reason I know what they look like is because of pictures"
She nodded her head in understanding. "How was life like with your aunt and uncle?" she then questioned.
"It was great," I told her. "They loved me very much, and they did everything they could to give me a good life. We weren't rich, but we weren't exactly poor either. We were like every other family, y'know?" I remarked with a light shrug. I wasn't sure what exactly she wanted to know, but I also didn't want to start getting into personal details.
"I do," she said with a gentle smile. "Your average American family," she said, and I nodded, relieved she wasn't pushing for more details. Carol looked down at some notes she had, and her expression was gentle and hesitant as she began to speak again. "You had eleven blissful years in a happy family, and then tragedy struck again with the death of your uncle when you were fourteen? What was that like?"
"He was murdered," I blurted out without thinking, reddening when her eyes turned curious. "A-a, um, it was a mugger. He shot him in cold blood," I told her angrily, my mind flashing back to the day. Running from home because I'd been angry. My uncle out looking for me, only to be gunned down for no goddamn reason.
"That must have been awful," Carol spoke sympathetically. "You were already working the Stark Internship at that point, weren't you?"
"Yeah, I'd been there for only about a month when it happened," I responded, hoping she wouldn't ask a lot of questions as I sucked at lying. "My aunt and I managed to move on, though. We got an apartment since we lost my uncle's income, but we were doing well. Having Tony come into my life at that point was a huge help," I admitted, speaking the truth. "Having that internship gave me a purpose. It took up my time, so that I didn't dwell on Uncle Ben's death."
"Tony mentioned previously that he'd go and spend time with you at your apartment because your aunt requested it? Can you tell me about that?" Carol requested curiously.
I smiled in amusement, recalling those days fondly. "Yeah, my aunt was really protective of me, and she didn't care who Tony was. If I was going to be spending so much time around him, then she wanted to get to know him."
"What was it like to have the Tony Stark, Iron Man, taking such interest in you?" she pressed. "I imagine it must've been shocking."
"It was shocking," I spoke in agreement. "I mean, I grew up as a huge fan of all the Avengers. My best friend and I used to watch all news footage on them, and we had costumes and toys, and…God, that's embarrassing, isn't it?" I mumbled more to myself, covering my reddening face with my hands.
Carol laughed as she shook her head. "Not at all, Peter. It makes perfect sense."
"Yeah, so he was, like, my hero, and then one day I meet him, and it was just crazy," I recounted, being purposefully vague on details. "The first couple months we knew each other I couldn't help but be nervous around him, worried I'd say something stupid or that I'd annoy him or something. As time went on, though, I found myself relaxing around him, and our conversations weren't so forced or one-sided anymore. I got to know who he really was. A kind, caring, crazy old man," I declared with a large grin, that caused Carol to laugh. A glance to my right showed Tony, eyes glinting in amusement.
"Is it safe to assume, Tony became sort of a father-figure for you at this point in your life? Seeing as your uncle was dead, it was only natural for him to take on that role, wasn't it?" she asked, and I frowned lightly.
"He was, but I never planned on it being that way. Like I said," I told her, "he was my hero first, and then a mentor. But, yeah, as the months went on and we got closer, I did start to see him like that."
"Did you talk to him about that?" Carol prodded, and I shook my head.
"No way," I responded instantly, "that would've been mortifying. I still couldn't get it out of my head that I was just Peter Parker and he was Tony Stark. I was embarrassed that I started to look to him like a dad, so I never told him as I was afraid he'd make fun of me or not want to see me anymore. Stupid, I know."
"No, no, not at all," Carol reassured me. "I imagine I would've reacted the same, honestly. Your situation was unbelievable, and, well, I'm sure you've heard this, but it's like something out of a movie."
"I know," I spoke grimly. "I've been called the real life Annie," I grumbled, and she laughed once more in amusement.
"A much better looking and charming Annie," she corrected, and I couldn't help but smile back at her.
Her expression then turned serious and grim, and I knew what topic she was about to broach. This was the one thing I'd feared talking most about. Aunt May's death. My heart began to pound, and my palms sweat. I yanked at my collar, even though it wasn't buttoned up.
"Tell us about your aunt's death. You were the one to find her, correct?" Carol asked, and my mind immediately went back to that morning. I gripped my pants tightly, the memory of my dead aunt sitting slumped over on her bed filling my mind. The horror, panic, and devastation I'd felt hit me, and my heart beat even faster. I was sure the microphone had to be picking up on the sound. My breathing rate increased, and I looked over to Tony, and the second our eyes met, he was on his feet, rushing over to me. My head was pounding, so I didn't hear what he said to Carol. I did notice, though, when he knelt before me and placed his gentle hands on both sides of my face.
