"On opening the door, she perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in earnest conversation: and had this led to no suspicion, the faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each other, would have told it all." - Pride and Prejudice, ch. 55

When Wanda returns, she does it alone. No Leedses, no Michelle, no formal invitation to dinner. They aren't even expecting her. Actually, it's the morning after the dinner party and they aren't expecting anyone. She's there for maybe five minutes, talking to Peter and his dad, and jittery the whole time. She says something about how she didn't really have time to step out, she has prep to do in the kitchen in advance of another evening cooking at the Park. Peter wonders why that wouldn't be somebody else's job, since she's the owner and head chef, but Wanda doesn't give him time to ask. Vision doesn't even make it to the door before she's gone. Tony calls after her, telling her to stop by again and she waves back. When Peter and his dad consult about it, they can't determine whether or not the wave means she's coming back.

She does though, the next afternoon. Again, Wanda doesn't let them know she's on her way over, and from the expression on her face, Peter guesses that these visits are pretty spontaneous, like she starts heading to the compound before she can talk herself out of it. The Starks just ate lunch and are scattering to their respective corners of the building at the moment of her arrival. Peter's half-changed into gym clothes―because the weather's nice and he thinks he'll go for a run outside―when his dad's frantic voice rings out in his room with FRIDAY's assistance, asking him to go talk to Wanda. His dad's occupied with tracking down Vision.

Tony finds him helping Morgan with her Social Studies homework, banging his wheel into his daughter's doorframe in his haste.

"Move it, Vision! Wanda's downstairs. Faster than that," he says, motioning with one hand as Vision begins to carefully straighten Morgan's books and push slowly back from her homework table.

"But we―" Vision begins.

"Now, Vision! Ocean food chains can wait!"

Morgan sticks her tongue out at her dad, laying her arms protectively across the diagram she's been drawing; though the blues of the water don't match up (she corralled Vision to help colour it in and couldn't find two pencil crayons the same shade), she thinks the shark looks super good. Tony sticks his tongue out in return.

"Nice job on those manners, Morguna," he taunts with a smirk.

"Perhaps you should ask Nebula and come back to us," Vision suggests, still outwardly calm. On the inside, his thoughts are sparking and tumbling like a line of exploding dominos. Wanda! Here! Again!

"What the hell does Nebula care? Don't say 'hell,'" Tony pauses to instruct his daughter. He looks back to Vision. "Wanda's here for you."

When Vision comes down and greets Wanda in the entryway, appearing human and flustered (only the first thing's simulated), Morgan joins him. So it's the three of them plus Tony and Peter and it's incredibly obvious to Peter that their dad is now trying to think of a way to get the extra people (himself, Peter, and Morgan) back out of the room so that Vision and Wanda can be alone. He avoids his dad's eyes. Vision might want him here for support!

"Quit it!" Morgan shouts. Evidently, Tony managed to make eye contact with her.

"What?" their dad asks.

"You're looking at me funny."

"I am not."

Peter sighs at what a baby their dad's being. Vision, somehow the most on top of the situation, proposes that they all sit down in the living room. As he's guiding Wanda in, Tony catches the back of Peter's shirt and Morgan's elbow. If he wants to stick with his brother now, he'll have to fight his dad off. That kinda thing's awkward in front of company, so Peter gives in. Vision glances back with a look of panic on his face and Peter can only shrug.

"Morguna, what do you say we go finish that drawing?"

"You can help," she allows, "as long as you don't mess it up."

Tony scoffs, exaggeratedly insulted. He tries to make Peter come with them, but Peter refuses, planting his feet and crossing his arms. He'll wait for Vision right here.

