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A.N. — Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, read silently, and reviewed. l Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

/In the moment I knew that it was all over

Was in love with this girl but didn't know how to show her

Felt like time was slowing down but my heart's going faster

Or that moment with her eyes I just wanted it to last/

—Didn't See It Coming, My Brothers and I

Chapter 2 - Finding the Middle

"What a day," Pepper kicked off her shoes, and sat on the sofa languidly. "I think I've earned a nice glass of wine."

"I'd say you more than earned it," Tony smirked devilishly as he walked to the bar. He poured them both a drink, and walked over with a glint in his eyes. "I'd say you even earned yourself some dessert."

"I think dessert sounds like work," Pepper teased as she tried to take the glass of wine from his hand. He held on to it as he loomed over her. It was in moments like this that Pepper was reminded of the playboy he'd been before they started dating.

"Dessert is a present," he whispered, his lips hovering over hers. "I promise, as the chef, to do all the work. You've just gotta sit back and—"

His phone vibrated loudly on the living room glass table. Tony groaned because he knew Pepper like the back of his hand and—

"There goes the mood," she said without rancor, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Thought so," he let her have her glass and threw himself onto the couch next to her.

"You should see what that is," Pepper nodded towards his phone, which continued to vibrate.

"Uh, I think not," Tony took a large swig of his own glass, then smirked roguishly. "I'm off the clock."

"It could be about the kid," Pepper raised an eyebrow, but her eyes were like lasers.

The second she mentioned Peter, Tony wanted to launch towards his phone. She was right—something could be wrong, the kid could need him; maybe he'd gone out without the suit again, though he was grounded. What teenager actually adhered by the rules of being grounded? Sure as shit not Tony, and if Peter was learning from him to bend the rules then maybe he could be in some terrible situation, no way for any AI's to reach him, lost phone, and somehow found himself with a quarter in his pocket to call him with a payphone—

Tony took a long breath. He tried to get his mind to slow down. This was New York City. You could barely find a working payphone in the touristy areas of Manhattan, let alone in queens. The kid was most likely fine. If for some strange reason Peter was calling him, it was probably to make sure that he was being picked up tomorrow from school. He was spending all afternoon at the Tower until May got off work. Nothing was wrong.

But as Tony's eyes slid over to Pepper, he knew she'd caught it all, even though he hadn't said a word or moved an inch beyond tensing.

The phone vibrated once again, only this time it was clearly a text message instead of a call. Pepper looked away, and Tony reached for the phone.

It was May. He had one missed call from her and one text message. It read:

Hey, sorry to do this so last minute, but the hospital called and they need a fill in for tonight. I know I'm not supposed to work nights this week, so Peter wasn't supposed to start sleeping over until next week, but it's over time, and we could use the extra money. He could stay home alone, but we agreed that wasn't a good idea anymore…

Tony ran his hand over his face in slight irritation. He hadn't told Pepper of his conversation with May yet. He'd figured he had all week to smooth Pepper into the fact that Peter would be staying over nights some days. As far as Peter spending the afternoon at the Tower, well, Pepper was working most days until 8pm so he figured she wouldn't really notice, and if she did, she wouldn't really care.

She knew that he was taking a bigger step into Peter's life even though they hadn't actually talked about it.

Tony was sure that he was worrying over nothing.

Pepper was an angel, really. She put up with all his crap for so many years, long before they got together. She would understand, and love the fact that he was being a better mentor to Peter.

She'd think about how much personal growth he was showing, which really, he had personal growth coming out of every orifice, he had so much of it going on.

Everything would be great.

He replied:

Hey May, not a problem. I'll have Happy swing by and pick the kid up in an hour or so.

He turned to Pepper once the message was sent, but she already had this look. The kind of look that told him that she might not know what he was about to hit her with, but she already knew she wasn't going to like it.

He should tell her about his newly made custody-like schedule with May. That's what he should lead with.

"Peter's sleeping over tonight—I have to text Happy and tell him to pick the kid up."

Pepper's face morphed into concern, and he was reminded instantly why he loved her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Tony tried to play it off smoothly, but his heart started to race and he thought his palms were turning sweaty. Shit, when did he become so incapable of hiding anything? He would make a horrible spy. He thought of Natasha for a moment, her smiling lips that always held secrets, her mischievous eyes that didn't miss a thing, and he couldn't help the squeeze in his heart. He wondered what she was doing, where she was hiding with the rest of the Rogue Avengers. Bad thoughts. He coughed into his hand as he sent out a quick text to Happy.

Happy quickly replied back: I have this thing called a job that requires me to be up at a certain hour, which means I need to sleep. Not spend my night chauffeuring a kid around.

Tony ignored Happy's dramatics, but it gave him a sense of calm—Happy's consistency.

"Tony," Pepper said his name warningly with pursed lips. "If everything's fine then why is Spiderman sleeping over here?"

It was something in the way she said Spiderman that made his chest itch a bit. It didn't quite settle well.

It can't just be about spiderman. If it is, he'll forget he's more than that. That he has value outside of that.

"Peter," he stressed his name, "is sleeping over because May has to work tonight."

"Since when is that a problem for them?"

"Since we decided that Peter is fifteen, and enhanced, and makes bad life choices as all typical teenagers, which means he can't be left home alone at night anymore."

Tony's voice was hard, and he didn't mean to make it sound so much like a challenge, but clearly that was the way it came off because Pepper's eyes softened.

"I'm not against him sleeping over here, Tony," she reached over to lay her hand over his. " We have more than enough space. I just—I'm not sure why you need to do this. But I'm always on your side."

Tony couldn't help the way her words slashed at his stomach—he thought he might've been bleeding all over the beige couch, she dug in so deep with her words. He didn't know what to tell her. He wasn't sure why he needed to do this. He didn't know if he needed to, really. He wanted to. He was trying to be better. And this mattered. The kid mattered.

He also heard what she didn't say: being on his side didn't mean that she was okay with his choices. But she would stick by him through them. That mattered too.

"I love you," he whispered as he claimed her lips in a soft kiss. It was a kiss that told Pepper 'I appreciate you.'

"I know," she said softly against his lips, her eyes closed, letting love flow between them like rays from the sun. In moments like this, Tony felt blessed. He felt at home.

Peter strolled into the penthouse an hour later with the same hyperactive rambling that he seemed to do everything.

"Oh my god, Mr. Stark! I finally found the perfect name for Happy! It should be Grumpy—you know, like from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs—even though Happy's not short or anything, but he's definitely got that Grumpy vibe going on. Of course, I'd never call him that—he'd crush me, in like a millisecond. But you can because you're his boss and he wouldn't throw you out of a moving car—well, at least, I don't think so, but you're Iron Man so if he threw you out of a car you could, like, latch on somehow to—"

"Kid—pause." Tony was too tired and it was too late in the evening to deal with all of this. "Have you eaten already?"

"Yeah, but I could go for more," Peter smiled sheepishly. "Aunt May cooked tonight."

Tony rolled his eyes. He'd never forget those horrible cookies she made. "Friday, be a dear and order us two large meat lovers pizzas."

Peter went towards the bar (he'd noticed the few times he'd been over that Tony always went to the bar first) and let his book bag fall at his feet as he hopped up on a stool. Tony went around to the bartender's side and grabbed a Pepsi for Peter, and went to pour himself one finger's worth of bourbon, neat.