"Hey, pal, look at me," he spoke softly. "Let's take some deep breaths, okay? In and out. In and out. Good boy, there you go," he said soothingly, arms sliding down to my shoulders that he began to rub. When I regained my ability to hear again, I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around him. I was shaking, and tears fell down my face in both sorrow and embarrassment. He held me tightly, caressing the back of my head. I soaked in his comfort, inhaling his Tony smell. When I felt in control of myself, I broke apart and looked him in the eyes apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered in shame.
"None of that," he chided lightly. "You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"I acted like a baby," I argued, and he shook his head, giving me a loving smile as he wiped stray tears from my face.
"You did no such thing," he refuted firmly. "Now, do you want to continue, or call it quits? There's no shame is saying you're done," he reminded.
"I wanna finish," I stated, not wanting to come off like some wimp. It was just a dumb interview. I could do this.
"Peter," Dad sighed, "giving me a searching look. You don't need to prove anything to anyone, and this is not mandatory. No one will think differently if you decide to stop now."
"He's right, Peter," Carol spoke up softly. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do," I argued more resolutely. "I'm going to finish." I gave both determined looks, although it was kind of ruined by the fact that one of my hands was tightly gripping on to Tony's vest.
Dad sighed heavily before looking to Carol. "I'm going to sit in with him for the rest of the interview," he declared, and she nodded. I opened my mouth to protest, but he gave a curt shake of his head.
"I sit in, or we call it quits," he said, so I said nothing. Truthfully, I felt a lot better knowing he'd be by my side for the rest of this.
"Okay," Carol said, eyeing me with pity, "let's start back with your aunt's death, but I'll skip that question. I'll just ask you about how you ended up in Tony's care." I eagerly agreed, not wanting to recount the horror of discovering Aunt May's body. Carol spoke a few words to the camera men as Dad and I situated ourselves on the couch. We didn't sit close enough to touch, but he did put his arm on the back of the couch, which allowed him to lightly caress the back of my head if he wanted. Just having him close by was a huge help. Already I felt an upsurge in confidence, and I found myself copying his casual, laidback posture. By the quirk in his lips, I knew he noticed what I was doing. Dumb, observant, old man.
Carol counted down from 3, and the cameras and those blindingly, annoying lights were back on. She turned her attention to Tony first. "Thank you for joining us again, Tony. I should've known I couldn't keep you away from the camera," she teased.
"Oh, you know me, Carol. I'm a sucker for the limelight," he spouted with his famous Tony Stark grin. Carol and I both shared looks of amusement.
"Hmm, I just realized something. You two are wearing identical outfits," she commented, looking at us in continued amusement.
"Pepper," we responded in unison, and she gave us a look of understanding. "I can't be trusted to dress appropriately, apparently," Tony added with a roll of his eyes, although his loving smile revealed he wasn't annoyed.
Carol's expression turned serious once more as her focus was back on me. "Well, let's move the topic back to you, Peter. It was a little over a year after you uncle's death, that your aunt passed away from a tragic brain aneurysm," she stated. "How did you end up in Tony's care?"
"I was at the hospital, and the cops were asking me about who I was going to stay with. They told me that if I didn't have anybody, then I would have to go with them," I recounted, shuddering slightly at the memory of how scared I'd been. "The only person I could think of was Tony. Unfortunately," I added with a grim smile, "I didn't have my phone on me, so I didn't have his number. I told the nurse and cops to call him, but obviously, they didn't believe me. My best friend showed up, telling me he'd called Tony, but that he hadn't answered. The cops didn't believe either one of us, and they were starting to take me away when Tony showed up," I told her, a huge grin appearing on my face. "He was in his Iron Man suit, and he politely told them to let me go. It was awesome."
"You were already my kid then," Dad stated, a smug look on his face. "I wasn't going to let anybody take you anywhere."
"Well, he took me to his place, and the day after the funeral, he and Pepper asked to adopt me, and I said yes. That's pretty much it," I told her, sharing a reminiscent smile with my dad.
"What went through your head when they asked you?" Carol pressed. "I can't even imagine what would've been going through my mind."
"Honestly, I was relieved," I confessed. "I was worried about where I was going to end up, so when they asked, I didn't even hesitate. I just said yes. You see, by that point, he and Pepper were already family to me, so it seemed only natural to agree." Tony ruffled my hair affectionately, and I slapped his hand lightly.
