There was a plant on Tony's workstation, and while he waited for the inevitable, it mocked him, with its droopy leaves and its melancholy attitude, with its very presence down in Tony's workshop in the Avenger's Compound.

The plant only had one job, to stay alive, and it was failing miserably. Dying just to mock him, probably, dying just because Tony was depending on it to stay alive.

Tony blamed the pregnancy scare.

He wouldn't even have a plant to worry about if Pepper's period hadn't been late, or if the test would have come back positive, or if he hadn't barged into Pepper's office days after the stick turned red, with wild dreams of actually, one day, becoming a father.

"You don't want a kid," Pepper had told him, before returning her stare back down on the tablet in front of her.

"No, see," said Tony. "I didn't want one, when you thought you might be pregnant, but now that we know you're not – I just got to thinking about it, and a kid – well, a kid sounds like a great idea."

Pepper had tilted her head at him, paused a few beats, before her eyes flickered back and forth between him and the spikey, green plant that sat inside a brown pot on her desk. She stood, picked it up, then pushed it into his hands.

"Here, take this plant," she had told him. "If it's still alive in two weeks, we'll talk about a baby, but for now, please leave." She kissed his cheek. "You're distracting me, and I have a busy day."

That'd been three days ago, and with the way it was looking now, Tony doubted it'd make it through the week. A stupid, lifeless, plant. He wanted to swipe it off his workstation and down into the garbage can below, but he resisted.

Instead, he forced his eyes back to his computer screen, where the Compound's security footage was pulled up. He watched the inevitable, the teenage terror known as Peter Parker, creep through the hallways.

He did his best to keep his footwork light. He paused when halls came to an end. He peaked around corners, careful not to be seen. It made Tony feel kind of bad. He was trying so hard, and Tony was about to crush his efforts into the ground.

Tony shifted his attention to a second screen, where more surveillance footage played. He watched Peter walk towards a rickety fence in the middle of the woods, the same one that surrounded the Hydra house of horrors. Peter helped a bunny out of some plastic and gently placed him on the other side of the fence.

Tony paused it. He rewound, played it again, and tried to reconcile that boy to the one who was currently sneaking through the halls.

It'd been a week since the rescue, since they yanked him out of Hydra hell, and it'd been nothing but drama ever since.

Tony supposed he should've expected that, from the very first night, Peter wasn't going to make this easy, for himself, or for the Avengers.

Peter's legs had been visibly wobbly as when they had stepped off the jet, after the flight from the Hydra manor, so wobbly Tony offered his help and was flatly refused, with a glare and with a comment with so much bite it was as if Tony had spoken the words.

He had looked small. Just a frightened child in his pajamas and tennis shoes, shaking and being led to a small conference room on the Compound's first floor. They had asked him questions he refused to answer. They gave him food he refused to eat. That first night, they had given up and let the boy go to sleep, after assigning him a bedroom in Steve's suite.

The situation hadn't improved with sleep, though.

Peter's hunger strike, for instance, persisted the next couple of days, until Steve gave in and let him drink nutrient shakes instead of eating meals.

Escape attempts became a regular occurrence. There weren't any locks on Peter's door, or Steve's suite, but the Tower's security was smarter than locks. His movements were monitored, and there was always an Avenger assigned to watch out for him, assigned to take him back to bed, even if that meant shooting him with a tranquilizer and carrying him there.

Soon, Peter figured out he wasn't going anywhere fast, and switched up his tactics. He snuck out of his room only to explore the Compound, but he still tried escaping, in less obvious ways.

Steve came down with a mysterious bout of food poisoning that left him with his head in the toilet, puking for hours, so he quit leaving his food unattended. Washing his hair left him itching at his scalp, so he locked his toiletries up in a cabinet. Items went missing, only to turn up later in random places, and the Avengers, mostly Steve, were tired.

It was sort of like living with an angry ghost, except that ghost was a real, breathing teenager out to make their lives as miserable as possible. A ghost who was opening the door to Tony's workshop, and stepping inside, unaware that he could be seen.

Tony cleared his throat, loudly, and Peter jumped. He froze in place, his shoulders drooping down and his face falling. He took a couple of hesitant steps backwards while maintaining eye contact, then angled his body towards the door where he came, as if Tony planned on just letting him walk away.

"Hey," said Tony. "Hold it."

Peter stopped, turned back around, listened. He might have been a terror, but at least he was an obedient one. Tony couldn't figure out if it made him feel grateful or uneasy.

"Come over here."

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pajamas pants and shuffled across the floor with his head down, eventually sliding onto the stool next to Tony.

"Wanna explain why you're trying to sneak into my workshop?"

Peter shrugged, folded his arms together, rested them on the workstation, and stared straight ahead at the plant, seemingly determined not to look Tony's way.

"Well it was a stupid thing to do," Tony told him. "The only person who sleeps less than you around here is me."

"Your plant's dying," said Peter. "I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It needs sunlight to survive, and there aren't even any windows down here." Finally, he made eye-contact, then tilted his head at him. "Are you even watering it?"