Inside the living room, Wanda's bubbly (though it's edging towards hysterical) and inquisitive (though she seems too distracted to hear the answers to her questions). The only thing she doesn't seem to be, as far as Vision can tell, is romantically interested in him. She's just her regular self, if more anxious than usual. Regardless, she looks lovely in her navy sweater and he longs to tell her. He observes her instead and concludes that her anxiety is probably to do with the Park. Vision can imagine that it might be stressful to step back into her role as chef, especially with the pressures of such a publicized limited engagement and a full house every night. Impulsively, he grasps her hand as he speaks words of reassurance, but the touch only makes her laugh strangely. He draws back his hand, also feeling affected. They conclude the conversation with hasty, stilted sentences, Vision on very uncertain footing but yearning for her when she precedes him out of the room and straight out of the compound. The air's warm; they're on the cusp of May. He stands in the doorway a long minute, leaning out as he watches her walk back in the direction of the Park, before he notices his brother beside him.

Peter raises his eyebrows.

"Still just friends?"

He doesn't tease his brother any more than that, saving Vision from having to try to lie about how he obviously feels. It won't take long for him and Wanda to confront those feelings, Peter believes. It can't. Not that it matters, but the two of them definitely have his blessing and he assumes Michelle's as well. Though she didn't return to the compound with her friend, Peter doesn't think Wanda would've marched over here (even if she floundered a little once she arrived) if Michelle was still speaking critically of Vision. He hasn't really considered it before, but it strikes him as he thinks everything over that afternoon that Wanda's approval might mean as much to Michelle as the reverse. They're both orphans, both scant on blood relatives, and clearly have deep-seated trust in each other's judgement. Maybe Michelle showed a little distrust by persuading Wanda away from Vision initially, but that was mostly a protective instinct. In other areas, it's evident that she trusts Wanda a great deal. They function well as housemates; Michelle has a stake in Wanda's restaurant; Wanda promoted Michelle's art by hanging it all over the walls. Peter having a good relationship with Wanda should mean something to her best friend. He hopes it does, though it isn't an angle he ever would've played for the sake of manipulation. Is it possible that Wanda ever says anything to Michelle about him, talking him up, urging her friend not to write him off? That's a lot to wish for. What matters now is that he and Wanda are friends and that he's prepared to help her relationship with Vision along whether or not she's secretly doing the same for him and Michelle.

Before Peter can brainstorm how else he might create opportunities for Vision and Wanda to meet while she's Upstate, Wanda proves she's got it from here.

She comes again that night. It's late, almost midnight, nearly 12 hours since she dropped by in the afternoon. Peter's gaming with Ned online when she arrives and doesn't hear her knock. By chance, Vision's downstairs at the front of the house, the only other person up. (Tony's sleeping better since seeing Harley and moving past the argument with Pepper over financing the new branch of SI.)

Vision lets Wanda in and leaves the door hanging open behind her. There's a breeze, almost warm, but not quite, and he wonders if she's just trying to escape the chill when she moves nearer. There's something in her eyes, though, that speaks to him without words, louder than the hour and the rumpled clothing she must've been wearing beneath her chef's whites all evening. Vision offers his hand and Wanda hovers hers over it. He studies her face, never having longed for her from so close before. When their palms press together, a vibrant red glow seeps from the edges and he gasps at the feeling of her.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asks, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"No," Vision assures her. "No. I just feel y―"

Wanda's lips are pressed suddenly to his. Though Vision could calculate the speed at which she moved, the angle her feet must be at from where she's rocked up on her toes, explain these things, explain them all, he ignores everything that isn't the most human of sensations―first her mouth and second, the slope of her back under his hand as he cradles her to him. He ignores the encroaching memories of diagnostics and analyses, banishes the stone in his head behind pale skin as he phases to appear human, like her. Wanda's fingers brush through his blond hair as they kiss more deeply. He's like her without the façade and she won't even notice with her eyes closed as they are. Vision doesn't know why he does it. Perhaps because she kissed him as he was, since he was too startled by her sudden arrival to shift out of his natural red form. Yes, she's like him, the same energy flowing through their bodies and minds, but they are both more, and less, than these abilities. She has striped him right down to the heart. A tool he hardly knew how to use, it seems, before she gave him a reason to learn.