"How's school going?"

The question was simple and straightforward. Practically easy, but Peter couldn't help the ball of anxiety that welled up inside of him. It's been three days since the day Gwen turned his world upside down with her kisses.

Three days since he'd been caught canoodling, getting jiggy with, having intense-hands-on french lessons by his teachers.

Three days since he'd last seen her.

Gwen hadn't been to school in three days, and Peter was starting to wonder whether she was purposefully avoiding him or if something had happened to her. Maybe she was in danger and he was too caught up daydreaming about their next conversation to even notice.

Peter's silence and internal monologue of worry stretched a little too long for Tony's liking.

"That wasn't supposed to be a hard question. Unless there's a problem," Tony furrowed his brows so deep that they could almost touch. "Is there a problem?"

"No—no. Of course not, Mr. Stark," Peter's arms waved about as he tried to profusely deny what was clear to anyone's eyes.

"Kid—Peter," Tony said his name with so much exasperation that it brought Peter short. Their eyes locked, and Peter thought he could see into Tony's soul. Just a little. He could see the concern and vexation in equal measure in his eyes.

Peter sighed and looked away. He hadn't gotten the talk yet, and he'd been hoping Mr. Stark and Aunt May had completely forgotten about Principal Morita's comment about Peter's burgeoning love life.

If anyone would call two kisses and a disappearing act a love life.

"Is this about the girl? Or boy," Tony raised his hand as though to say 'no preference on my end.' Peter rolled his eyes.

"Maybe—yeah," Peter squirmed a bit in his seat. "I just—we have a connection, y'know?"

Tony's eyes widened comically and his eyebrows rose ridiculously high for a second before returning to normal. He shrugged, "Sure."

"I'm serious!"

"Like a heart attack I'm sure," Tony said sarcastically and took a sip of his bourbon. "So you and this mystery person have a connection. What's the problem?"

"Nothing, I guess," Peter bit his lip. He wasn't sure how much he should tell Tony, especially since Gwen had been MIA for three days. "We just—we got intense, y'know?"

"Oh, I definitely know," Tony nodded his head emphatically. "I'm the king of knowing—"

"Oh my god!" Peter leapt off the stool as if he'd been burned and stuck his hands out in front of him as though they would physically stop Tony's words. "No! Just—okay—no. Just, yeah, I don't need to know any of where this is going."

"You need a sex talk though," Tony pointed out matter-of-factly. And he wasn't wrong. But he was also deriving a fair amount of joy out of embarrassing the kid.

"No I don't! Mr. Stark, I swear that I don't! I'm good—promise."

"Are you sure? Because I have a powerpoint presentation ready—"

"I'm sure! God—so sure!"

Tony smirked devilishly, and Peter glowered sulkily at him.

"You suck. That wasn't funny—like, at all."

Tony couldn't help the laugh that bubbled inside of his chest and spilled over. He felt like he was stuck in a world that only played his favorite songs for a moment. The kind of glow that simmered and settled in a person's stomach after the sun came out when it'd been raining—practically monsooning—for too damn long.

It was nice, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. Even if it came along with a sulky teenager. Perhaps because it did come with a sulky teenager was why he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"How was staying over Iron Man's place?" Ned asked excitedly the next day at school while they put away their stuff at their lockers.

Peter thought about the awkward moment when he didn't know where he was supposed to sleep and Tony showed him to a guest bedroom. It was very stylish, like everything else the man owned, but it was also really empty. The room was filled with furniture, and had its own bathroom attached, but there was nothing personal. No real details to show who had made this room. He felt like he was staying at a hotel rather than at Mr. Stark's home.

Then again, he was only a visitor.

How's school going?

But there was something so basic, yet comforting about that question that had immediately made Peter feel like he had a place in Tony's life. A place besides being Spiderman.

"It was fine," Peter shrugged as he slung his backpack over his right shoulder. "We didn't really do much. Talked a bit, ate pizza, then went to bed. Pretty standard stuff you'd do if you stayed at anyone's place."

"But it's not just anyone!" Ned practically exploded, and Peter gave him that look. It was a look—wide eyes, hunched shoulders, hands flexed like they were trying to stretch—that told Ned to be quiet before someone hears them.

"Sorry, sorry," Ned apologized quietly, but Peter was barely paying him any attention anymore. His eyes were scanning the hallways as they walked to class searching for Gwen. MJ was slightly ahead of them though, and Peter couldn't help the way his stomach lurched a little bit at hearing her laugh at something Brad said.

She never laughed that loud with him.

"Is that guy a clown?" Peter said harshly. "What's he saying that's so funny?"

"Dude, do we not like Brad anymore?" Ned asked him so casually, so committedly, so matter-of-factly that Peter had to pause.

Do we not like Brad anymore?

Ned just assumed that if Peter didn't like Brad, then he wouldn't either. It was a show of how deep their bond ran. But it was also a sign of trust. Ned trusted that if Peter didn't like Brad he wouldn't either because Peter would never dislike someone who'd didn't really deserve it.

It made him feel a bit strange, to think that he had the kind of power to decide that for Ned. He didn't like it at all.

"Brad's cool," Peter shrugged. "I like Brad. I told you the other day."

Ned shrugged and opened the door to their first period class. "Yeah—okay, but you're still not quite sending that message to your face, dude."

Peter went to respond but then he heard MJ's voice as they sat down at their desks.

"What's up, losers?"

She had a small smile playing on her lips that made Peter want to trace the outline of her face.

"Hey," Peter said lamely. But his eyes smiled at her. Hell, Peter was pretty sure that his entire body smiled at her and thank fuck she couldn't tell.

"What did you think about last night's reading assignment?"

Her question was simple, inquisitive, impersonal, yet personal because MJ loved her books. Her head was always stuck in one, and her heart was clearly shaped by that passion.

Seeing her eyes sparkle as she asked him such a simple question, Peter figured that Brad could make her laugh till she was blue in the face. Because he doubted they talked about reading assignments, about books—the true love of her life. He'd rather talk to her about her passions, see a bit into her soul in that way, than be a clown.

Fucking Brad.

"I—" he started, but a tingle went down his spine and his head snapped to the front. Gwen's stare caught his as she was entering, and his heart started to race.

"Are you okay?" Peter mouthed at her before he could stop himself. Because, fuck, it'd been three days since he'd last seen her and he'd tried to bury it, but he'd been worried. His stomach had kept churning, telling him to scour the city until he found her.

She gave a pained smile, nodded—and that's when Peter realized that she had a huge bruise on her face. He kept his hands off the table, let his fingernails dig into his palm, because he knew he'd break anything he'd touch right then and there. Someone did that to her face.

Or maybe she fell, he tried to rationalize. Not every scenario in life was some dramatic battle. But until he talked to her he wouldn't know, and his heart stumbled a little in frustration. He exhaled severely and slouched in his seat as the English teacher started to take attendance.

It was going to be a very long class.

He forgot that he'd been talking to MJ, but MJ just watched him...like she always had.

Pepper was on their king sized bed, legs crossed, surrounded by photographs, when Tony walked through the door.

"I'm surprised you're not working," Tony teased as he moved some photographs out of his way so he could sit down next to her.

