They were in the middle of a quick conversation about tests that Rhodey planned to run when he was out at the compound when Steve and Natasha both got the distracted looks that they wore when someone was talking in the communication buds in their ears. A moment later, both were frowning twin looks of concern.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"What's up?" he asked Steve, as Natasha headed, wordlessly, to the door and left.

"Security just saw a little kid running across the field and out into the woods."

"A little kid?" Clint echoed. "Peter?"

"He's the only little kid we have, right? Nat's going to check it out."

"Where's Tony?"

"In his workshop, last anyone knew." He stood up. "But I'm going to go check that out…"

OOOOOOOO

"Do you believe me, now?"

Stark scowled.

"Run it, again."

"It's a waste of time. An eight year old couldn't hack me. I-"

"JARVIS, just do what you're told."

"Security just reported a small figure running across the field into the woods," the AI told him, suddenly. "Agent Romanoff has responded."

"What? What kind of small figure?"

"Cameras show a small child in a blue sweatshirt."

Tony scowled, again, and got to his feet.

"That little…" his voice was annoyed, and his expression thunderous. "I told him to go pack his shit, I didn't tell him to go for a run in the rain. Now I have to go-"

"Steve Rogers is at the door."

"Tony?"

The door to the workshop locked, automatically, when Stark was in it. It kept people from interrupting him when he was in the groove and didn't want to be bothered. At the moment, though, the door was broken, but Tony didn't realize it until he moved to open it and saw the wood frame was slightly separated from the rest of the door. Frowning, and wondering how he hadn't seen that, before, he didn't have a chance to think about it, further, because it was opening and a worried looking Steve Rogers was suddenly looming in his doorway.

"Hey." Stark was already reaching for his glasses. "I don't have time to talk," he told Steve. "Apparently I have to go track down an eight-year-old menace."

Steve had no trouble recognizing the anger in the words and tone.

"Nat went to get him. What's going on?"

OOOOOOOOOO

She was soaked by the time she found him, even using the impressive tech that security had available. The woods around the compound were dotted with cameras to keep track of anyone who might think it was exciting (or smart) to try and sneak up on the place, but they weren't everywhere, and didn't see everything. Romanoff shivered, slightly, and heard a stifled sob coming from her left. Turning that way, she found what (or who) she was looking for.

A small form huddled at the base of one of the trees, crying as if the world had suddenly ended.

The assassin made a soft noise and went over and knelt down beside him.

"Peter…?"

He either didn't hear her, or he ignored her. Either was possible, considering the sobs that were shaking his little body. Natasha reached a hand out and put it on his back. His sweatshirt was soaking wet, and a she could feel just how chilled it was. It couldn't be doing much to keep him warm. She felt him tense, just a little, at her touch, and he tightened himself into even more of a ball, if it was possible.

"Peter…?" she repeated. "Honey, what's wrong?"

There was a muffled reply, but it was strangled by his crying and the fabric his face was pressed against, somewhere near his arms.

Natasha finally just picked him up and settled herself into the little space he'd been in. She gathered him against her, trying to shield him from the driving rain, and then frowned when she realized she was seeing blood on the front of the sweatshirt. It made her push him back, just enough that she could see his face. His eyes were swollen and red from crying, his face was swollen and wet from rain and tears, and there was a cut on his lower lip that was bleeding, freely, and a mark just under it.

"What happened?" she asked, frowning.

There was no way Stark had hit him, so he must have hit a tree, or something, she determined, using her sleeve to wipe away some of the blood that the rain hadn't rinsed.

"He hates me," Peter said, hiccupping and burying his face against her neck, a new spate of tears overwhelming him.

"He doesn't hate you…" She wasn't going to stay out in the rain. She could feel him trembling in her embrace, and while some of it might be from the tears and sobs, it was too cold to be so wet. "Come on, baby," she crooned, pressing her lips against his cold cheek. "Let's get you inside and dried off."

"Tony found out I know JARVIS," Peter told her, brokenly, not arguing when she picked him up and started back to the compound building. "He got mad at him, and me."

"You know Tony's AI?" she asked. "How?"

"I hacked him a long time ago, trying to figure out a way to meet Tony." He shivered, and she tightened her hold on him, pulling up the hood, despite it being just as wet as everything else he was wearing. "I needed to talk to him, but he kept telling me to go away…"

"Yeah, he doesn't like strangers."

"He doesn't like me, either," Peter told her, lowering his head, again, and sniffing, woefully.

"Sure he does."

"He told me to go pack, because he's going to take me home." Peter's voice was muffled. "Now he hates me, and I really do like him – and not just because I want him to teach me how to be a superhero."