Upstairs, removing his headphones, Peter picks up a pair of voices. Is one Wanda? He goes skidding out of his room, rushing toward the front door to make sure his dad wasn't the one to welcome her in. He stops when he can make out his brother's voice and harnesses his old Spidey stealth to edge closer until he can see them, silhouetted in the dark entryway by the compound's warm perimeter lights, wrapped up in each other's arms. Beaming as his hands clench into triumphant fists, Peter creeps soundlessly back to his room.

Naturally, Peter corners Vision before breakfast the next morning. He figures it's the look in his eyes (plus his expression and, well, the entirety of his eager body language) that tips his brother off. He clearly knows something and Vision's too forthright and too happy to conceal his news. Peter feels his hug of congratulations warmly returned.

"I hope it isn't callous to say this is the happiest I've ever been," Vision says. "You and the rest of our family mean a great deal to me, of course…"

"Don't worry, man," Peter assures him. "This is different. I get it."

"For all my knowledge, it's so completely beyond my comprehension. This sensation… Loving Wanda is like nothing I have ever experienced."

Peter can only listen as his usually thoughtful brother grows chatty with joy, sentences sliding into one another as he attempts to transfer all of his feelings to language, something communicable. The supportive words he manages to slip in between Vision's profusions of admiration for Wanda and love itself visibly please his brother. As abruptly as he began, he stops.

"I need to confer with Pepper and Tony. I won't keep them in suspense the way Harley did."

"Wait, what are you talking about? We don't need to have a family meeting just because you had your first kiss."

Vision eyes him for a moment and Peter realizes that he blurted out proof that he spied on his brother and Wanda last night. Oops.

"It was more than that."

"I really don't need to hear―"

"I mean to say that we spoke for quite some time, here and as I accompanied Wanda back to the Park. She's in favour of a partnership between the Park and Stark Industries, with myself as her point of contact, naturally, and, and furthermore…" Visions sighs to collect himself. "Wanda has invited me to live with her."

Peter blinks.

"Live with her?"

"Yes," his brother says, suddenly speaking quickly again. "Here, at the Park. She would remain, you see, rather than moving back to the city with her brother. Apparently, she enjoys being Upstate and has a real passion for her restaurant. Though the city has its multitude of attractions, Wanda tells me she feels happiest, most at home, here. With her on sight at the Park, business is thriving. She's interested… well, we both are… in seeing whether the two of us might work as well."

Vision concludes his explanation, smiles to himself, and goes off to find their parents before Peter can say another word. He snorts a baffled laugh in his brother's wake. Being head over heels in love has never looked so human.

When Wanda comes knocking after breakfast, Peter lets her in with pretend weariness, like she's here so often that he barely has a chance to sit down between her visits. He ruins the act by breaking into a smile and pulling Wanda into a hug with an, "Ah, bring it in," when she pats him fondly on the shoulder. It's just been so rough for the two of them, Wanda and Vision, too much heartbreak and confusion for two people so kind and self-sacrificing. The best people don't always get the sweetest endings, Peter knows. There's so much bad out there that it can feel as though the universe itself is rending bonds and hearts. But bad doesn't always win. If you're lucky, you get to be around for the happy ending. As Peter steps back and takes in Wanda's obvious elation, he's not even bothered that the happy ending isn't his. She and Vision deserve this.

"I'm looking for your brother," she says with a wide smile. "Big surprise, I know."

"He's up in my mom's office going over business stuff..."

Peter purposely trails off so Wanda can fill him in, and she does. She's more thorough, more quietly thoughtful, than Vision was in his hasty explanation earlier. Despite the technical topic, her pure affection for his brother comes across prominently and soon they're talking about that instead, her happiness, Vision's best qualities, and although they're far into the realm of feelings, it's obvious to Peter that those haven't blinded her. It's evident that she understands Vision, maybe better than Peter does, in some fundamental way. That has to be what's giving her the confidence to have him move in with her. Nothing about the way she talks makes him think her and Vision's relationship is a spontaneous fling. Bizarrely, it comes across as though they've been together for years and have settled comfortably into each other.