"What has life been like these past eight months?" Carol inquired. "You're living at the former Avengers tower where, if I'm not mistaken, Vision, the Black Widow, and Dr. Banner also reside. What is that like?"
"It's amazing," I told her, a fond grin on my face. "It can get crazy at times, but they're just people, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. To me, they're like my aunts and uncles. They're fun to hang out with, but they can be annoying as well."
"Do you ever get the urge to join them on some missions? Do you plan on taking up the Iron Man mantle after your father retires?" she asked eagerly, and I blinked in surprise, never having considered it. From my peripheral vision, I noticed Tony sported a raised eyebrow.
"No way," I answered, shaking my head firmly and gracing her with an askance expression. "I just—I don't think I'm hero material, and I can't imagine Dad ever retiring. I mean, obviously he won't do it forever, but I've never once thought of taking on the mantle. I don't think anybody could ever be Iron Man, because that's just who he is. It's not the suit that makes the hero."
Carol's eyebrows rose at my words. "Very wide words for one as young as you."
"I have my moments," I stated cheekily, and Dad gave a snort that he morphed into a cough when I shot him a glare.
"I can see just from these past few minutes that you two have a very close relationship," Carol assessed softly. "One would think you'd known each other for more than just a couple of years."
I shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "I guess we just connected," I said lamely.
"I would have to agree," Carol responded.
The interview ended shortly afterwards, and I let out a huge sigh of relief when the lights were taken out of my face. When the microphone was taken off me, I couldn't help but turn and hug Tony tightly. "I did it!"
I felt his chest rumbling with laughter as he returned the hug. "You sure did, pal," he stated, kissing the top of my head. "Let's head home, round up the gang, and go stuff our faces with junk food."
I enthusiastically agreed.
Carol thanked us for our time, assuring Tony she'd let him see a copy of the interview before it aired. I relaxed at knowing Tony would be able to cut out any embarrassing parts. I certainly didn't want anybody to see me freaking out.
As we walked out, I could only hope that this would answer a lot of questions for people, and that it would keep reporters off my back for a bit. I had heard Tony pretty much threaten people to leave me alone. Part of me was embarrassed, but a larger part of me was relieved and appreciative.
Now, all I had to put up with was some pictures. Dad said that unlike the rest of my family, I wouldn't be required to answer any questions. Instead, I "just had to smile and look like my adorably, charming self", according to Dad. Good thing was, after the dratted picture show, it was Christmas…my first Christmas as a member of the Stark family.
Steve's POV:
"It's starting, it's starting, it's starting!" Scott cried out, and I smiled at how enthusiastic he sounded. He seemed to be the only one, but probably because he had no real connection to Tony. The only time they'd met was during that battle. The others, while they were gathered around the TV, were no where near as excited as Scott to watch the special on Tony and his son, Peter, who I knew was Spider man.
I sat myself down on the couch next to Clint, who looked conflicted. He and Tony had been close, yet Clint felt utterly betrayed by the events that had occurred. He fluctuated between aloofness and curiosity, anger and sorrow. One thing that didn't change, however, was his longing to be back with not just his family, but the other Avengers.
Our location today was Spain. Somehow, we were slowly making our way closer towards the United States. I didn't think it'd be long before we headed back to the Americas. We'd been keeping up to date with the news, glad to finally know what was going on in the world. As such, everyone knew now about Bucky having killed Tony's parents. To say I wasn't everyone's favorite person now, was an understatement. Nobody but Bucky, T'Challa, and I had known what had really gone down in Siberia, but now they did, and they weren't at all happy that I'd kept this information from them.
Truthfully, they were more upset by the fact that I'd kept this information from them rather than the fact that Bucky killed Tony's parents. At least, this helped sway some of their feelings in favor of Tony. They understood why he tried to kill Bucky, even if they didn't all agree (Sam and Scott). None of them were happy either when they found out I'd just left Tony injured with a non-functioning suit abandoned in Siberia. Their shock and disappointment hit me hard, yet I couldn't argue against it. In hindsight, it'd been a terrible thing to do, just assuming he'd be able to get himself out of that situation. I hadn't even known how injured he was as I'd helped my old friend get to safety. I felt guilty that my only concern at the moment had been on Bucky, not Tony.
That guilt only intensified when I'd seen Tony's face as journalists bombarded him with that video. He's been completely caught off guard, shock and sorrow in his eyes before his mask had fallen back in place. He'd denied the validity of the video, but his son had blown that cover. I supposed this is what led Tony to doing an actual interview. Despite how much he seemed to love attention, he wasn't one to give more than a few statements to a reporter. To actually do an interview was rare, and it'd only happened twice since I'd known him. Once, after the battle with the Chitauri in New York, and then after the battle with Ultron in Sokovia. I assumed he was trying to gain control of the situation as he had those two previous times.