"Unlike you, I'm fully aware when I need to take a break, and I take it," Pepper turned her head and gave him a chaste kiss with a lingering smile on her face. "I have my phone. If there's a disaster in the office, they know how to reach me."

"What's all this then?"

"These are just...memories, I guess. I suppose the kid staying over made me a bit nostalgic for when this place was always full of people."

Tony finally noticed the people in the pictures, and he couldn't help the silent gasp that escaped his lips. His heartbeat felt like war drums in his chest, and he had to look away—but everywhere he looked there was a new picture, a different memory of life, and hope, and brotherhood.

Life was etched into the smiles on their faces.

Steve smiled indulgently, "I'm not going to put whipped cream in Bruce's soup."

"Don't be a spoilsport, capsicle! Just a little bit," Tony whined, eyes pleading. There was mischief in his eyes that crinkled at the corners, and there was a boundless energy that came with having just returned from a mission.

Steve shook his head, but went towards the kitchen. "I'm not above making him think we did, though."

Tony's eyes lit up and he couldn't stop the laugh so loud and deep that it brought tears to his eyes. His laughter was part surprise, and part genuine joy because one of the greatest things about Steve was that he had this uncanny ability to surprise the hell out of everyone around him and it never got old.

Tony didn't think he would ever get tired of being surprised by him; for the first half of his life he'd lived a life full of so much privilege that practically nothing could surprise him anymore, then his second half of life kicked in and he was surprised every corner, except it was always something earth shattering and horrible. Steve's presence reminded Tony constantly that surprises could be small and great.

Hope was engraved into their hearts that they wore on their sleeves.

It was the fourth of July, Steve's birthday—his first birthday since reawakening in the new millenium—and Tony had decided that they would celebrate it in New Orleans, on bourbon street. The idea was that with the crowds, the heroes would just blend right in. Also, Tony had noticed how much Steve enjoyed music—especially the blues. No doubt it reminded him of his youth. A time in history when he fit right in.

As they all sat around, sipping their drinks, enjoying the live band strums of "St. James Infirmary"—a cover of Louis Armstrong originally released in 1929, Tony saw Steve's eyes glisten slightly before he stood and held his hand out to Natasha to dance, and he knew they'd made the right choice going to the Big Easy.

"This was nice, Tony," Bruce smiled at him as he took a sip from his beer mug.

"I'm always nice. I'm the king of nice, actually."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I mean that this was a good idea."

"I'm the king of those, too."

Maria Hill, who'd come with them, rolled her eyes and chimed in. "You're a good friend, Stark. Take the compliment and let it go."

Tony barked out a laugh—Hill could do that to a guy. Go straight to the heart of a matter and still seem like she was going for the jugular simultaneously.

"Lady Hill is correct, my friend," Thor concurred boisterously. "You have made our brother Steve truly happy on this day of his birth."

"I don't think I'm the one making his birthday," Tony smirked and nodded to the pair dancing happily.

Everyone turned their heads and took in Steve and Natasha, talking quietly, while they danced another song, this one to the band's cover of "Have You Ever Loved A Woman" by Freddie King, released in 1961. Steve whispered in her ear so she could hear him over the music, but it looked so damned intimate that Tony couldn't help himself.

"A hundred bucks says Cap makes a move tonight."

Maria Hill scoffed. "You're on. Cap is way too professional to risk ruining a working relationship with a team member."

Thor clapped his hand, and the hair on everyone's arms stood up for a second as a slight current of electricity passed through them. "I have plenty of horned animals, Lady Hill. My bucks are plenty and fruitful in Asgard. So I shall see you your hundred bucks, and raise you another in favor of Stark. I know the passion of loins very well, and our dear Captain is afire. And unless my eyes deceive me, Lady Natasha is receptive to his passions."

"Jesus Christ!" Tony's shoulder's shook with mirth. "The passion of loins—holy crap."

His laughter spurned everyone else's, and suddenly everyone had tears of laughter in their eyes. Thor smiled along, though he wasn't quite sure what was so funny. Clint, who'd been silent up until this point, clapped Thor on the shoulder and diverted his attention from their laughter.

"Not quite the kind of bucks we're talking about here, buddy. He means money."

"Oh, well," Thor floundered for a moment, but he was raised to be a king. Confidence, even in the face of his own blunder, was etched into his very core. "My bet stands. Captain Rogers is alight tonight with passion, and shall attempt to conquer Lady Natasha. I am never wrong about these things, you know. There have been odes written of my own conquests."

Everyone chuckled lightly at Thor's boasts, but turned their eyes back to the pair dancing between tables.

The song changed, and the band began a cover of Blind Willie McTell's "Dying Crapshooter's Blues" released in 1940. Steve's face lit up, and he bent his head and whispered in Natasha's ear. She looked up in obvious surprise, a wide smile on her face. She was visibly giddy with whatever information Steve had told her, which was a strange sight to see. Natasha hadn't even been patently giddy when she found out that Fury was afraid of cats and could torment him with them when he did something that displeased her. Nevertheless, giddy with information she was to everyone's surprise. Natasha went to leave Steve's arms, but he discernibly tightened his arm around her to keep her and held her even closer than before, his shoulder's shaking in laughter.

"Hot damn," Clint said in surprise.

"Ready to throw your bet in with the winners?" Tony teased.

"No dice," Clint shook his head and took a swig of his drink.

"Tony might actually have a point," Bruce said, though his face wasn't as full of amusement as theirs were.

"I see what he sees," Clint shrugged. "Doesn't mean cap is gonna make a move."

There was truth in what Clint said, and even Tony couldn't refute it. Just because it was clear that there was passion in the loins didn't mean that they would act on it.

But it was obvious to everyone watching that Natasha and Steve had a spark, an effortless chemistry full of sin and whiskey that begged to be explored. Even if the two in question hadn't realized it just yet.

The song ended, and the pair finally went back to the table; they were pulling out their chairs to sit back down when curiosity got the best of Hill, stopping them in their tracks.

"What was so funny?" Maria asked them.

"Just a nice memory," Steve tried to dodge. But Natasha's unmistakably evil smile had him moving swiftly, wrapping one arm around her waist bringing her back flush against his front, and covering her mouth with the other hand as she started to talk. She was laughing so hard, that tears of mirth made her eyes glisten like diamonds in the sun.

"Oh, c'mon, Cap," Clint joked. "Share with the class."

"Not a chance," Steve smiled, and kept his hand over Natasha's mouth for a few more moments. He kept her in his arms for a few more moments that didn't go unnoticed by any of the team. But the sheer happiness in his eyes was enough for them.

Brotherhood was carved into the very essence of who they were.

"Shit, shit, shit" Tony felt his chest tighten, and his stomach clenched. They were in the middle of a mission, in the middle of a situation—but something about the sand in his eyes, and the blasts of battle…

Fuck, he was lost.

Tony couldn't move, could barely breathe—the world was crashing in around him.

But suddenly a force slammed into him, moving him roughly through the air—he was flying, weightless, for a moment. A loud explosion sounded where he'd been standing just a second ago. More sand lifted into the air, like a blizzard or a sandstorm. It was almost beautiful, but then gravity slammed into him with such force that Tony thought every bone in his body would shatter.

"Tony! Tony, hey!" Steve shook him by the shoulders. "You with me?"

