Hello friends, I'm back with a new chapter. It's mostly fluff and as you seemed to like Clint in the story, I'm happy to tell you that you can meet him again :)
Thank you for your support and I hope you still enjoy this story :)
Disclaimer: no, I don't own Marvel. I wish.
True to his word, a day later Mr. Stark and his merry team arrive at the Tower. More or less in one piece.
When Peter says goodbye to Ned after school and approaches the familiar black Audi parking nearby, the window on the driver side slowly rolls down and reveals Mr. Stark grinning at him. With a huge smile, Peter quickly gets in the car and immediately envelops the man in a tight hug.
"You're back," he murmurs into his shirt.
"I am," Mr. Stark answers, rubbing circles on the boy's back.
After a few seconds, when Peter is sure that it's not just a dream and Mr. Stark is really here, he pulls back and eyes the man suspiciously. He discovers a few smaller cuts on Mr. Stark's face and he can see that his left wrist is bandaged.
"Are you okay?" he asks worried.
"Of course I am. Just a few scratches. I'm Iron Man, don't forget that, kid," Mr. Stark replies confidently and starts the engine.
"And what about Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton?"
"Well, Clint has a broken arm and some pretty bad bruises. Natasha has some more serious injuries, but nothing life-threatening, don't worry. She'll be good in no time."
Peter narrows his eyes, trying to decide if he can actually believe the man. Is Mr. Stark sugarcoating what happened in Mexico? Should he have asked Friday after all? No, he would never break his promise to Mr. Stark.
The man looks at him and gives him a big, reassuring smile and then asks if Peter wants to have an ice cream. Or cheeseburgers first and then ice cream. "As for me, I could kill for a cheeseburger. I missed good old-fashioned American food," he explains.
"Mr. Stark, you were away for less than 48 hours," the boy reminds him in mock annoyance.
"Seemed like an eternity," the man says, glancing at Peter with a sad smile on his face.
Five cheeseburgers and three ice creams later, they are on their way back to the Tower. The traffic is really bad and Mr. Stark suggested several times calling one of his suits to fly them home and leave the car behind. But he didn't do that and Peter is happy because sitting here in a car with Mr. Stark is actually really good. He can glance over at the man from time to time to make sure he's really here with him and not fighting some crazy drug lords with robots.
"So did you eat all my snacks on the jet?" Peter asks casually, while texting Ned that Mr. Stark came home. "I hope it was enough."
Earlier, Ned invited him over to play video games and as Peter wasn't sure if the Avengers' mission would be really accomplished by today, he accepted the invitation. But now that Mr. Stark's back, he needs to cancel their plans. He has no doubts that Ned will understand, but he will definitely demand details on the mission.
"Actually, it was mostly Barton who ate them," Mr. Stark explains. "And fear not, kid, I have already told Friday to order a bunch of your sugary poisons. Your stock will be refilled."
"Thanks, Mr. Stark."
"And speaking of the archer, I have a confession to make, kid," the man says, eyes focusing on the road ahead of them.
Peter turns to him and lifts an eyebrow. That's interesting. What could Mr. Stark possibly confess to him? Considering how nervous the man looks, it must be something big.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought arises in the boy's mind. What if this is it? The moment he's been afraid of. When Mr. Stark finally realizes how easier his life could be without Peter and decides he doesn't want to deal with him anymore.
It might have been because of the mission. It would have been much easier for Mr. Stark if he hadn't had to worry about Peter all along. He must have been a distraction for the man and Mr. Stark might have decided that being an Avenger was a fulltime job and he couldn't afford any distraction. With Peter in his life, he can't be the focused, dedicated hero that the world needs.
Funny, Peter always thought one day he would make a huge mistake, something that would make Mr. Stark realize that he's simply too much trouble to deal with. Peter didn't think that his simple existence would be the problem.
But then Mr. Stark's quiet, apologetic voice breaks into his depressive thoughts.
"I… I might have told about you to Barton, kid, I'm sorry," the man explains. "I mean I told him everything. Not just about Peter Parker but about Spiderman, too. I know it wasn't my secret to tell and I know how important your secret identity is to you, kid and I had no right, but… But you gotta understand, Peter. When you moved into the Tower, I freaked out! I already told you how worried I was because I had no experience with kids whatsoever and my family was crazy… And I was afraid that I would screw up. So I decided to ask for advice and Barton is the only Avenger who has kids, so logically, I turned to him. I told him everything and again, I'm so sorry, Peter. I really am."