Eventually, she does head upstairs to establish the broad strokes of what partnering with SI will look like. Though she frequently defers to Pepper's expertise, the one item she makes sure to insist on is an arrangement with Nebula, which Nebula will have to help define the terms of. Wanda offers her time and resources in the hopes of an exchange of knowledge; she's certain they both have things to teach the other about cooking. If Vision's going to be representing SI at the Park in name, then Nebula's involvement in the restaurant can be hands on. She'll be following in Tony's footsteps. He pioneered technology to help others after engineering equipment to save his own life; at the Park, Nebula can share culinary revelations that exist because she turned to cooking to heal. She finds it meditative, soothing her sometimes literally sparking nerves, providing focus and a sense of accomplishment, as she continues to cope with Gamora's death. Wanda makes it clear that this isn't pity or nepotism under partial Stark ownership. Nebula is a genuine talent and Wanda is inspired by her work.

"This," Pepper says, smiling at Vision and Wanda across her desk, "really sets me at ease. You two are a pretty perfect match in more ways than one. I'm not worried about any of this." She laughs in relief and surprise as she gestures to the boilerplate contract they were looking over and her notes about Wanda's specifications. "I think you're both very conscientious, caring people. The only thing that might get you into trouble is the level of your combined optimism, so, Vision, feel free to visit home if you need a booster shot of Stark realism."

"And the reverse offer is certainly open," Vision jokes. After an assessing glance, he reaches out for Wanda's hand. "Please come to us if you find your optimism in short supply."

"Don't listen to Mom," Tony urges, crossing his arms where he's leaning against the wall of her office, supported by his exoskeleton. "New businesses need all the optimism they can get. That's as sure a thing as you two are. Took you long enough though." He winks at Vision to show he's teasing.

"I thought the timing was just right," Wanda counters, directing heart-eyes at Vision.

"That's because you two somehow didn't see this from the beginning, like I did. I always knew we'd end up right here. Enhanced neighbours with energy signatures compatible with yours don't come along every day."

Despite behaving like a know-it-all (and being thoroughly teased by his wife for that), Tony's sincerely grateful that this partnership's finally happening. Not just for the company. That's the big difference between this and Harley's deal with Liz Allan. In that case, they were salvaging a situation for the sake of Stark Industries. In this one, the fact that their company, his company, his father's company will endure matters less than seeing Vision happy. Now there's just that name to change. He contemplates it with his gaze on Wanda and Vision, feels it prodding the back of his brain later as he toils in his workshop. It crosses his mind when he reviews homework with Morgan and discusses the Park with Nebula. He watches Peter as they eat dinner at Wanda's restaurant (Tony swung a reservation for their family like he told Pepper he would) and waves his son's inquisitive glance off when he catches Tony grinning to himself. He's got it. They'll evolve from Stark Industries to Stark and Sons and Daughters. If people find it a mouthful, they can get over it. It's not like the world doesn't already know his name. This he'll do for his family.

Of course, half the fun will be keeping it under his hat for a while. When Pepper gives him a look like Peter's, Tony throws her a wink. He might be induced to share his new secret with her. Under very specific circumstances. Leaning close to his wife, he asks if she has plans later.

"You're not hiding Wanda in one of the cupboards, are you?" Peter asks. Vision turns away from the stove with a frown of confusion. "Or, oh, inside the oven like you're some kinda fairy tale witch?"

"Shall I interrupt or wait for you to begin making sense on your own?"

"It's just that I never see you alone anymore," Peter explains.