"I—" Tony wanted to say yes, but fuck, everything was suddenly a lot harder. Breathing, existing was a lot harder. He'd thought he'd gotten over this. Fuck—

"Just breathe with me," Steve lifted Tony's hand and placed it against his own heart.

"What's going on?" Natasha slid into the space next to them, behind the boulder Steve had rammed them into to avoid blowing up.

"He's having an episode," Steve continued to try to breathe evenly, but he was freaking out a bit inside. Tony could tell from the panic that was building in his eyes.

"This isn't the forties," Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's called a panic attack."

"Okay, well, he's having it," Steve gave an unimpressed look. There was something so comforting about Steve's stuck-upness, so normal, that it seemed to have jump-started Tony's brain. He huffed out a short strained laugh.

"You're okay," Natasha laid a hand on his shoulder. "Just take it easy a second. Slow breaths. Focus on what you can feel."

"We're in the middle of battle," Tony tried to get up, acting like he was fine, but he knew the moment sand got in his eyes, he'd freak out again. But his brain was following her instructions, despite his bad act to pretend everything was normal and he hadn't just broken down in the middle of a battle.

"No," Steve said firmly, pushing him down, and keeping him sitting. Steve's hand was heavy, grounding. "The team doesn't need us right now, you do. We're right here. We'll always be right here, whether you like or not, so just take your time."

Tony didn't know what to say, so he went on autopilot.

"Didn't know you cared that much, Cap. I'm touched."

Steve didn't even bat an eye. "Well, now you know."

Well, now you know.

It was so simple, but Tony couldn't look him in the eyes. He turned and Natasha's small smile, full of understanding, stared back at him.

Natasha and Tony were the same in a lot of ways—both hard to open up, hard to accept love, hard to believe that people cared without reason.

She understood him in that way, so she saved him by turning to Steve, bumping shoulders, and saying, "You're such a sap."

The comms clicked for a second and Clint's voice came through. "You guys need me to sit out with you? I'm amazing at that shit. I've got PTSD coming out my asshole, so grounding is my best friend."

"This PTSD sounds very painful if it comes out of assholes," Thor responded ignorantly, though there was genuine compassion in his voice. "But fear not, my friend, we shall defeat this evil in your name as you convalesce."

"Hulk hug," Hulk's voice responded aggressively, to which everyone responded a loud and firm "No!"

Tony couldn't help the chuckle that relaxed him at the ridiculousness of it all. Steve started to laugh too, which only caused Tony to laugh harder. Natasha rolled her eyes, but her smirk was undeniable. Tony was sure he was surrounded by a whole lot of crazy, but also by a family he hadn't realized until this moment he had.

Tony shook his head firmly, refocused on the one thing in his life that was steady—but she'd left him too once. No, he couldn't think those thoughts—

"You guys had such great times," Pepper smiled wistfully. "Whose idea was it to take so many pictures?"

"Natasha's or Clints," Tony shrugged. His eyes and tone were cold, trying to repress the memories that wanted to overtake him. "They thought that Ste—Captain America—needed to make new memories. So, yeah, pictures. Everyone got the same copies though. Part of the rules. No one could have a secret stash. You took a picture, you had to send out copies to everyone. Bruce was surprisingly annoying about the rules—who would've known?"

Pepper had clearly heard the stumble, but she didn't comment on it, and Tony was grateful. It was hard enough to talk about the fractured team. After Siberia, it was just easier to call him Captain America than Steve. Steve Rogers—Cap—had been his friend. They'd shared ups and downs, grief and happiness.

They'd been bonded and he wasn't sure how to forgive the man for walking away. He wasn't sure he knew how to forgive any of the Rogues for disillusioning him.

"Would you look at this," her eyes were intent on every detail of the picture before her. Her smile was sentimental, and Tony was lost in looking at her instead of the picture.

Fuck, he loved her. Sometimes the sensation slammed in his ribcage and he surprised himself with the force of it.

Pepper nudged him with her elbow. "Look."

Tony rolled his eyes, pretended that he was okay looking at a past that haunted him. But his breath caught. Before his eyes was a candid picture of Steve smiling down at Natasha as she had her head thrown back in laughter. It was a rare moment captured to see the mysterious Black Widow laughing so completely. Living life so fully.

Completely present in that moment.

His eyes were tender, and her body leaned back into his slightly. His hand was on her waist steadying her.

They looked like the perfect picture of love.

"They were so clueless," Pepper joked, but it felt like Tony was being cut in half. Because fuck, he'd been rooting hard for those two. At every chance he got he'd throw a line to Steve—"So, Red got any plans this weekend?" or "Maybe you should go to the movies—ask Nat to go with you."

Pepper continued the one-sided conversation. "They had so much chemistry, you could probably light up a Christmas tree."

"She ended up with Banner at the end—before he disappeared off to whatever sunset," Tony said absentmindedly. His eyes were focused on the past staring him in the face, and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel this longing in his heart for people who'd betrayed him, left him behind.

The small black flip phone burned in his pocket more than ever.

Pepper scoffed. "She moved on, because Steve was stuck on the great love of his life. On a future that he could never have anymore. There's a difference between moving on out of no other choice, and letting go—genuinely wanting something else."

Tony couldn't help but look at Pepper, because they'd never really talked about why she left him right before the Civil War.

"Is that what you did when you left me? Try to move on?

The words escaped him before he could stop them, but fuck, he needed to know. He hadn't even known that he needed to know, but there it was.

The question that constantly ate him about them.

"Tony," Pepper forgot about the picture in her hands, and turned to him more fully. "I was never trying to move on or let go. I just...I needed you to understand that love was about the choices we make. I—you and I were supposed to compromise like all relationships and make it through happier and stronger than ever, but I felt like...I felt like at some point you stopped compromising, and I was the only one willing to shift, adjust—make space for the things that made you feel happy and safe and loved. But you didn't seem to ever make that kind of space for me. Us on a break wasn't about me trying to let go or move on. It was just about giving you time away from me to understand those things."

Tony felt such an intense relief that his body sagged and he thought tears might have been burning his eyes.

"Pep—I—I understood—"he choked out. "I understand. Shit—I—"

He could barely get the words out, he felt so overcome. She was everything to him, and to know that he hadn't lost her, not even for a second. He wanted to hold her in his arms and—

Pepper kissed him, and it was everything he needed, because her lips were like a lifeline. Her tongue dipped slightly into his mouth, and drew him out, into hers. His hands slid into her hair, and hers slid up his chest and wrapped around the nape of his neck as she turned fully into him.

They engulfed each other and soon, all that could be heard was the sound of moans and pleasure. They purged all of their doubts and fears into each other through the journey of ecstacy and murmurs of love.

For that moment it was enough.

Finally, class was over, and Peter wasted no time in walking over to Gwen. He touched her right arm.

It was like that one touch was fire. Their eyes locked, and Peter didn't even have to say anything—she knew. He knew she knew, and fuck, he wanted to just spend eternity feeling that burn.

He never noticed Ned's confused stare at his abrupt departure, or MJ's eyes following them, as he walked out of the room with Gwen—his hand on the small of her back. MJ's heart dangling behind them before Brad walked over with his easy smile and humor.

Gwen walked into the eraser room, and Peter thought how lucky they were that the room was even empty at this time of day.

Gwen didn't say a word and Peter wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to her. He wasn't sure if it was okay for him to ask her how'd the bruise on her face happened.

