Once again, a huge thank you for all of the kind reviews! We're getting more divergent from canon now. ;)

And as always, a big thanks to stjohn27, my wonderful prereader and sounding board. :)

Pepper hadn't been joking when she'd said Sam was preparing a feast for the returning heroes. As soon as Peter was calmed down enough from his nightmare and cleaned up, he and Tony walked down to the kitchen to find that Sam had laid out enough food to feed a small army.

"Damn," Tony said, nodding in appreciation as his stomach growled. When was the last time he'd eaten anything? "Expecting company, are we, Sam?"

"Well, you know," Sam said with a grin, admiring the spread set out along the huge dining table. "Steve and Thor usually each eat enough for three people, and I'm hoping now that you're back we can convince that kid there to eat more than the bare minimum required for survival, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point," Tony said, squeezing Peter's shoulder. He jerked his head towards the table. "C'mon, Pete. Let's get you situated."

Peter and Tony were still filling their plates when the rest of the crew started wandering in, led by Steve and Natasha. Peter jumped at the sight of Vision, managing to drop his fork onto the floor, which Vision then bent down to retrieve.

"Here you are, Peter," the android said kindly, handing Peter the fork. "It is nice to meet you."

Peter bit his lip, his eyes quickly flicking to Tony for assurance as he took the fork from Vision's burgundy hand. "Uh huh. Th—, thank you M—, Mr. V—, Vision."

"You have no need to fear me, Peter," said Vision. "I mean you no harm. I hope you can grow to understand that."

"Kid's just a bit jumpy," Tony said to Vision. "Don't take it personal."

"I'm not sure that's even possible," answered Vision, a rather perplexed look on his face. "But nevertheless, I do understand."

"Peter, son of Stark!" Thor exclaimed once he was seated next to Bruce, two heaping plates of lasagna, garlic bread, and steamed vegetables set in front of him. He picked up his glass of beer and raised it. "I offer you a toast! For our victory against the demon Ultron would have come at a far greater cost to life and limb had you not performed so admirably during this crisis."

Peter immediately ducked his head, his face flushing as red as the tomatoes Sam used to make the lasagna. "Oh, you don't have to—"

"Thor's right, Peter," Steve said, smiling from across the table. "Ultron's plan was to use that city in Sokovia to destroy the world. By deactivating his drones, you saved potentially millions of lives. We all owe you our thanks."

"I just…" Peter stammered, his eyes firmly trained on the table in front of him. "I only wanted to help."

"Sure. He calls taking out Ultron's entire army, helping," said Rhodey, winking as he raised his water glass. "To Peter!"

As a chorus of, "to Peter" echoed across the table, Tony leaned over to whisper in his ear, smiling so wide his face hurt. "That's my boy."

"Thanks, Dad," Peter whispered back.

As usual, Thor dominated most of the meal conversation, regaling the group with stories about the many battles he'd fought across the Realms with the armies of Asgard. Tony had to stifle a chuckle when he noticed Bruce almost nodding off into his plate during one particularly long story. Bruce had told Tony a couple of times that Thor would often tell Bruce tales of Asgard during his de-Hulking periods that followed their HYDRA raids. Bruce had likened them to boring the Hulk out of him, as they often were nothing more than Thor bragging about his vast capabilities as a warrior.

Nearly an hour later, once everyone had finished eating and Sam was busy roping Happy into helping with the dishes, Thor got up from his chair, tapping Tony and Steve on the shoulders.

"We must speak," Thor said, looking far more serious than he had only moments ago. "In private. Walk with me."

Tony noticed Peter's shoulders stiffen beside him, and he patted his back. He was always a bit extra clingy with Tony after a mission. "Okay if Pete listens in?"

"Yes, that is fine," Thor said, smiling at Peter. "In fact, I wish it."

"Cool," said Tony. He stood up from his chair, his hand finding its usual place on Peter's shoulder as the four of them proceeded down the hallway, passing the labs and the media room and heading outside to the vast front yard. It was an unusually warm day for November in upstate New York.

"You know, Thor," Steve started. "I'm thinking it shouldn't quite count that Vision could lift that hammer of yours."