He hops up to sit on the wide island directly behind his brother, then, on instinct, summersaults backwards and presses up on his hands to do a handstand. He wonders how much force it would take to propel himself up to the ceiling, about ten feet above his barely wavering feet. Just like that, he does it, maybe a little too hard; Vision turns with a look of alarm to see Peter sinking into a crouch on the ceiling. Peter waves and Vision sighs. Exasperation is how they take the pressure off each other, though they don't acknowledge it. Vision pretends he's sick of the hijinks that demonstrate Peter's return to his old self, getting back in touch with abilities he thought he was leaving behind forever when he ditched the Spidey suit, and Peter acts like Vision becoming inseparable from Wanda is something other than adorable and incredible and beyond anything any of them ever hoped Vision could do or be.

"I suppose I don't seek out isolation as much as I used to," his brother responds thoughtfully, putting his back to Peter to pour a measured liquid into the large pot he has simmering on the stovetop. "Even my silences are better spent with Wanda. We have... an unspoken understanding of each other, I believe. It's quite peaceful."

Peter's wondering if Vision might be interested in some of that peace right now when his brother speaks again.

"Do you know," Vision begins, and Peter can hear the laughing lilt of amused disbelief in his voice, "that Wanda had no idea that I was in Queens in the winter? I thought she must have, at the time, but when we spoke of it, she was very obviously surprised."

"I figured she didn't know. It didn't make sense that she would stay away from you after you guys were so close at the open house before she left."

"I can only suspect her brother was to blame." He shakes his head and Peter doesn't know if it's at the thought of Brad 'Asshole' Maximoff or because he's fumbled somehow in his amateur attempt to replicate one of Wanda's recipes. "He was disingenuous at the best of times and merely tolerant of my presence where I formerly believed him in support of my relationship with Wanda. It's entirely foolish for Brad to persist in his... his ill-informed belief that I have any views on his sister more insidious than falling utterly in love with her." Vision spins, tense as his gaze meets Peter's. "If my happiness is such an irritant to him, then he might at the very least open his eyes enough to notice that Wanda is equally happy and that further attempts to separate us would only make her decidedly less so and must therefore be entirely at cross-purposes with his own hopes for her future. And if Brad thinks for even a moment that he and I will ever be anything approaching friends again, that dickhead has another thing coming."

Peter cheers loudly at the end of Vision's rant, startling his brother.

"YES! Dude, that was awesome! I'm so proud of you."

"She loved me," he says, hurt flickering across his scarlet features. "Wanda loved me when she moved back to Manhattan in December. For whatever reason, it was only my feelings she was in doubt of."

Peter's heart clutches at the knowledge of Michelle's role in convincing Wanda of Vision's apathy.

"Worst mistake she ever made," he says.

He doesn't specify the 'she,' letting his brother assume it's Wanda, and there's forgiveness in his tone. Michelle (and Wanda, under her influence) only did wrong because they wanted to do right. It's not an unfamiliar position to Peter. Because Vision fails to refute his statement, Peter guesses he still doesn't know anything about Michelle's intervention. It's kind of Wanda to leave her best friend out of this, he thinks. She could very easily set Michelle and Vision against each other, but what would anyone gain by that? Peter can't help thinking of himself, how telling Vision the full story would damage not only his relationship with Wanda but Peter's chances with Michelle. It's fucking hard enough to fall in love without the people you're closest to misguidedly standing in the way.

Vision's back is to Peter as he says, "This is what I want for you."

"What? A dickhead for a brother-in-law? Not that you and Wanda are gonna get married or anything," he adds when his brother glances back to give him a disapproving look. "But you totally are," Peter mutters, shifting to sit cross-legged on the ceiling.

"What I want for you is this feeling. I want for you someone as thoroughly good as Wanda. Someone with Pepper's patience for your sarcasm." They both laugh. "Someone you can confide in, like you do with May." Vision turns the burner of the stove off and steps decisively away with a distant, amused expression that says he's completely giving up on whatever that was supposed to be, leaving the cooking prowess to his girlfriend.

"She sounds great," Peter jokes to cover the fact that he's a little choked up by his brother's words. He blames it on sitting upside down.