"It looks worse than it is," she joked lightly, but Peter wanted to smash his lips against hers, envelop her in his arms until he was tired of holding her. He didn't want her platitudes. He wanted nothing but the truth, and if he couldn't get that, then he'd just take her. All of her.

He touched her face, and before his eyes the bruise went from pale green to a brownish yellow. It was healing. She was healing.

What the fuck—

"You're like me?" he whispered without thinking. He should've just asked if she was enhanced or not. But he was too shocked, too relieved to not be the only one in the school.

"Yeah, I guess," she shrugged and looked away. "Sorta anyway. Probably. I—it's a bit complicated."

Peter couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. "Yeah, mine too."

"Wanna get out of here?" Gwen was close, and he wondered where they'd go. He figured he was already grounded—what's the worse that can happen? And attendance had already been taken for the day, so no one would probably notice he'd skipped out.

"Yeah," he bit his lips. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but this felt right. Being next to Gwen felt like his body was in a constant state of relaxation and awareness simultaneously—wired. The feeling was sort of addicting.

Peter wasn't sure if he liked that fact. But he was sure he didn't want it to go away any time soon, either.

After the sweat on their bodies cooled slightly, and Pepper had her chin propped on Tony's chest, photographs scattered in their frantic haste to couple, they were silent. They were lost in their own thoughts, but Pepper saw the black burner phone on the ground that had slipped out of Tony's jeans.

She knew where it had come from, but she couldn't understand why Tony always carried it if he never planned on using it. She never thought she would understand. But it wasn't really about her, either, so she figured she didn't need to wholly understand.

Pepper spoke quietly. "You know you're going to have to talk about it, right?"

"About what?"

"About Steve—about how much he hurt you."

"Maybe, I don't know." Tony tensed, and he couldn't help the intense feeling to run, get out, that ran through him. This wasn't a conversation he could have. Not then, maybe not ever. Without thinking, he changed the subject—preferred to leap into a conversation he was dreading than talk about his complicated relationship with Steve. "But not now. We've got other things to talk about."

"What things?" She sat up slightly, eyes intent upon his face, her breasts grazing his chest seductively.

"I...Peter's been a bit of a handful lately, and I just...we created a schedule. For the days she has to work nights, and right after school. I'd take him."

"What?" Pepper's eyes were like lasers. She sat up fully, unembarrassed at her breasts on full display for his eyes. "Who's 'we'?"

"Peter's aunt and I—" Tony sighed, because he knew this was not going how he wanted it to and the conversation had just started. He sat up as well. "We decided that the nights she has to work, Peter will be staying with me—us. Here. At the tower."

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely? Until he gets past whatever rebellious teenager phase he's in? I don't know. We didn't really discuss a time limit. This is what's best for him now. Later...is later."

"Well," Pepper leaped off the bed and started throwing on her clothes furiously. "I'm glad you guys were able to figure out a solution that worked for you."

Tony knew she was upset, but he wasn't sure why, and he didn't feel like playing twenty-one questions. "Why are you mad?"

Pepper turned sharply towards him, eyes like swords. "I'm annoyed that you made such a huge decision without talking with me about it first."

"I didn't realize I needed your permission," Tony's lips tightened.

"This isn't about permission. This is about us being together. We're a team, Tony. Engaged! We're not supposed to just go and make huge life choices without consulting the other. Did you contemplate for even one second that I might have wanted to be a part of that conversation? That I might have wanted to help be a part of making a solution?"

"What huge life choice? There was no huge life choice. Peter's sleeping over certain days. That's not huge by anyone's scale."

"You co-parenting with another woman who I've never met doesn't sound like a major life decision to you? "

"I'm not co-parenting," Tony rolled his shoulders and stretched his fingers in uneasy discomfort. Just the sound of the word 'co-parenting' made him want to gauge his eyes out with a pen. He wasn't anyone's parent. He was barely an adequate mentor as it was. "I'm just helping."

"Just like you and Steve weren't basically brothers. You were just teammates, right?" Pepper raised a disbelieving and mocking eyebrow as she slipped into her heels. "You could care less that he's not around, right?"

She shook her head at him with such disappointment and disenchantment that Tony thought her gaze was going to crush him, break him down until he was a sobbing mess on the floor, drowning in his sorrows and pain at kind of breaking her heart.

Her words rendered him that sort of speechless; she turned around swiftly, her heels clicking and clacking on the pristine floor as she walked out of the room.

Tony sat still, wondering if he was cursed to break the things he loved. But he knew that couldn't be true, because their mixed sweat was still on his skin. He basked in the feeling as he closed his eyes for a second.

She loved him. She would never leave him.

That was enough to get through anything—even this. Whatever this was.

The walk to the park was quiet, but the air around them was electrified, so much so that the hairs on his arms stood raised the entire time. The trees were bright with green leaves, and the wind was crisp against their skin as they found a place to sit.

Once they sat down on a park bench, Peter couldn't contain himself.

"Who did that to your face?"

"Maybe I fell," Gwen shrugged nonchalantly, but Peter saw through that. He saw through her, and it wasn't anything like seeing MJ. Seeing MJ was calm, and fulfilling somehow. Seeing through Gwen was like living in the eye of a storm.

"You didn't fall," Peter called her out.

"Maybe I did though."

"You didn't," Peter said harshly. He couldn't help himself. He just—he couldn't stand not knowing. He couldn't stand the images that flashed in his mind. "Just—what happened?"

"My dad got drunk," Gwen shrugged again, and he wanted to hold her shoulders down to stop her from pretending that none of this mattered. "I'm pretty good at steering clear when he's drunk, but I was distracted. Didn't notice until it was too late. It happens sometimes. Not a big deal."

"Gwen," Peter ran a shaking hand through his hair. "This is definitely a big deal. You've been out for three days and you've got healing powers. I can't even think—"

Peter felt like he was swirling, lost, confused, so fucking angry—but Gwen's hand rested on his, and it was like he could take a deep breath again. Like his anger was crushed by her presence.

"I'm fine," Gwen said quietly, and he looked into her eyes. "It's not perfect, but a few more years and I'll be out of there."

"You could be out of there tomorrow if you told someone."

She shook her head. "I can't control my powers. My dad might be an abusive drunk, but he's my dad. He won't turn me in or out for being a mutant. The same can't be said for some random foster parent. And wherever I'm placed, they probably won't be willing to pay all the fees for Midtown."

Peter knew that what she said made perfect sense, but it tore at his chest. She took her hand back, and Peter wished she hadn't, but he knew they had to get whatever was between them under control.

"I think mutant is a bit harsh," Peter joked, trying to add some levity. "I prefer enhanced."

Gwen smiled, but shook her head at him. "Lab rats are enhanced. Captain America is enhanced. We're literally mutants."

"Wait—what?"

"What what?"

"What do you mean by 'we're mutants'?"

"Well, you're not enhanced are you?" she raised a mocking eyebrow.

"Aren't you?" he said incredulously.

There was an awkward pause where they each looked at the other in slight wonder.

Gwen swallowed nervously, and said quietly. "I was born with my powers."

Peter didn't know what to do or how to respond. He wasn't sure there was a proper response. "How is that possible?"

Gwen peered at him closely, and Peter wanted to lean his head forehead, touch hers, inhale her essence into him. But she must have seen something in him.