So, here we all were, in some hotel room we'd broken into preparing to see what Tony had to say.
"Alright, everybody, shut up and sit down. If we're watching this crap, then I'd at least like to hear it," Sam ordered irritably, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Scott just rolled his eyes as Wanda sat herself on the floor, her back leaning against Clint's legs.
The interview started, and as I watched, I found my body relaxing, but my heart aching to be home. I relaxed because Tony looked okay. He didn't have bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his eyes didn't have that dark, haunted look to them that I'd gotten used to seeing on him since Ultron. He looked healthier than he had in a while, his skin not as pale, and he'd bulked up a little. He looked healthy and happy, and while I was genuinely happy for him, I also couldn't help but feel jealous. Yes, the great Captain America could feel jealousy. Here I was on the run, never in one place for too long, and always worrying about getting caught; and then, there he was living the life. I shook my head of those notions. Tony had every right to be happy. I couldn't begrudge him that.
As I listened to him, I also felt relief that he didn't even hesitate when asked if he and I could ever be friends again. While he admitted to not being a fan of Buck (no surprise there), he was open to welcoming me back no problem. It was nice to know that, but I still wasn't ready to return. The Accords were still in place, and I wasn't ready to give in. The government had no business in controlling who we fought and when. Still, I could tell from his few words that he still cared about me despite everything that had taken place, and that warmed my heart.
The point where I felt the most astonished of all was when Tony began to talk about Peter, his son. I'd known the man for years, but I'd never seen Tony talk about anyone the way he did Peter. He was practically gushing. He openly admitted to loving the teen, and from the look on his face, I didn't doubt that at all. I still found it so strange, though, thinking of Tony as a dad. It just didn't fit the mold of the man I knew. Was I really that blind? Ignorant? Shallow?
His interview ended, and Peter's began. Knowing that he was both Spider man and Tony's son, I was immensely curious to watch this, not so much for what he would say, but what his expressions and actions would reveal. As soon as the young man appeared on screen, Clint let out a loud, disbelieving laugh.
"Holy crap, he's Spider man," Clint exclaimed, shaking his head. "No wonder Stark adopted him. I couldn't understand why he'd take in some random kid, no matter how tragic their life was, but now it all makes sense."
"You think he just took the boy in because he is a super hero?" Wanda asked, and Clint just shrugged. I was glad to see him not immediately say, yes, because I certainly didn't think that was the truth.
"He's sixteen," Sam murmured. "Jesus, what the hell was Stark thinking getting a kid that young involved in this life? He was in Germany. What if we'd hurt him?"
"He seemed to handle himself pretty well," Scott remarked, a light frown on his face as he watched the interview.
"Let's save judgment until the interviews over," I stated, and everyone fell silent, at least for the moment.
We watched the kid's interview, and I saw immediately how uncomfortable and nervous he was. And god, did he look so young. I couldn't believe this scrawny teen was Spider man, the guy I'd fought in Germany. It certainly explained his chatter and naivete. Hearing about the tragedy he'd faced at such a young, my heart went out to him. First his parents died, and then his uncle and aunt. I wondered at what point Peter became Spider man. Was it before or after his uncle's death? Did it have an influence on him?
"When do you think Stark met Peter?" Wanda asked curiously. "He never mentioned him before."
"Not really surprising," I replied to her. "He wasn't an Avenger any more, and he was never one to fully open up to us. Maybe he knew Peter before Germany, or maybe he didn't. All I can say is that it's obvious they both love each other. They can't fake that." Next to me, I saw Clint nodding his head. His eyes were fixed on the television, and I once again saw the longing he had to be with his family.
At one point, the scene changed, and Tony appeared next to Peter. He said it's because he loves the attention, but I knew he was there for Peter. Right away, I noticed the difference in the young hero's emotions. While still nervous, he was more relaxed and confident. I also noticed, with a smile, that he mirrored the way Tony was sitting or talking. It was downright adorable.
Peter continued to answer questions, describing how he ended up in Tony's care. While listening, I found my eyes wandering to Tony's, taken aback by how gentle and caring he was coming off. His arm was draped over the back of the chair, but there was a protectiveness to his positioning. Every once in a while, I watched his hand rubbing at Peter's neck or shoulder, noting how Peter relaxed every time, even leaning into the touch. It was the look in Tony's eyes, though, that surprised me the most. There was a softness in them that I'd never witnessed before. He looked at the teen with so much love and affection, emotions I wasn't sure he'd ever be comfortable expressing.