Vision looks up at him with earnest eyes.

"You will find someone bright, Peter. She'll be kind and tough, and she'll make you feel like the world is as worthwhile as you used to believe it was. I swear to you that you will. And you will deserve her."

I found her, Viz, he wants to say, but he just nods as tears slide up into his eyebrows. Voice a little gruff, Peter plays the whole thing off.

"Maybe I'll email Flash and ask if he has a sister."

Vision laughs and so does Peter, wetter, rockier. Then he sniffles and flips down, dropping all the way to the floor and landing with quiet, practiced precision.

"Would you care to taste this?" Vision asks, motioning to his abandoned... stew? Soup? Thor knows what.

"There's no way in hell, man."

There's such a difference, Peter knows, in the ways in which a person can show up unannounced. It might be an only-a-matter-of-time thing, like Thanos, or an unanticipated, two-pronged, Nerf-gun sneak attack by Harley and Morgan while Peter's sleeping. Wanda's version was surprising because they didn't expect her to keep coming back, but at least they got a slight heads-up from the security cameras. The visitor who arrives next doesn't provide them with the courtesy of advance notice; the feed is cut and looped so smoothly, so subtly, that even the protocols Tony has in place to catch that sort of thing (they're still paranoid, six years after half the universe disappeared in a single Snap―go figure) aren't triggered. Outside, it's so still that the Starks have quit noticing. There's a weird evening fog around the compound as spring negotiates its way from April into May. Peter's so at ease this evening, watching a movie with his family, that he doesn't feel the old Tingle until it's too late to prepare. He sits bolt upright on the couch a second before an insistent fist pounds on their front door.

"Peter," Tony says, afraid and not showing it, still Iron Man, "take Morgan and―"

"No, I'm not leaving."

Before they can get into an argument about when and where it's appropriate to be a hero, Vision looks out the window to determine what they're about to go up against. He motions a calming hand towards Nebula, who's whipped a long, jagged knife out of somewhere and pushed Morgan behind her.

"It's Fury," Vision informs them.

"Your old boss?" Nebula asks Tony, who deflates and looks annoyed instead of desperate and adrenaline-fueled.

"He was never my boss. I knew you weren't listening when I told you the story about the original Avengers forming up."

"It was incredibly boring," Nebula says unapologetically. "I prefer the part where you nearly die guiding a missile into space."

Tony rolls his eyes.

"No knives," he instructs her. He looks to Pepper. "No suits."

She's already halted her summoning of the blue one he made for her and has continued to tinker with on and off since they wiped Upstate New York with Thanos's big purple ass.

His jaw tenses and Peter sticks close to his dad's chair as he wheels to the door and opens it to reveal the imposing man in the long black jacket Peter remembers from Tribeca. The expression on Fury's face is almost amused for a minute as he looks down at Tony―who, in contrast, appears incensed at being looked down upon, since this kind of encounter is exactly why he uses the exoskeleton―but it quickly ices over. Fury and Tony are not the same kind of old friends that he and Carol are and Peter has zero expectation of watching the Director loosen up with the help of roses or karaoke anecdotes.

"Neat trick with the security alerts," Tony says tightly.

"Trying to decrease my chances of being shot in the head."

"And you thought I'd be less likely to do that if I saw your face first?"

Fury doesn't respond to what feels to Peter like it's supposed to be a rhetorical question. The two men stare each other down. Finally, he speaks.

"Tony, I'm alone. Most of the people who live here―hell, maybe all of 'em―could kill me easily. Half of your inanimate shit probably has the directive to kill me as part of the programming. I'd say you'd be pretty safe letting me in."

Tony sniffs, considering him. Peter remains tense, hand gripping the back of his dad's armrest.

"Yeah, sure, welcome," Tony says. Darting a glance at him, Peter moves back when his dad does to allow Fury entry. As the man passes inside, he finally catches Peter's eye with his. The look is definitely not saying, Nice to see you again!