"You've never met another mutant have you?"

"N-no?"

Peter wasn't sure who he'd ever met in that Civil War.

"They say it's a gene that gets activated when people hit puberty. A natural mutation in our DNA that gives us special abilities."

"Who's they?"

Gwen shrugged and smiled ruefully, completely unconcerned with thinking about how that information had spread. Peter grinned at her devil-may-care attitude about something that would have absolutely driven him nuts if he were in her shoes.

"Is that how you got your healing?"

"Yes and no," she tucked a peice of hair behind her ear but it didn't stay. Peter raised his hand without thinking, and tucked it securely behind her ear. Their eyes locked, and a sudden fire spread through them. Gwen bit her bottom lip, trying to control her reaction to his simple touch; Peter let out a shuddered breath.

"I—" Peter started to say something, but Gwen clenched her legs together, trying to release a little pressure that she felt, and it was too much for Peter. He could sense the pleasure, the heat coming off her body and without thought he kissed her.

They were tongue, and teeth, and tiny moans in the back of their throats—practically magical.

Peter's hands wandered through her hair, as her nails dug into his biceps. She was drawing blood—he could smell it. But he didn't care because he felt like his insides were flying—

"Get a room" an old man growled as he passed them by. "Fucking kids nowadays."

Gwen and Peter split apart, and tried to calm their breathing. They looked away from each other, trying to regain some balance.

"Sorry," Peter said sheepishly to her. He should've known better than to touch her at all. The last few times they'd touched had been explosive and there'd been no reason not to think this time would be any different.

Gwen shook her head, and cleared her throat nervously. "No, it's my fault. Um...where was I?"

That refocused Peter like she'd splashed freezing water on him. "You were telling me about your powers."

"Oh, right, yeah," Gwen took a deep calming breath. "I can heal other people. Before, when I first got my powers, I could only heal myself, but then my cousin had this spider that Oscorp had in their lab—he's a janitor there and there'd been some fire. I don't know. But he brought the thing home, and the shit bit me. Ever since then, I can heal other people, too. I can't control it, though. Sometimes when I want it to work, it won't, and sometimes when I don't want it to, it does. Sometimes, instead of simply healing, I'll take on their injury."

Peter felt like the earth had shifted underneath his feet. Of course Oscorp had to be involved, even if it was minimally. He tried never to think about Oscorp ever since the bite, but he couldn't help the way he tensed at hearing the name.

"I can help you, maybe. If you want," Peter stuttered a bit. "I don't know how much help I can be, but maybe Mr. Stark could help."

"Can we trust your dad though?"

Peter almost choked on air, he was so surprised. "Mr. Stark isn't my dad."

"Didn't he go to the school when you got in trouble?"

"Yeah."

"Does he lecture you? Ground you?"

"Sure, but—"

"Do you ever sleep over his place?"

Peter felt really uneasy about this line of questioning. "...Yeah…"

Gwen rolled her eyes, and said in a duh tone, "He's your dad."

Peter almost smiled at her strange logic. "I don't think that's quite how that works. But, the point is that he knows about me and all he's ever done is try to help. I'm sure he'd try to help you, too, if we told him."

Gwen snorted disbelievingly, but she didn't outright object, and Peter felt like that was something he could work with. He wasn't sure why he wanted to help her, except that it felt right.

She did have an uneasy look in her eyes, though. "If you tell him and he tells someone—"

"He won't."

"But if he does...my life is literally on the line, Peter…"

Peter's gut clenched at the thought that he could be putting her in danger. But he trusted Tony completely. "He won't tell anyone. Believe me. He could've told anyone ages ago bout me, but all he's ever done is try to help me, protect me."

"Okay," Gwen said nervously, but Peter understood her nerves. He also admired the fact that he could clearly see on her face the moment she decided to trust Peter's judgment. "So what's your gift?" she switched gears, and he thought it was really awesome that she thought of her powers as gifts.

This was a moment of truth for Peter. Did he want her to know everything? Did he want her to know who he truly was? He wasn't sure about either of those. But he did know that he felt giddy at the thought of telling her—anyone, actually. Everyone in his life who knew about Spider Man, knew because they'd caught him red-handed. Not because he'd chosen to trust them.

Peter took a steadying breath. "Super strength, super hearing—I'm Spiderman."

"Holy shit," Gwen covered her mouth in shock for a moment. Peter thought she looked magnificent, hair shinning in the sun. Except she started to glare at him. "Are you crazy? Why would you expose yourself like that?"

Peter frowned. "What was I supposed to do? I woke up one day with these incredible powers, with the ability to do something. And so many people need help...was I just supposed to turn away? Pretend I don't have the ability to help them?"

Gwen's shoulders sagged, and Peter thought he could understand why she reacted the way she did. He was enhanced, but she'd been born with her powers. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, but he knew deep in his bones that it made them different. It made her a different kind of special than him. Maybe even a dangerous kind of special.

"People like me, mutants, we avoid attention. We avoid the spotlight, so we definitely don't go into the superhero gig," Gwen smiled sadly at him. "We're just trying to survive—live our lives in peace."

Peter could imagine how a government who knew there was such a thing as mutants would react. People feared what they couldn't understand. He thought of his own terror those first few weeks after his transformation; he thought Oscorp or someone would come in the middle of the night and take him away.

Peter wasn't sure what to say—how to fix the world for her, but in his heart he wanted to. Instead, he went with his genuine surprise. "I never really thought that there were so many people like me out there. Maybe not enhanced, but, y'know, gifted."

Gwen smiled, "yeah—some people hide it better than others. But you can see it sometimes if you're looking for it. I knew someone—a few years older—had to disappear because her face changed."

Peter wanted to ask what she meant, but he couldn't just ignore the more pressing issue.

"Why do you think we have this thing between us?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?" she said flippantly.

"I guess not. But if I can't concentrate with you around—yeah, I guess it kind of does matter, too, y'know?"

Gwen laughed, and it was the first time he'd ever heard her laughter. It sounded nice. Soothing. Peter thought about MJ and Brad for a second. Brad might make MJ laugh but Peter could make a girl laugh too.

This moment had nothing to do with MJ or Brad, but he couldn't help feel a bit better as Gwen continued to laugh, and he started to laugh along with her.

Fuck Brad.

Someone definitely noticed he was gone, and by the time he'd reached the Tower, Tony was already nursing a glass of bourbon with a scowl on his face looking over the city—pacing in front of the glass more likely. But nothing could take away the strange feeling in Peter's chest—it was relief and warmth and a little something like hope.

"I'm just gonna assume you have a good reason for skipping out of class? Because if you don't you can sure as shit kiss goodbye to spidermanning for at least a month! More!" Tony's words spread panic through Peter, and Tony's could see it clear as day on his face.

"That's not fair!" Peter clutched his book bag tighter.

Fuck, he really was just like Howard. That was the same bullshit power move that Howard used to pull on him.

It never really worked either. Tony would just get new toys, or make his own, and he knew Peter was smart enough to get creative if he took away the suit for that long.

He had no real reason for jumping into the conversation like that, but damn he'd been frustrated. May hadn't been kidding.

This is going to be a shitshow for a while. Especially now that he's hit his full teenage rebellion years apparently.

Tony sighed, and tried the approach he always wished his father had tried with him.