"You know, that's true," Tony added. "He's artificial intelligence, so not quite the same as us."

"Vision picked up Thor's hammer?" asked Peter with wide eyes. "Whoa! I thought that was impossible!"

"The Vision not only picked up Mjølnir, young Starkson," Thor answered. "He did in fact wield it. As only I could do before."

"Meaning Vision smashed the hell outta one of the drones before you shut 'em down, Pete," Tony interjected. "But still, Cap's right. It shouldn't count."

"I mean, if you put the hammer in an elevator, it would still go up," Steve said. "Is an elevator considered worthy?"

"And another good point made by the Captain," said Tony. "Watch out folks, he's on a roll!"

"Nevertheless," Thor said. "If he can wield the hammer, he can keep the Mind Stone. It is safe with the Vision. And in these days, safe is in short supply."

"Eh, eh, eh," Tony said, grimacing as he shot a quick glance down at Peter. "Maybe let's not phrase it quite like that, yeah?"

Thor winced, stammering as he tried to smile at Peter. "Oh, well… what I meant was—"

"What exactly is the Mind Stone?" Peter asked. "FRIDAY told me that it made up part of Vision, but where did it come from?"

"It was housed inside the gem located on Loki's scepter, young Starkson," answered Thor. "And since it is the fourth of the Infinity Stones to make an appearance in the last few years, I refuse to believe that it is merely a coincidence."

"Fourth?" asked Steve. "What are the others?"

"The Power Stone was discovered when Ronan the Accuser, one of the Kree race, stole an Orb from a group of marauders out in space known as the Ravagers. After a prolonged battle, the Power Stone is now being safely housed with the Nova Corps on the planet of Xandar."

"Okay, let me just stop you there," Tony said, raising his hand. "You still sure all this is okay for the kid to hear?"

Thor raised an eyebrow. "Legends of the power of the Infinity Stones are routine bedtime stories for children on Asgard," he said. "Do you not tell your children bedtime stories here on Earth?"

"Well… yeah," answered Tony. "But ours usually involve fluffy bears or fluffy rabbits or other fluffy… somethings."

"It's all right, Dad," Peter said, even as he gripped Tony's arm. "I'm okay."

"Why would you tell your children stories about fluffy rabbits?" Thor asked, confused. "Actually, what exactly is a rabbit?"

"Nevermind that now," Steve said. "You said this Power Stone is being kept somewhere?"

"Yes, on the planet of Xandar," Thor said. "I was told this information when I traveled to the Water of Sight to seek my vision."

"Okay, so where are the rest of these… Infinity Stones?" asked Steve.

"The Reality Stone is the second, which is being stored with the being known as the Collector, on Knowhere," said Thor. "It was the main power used by the Dark Elf Malekith during his recent attack on this planet."

"That's the one that was in the Aether, right?" Peter asked. "The one that caused all the problems with the Convergence?"

"That is correct, young Peter. The third is the Space Stone, housed inside the Tesseract, which is currently stored in my father's vault on Asgard."

"And the fourth is smack dab in the middle of Vision's forehead," muttered Tony. "Hmm. How many of these things are there?"

"There are six in total," Thor answered. "And that is why I must depart, return to Asgard. Someone out there is playing an intricate game and is making pawns of us, much like young Starkson here enjoys making a pawn of me whenever we play chess together."

"But what does all that mean?" Peter asked, his voice growing in pitch with each word. Tony was regretting more and more allowing him to listen to this conversation, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"It means—"

"It means that Thor's gonna figure out what's going on, and let us know as soon as he does," Tony said firmly, glaring at Thor. "Isn't that right, Thor?"

"Uh… yes, Stark," Thor said, clearing his throat. "That is correct."

"So why does that mean that you have to leave?" Peter asked in a small voice. "Can't you do that stuff from here?"

"I'm afraid not, young Starkson. And in fact, Banner has asked to accompany me, and I have granted his request. He will be returning with me to Asgard."

"Bruce?" sputtered Tony. "Why? He hasn't said anything to me about it?"

"He probably just hasn't had the chance, Tony," Steve said. "But I can't say I'm all that surprised. Wanda did hit him pretty hard down in Africa. I can understand if he'd want to get away for a bit."