His dad nudges him ahead and Peter hustles back to the living room to find the movie shut off, though evidence of their family night―half-empty bowls of popcorn, the bean bag chair Morgan dragged down from her room―remains.

"Sorry I had to intrude," Fury says, which really isn't an apology. It's not like his tone would've deceived them anyway. It's level, cold. His gaze lands on Peter's little sister. He nods at her. "You must be Morgan."

"Don't you dare talk to―" Tony begins in a harsh warning, shifting in his chair to raise a threatening finger.

"We're just going to bed," Pepper cuts in.

The look on her face isn't any friendlier, but she takes her daughter's hand and leads her from the room. (Peter's proud of Morgan for the backwards glance she throws Fury―all glare―before Vision follows them out, blocking their little sister from view.) Tony, Peter, and Nebula remain with Fury. Peter can sense that he's the only thing standing between their opaque guest and a couple of violently loose cannons.

"So, this is the family home," Fury says. "I expected to find something more like a business."

Peter recalls Fury's place in Tribeca. Definitely not homey.

"We manage," Tony says. Peter can see that his dad's temper's evened out since he snapped at Fury about Morgan, but he's definitely still on edge. His next move is posturing and he squares his shoulders for it. "We've actually locked down two new partnerships in the last couple weeks alone."

"And here I thought you were slowing down after mothballing the suit. Quaint little spot to retire," Fury observes wryly, gaze sliding up to take in the high ceilings, then over to where the windows offer a view of the far-stretching lawn. The compound is almost as opposite to later-in-life downsizing as the Palace of Versailles.

Peter watches his dad's hands flinch into fists at the casual implication that he simply retired from being Iron Man. Like it was a period of transition rather than an instant in which his back snapped. Like it was a choice instead of what felt necessary to protect the family he had left after the first Snap.

"It was time to leave Manhattan to a younger generation of assholes," Tony comments snidely. He stares challengingly at Fury. "Mostly younger, anyway."

"I would think that the flatter skyline would let you see what was coming," Fury says back, matching sarcasm with sarcasm.

"Again, nice trick. Does that kind of thing impress your new associates? Must seem like a magic show to Flash Thompson. I know he's quite a fan."

"Flash is useful."

Oh, maybe that's who he's here to talk about, Peter thinks. Flash probably had a tantrum when his last email went unanswered (the one Peter deleted) and complained to his idol. Fury doesn't seem like the kind of guy to go all guard-dog on whoever Flash sics him on, but he does represent a hell of a lot of money and public influence. Like Fury said, Flash is useful. Peter suspects Fury sees those around him as tools more frequently than as people.

Abruptly, he turns the gaze that's astoundingly weighty for being one-eyed on Peter.

"Walk with me," he says.

Peter feels both his father and Nebula bristle; that knife of hers might be out of sight, but there's no way in hell it's gone.

"Hey," Tony says, though it doesn't draw Fury's eye away from Peter's face, "how 'bout telling us exactly what you're doing here."

"It's between me and Peter."

"Like hell it is. My son's not going anywhere with you. If you want to see him that badly, you won't be shy about putting a bag over his head and bundling him off to some secret location."

"No secret location," Fury promises. "There's no need for us to leave the premises. You'll find all of your security systems have been restored. You're welcome to keep an eye on us if you don't trust me."

"You're damn right I don't trust you," Tony assures him, but he's waiting for Peter to speak for himself. Both men are.

Peter looks at them, at his sister, who has her shoulders angled forward like she's ready to leap onto Fury's back and twist his neck. Their eyes meet. There's a burning in Nebula's, a forcefulness that says she'll defend him to the death. It reminds him that he's one of them. Strong and skillful. An Avenger. Spider-Man.

"Peter," Fury says again. "Walk with me."

Author's Note:

Our next chapter is the second last! I think you'll find the conversation between Peter and Fury very satisfying.

To be continued...