"Okay, okay," he ran a hand over his face and went over to sit on the couches. He gestured for Peter to take a seat. "Let's just—start from the top. What happened?"

"Remember that girl I was telling you about last night?"

"Ah, so it is a girl," Tony couldn't stop the smirk that came on his face along with the bite in his tone. He knew he should control it, that he had to remember that Peter didn't cost the city millions in damages like last time. He skipped class. He'd definitely done worse than that at his age. He'd already been at MIT at his age, too, which probably had a negative influence on his behavior, surrounded by drinking age people. It was about perspective, right. He just needed to keep this in perspective. Not all crimes were alike. Going out patrolling without Karen wasn't the same thing as skipping class with a crush. Tony almost felt relief that this was all it was. Not so a-typical rebellion. Nothing abnormal about it.

"Yeah," Peter rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous habit. "Well, she finally showed up to class today, and she had this massive bruise on her face, and I touched it and it started to heal and I was like—woah, what the hell, right? But, she was like that it was complicated, and I was like—you know, that I could relate. So, yeah, I sorta told her I'm enhanced, too, and then we left to talk because this was a lot more important than math class, y'know? So we went to the park, and she told me that she was a mutant but then she got bit by an experimented spider that changed her mutation, and she doesn't know how to control her healing powers yet, and I told her I'd help train her—well, that we'd help, because I know what that's like, having something you can't control..."

Peter trailed off, and looked away, slightly uncomfortable with his word vomit. He kept how she had gotten that bruise to himself though; it felt wrong to share such intimate details about her home life. It wasn't his story to tell, and she didn't want help in that regard. He could understand that. If Aunt May had been a different type of guardian, he would've wanted to keep that to himself, too.

Tony, on the other hand, was reeling.

"What the hell is a mutant?"

Peter huffed out a laugh, because he'd had to ask too.

He's your dad.

In moments like these, it almost felt like the truth somehow.

Tony sat in his leather computer chair, feet up on his desk, reclined as though he had no worries in the world, glasses twirling in one hand, phone pressed to his ear in the other. He'd left Peter working in the lab while he excused himself to make this phone call.

"Platypus, dear, conk to my shell, what are Mutants?" Tony had gotten some kind of sparknotes version from Peter. All his answer consisted of was a shrug and "they're naturally enhanced."

"Where'd you hear that word?" he could feel Rhodey's glare through the phone, but, eh, Rhodey glared at him more times than he didn't so it didn't quite have the same effect on him anymore.

"Don't answer a question with a question. Bad form and all that. You know that I'm very informed, and that I will go around you to find out—easier for the both of us if you just tell me."

Rhodey sighed harshly, clearly disgruntled, but also fully aware that Tony wasn't above making a lot of noise to get an answer. No one wanted noise when it came to Mutants. Especially the mutants.

"They're like the enhanced, only, they come by their powers naturally. A mutation in the DNA triggered by trauma or something. And their powers are as diverse as you can imagine. Just think about something, and there's probably a mutant out there that can either control it or create it. Technically, it's the next evolution of humans, I guess."

"How am I only just hearing about this?" Tony hissed. Considering how many times he'd broken into pentagon files, it rankled his ego a bit that something this huge has gone under his radar.

"The government has kept it under wraps and Mutants keep themselves well hidden. Mutants got onto our radar during the forties, I think? Maybe the sixties? I don't know. Clearly before my time." Rhodey said glibly, but there was an edge that told Tony he was highly uncomfortable. "But can you imagine the fear? People accept enhanced individuals because most enhanced try to be heroes with their powers. The Avengers put 'enhanced' as synonymous with 'good' after the Battle of New York. But a ton of people are mutants—more than we probably think—they just hide it. If they can—I've heard that some have physical mutations—they look like monsters from horror movies. I don't know. Never actually met one. But the point is that mutants would freak people out. People understand enhanced individuals—that's science. But mutants? That's just evolution, and the rest of us who are normal are behind the curve."

"Shit," Tony stopped twirling the glasses and sat up straighter in his chair. He didn't like any of this.

"Yeah, which is why I'm telling you right now to leave this alone," Rhodey said gravely, and it made Tony want to grab his Iron Man gear in protection. He'd wanted to put a shield around the world, but at this moment, all he thought about was Peter, and his friend. All he could think about was how this was going to effect Peter—knowing a Mutant. Helping a mutant. Maybe even falling in love with a mutant. He really didn't like any of this, or the trouble he could practically smell that was coming at them. Rhodey's tone just compounded the feelings of anxiety that rose inside of him. "Don't go digging anymore—the higher ups are really touchy about this subject. There's this guy—Stryker—whose been itching to start a search and experimentation program on them. A lot of people in the know think that Mutants fall under the Accords, and since we can assume that they obviously use their powers all the time, that they should be locked up."

Tony's legs swept off the desk, and planted themselves firmly on the ground, his fingers gripping the phone tight. "That's bullshit!"

"I know, but that's what it is. So don't go giving them any excuse to want to lock those people up, Tony. Mutants aren't like us. There are some who think that they're walking weapons, therefore they should be treated like weapons of mass destruction—each one. And what makes everyone nervous is that if they decide to charge a full out war because the accords were enforced on them, no one's sure who'd win."

Rhodey hung up unceremoniously, but Tony didn't blame him. All of this left a bad taste in his mouth.

Mutants aren't like us.

But Tony couldn't help hearing Steve in his head: no, they're not like us. Because we're privileged. They're oppressed, living in fear most likely of being found out.

Especially, because he saw the way Peter's eyes sparkled when he talked about this mutant girl—Gwen. Peter would get involved to protect her.

And Tony would get involved to protect him.

Fuck, Tony needed a drink.

May felt like she'd had the longest day ever as she walked into the apartment and flung her coat on top of a chair. Flu season was going around, and there'd been a pile up crash; between the two the ER had been slammed all day. As she slipped her shoes off, she looked around for Peter's bag. She didn't see it, so she assumed he was still at Stark's place.

As she was headed straight for the wine rack, she heard a distinct buzzing sound that had her reaching for her coat pockets.

Think of the devil, she thought as she saw his name flashed across her cellphone's screen.

"Is everything okay?" May said in a way of greeting. Her and Tony weren't friends. They only contacted the other when something was wrong. Even their exchange of texts to create some sort of schedule had been courteous, detached almost.

She knew that half the reason for that was her own emotions that tittered between frosty and empathy.

Tony didn't bother with a polite greeting, either, and so May didn't feel too bad. "Did the school call you?"

May reached for the wine as she answered.

"They left a message. I just heard it a few minutes ago before I got home. What happened?"

"He skipped class over some girl. I don't know if I should be proud or upset."

May couldn't help the smile that graced her lips. "Both?"

They shared a laugh and it was nice. For Tony, it almost felt like having Steve with him again for a moment. But May wasn't Steve, and Tony needed to let whatever was eating at him go.

May took in Tony's silence, and she thought, maybe they could try to be friends. If only she didn't miss Ben so much when Tony was nice and clearly focused on Peter. In those moments, she felt Ben's absence in her life the most.

"Did you punish him for skipping class?" May asked after she took a long sip from her wine glass that said I Solemnly Swear That I'm Up To No Good in bold letters.