"Uh excuse me, I am a genius," said Tony, with a snap, realizing too late that it was a bit ridiculous to be offended by something an angry teenager said. "Are you really lecturing me about my plant?"

"Maybe you shouldn't have one if you can't take care of it."

"Uh huh," said Tony. He reached his arm down under the desk and found the two bottles of chemicals he'd put there earlier. He placed both in front of Peter, who grew a little pale. "That's what you're after, then? More ingredients to poison Steve's food with?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Can't fool me, kid, so do yourself a favor and knock it off. Give Steve a break, okay? Quit messing with his stuff."

Peter looked away from him, back at the plant on the desk. He went quiet and became still, leaving Tony to only wonder and guess at what he was thinking. The thing about Peter was that he wasn't that hard to figure, wasn't hard to look past what he chose to show other people and see that he was still just that scared child on a plane.

Just a kid who believe, with his whole heart and soul that Tony and the Avengers were the bad guys, and he'd been kidnapped.

"I know you don't actually want to hurt anyone; you would've done it by now," said Tony. "Just know that these tricks aren't helping you go anywhere. We're not gonna get scared off by these games."

"I won't do it again," said Peter, his voice soft. Tony would've almost believed it was sincere if it hadn't been followed by a question. "Have you heard anything? About my dad?"

"Nope. Not yet."

Maybe, someday, Tony would be able to tell this kid the truth, but today wasn't that day. All his questions, about why he was taken, what was happening with Hydra, what was happening with Richard, would have to go unanswered, at least for now.

It was just as well. Tony suspected Peter wasn't really ready to hear the truth, and probably wouldn't believe it if they told him.

"Okay, well," said Tony. "It's late. Let's get you back to bed."

"No, wait," said Peter. Tony paused, one foot on the ground and the other on the base of the stool. "I just thought – you know, maybe I can help you… with whatever it is you're doing."

Tony considered him, studied him with a look that made Peter start fidgeting, until he swiped his brown hair off his forehead and broke the silence.

"It's just really… loud, in my head. I can't really fall asleep."

Probably, it was the first honest sentence Peter had spoken since coming live at the compound. It'd be counterproductive to let it go unrewarded, so Tony handed him a wrench, and they got to work.

Steve was the next person to wander into Tony's workshop uninvited.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was unkempt, sticking straight up and in wild directions. He moved slow, like a zombie, and he groaned like one when he saw Peter Parker passed out on the floor, with a wrench still locked tighter between his fingers.

"I set an alarm," said Steve, his voice raspy. "It was supposed to wake me up if he left his room."

"He disabled it."

The reply came quick, and even if Tony didn't know for sure if it was true, he believed it was. Having his help in the workshop the last couple of hours had clued him in. Peter incredibly intelligent, more so than they originally thought.

"Turns out Banner and I aren't the only resident geniuses around here anymore."

"That's… troubling," said Steve, scratching his head.

"Not more troubling than where he came from."

Steve nodded his head in agreement and took a seat on the same stool Peter had been using earlier. He yawned, covering his face with his hand, as he looked down at Peter fast asleep on the floor.

"I'm dropping him off at the raft tomorrow," said Steve, only elaborating when Tony nearly snapped his neck with a sudden turn to raise an eyebrow at him. "Just temporarily, I was hoping he'd settle down by now, before we have to go and finish this, but he's- "

"-Not settled."

"Yeah," said Steve. "And dangerous, if there's no one around to check his strength."

"The raft isn't a daycare, Cap."

"I don't like it either. But what else can we do?"

Tony watched as Peter's chest moved up and down, slow and steady and peaceful, at least in his sleep. He looked smaller, younger, less like a terror and more like someone who'd be terrorized. The raft wasn't an option for him. Putting the kid in a high security prison was no way to win his trust, to prove to Peter that they weren't the bad guys here.

"I'll stay behind this time," said Tony. "I'll watch him."

"Tony," said Steve. "We need everyone on this."

"You don't really. The one threat we were worried about has been removed from the situation."

And was an actual child.

That part remained unspoken but echoed around in the room anyway.

When they'd intercepted the message that a new weapon was being transferred to the very Hydra base they were looking to raid, it'd almost ruined their plans. Almost. They intercepted more messages, and with each one, they learned more, like the weapon wasn't really a weapon, but a boy.

A boy the Avengers resolved to remove from the equation before he ever step foot inside the base, for two reasons.

The first was to save an innocent kid from being turned into the Winter Solider 2.0, and the second was even simpler. They needed him out of the crossfire. Nobody wanted to fight a kid, or hurt one, if it came to that, and at the time, they didn't have a clear understanding about his powers.

Oftentimes Tony wondered if even Peter had a clear understanding of his powers, if he even knew his own strength, or if he'd been so beaten down he was holding something back.

"Richard sure did a number on his boy, didn't he?" asked Steve.

"That's not even the worst part," said Tony. Steve met his eyes. "The worst part is when he realizes what's happened. How it was supposed to be."

The image of Peter flinching instead of fighting back became clear in Tony's mind. He didn't think he'd ever forget, as it was colored with guilt and filled with callbacks to all the times Tony had flinched.