The boy is frozen. When the man's rant is over, Peter remains silent, staring at Mr. Stark in absolute shock.
"Mr. Barton has kids?" he finally manages, flabbergasted.
Mr. Stark told him once that Mr. Barton was spending some time with his family, but somehow Peter didn't think that family meant kids. Maybe parents or siblings, but no kids. He couldn't really imagine that any of the Avengers might have kids. How cool that must be! To have a father who is an Avenger! It's almost like he and… No. They're not like that.
But Mr. Stark interrupts his train of thoughts when he turns to him, furrowing his brow. "Really? That's your take-away from all this? Yeah, Barton has kids. And a nice wife and an almost unreal farm. He has his own little paradise."
Peter frowns. His paradise? Is that what Mr. Stark dreams about? Settling down on a farm with a family? However, Peter is unable to imagine the man in the country, chopping wood or something. Yeah, that would be ridiculous. Mr. Stark anywhere else but in a city would be like fish out of water.
"Pete, are you still with me?" Mr. Stark asks, trying to get his attention.
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sorry," the boy jabbers. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about it, Mr. Stark. I mean about telling Mr. Barton. I get it. Allowing me to stay at the Tower was huge. For both of us, I guess. I understand you had to tell someone."
"Thanks, kid," Mr. Stark smiles.
"That explains why Mr. Barton was looking at me so weirdly at the Tower, though," Peter remembers.
"Yeah, guy's a creep, I know."
"It was a great relief to me when I shared my secret with Ned. So I get it. Mr. Barton is your Ned and everyone needs a Ned in his life."
But Mr. Stark shakes his head vehemently. "No, no, kid. My friendship with Barton, if we can call it a friendship at all, is nowhere close to what you have with Ned. Like I said, I told Barton because he was the logical choice. He's a good buddy, sure but definitely not my BFF." The man chuckles as if the mere idea is ridiculous.
"Well, I guess we'll have to tell the rest of the Avengers sooner or later, right? I mean I can't hide in your penthouse forever."
Mr. Stark looks at him from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you'd be okay with that, kid? We can move to LA if you want."
Peter isn't really sure if the man is joking or not. His voice and look are very serious. Would he really leave his home behind for Peter? Not that LA would be so new to Mr. Stark, but would he really do that for him? It doesn't really matter though, because Peter would never want that anyway.
"Are you seriously asking me if I was okay with meeting Captain America, the Black Widow, Thor or Hawkeye?" he laughs. "Are you asking me if I was okay with meeting the Avengers, the greatest heroes on Earth?"
Mr. Stark rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay, fanboy, relax. As long as I'm your favorite Avenger, you can meet them."
"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, you're always gonna be my favorite," Peter answers honestly.
"Aw, kid, you're gonna make me cry," the man smiles and affectionately ruffles the boy's hair.
They quickly get back to the Tower and when the elevator doors finally open, they reveal someone casually lounging on the couch in the middle of the room. Clint Barton. He is sprawled out with a soda in one hand and the remote control in the other and whatever he's watching on the TV, it must be really boring because he actually looks half-asleep. But when Peter and Mr. Stark enter, his eyes shoot up at them and he gives them a huge smile. As if he's the owner of the place, welcoming guests and not the other way around.
"Uh, Friday, there's an intruder in my living room. Do you happen to know anything about it?" Mr. Stark asks and Mr. Barton rolls his eyes.
"According to my protocols, Mr. Barton isn't identified as an intruder," the AI calmly explains.
Peter can't decide if Friday didn't understand her boss's sarcasm or chose to ignore it. Probably the latter.
"Well, I might need to change your protocols, dear," Mr. Stark shrugs and turns to the other man. "It would have been nice of you to wait for an invitation, Barton."
"You know me, Stark, patience has never been my strong suit," Mr. Barton grins.
He steps closer to Peter and eyes him suspiciously. The boy doesn't know what to do. He's just standing there with his backpack in his hands. He feels like the latest attraction in the zoo.
"Oh, come on, Legolas, can't you see you're making the kid uncomfortable?" Mr. Stark complains, walking to the coffee maker.
As Mr. Barton doesn't give up on observing him, Peter decides to hold out a hand and introduce himself. "I'm P-Peter, Peter Parker, s-sir."