"Honestly, he hit me with something so shocking that I forgot," Tony huffed out, half annoyed, half bemused. "He's already grounded for the no-suit after hours stunt. What more could I add that wouldn't be extreme?"

"You're Iron Man. I'm sure you could've thought of something if you really wanted to."

"Maybe I didn't want to."

His answer was so simple that May had nothing to say to that. Because she understood the feeling, the soul gripping emotions that warred within at unexpected moments. The times where grounding or giving any sort of punishment just seemed like too much effort, too much...just too much.

"Yeah," May empathized with him. "Sometimes I don't want to, either."

The shared silence was nice and May enjoyed it while she took another sip of her wine.

"Peter's on his way. Happy's dropping him off."

"I figured. Guess I should get used to the deluxe service, huh." May said it without thinking, and figured it came out a little too harsh than how she meant it. "I'm so used to having to worry about him taking the train at night, all the crazies...It gets to be a habit, y'know? Worrying."

"I know," Tony said quietly. May thought he wasn't going to say anything else, but he continued. "I used to worry a lot about Ste—Captain America. He just always seemed to attract trouble. Even when there was none in sight, he'd find it. I got used to always having my phone on because you'd never know when he'd call in for backup. You never knew when he'd get hurt. Peter reminded me a lot of him when I came here to meet him. Reckless, but so focused on doing the right thing...no matter what...I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and check the vitals from the Spider Suit, just to make sure he's okay. That he hasn't gone full Captain and run into something too dangerous without telling anyone and gotten himself crazy injured…"

His voice was a little rough, and she figured he didn't talk about it much. May wasn't sure what to say, but was prepared to give him some level of sympathy. It was clear that he missed his friend; that Steve Roger's had left some kind of gaping hole in Tony's life. A hole that Tony filled with Peter to an extent, and May couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry about that turn of event.

Tony cleared his throat and shifted gears. "I told Pepper about the new schedule."

"How'd she take it?"

"Well enough," Tony said nonchalantly. But May was a woman.

"So horribly?" she chuckled.

Tony couldn't help his surprise, or the smirk that graced his lips. "Why do you figure that?"

May rolled her eyes and walked towards the living room sofa. She curled her feet underneath her as she took another sip and let it release the stress from her day. "I'm a woman. No woman is gonna like her man making plans with another woman without her."

Tony scoffed. "Pepper has seen me in my playboy bachelor days. She's not the insecure type."

"No one is," May said wisely, thinking of how she'd flipped out once when she saw Ben walking with his arm around a woman's waist years ago. She'd never considered herself the jealous type until she walked up to him and slapped him so hard his head had snapped to the side. He'd been furious, but he'd calmly and acidily introduced her to his cousin, Samantha, who'd hurt her ankle a block before. May shook the memory away. "No one is until they suddenly are. Until they find someone worth being jealous over."

"Maybe I should just buy her roses—no, a diamond necklace," Tony threw out a few ideas. More relaxed than he'd been all day. "Women like diamonds. Would forgive almost anything for diamonds. Really big ones."

"You're delusional if you think that's true," May raised an eyebrow he couldn't see. But this was bringing a different issue she hadn't thought of before to the forefront. Her voice was serious when she said, "Is this going to be an issue?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean for Peter. Is this going to become a problem? Will she take whatever her issue is out on Peter?"

Tony genuinely forgot that May had never met Pepper. That May and Peter have only been in his life a short time relatively. If she had met Pepper, she'd never have asked. "Absolutely not. Pep isn't like that. What's between me and her is between us. She won't let that bleed to Peter. He's just a kid."

"Good," May took another sip, and realized she might need a refill soon. She was definitely up to no good tonight, she thought with humor. "She sounds like a good woman."

"She is. The best actually," Tony said as he clearly poured himself another glass. May could hear the clinking of the ice.

"What are you drinking?"

"Bourbon on the rocks. You?"

"Wine. The cheap kind," she quipped. She also couldn't help the frown that marred her features. "You shouldn't drink with Peter around."

Tony scoffed. "Yeah, because that'll be what drives him to drink."

"I'm just saying, he's a smart kid. He'll notice how much you drink. We don't want him thinking that's a normal habit—to drink that much."

Tony groaned, and May almost felt bad for calling it out. She knew she was a hypocrite. She drank with Peter around all the time. But her drinking was after work, tired, just-want-to-watch-tv-and-sleep drinking. It wasn't day drinking, night drinking, constantly-have-a-glass-in-my-hand sort of drinking.

"What makes you think I drink that much?"

"Unlike Peter, I can remember the 90's and your constant drunken face on tabloids."

"Ah, those were the days," Tony joked, but there was a tension in his voice that hadn't been there before, and May figured he didn't like to be reminded of his past. She could tell that he'd made a concerted effort since the Avengers formed to not be associated with that sort of behavior. Didn't mean she liked him any better for it. Hell, May wasn't sure where she stood when it came to Tony Stark on any given day. But he didn't deserve her contempt or ridicule either, and she was self aware enough to know that and recognize her own hypocrisy.

May sighed, and tried to explain better. "I know you don't get drunk with Peter around. But he's in that age where he picks up what he sees and he emulates it. Even if he doesn't right now, he'll store that behavior in his brain. Hell, I should probably stop drinking so often too."

"And here I thought you were perfect," Tony taunted. He'd felt attacked, and May didn't blame him.

"I'm not," May took a long sip, and stared into the empty wine glass. "But we've just gotta keep trying to be. Peter deserves that from us."

We've just gotta keep trying.

It was a sentiment they could both agree on.

May stood from the couch to go to the kitchen, either to get another glass of wine or put her wine glass in the sink—she wasn't sure which—when she crossed the window, and looked down the street, to see a black sleek car pulling up to the curb.

"Looks like Peter's home," she informed Tony.

"Okay, well, I'll leave you to it."

"Tony," May stopped him before he could hang up. She wasn't sure why, but she thought it had mattered that he talked about Captain America. "Do you...Do you ever talk to him—Captain America? Or any of the Rogues?"

"No." His voice was hard, cold. But May thought about how sad he'd sounded when talking about Captain America.

"Do you ever think you will again?"

There was a long pause, and she could hear the shuddering breath on the other line, as though he were forcing himself to breathe normally.

"I don't know," Tony whispered. He wanted to hide himself like he'd done with Pepper earlier, but maybe it was the bourbon swirling warm and soothing in his chest or the bond of reluctant "co-parenting" that seemed to tie him and Aunt Hotty now, but hiding didn't feel like an option. "He was my brother, and he betrayed me. I'm not sure how to forgive him. Don't know if I'll ever know how."

May watched Peter bounce out of the car with such youthful jubilance that it put a small smile on her face just watching. She knew it wasn't her place to give Tony any advice. They weren't friends. They were barely reluctant co-parents.

But he called and she asked, and now she couldn't really stay silent on the issue.

"Well, I'll tell you what I always tell Peter: Anger and resentment is corrosive. Don't let it linger inside of you too long. You don't want Peter learning that behavior from you, too."

We've just gotta keep trying.

Peter Deserves that from us.

"Fuck, May, really?" Tony responded angrily, and ended the line. It was a shitty thing for her to do—guilt trip. But there was also some truth in that, too. Either way, May knew he'd heard her. Maybe that was enough for someone who was in so much pain.

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