"I guess you'll have to stay behind."

Tony nodded. It was the obvious solution, and clear to Tony just like not putting locks on the door had been clear. The boy was already wounded, nobody wanted to make the damage any worse than it already was.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," said Tony. "Mind carrying him up to the suite?"

Steve gently pulled him up off the floor by one arm and slung him over his shoulder. To both their shock, Peter stayed asleep, only making a few inaudible noises.

Tony grabbed the plant on his desk, before him and Steve left the workshop and took the elevator up to Tony's suite.

Sun streamed in through the full windows that lined the wall of Tony's living room, the first clue for him about how long he and Peter had been working. He ditched the plant on the floor, right beside the window-wall, hoping it wasn't too late to save his plant and the bet with Pepper, while Steve gently put Peter on the couch.

He made a few more noises, shifted around a little bit, but ultimately, stayed asleep.

"Good luck, Tony."

"Yeah, you too. Don't get killed."

As Steve disappeared into the elevator, Tony wondered which of them had the hardest job. Steve, leading the Avenger's into a Hydra base, or Tony, left to watch over a disgruntled, super-powered teenager.

Tony unfolded a blanket and tossed it across the boy on his couch. He could do this, he told himself, he could definitely do this. Maybe he'd be better at taking care of a teenager than he was taking care of a plant.

"Alright, that's enough."

Tony stood in front of the couch, where Peter was still sleeping, even hours later and well into the afternoon, and Tony had had enough. It wasn't fair. If Tony had to be awake after an all-nighter, so did the kid. Hell, he didn't know, maybe waking him up would help him sleep at night.

Peter didn't wake, though. It was as if Tony hadn't said anything at all.

"Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty," said Tony, making his voice louder, and that time, nudging on his shoulder.

Peter groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

"Come on, kid, time to get up."

"Go away," mumbled Peter, rolling over on his stomach, and burying his face into the couch cushion.

Tony withdrew his hand and went away. He returned seconds later with a red plastic water gun Clint's own little terrors had left lying around the last time they visited. He sat on the coffee table, got comfortable, then pointed the gun at the back of Peter's head and pulled the trigger, over and over again, until Peter gave another muffled groan and sat up.

Peter glared at him. Tony shot water onto his face.

"Hey," said Peter, wiping his face clean. "Stop doing that!"

"Oh, you're awake," said Tony. "Good."

"Why do you even have that? What, are you four?"

"According to my fiancée."

Peter made a noise of disgust, and while he didn't go back to lying down, he did cover himself completely with the throw blanket, using it as some sort of shield against Tony and his water pistol. He looked around the suite, taking in his surroundings, before looking at Tony.

"This isn't Steve's suite."

"Nope," said Tony. "Much better taste, right? Steve's a bit dated, stuck in the past and all that."

Peter blinked at him, stared blankly, and waited for him to keep going.

"You're gonna be staying with me for a couple of days."

"Steve's tired of me?"

"Uh, no. He's going on a mission."

"Is it about Hydra?" asked Peter. "Are you arresting my dad?"

"Sorry, it's classified," said Tony, deciding to move on before Peter had a chance to ask any more questions. "What's not classified are my rules. One, if you mess with my food, I'm replacing your gross protein powder with asbestos."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Try me." Tony sprayed Peter in the face with the water gun twice, causing the boy to lunge forward and attempt to grab the gun. He fell back into the couch cushions with a single, gentle, push from Tony. "Two, my water gun, not yours."

Peter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Tony wanted to give him a cookie for his normal teenager behavior. That was, if Peter was actually normal and would actually eat food that wasn't liquid and made out of powder.

"And three," said Tony. He extended his arm out and pointed the gun at the plant sunbathing in the window. "You're responsible for keeping the plant alive."

"You almost kill your plant and it's my job to keep it alive?"

"Yep. You clearly care about it more than I do, I think you'd do a better job taking care of it."

"I care?"

"Yeah."

Peter's face twitched several times and descended into what Tony assumed his own face looked like when he was trying to work out a tricky equation in the lab with Bruce. Only a couple of hours with the kid, and he'd already broken him. He had no idea what he said wrong, or how to fix it, and just started his spiral into regret about waking him up via water gun when Peter snapped out of it.

"I - I can handle that," said Peter. His voice was quieter, with less of an edge. "Have you given it any water yet?"

"Nope."

"I'll start there."

Tony sat on the coffee table while Peter got up and walked into the kitchen, where he searched for a cup and once he found one, filled it with water. Sun light was in Peter's hair as he kneeled down by the dying plant, carefully pouring water into the dirt it was rooted in, and Tony caught glimpse of the real Peter Parker.

He wasn't an angry ghost, or a frightened, flinching child, but quiet, gentle strength, the kind that helped rabbits and took care of plants. In a lot of ways, Peter, the real Peter, was better than Tony, better than most the Avengers, and Tony wondered how long it'd take to for all of Peter's pretending to wash away, for him realize what it was that separated him from his father.