She crooned to him, trying to comfort him as he began sobbing, again. She'd broken free of the trees and saw Clint coming across the field to meet them. He was wearing a rain jacket, but took it off and covered Peter with it as soon as he was close enough.

"Is he alright?" he asked Natasha.

"He's freezing," she told the archer. "And he hit his face. Have one of the medics meet us in the lounge."

She didn't have a hand free to relay the message, herself.

"I'll tell Tony to meet us there, too."

Romanoff shook her head, scowling.

"No. He can stay wherever he is."

She was going to have enough trouble getting Peter calmed down enough to try and explain all of it, again. The last thing she needed was Tony Stark underfoot, as well. Especially if he was being a dick.

OOOOOOOO

"So, turns out he's been playing me this whole time," Tony said, furiously.

Steve frowned.

"Playing you? Tony, he's eight."

"People keep saying that to me. Like that means anything. He's brilliant. You don't get it, because you can't see his genius. He's-" He stopped when Steve's face got that distracted look that said he was being told something in his ear. "What?"

"Nothing. Nat found him and is bringing him back to the compound."

"Good. Tell her to help him get his things together so I can take him home."

"Stop being so dramatic. She's going to have a medic take a look at him."

The fury in his expression cracked for just a moment.

"A doctor? Why?"

"Hit his face, from what I hear. And he's cold and wet." The blonde man raised his troubled gaze toward his friend. "She says she doesn't want you anywhere near him, right now."

Stark reacted predictably to that.

"Since when does she give the orders around here?" he asked, starting to get to his feet. "He's my responsibility. I need to make sure he's alright."

Rogers didn't have any trouble catching Tony's arm and stopping him.

"She'll make sure he's alright. You're far too angry with him to be anywhere near him, right now."

The billionaire tried to free himself, but Steve was a lot stronger than he was.

"Let me go."

"Why would Peter want to hack your AI?"

"He didn't hack me," JARVIS told them, both. "He tried and I caught him. And then asked him that question, myself, to ascertain his motivations."

Tony frowned.

"And…?"

"And he wanted some help from you, but couldn't figure out how to ask without freezing. So I helped him."

"Help with what?" Steve asked, curiously. "How to pass that test that he passed?"

Tony shook his head.

"That wasn't that tricky."

"Correct," JARVIS agreed. "That is not what he needs assistance with."

"Then what?" Tony asked.

"I promised not to tell."

"What?"

"I wanted to know his secret, but he wouldn't tell me unless I promised not to divulge it. I have not been given permission from him to tell you."

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Steve snorted.

"Your AI is keeping secrets, Tony. Congratulations, it's as stubborn as you are."

"It isn't funny, Steve." Now he was more curious than angry. "What could he possibly be keeping secret that he doesn't want anyone to know?"

"He's not your kid, is he?" Rogers asked, suddenly. "I mean… he's insanely smart and so are you, and I suppose if you squint really hard, there could be a resemblance…"

"No. He isn't mine."

"You're sure? I know you had that reckless phase you went through. Lord only knows how many kids you could have out-"

"He isn't related to me, Steve. I checked him out. I'd have found the connection."

"You checked?" Steve asked. "Or JARVIS checked?"

Stark's eyes narrowed.

"JARVIS checked."

"He isn't yours," JARVIS said. A display came on, and two separate driver's licenses came up; one for Mary Parker, and one for Richard Parker. Tony studied the man, carefully – and the woman, for that matter. He didn't recognize her, and didn't have to squint at all to see a resemblance between the man and the boy that he'd been working with for the last couple of months. "Peter's assumed conception date puts his mother in France – with his father. That same date range has you here in the states."

Tony made an annoyed sound.

"Then what's the secret?"

"I'm not telling you."

"JARVIS… this isn't funny, anymore."

"It never was funny, sir. Peter is a sensitive child who needs handled with care and love. Your handling of this situation has jeopardized your relationship with him, and he may not tell you, now, or seek your assistance."

"My handling of the situation…?" A vein popped out on Tony's forehead. "Are you out of your quantum fiber mind? I didn't do anything wrong. I'm the victim of some kind of crazy scheme cooked up between you and an eight year old."

"Incorrect. You're the victim of a scheme that I cooked up – as you put it – and brought the eight year old along with. Peter knows nothing of any of this, save that he needs help and I promised him I would help him get that assistance."

"I'm not helping him," Tony said, stubbornly, arms crossing over his chest.

"I'm not asking you to," JARVIS told him. "He has other resources, now. Perhaps someone else would be better suited to nurture and guide him."