"She hit a lot of us pretty hard, Rogers!" snapped Tony, pressing his fist to his chest. "But you don't see me running away because of it!"

"Tony!" Steve retorted. "That's not what Bruce is—"

"Dad," Peter interrupted softly, tugging on Tony's arm. "I don't think Bruce is running away. I think… he just doesn't want people to be scared of him anymore. You can understand that, can't you?"

Tony shook his head, shame washing over him like a tidal wave. Leave it to the boy genius to put things into perspective. That fight he'd had against the mind-controlled Hulk down in Johannesburg had taken a lot out of Bruce, so much that he had refused to join in the final battle against Ultron unless there had been absolutely no other choice. And since Peter had been able to deactivate the drones before too much damage had been done, the Hulk hadn't been needed.

"Yeah, yeah, Pete, I guess I can understand it," muttered Tony. "Okay, Thor. Just, take good care of Bruce, yeah? He… kinda means a lot to us here."

"You can be rest assured of that, Stark," Thor said, slapping Tony on the back so hard that his knees buckled. "Banner will be treated like the hero he is while we are on Asgard."

Steve let out a heavy sigh, holding out his hand for Thor to shake. "Well, I hate to lose the both of you, even temporarily. But I do understand. If there is another threat on the horizon, knowing as much as possible about it will definitely be helpful."

"I agree, Captain," answered Thor. "And thank you. Banner and I will be departing for Asgard momentarily."

As Thor departed back down the hall, presumably to look for Bruce, Tony turned to Steve, raising his eyebrow. "Steve—"

"This doesn't have to mean anything beyond what Thor says it means, Tony," Steve said quickly. "He's just going to look for answers for us. Try and think of it as a scouting mission."

"Yeah," Tony said softly. "Sure." He felt Peter's light tug on his arm again, and he wrapped it around the boy's shoulders, hugging him close. This doesn't have to mean that my family is breaking apart. It doesn't. Thor and Bruce are just going on a field trip. Or a scouting mission, like Cap says.

Heavy footsteps on the ground behind him caused Tony to turn, his lips pursing at the guilty look on Bruce's face. "Tony," Bruce said as he approached. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, but I… well, I hope you can understand."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony mumbled, sniffing. "Don't worry, big guy. Your lab will be waiting for you when you come back."

Bruce gave him a slight smile, enveloping both Tony and Peter into a hug. "Thanks. I'm gonna miss you guys."

"You take care, Bruce," Steve said, shaking Bruce's hand. "I'm sure you'll have some interesting stories to tell when you get back."

"That we will," said Thor. Shouldering his hammer, he and Bruce walked over to a flat patch of the manicured lawn. Thor wrapped his arm around Bruce's waist, rather awkwardly it seemed, and raised his hammer. Peter jumped at the loud crack of thunder accompanying the beam of rainbowed light that surrounded Thor and Bruce, forming the bridge between Earth and Asgard.

"Until we meet again, I bid you all farewell," Thor said with a nod. And then, they were gone.

Tony, Peter, and Steve stood silently for several seconds after the rainbow beam had disappeared, Peter's hands still wrapped around Tony's arm. Tony finally looked down, frowning at the large mark now burned into the grass.

"You know, that man has no regard for lawn maintenance," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, do you even think he'd know how to run a lawnmower?"

"Probably not, Dad," said Peter. "But I bet you could show him how to build one."

Chucking, Tony pulled Peter into a hug, rubbing the top of his head with his knuckles. "You're probably right, buddy."

"The boy's got a point, Tony," Steve said with a wide grin. "And I bet it'd be a whole lot easier to use than those old manual push things that people had when I was a kid."

"Yeah, probably," Tony said. He punched Steve lightly on the arm. "Look, Cap… are we… good?"

Steve tilted his head, his cheeky grin fading into a softer smile. "Yeah, Tony. We're good."

Tony inhaled a shaky breath, tightening his grip on Peter for moral support. He'd never been all that great at apologies, but he needed to get this out. "Are ya sure? 'Cause what I said there at Barton's farm, it was outta line, and—"

"You were upset, Tony. It's okay, I understand."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to go see if Sam's not too wiped out from all that cooking to go for a run."

