"Wait? What?"

Tony looked at Steve, his expression a mixture of angry and helpless.

"They took Peter from the Tatro's and put him in a new home."

"A group home?"

"No. He's the only one there – for his own good, according to the social worker. He's supposed to be able to have more attention that way."

"That's terrible."

Tony scowled.

"Oh, it gets better," he told the other man. "I had JARVIS check her out. She's a retired teacher living in a swanky neighborhood."

"Teachers don't make that much," Natasha said, suspiciously. "How is she managing that?"

"She has a wealthy uncle that died, recently, and she was in the will. Probably why she retired."

"I don't see how this is a bad thing," Rhodes admitted. "She's a retired teacher, so she'll understand why Peter's education is so important, and he'll be the only kid in the place. Sounds like it's a good placing for him."

"Only the woman has already informed me that she isn't going to allow Peter to see me after school, anymore," Tony replied, scowling, even though Rhodey was right and it would be a good placing for the boy. Except that it wasn't. "And," he added. "She doesn't care for the avengers as a role model for a little boy, and won't allow him out to see the rest of you, either."

"Bullshit," Sam said, scowling. "Who does she think she is? Telling us that we can't see-"

"The state says that it's up to her," Tony interrupted. "Pepper looked into it."

Romanoff frowned.

"What else?" she asked Tony, knowing that he knew something, still, that he hadn't told them. Basically the other shoe waiting to fall, so to speak. "She has to have a reason for that kind of thinking."

"She's distantly related to Justin Hammer, who – as you all know – is currently in a state of disgrace. She almost certainly blames me – and Rhodey, here."

"And – vicariously – the rest of us," Steve said.

"That would be my assumption," Stark agreed.

"That isn't acceptable," Natasha said. "We're supposed to be doing Thanksgiving with him."

Tony nodded.

"I know. But there's nothing I can say or do about it. The foster homes aren't autonomous, but they have a lot of say in the lives of the children placed with them. I don't know if she's just taking it out on Peter that she doesn't like us, or if it's that she really thinks it's in his best interest to keep him away, but either way, I'm not sure what to do. He might even like it, there. I don't know."

"You haven't talked to him?"

"He can't come to my office after work, and obviously, I can't stalk him at his school." He frowned. "I was hoping to talk to him, overnight, using the network and the tablet that I gave him, but he hasn't been on for three nights, now. JARVIS has been watching for him."

Romanoff's eyes glittered almost dangerously.

"We're certain that he's alright?"

"JARVIS has pulled up video of him going to school and coming home. She drives him to and from, and then – so far – he hasn't seemed to leave the house. She doesn't have security cameras in her home, so JARVIS can't hack them and see what he's up to."

Meaning that he'd already considered that.

"What's her name?" Natasha asked.

"You can't kill her," Tony told her, quickly.

The assassin rolled her eyes.

"Her name, Tony."

"Chelsea Marples."

Steve looked at Romanoff.

"He's right; you can't kill her."

"I'm not going to," she assured them, not at all offended by their automatic assumptions. "But I'll do a wellness check with Peter, and get back to you and let you know what I find out."

OOOOOOOOO

It was late, and the house was dark. Including the little room on the second floor.

Peter was sitting on his bed when he heard the noise. Just the faintest of sounds, but it practically echoed in his head in the stillness around him. He looked up from the book that he'd been browsing through, and was shocked to see Natasha Romanoff's face looking at him through the one window in his bedroom. He gasped, and saw he put her finger over her lips, silencing him before he could say anything.

The little boy set the book aside and hopped lightly out of the bed and silently crossed the floor, opening the window.

"Natasha!"

It was a stage whisper, but she shushed him, even as she carefully let herself into the bedroom through the window, moving so silently that even Peter didn't hear anything but the faintest rustling of clothing. He watched her, impatiently, until she was finally standing in front of him, and then he threw himself into her arms with a muffled noise of happiness.

"Are you here to rescue me?" he asked, softly, as she hugged him close and pressed a kiss against his ear.

The woman pulled back, looking down at him in the very faint light given off from a streetlight a block away.

"I'm here to check on you," she told him, studying him for any sign of abuse. "Tony's beside himself with worry since he hasn't heard from you – even at night – and the rest of us miss you."

"Miss Marples won't let me go to Tony's after school, anymore," Peter told her, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "She says he's a bad person, and she doesn't want me corrupted by him – or you and the others. She took my tablet, too – and my cell phone. She says I'm too young to have a phone, and that the tablet is too expensive and I'll just break it. She's keeping it safe for me."

Even whispering Natasha could hear how upset Peter was, and knew it had been rough, despite the fact that the room she was standing in was nearly appointed, with a bed, a dresser, and even a TV on the wall. He was clean, there were no indications that he'd been physically harmed, and the pajamas he was wearing looked to be new – but they weren't the Ironman ones that Tony had been so proud of.

"What else?"

"She won't let me stay up at night. I have to keep my light off – so I can sleep, she says."

"You were reading."

"I can see in the dark. But I can't watch TV, or use the computer, or do anything, and I'm not allowed out of bed after bedtime and until it's time to get up." He looked mournfully at her. "And my watch is missing."

"Your father's watch?"

He nodded, and now the tears that had been threatening began to truly fall.

"I had it before the cleaning people came, but it was gone when I looked for it, later. I told Miss Marples, but she said I must have just lost it and I should have done a better job of keeping track of my things."

The little boy sobbed, and Natasha held him, close, comforting him for a long time.

"Hang in there, baby," she told him. "We're going to figure this thing out, okay…?"

He nodded, but he didn't relax in her embrace for a long time, and it was getting very close to dawn before she finally put him to bed and snuck back out the window.