"You're up early."

Peter had been sitting on the sofa in the lounge, still dressed in his pajamas, reading a book he'd found on the same shelf Natasha had pulled the books that he'd used as boosters the day before. It was a military history book, and not too interesting to the boy, but he didn't think anyone would mind if he read it as long as it kept him out of the way while the rest of the compound slept around him.

He'd woken several hours before, and had lounged in his bed for almost ten minutes before boredom made him get up and begin trying to find something to occupy himself. The room was pretty bare, however, and while he'd brought his backpack with him, he didn't have anything in it that would keep him interested for very long. The lounge wasn't far from his room, and he didn't think that it would count as wandering off if he was still in the building, so he'd made his way there and had found the book and settled himself.

Now, however, Steve Rogers proved that Peter wasn't the only early riser in the avenger compound, and the man's expression didn't look annoyed at finding the boy somewhere other than his room.

"I don't sleep, much," he explained, holding up the book to prove that he was being careful. "So I found a book."

Steve took it, turned it over to read the title, and then handed it back to him.

"A little light reading?" he asked, amused.

"Just something to do." The little boy turned a few pages and held up the book, again, though, showing a picture of a very familiar figure. "You're in it."

Steve smiled, now. Peter knew who he was, of course, but apparently was just beginning to piece together that the Steve Rogers he'd spent some of the day before hiding from with Natasha was the same Steve Rogers who had fought in a war that had been finished decades ago. It was probably surreal.

"Yeah. You know what happened to me, right?"

"Yes. I read about it." He hesitated. "Did it hurt?"

"Being frozen?"

"The plane crash."

Oh.

Steve knew how Peter had lost his parents, of course.

"No," he assured him. "I didn't feel a thing. It was very quick."

"Were you scared?"

"No." He leaned over the back of the couch, his blue eyes meeting Peter's brown ones. "I didn't have time to be scared, either. It was like falling asleep."

"Only you woke up."

"Yes," Steve took the book, again, and set it aside, picking up Peter in his powerful arms, easily. "I woke up to a whole new world, really. Much different than the one I left behind."

"Better, though?" Peter asked.

"In some ways, much better." He smiled to find himself holding a little kid – not something he did more than long enough to allow a parent to take a photo – and ruffled the boy's curls, ready to change the subject to something less serious. "I'm going to go for a run. Why don't you come with me?"

"Can I?"

"Yup." He looked at the clothes the boy was wearing, and his smile made his eyes light up. "Let's find you something else to wear, though. Ironman pajamas are all well and good, but I happen to have something much better that Tony's going to love."

OOOOOOOOOO

It was a measure of how good the security was at the compound that Tony wasn't worried about finding Peter gone the next morning when he'd woken, dressed, and gone to check to see if the boy was awake, yet. Only to find his bed and room both empty. The bed was neatly made, something that had made Tony frown, and the backpack was sitting in the middle of it. An immediate call to JARVIS who had eyes on every camera and all the past recordings assured him that Peter hadn't wandered off, but had been shanghaied by Steve.

JARVIS told him that they were outside, under an awning to avoid the heavy rain that was falling, but that Peter had been introduced to one of the guard dogs that patrolled the perimeter of the compound and was rubbing the fearsome beast's belly as they spoke to the SHIELD agent who held the leash.

Relaxed (if he couldn't trust Peter with Captain America, who could he trust?) Tony had gone to the lounge to get some coffee and see who else was stirring. He was sitting at a table with Natasha and Sam, discussing what they might do that morning, when Romanoff suddenly smiled, her eyes going over Tony's shoulder toward the entrance to the room.

"Oh, that's adorable."

Curious, Tony turned and looked, as well, and rolled his eyes.

Peter and Steve had walked into the room. Both were wearing sweats and hooded sweatshirts. Steve's clothing was simply gray; his usual running clothes, Tony knew. Peter, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of blue sweats that were only a little big on him, with a blue sweatshirt that had the Captain America shield on it. Steve's own personal brand logo. The boy was smiling, and a quick look at Steve showed he couldn't quite suppress just how smug he looked at having his own personal mini-me, just then.

"Where did you get that shirt?" Tony asked Peter when the boy was close enough to speak to.

Peter's smile grew.

"Steve gave it to me."

"I keep getting samples sent to me," Rogers told Tony, picking the boy up and putting him in the chair with the books. They were going to have to find something a little more permanent if he was going to be a return guest. "They pile up until I have a chance to deliver them to someplace that can use them. Luckily, there were plenty in Peter's size."

"Pretty neat, huh?" Peter asked, looking down to admire the sweatshirt. "He has all kinds of stuff; cups, and socks, and a keychain I can give Ned."

"There's plenty more, too," Steve said, smirking. "I'll send some home for the other boys, too."

Tony forced himself not to roll his eyes, again, and reached over and tapped Peter's nose.

"We'll get you some Ironman things, too," he told the boy. "That way you guys can all look good."

"Wow. Thanks."

The billionaire tossed Rogers a triumphant look, and Steve didn't bother to hide his amusement at the attempt to be one-upped. He had a lot of merchandizing, after all. Captain America had been around a lot longer than Ironman, after all.

"Christmas is coming," Sam pointed out. Not immediately, but a few months wasn't that long. "Maybe Santa will bring a sleigh filled with Avenger toys."

Peter smiled at him.

"Santa isn't real. Everyone knows that."

Wilson's eyes grew wide, and he allowed his jaw to drop open, affecting shock.

"What? Who told you that?"

"My aunt. She said that Santa's made up. She said my mom and dad were the ones that bought the presents that showed up under the Christmas tree." He shrugged. "She must have been right, too," he added. "Because there weren't any after they died."

"Maybe Santa just didn't know where to find you," Sam pointed out. "He's a pretty busy guy, after all, and someone might have forgotten to tell him."

The little boy shook his head, not convinced, but clearly considering the possibility.

"I don't think so…"

He was magic, right?

"What time are you taking Peter home, today?" Natasha asked, Tony, curiously, ready to switch topics, even though the conversation was more upsetting for her than it was for Peter.

"Late. Why?"

She smiled at the boy.

"Because I'm not done spending time with him."

Stark couldn't help but smile at Peter's happy expression at the words. She had that little kid wrapped around her finger, already, clearly.

"I'm going to show him my workroom, today, after breakfast, and if it stops raining I'll take the suit out for a spin so he can see how the expert does it."

"I'm an expert," Sam protested, winking at Peter. "Right, Pete?"

The boy smiled. Sam had been going all out the day before when he'd shown Peter his flying skills, and it had been incredible.

"Yeah."

"Rhodes is coming out, today," Steve reminded Tony, in case he'd forgotten. "You could do a mock dogfight."

Peter looked at Tony, hopefully.

The billionaire smiled.

"We could make that happen."