"Yeah, sure," Tony said. "We'll see ya later." Watching the tall, muscular Captain walk back inside the building, Tony raised an eyebrow. "You ever wonder why in the hell people actually enjoy running?" he asked Peter. "I mean… why?"

Peter shrugged, squinting against the sunlight as he looked up at Tony. "I dunno. Running can't be all that bad if so many people like to do it. I mean, I definitely like gymnastics better, but there are a ton of people who like to run. Just look at how popular marathons are. The New York marathon is one of the largest in the world!"

"Mmm, maybe," muttered Tony. "Still, I'd much rather build something than pound my body into the pavement just to chase some elusive 'runner's high'."

"Don't you get a sort of a high when you're flying around in your suit?" Peter asked, a smirk stretching out on his boyish face. "I mean, you're going pretty fast up there when you're at full speed."

"Yeah, maybe," Tony said with a sigh. "Not so much anymore it seems though." He leaned down, kissing the top of Peter's head, catching a whiff of his shampoo at the same time. "C'mon, buddy. Let's… go find somewhere more comfortable where we can talk."

Peter jerked his head back, his brown eyes widening in fear as he shook his head. "No! Dad, please, I don't wanna talk about… that. Do we have to?"

It was on the tip of Tony's tongue to tell him, "no", that they could just go back inside and bum around for the rest of the day, maybe even watch a couple of movies. He absolutely hated that scared puppy look Peter always got whenever Tony asked him about one of his bad dreams. But if that nightmare Peter was in the midst of when Tony got home earlier today was any indication, they needed to talk some of these things through or it would just continue to get worse. Peter needed to start healing, and there was no way he could do that if he thought his birth father had tried to hurt him.

"Yeah, Pete," Tony said softly. "We do."

"But, why?" Peter whined. "You're back now. I'll be okay again."

Tony shook his head, his jaw clenching as he wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you, buddy. I love you so damn much. You know that, right? And if it really was that simple, if just me being home for awhile was enough to help you heal completely, then you know I'd go right along with it. But it's not. There are things that you need to understand first, before you can start that healing process. Okay?" God, now I'm starting to sound like Sam Wilson!

Peter sniffed, nodding against Tony's chest. "I guess. If you say so."

Kissing the top of Peter's head, Tony draped an arm across the boy's shoulders, leading him around the massive main building to the backyard, over to the fire pit where they liked to build bonfires.

"Here, bud," Tony said as he sat down on one of the outdoor lounge chairs, indicating for Peter to sit down next to him. Peter immediately draped his legs across Tony's lap, dropping his head down to rest against Tony's chest.

"I wanna listen to your heartbeat while we talk," Peter whispered. "Is that okay?"

"Course it is, buddy," answered Tony. He threaded his fingers through Peter's thick curls, rubbing his scalp. "You need another haircut, I think. The curls are starting to run wild again."

"Mmm. That's what Pepper said too."

"Well, Pepper's usually right about that stuff." Tony dropped his head back, closing his eyes briefly. How in the hell do I even start a conversation like this?

"Pete," he said a few seconds later. "You told me a few times, way back when you first came to live with me, that you didn't remember your parents very much."

"Yeah," came the response from the depths of Tony's shirt. "They died when I was real little."

"Yeah, you said they died when you were three years old?"

"Uh huh."

"Can you tell me what you do remember?" asked Tony.

"I think my mom had brown hair, like mine," Peter mumbled. "But I don't remember it being curly. I remember her smiling at me, but she didn't smile all that often otherwise."

"Hmm," Tony said. "And… your dad?"

"My dad was tall, and had grey hair, like a grandpa. I remember Uncle Ben telling me once it was because his job was so stressful that it gave him grey hair."

A small grin stretched across Tony's lips. "Did your Uncle Ben tell you anything else about your dad?"

"No," Peter said quickly, almost spitting the word. "Uncle Ben and Aunt May didn't talk about my mom or my dad very much. They had a few pictures of them in their house, but Uncle Ben put them away when I went to live with them."

"Really?" asked Tony. "Do you know why they did that?"