He immediately blushes because he's sure he hasn't made a good impression. Here is an Avenger standing in front of him, a hero with plenty of battles behind him, a fearless and brave warrior, a precise archer. And here is Peter Parker, a miserable schoolboy, stammering and fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. Peter feels so embarrassed that he would love to run into his room and hide there forever. He was so wrong when he thought he could handle meeting with the Avengers.
Mr. Barton grasps him on the shoulder and smiles. "Hello, Peter. I'm Clint. It's nice to finally meet you after all the things I've heard about you." He tilts his head toward Mr. Stark.
"Why are you really here, Barton?" Mr. Stark asks, returning from the kitchen with a mug in his hand.
"Well, I wanted to make sure that Peter here was alright. I mean living with you, Stark… must be tough. Poor kid."
Mr. Stark just rolls his eyes and makes his way to the couch.
But Peter doesn't know Mr. Barton that much, he doesn't know if he's joking or not. Does he really think it's bad for him to stay with Mr. Stark? Because it's not. On the contrary, it's awesome!
"You… you don't have to worry about me, Mr. Barton," he starts. "Really. I'm good. More than good, here with Mr. Stark. He's taking a good care of me. I'm… I'm really happy that I can stay here, sir, Mr. Stark is very nice to me."
Peter really hopes that the man believes him. He knows he sounded nervous and edgy and he hopes Mr. Barton won't think it was just some kind of speech and not the truth. Because it is the truth. He's so happy here.
Mr. Barton still has his hand on his shoulder and gives him an even bigger smile than before. Then he turns to the other man on the couch. "I like this one, Stark. Let's keep him."
"I've already decided to keep him, Barton", Mr. Stark reminds him frowning.
"Does he really call you Mr. Stark?" the archer asks and looks back at Peter.
The boy doesn't like that he's speaking of him as if he's not standing right here. Other than that, there's nothing wrong with their guest. Yeah, he might be a bit pushy and intense but he also looks like a funny, carefree, cool guy. Just like Peter always imagined Hawkeye.
"Yeah, and he calls you Mr. Barton, too," Mr. Stark says.
This time, Mr. Barton looks directly in Peter's eye. "Yeah, kid, don't do that. Just Clint, okay?" he winks at him and when Peter nods, he finally releases his shoulder and walks to the couch, flopping down beside Mr. Stark who doesn't seem to appreciate it and grimaces, moving a bit further from the archer.
The boy finally feels relaxed enough to put his backpack on a chair and walk to the refrigerator to grab a water bottle.
"Again, Barton why are you here?" Mr. Stark asks tiredly.
"I miss Nat," Mr. Barton, err, Clint announces dramatically, closing his eyes. Then he suddenly snaps them open and glances over at Peter. The kid freezes with the bottle in his hand. What is Clint implying?
"I need a sparring partner," the archer shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"No. No, no, no. Never," Mr. Stark protests vehemently and sets his mug on the coffee table harshly. Hot coffee splashes all over the table.
"Why? It's not like he started patrolling yesterday," Clint says.
"Peter has homework," Mr. Stark explains calmly.
The archer grins, obviously thinking homework is a pathetic excuse. He opens his mouth probably to provide a witty comeback, but Mr. Stark looks him in the eye and Peter can't see the man's face from his spot, but he can definitely see Clint's face. The Avenger, who he called fearless in his mind just a few minutes ago, is practically shrinking under Mr. Stark's stare. Geez, Peter hopes he'll never have to see that look!
Clint raises both of his hands in defeat. "Fine, whatever, Stark. I guess I need to wait until Nat recovers. Or Cap and Sam return. Whichever happens first." Then he gets up and sighs. "Okay, I'll be down at the gym if you need me."
He's already on his way to the elevator, when Mr. Stark calls after him. "You're welcome to join us for dinner."
Then he quickly looks at Peter as if he has just realized that he should have asked him first. The kid nods. He's not against it. It would be really nice to have Clint here for dinner. Watching him and Mr. Stark bantering is like watching a tennis match. It's gonna be so much fun!
Clint is already in the elevator when he turns back to them. "What's for dinner?"
"I don't know. I'll improvise," Mr. Stark shrugs.
"Cool," Clint chuckles. "That's my favorite."
And then the elevator doors close in front of him.
So did you like it? Did you catch my hint on Tony's lakeside cabin? And how he used the same excuse as Peter in Captain America: Civil War? :)
Thank you for reading!