"He's a good dad," Clint remarked softly, a small smile adorning his face.
"Yeah," Scott agreed, a wistful look on his face as he no doubt thought of his daughter.
I just nodded my head while Wanda and Sam remained silent. They didn't look to be in disagreement, though, just taken aback.
The interview ended, and I was glad I'd decided to watch it. I'd initially decided to watch it because I wanted to hear Tony's thoughts regarding his parents' murders, wondering if he was still furious. I'd gotten a lot more than that, though. Tony was different. Or, maybe he was showing his true self for the first time. Whatever it was, it was like he'd matured. I could only contribute this to Peter. That teen seemed to have changed his life, and for the better. I wanted even more than ever to meet him.
"Weird, huh?" Clint remarked as he eyed me knowingly. He seemed to have assessed the same things I had.
"Yeah," I answered.
Scott began flipping through channels, and I wondered what he was looking for. It quickly became obvious, though, when we found ourselves watching footage being taken inside Avengers tower. What in the world? Tony had once said he'd never allow reporters in his home, but what I was looking at now was the common room. My heart suddenly ached fiercely at the familiar room. God, I missed home so much. Blinking, I realized that Avengers tower was the only place I'd considered home since I'd woken up in this century. It was the only place I'd truly felt comfortable and happy.
The special was on the Entertainment channel, describing the photoshoot Tony had allowed, which included the other Avengers. It was a way of showing the world that they were regular people. I watched with a grin as Tony leaned close to Natasha, whispering something in her ear that caused the normally stoic woman to actually laugh aloud. Tony's expression was smug as he broke apart, and Bruce, next to him just rolled his eyes in exasperation. Vision looked uncomfortable, but every time he looked to the others, his expression was one of affection. Footage changed to Tony pulling Pepper into his arms, twirling her around slowly, as they both just stared into one another's eyes. The way they looked at each other, it was obvious they were in love. Way to go, Tony, I couldn't help but think, immensely happy that he'd gotten back together with Pepper. Peter joined the footage, a dog at his heels that caused me to raise an eyebrow. Peter's grin was nervous, but it became wider as Tony reached over to ruffle his hair affectionately. The special was brief, only ten minutes long, informing viewers that they could tune in to next week's issue of Time magazine for photographs and interviews. I filed away the notion to buy one.
The TV was turned off, and we were all deep in thought. Once again, I found myself jealous of the sheer bliss my old friends were feeling. They seemed to truly being enjoying themselves, content in each other's presences. It was like they didn't need us or miss us the way we did them.
"Nat was wearing my sweater, did you notice?" Clint remarked quietly, his eyes happy yet sad at the same time. I shook my head, not having noticed that.
"They seem really happy," Wanda commented, and I noticed longing in her tone. Longing for normalcy and family as we all were.
"Anybody else feeling really jealous of them right now?" Scott asked sheepishly, and everyone gave a nod, even Sam who seemed to hold the most resentment towards the other's.
I stood up and headed towards the window, looking out into the dark sky. I wanted to see them badly. I didn't want to talk just on the phone, but in person. Even if we didn't come to an agreement on the Accords, I still cared about them. They were more than just teammates or friends. They were family, a fact that I'd allowed myself to forget during all this political nonsense.
I let out a weary sigh, thinking it was time I made a call this time. Christmas was tomorrow, so perhaps we could all call and wish them a merry Christmas. They'd called on Thanksgiving, so I didn't think they'd mind. Running a hand over my bearded face, I turned back to the others, wondering how I could make tomorrow special for us. We all deserved to have some fun after all we'd been through. Scott, the least known of us all could no doubt go out and get a festive meal for us, and even some gifts.
Thinking over what would be a good gift, I came to a decision. It was time to head home, at least for a short visit. I was under no illusion that we could stay there for more than a couple days. No matter our views on the Accords, I knew Tony would help keep us safe for that brief time. Grinning, I felt my heart lift at the mere thought of returning to New York. Yes, this would be a wonderful Christmas gift.
A/N: Okay, not my fave chapter, but I felt the need to give you something. Lots of ideas go through my head, but finding a way to get them out in a good manner is more difficult. Definitely time for some action, but I don't feel like I can skip over Christmas. I'm getting closer to getting our rogue Avengers home, but I'm unsure how I'm going to get their fugitive status revoked. What changes could be made to the Accords that would convince them to give in?