Peter grabbed a handful of Tony's shirt, burrowing in even further. "Ben never told me, but I heard him and May talking about it one night when I couldn't sleep. He said that my dad did something really bad with his work, that he was a traitor, and that's why he and my mom were killed."

Hmm, that's… curious. "Did Ben ever say who told him his brother was a traitor?" Tony asked.

"No," said Peter, shaking his head, wiping his nose across Tony's shirt. "Never."

Tony let out a sigh, tightening his fingers in Peter's hair. "Buddy, your Uncle Ben didn't get the whole story. There was… a bit more to it than that."

"I figured there was, but why does it matter?" Peter asked, his voice laced with bitterness. "They're dead. They've been dead almost ten years. And he—". Peter's voice broke off as he stifled a sob, tightening his grip on Tony's shirt. "He hurt me, Daddy. He let the loud people hurt me, and no one—not even my mom—tried to stop him!"

"Oh God, Peter," Tony murmured, his own throat so thick he could barely get the words out. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through that." Cupping Peter's cheeks, Tony lifted his head, looking into his shiny, baby brown eyes. "But buddy, your dad didn't let those loud men hurt you. He didn't. He didn't know that they did anything to you until afterwards, when it was already too late."

"How do you know?" Peter choked out, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "You weren't there."

"No, buddy, I wasn't," Tony answered. And if I had been, I'd've blasted all their asses into the next dimension. "This all happened years before I even was Iron Man, you know that. But… someone told me. Someone who knew your dad, and knew who the loud men were."

"Mmm. Who's that?"

"Nick Fury. He was the director of SHIELD back when all this happened, so he knew everything that went down."

Peter tilted his head, his eyebrows knitting together. "When did you see him? I thought he was supposed to be playing dead?"

"Well, technically he was," replied Tony. "But I guess not anymore. He's been talking about reforming SHIELD… but that's a discussion for another time, Pete."

"Mmm. I still don't see how this makes any difference, Dad," Peter grumbled as he laid his head down again. "They're still dead."

"Yeah, I know that," Tony said. He paused for a moment, rubbing Peter's scalp, enjoying the way he snuggled even closer. Tony had missed these snuggles. "Do you know what your… birth dad did for a living, Pete?"

"Yeah. Uncle Ben told me he was some sort of scientist."

"He was a geneticist. Who was working for SHIELD. He and his team had been working on their version of the super soldier experiment for a long time when your dad did something… pretty desperate, trying to get the results they were looking for."

"Oh? And what was that?"

"Well… he injected himself with some modified animal DNA. But when nothing happened, Parker just chalked it up to another failure."

"And?" Peter said after a short pause. "I'm gonna guess there's more to it than that."

"Yeah, bud, there is," Tony whispered. He cleared his throat, trying to swallow down the lump there the size of a marble. "Your dad thought it was just another failure because nothing happened to him. But what he didn't count on… was you."

"Me?"

Gulping, Tony nodded. "Apparently whatever your dad shot into himself didn't change him, but when you came along… it wasn't long before one of Parker's colleagues on the project got it into his head to test your DNA. And—"

"And… what?" Peter demanded, lifting his head again. "And what, Dad? Did they find out that I'm some kind of mutant or something?"

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Tony. "And I don't ever wanna hear you say something like that again. Not ever. Do you understand me?"

"Then what?" cried Peter. "What the hell happened?"

"Language, young man," Tony chastised, softening his words with a kiss to Peter's forehead. "Fury told me that this colleague of your dad's, who eventually turned out to be an embedded HYDRA agent, decided to go behind Parker's back and test your DNA. To see if it was… compatible with their research."

Peter's slight body stiffened against Tony's, and he dropped his head back down, pressing his ear tightly against Tony's chest. His next words were so soft that Tony had to strain to hear them.

"The loud men who came in the night."

"Yeah, buddy," Tony said, just as softly. "That was them."

"They hurt me, Daddy," Peter whimpered, his entire body shuddering. "They held me down, and poked me with needles… and I begged them to stop, because it hurt, Daddy, but they didn't, and… I hate needles!"

Tony squeezed his eyes closed, his hands clenching into tight fists. That repulsor blast was far too kind a death for that Doctor List piece of shit. "I know you do, buddy. And I know you begged them to stop. And Fury told me that as soon as your dad found out about what those assholes did to you, he tried to stop them from doing it again."

Peter's lower lip trembled as he shook his head, curls flopping down over his forehead. "But… then why did he leave me? Why did he and my mom dump me off with Ben and May, and just leave?"

"Peter—"

"Nevermind," Peter grumbled. "I know why. 'Cause he was a coward. He'd screwed up, so he was just trying to run away."

"No, Peter," Tony said firmly, nearly choking on the words. "That's not true. Your dad was trying to protect you when he was killed. He was trying to report to his superiors about what had happened to you. He was trying to shut down his research because he'd made a bad mistake that put you in danger." Tony tightened his arms around Peter, so much so that the boy whimpered.

"Dad, you're squishing me!"

"Sorry, bud," Tony said quickly. He loosened his grip, but only slightly. "Your dad was trying to do the right thing by you, Pete. He was trying to right his wrong. He was just… unlucky." Tony sniffed, swiping at his eyes. "Your dad loved you. Just like I do."

"Mmm. If you say so."

"Look," Tony said, huffing out a sharp breath. "I know this is all a lot to take in right now, and I feel pretty rotten piling all this crap on top of you right after that whole scary story with the Infinity Stones and Bruce and Thor leaving and everything. But you needed to know it, Pete. Your father, your birth father, loved you and tried to protect you. And he was killed because of it. He died trying to protect you." Tony shifted on the chair so he could look down into Peter's eyes, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "And if it came down to it, I'd do the same thing. Without hesitation."

Peter shivered, biting down hard on his lower lip. "I don't—, I don't want you to."

"Me either, buddy," Tony said firmly. "But don't you worry. I have no intentions to die anytime soon. I'm afraid you're gonna be stuck with me until I'm a crotchety old man."

Tony could feel Peter's wry grin against his chest. "But… dad—"

"Nope, don't even say it, kid," Tony interrupted as his own grin stretched across his lips. "Don't you even think it, or there'll never be another bucket of peppermint ice cream anywhere to be found in the entire state of New York. Do you understand?"

Peter giggled, and the beautiful sound nearly made Tony burst into tears. "Well… okay. I won't say it, at least. As far as I know, you haven't developed any mind-reading tech yet."

"No, not yet," Tony said. "But… there is a little something that I've been thinking up, whenever I've had a spare moment."

"Something that could read minds?"

"No, not exactly. More like something that can access a person's memories, especially traumatic memories, and then project them."

"Why would someone want to look at their scary memories?" Peter asked with a shiver. "I just want mine to go away!"

"Well, the theory is, if you're able to see the memory again, you'd maybe be able to work through it better," Tony explained. "And then, eventually, try and put it behind you. I don't know; I should probably talk to Sam some more about this first."

"Mmm," Peter mumbled. "What're you gonna call it?"

Tony chuckled. "Binary Augmented Retro-Framing. Otherwise known as—"

"BARF?" asked Peter with another giggle. "You need to work on that acronym, Dad. 'Cause that just sounds gross."

Tony smiled, his body relaxing slightly. "Yeah, probably. You wanna help me with it?"

Peter tilted his head up, swiping at his nose. "Can I?"

"I wouldn't've asked otherwise, smarty pants. But you have to promise me something first."

"What?"

"That if we can get it to work, you'll use it," Tony said gently. "Try and process through these bad memories you have of your birth father. I want you to be healed from that, Pete. It's more than way past the time for you to start healing."

The boy was silent for several heartbeats, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Finally, he nodded. "Uh huh. I promise."

"Thank you, buddy," Tony said, kissing Peter's forehead.

"You're welcome," Peter said with a sigh. "Now, can we please go watch a movie?"

"Sure, bud. You go on and pick something out, I'll be there in a minute."

"Yay!" exclaimed Peter. After a brief hug, Peter pushed himself up off the chair and jogged back over to the main building, disappearing inside. Tony remained outside for a few minutes, his mind swirling with the two rather intense back-to-back discussions he'd just had.

Not to mention the still-lingering memory Tony had of Peter, tortured and bloody and dying in his arms. He had a strong feeling that that wasn't going to go away for a very long time, BARF technology or not. He was also more than a little grateful that he didn't have to look at the Maximoff girl for awhile because of it. When Barton had first broached the idea of having the Maximoff twins go and live with him and his family after Ultron was put down, Tony had nearly laughed at the irony.

Better them than Pete, he thought. And I don't care how selfish that sounds.

His phone buzzed in his pocket then, and he pulled it out, smiling as he read Peter's text.

"I got Jurassic Park queued up and James and Pepper are making popcorn. Where are you?"

Tony laughed, a true, hard, belly laugh at Peter's movie selection. Because after taking down an entire army of AI robots hell-bent on causing the extinction of all the humans on Earth, why wouldn't you want to watch a movie about dinosaurs, of all things.

Pushing himself up from his chair, Tony tapped in a quick reply, wondering yet again how in the hell he had gotten so lucky.

"On my way, buddy."

"Hey, Peter," Ned said tiredly, shuffling into their homeroom classroom the following Monday morning. He slammed his books down onto the desk, so hard that one of them bounced right off the stack and onto the floor.

"Morning, Ned," Peter answered, his chin resting on his own stack of books in front of him, wishing that he was still back at the Compound. He'd missed Ned, and had talked with him on the phone a few times after he and Dad's big talk, but Peter still wasn't quite ready to be back in school yet. They had stayed up at the Compound for the rest of the week, relaxing and decompressing—as Dad put it—with the rest of their family, but now it was time to reenter reality.

And for Peter, reality meant the seventh grade, and everything else that went along with it.

"Well, well, well," said the snarky voice of Flash Thompson as he entered the classroom, flopping down into his usual seat directly behind Peter. Peter really needed to remember to tell Dad that he didn't need to be dropped off at school so early anymore. "If it isn't little Penis Parker, back to grace us with his presence yet again. Where were you this time, little Parker?"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Flash!" Ned said in a loud whisper. "Peter was only off with the Avengers, saving the world. You know, the one you live in? You really should be thanking him."

Out of the corner of Peter's eye he saw Flash tilt his head, as if he was thinking. "Nah," he said as he kicked the leg of Peter's chair. "That'd be too easy. Besides, I highly doubt someone as puny as Parker here would be able to help the Avengers do much of anything." He kicked the leg of Peter's chair again, this time a bit harder. "What do you even do for them anyway, huh Parker? Do they make you wash their uniforms or something? I bet Captain America makes you polish his shield too, doesn't he?"

Thankfully, Peter was saved from having to think of a reply by the arrival of their homeroom teacher, who got right down to her usual business of reading the morning announcements. He was even able to mostly ignore Flash for the rest of the school day, aided by the fact that Flash had apparently failed one of their tests a couple of weeks ago, and therefore was pulled out of their chemistry class so he could attempt a retake.

"I still think it's so awesome how you helped take down that robot army," Ned said as he and Peter made their way towards the parking lot following the final bell. "But I still don't understand why you don't wanna tell anybody what you did. I think it'd even be enough to make Flash shut up. At least it would for a little while, don't you think?"

"My dad doesn't want it broadcasted that much," Peter said. He hooked his thumbs into the straps of his backpack, trying to balance its weight better. "He said the Avengers kinda got into trouble because of Ultron, and he doesn't want people talking about it too much."

Ned looked taken aback. "In trouble? Who'd they get in trouble with? I mean, you guys saved the world! Again!"

Peter shrugged. "The government, I guess. There's people there who don't like my dad, or any of the other heroes either." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I overheard my dad and Steve and Colonel Rhodes talking about it up at the Compound. James was telling them that he'd heard from one of his Air Force superiors that there'd been some whispers about trying to get the Avengers under some new code or jurisdiction or something."

"Whoa," Ned said, his eyes widening. "You mean like the Special Forces in the military?"

"Yeah, I guess," Peter replied. "But Dad and Steve don't want it. Steve said if that happened, they might be forced to go places he doesn't think the Avengers should have to go. After what happened down in D.C. and the whole HYDRA thing, Steve doesn't really trust the government all that much."

"Yeah, I guess I can't blame him," said Ned. "That was a really big mess down there, wasn't it?"

"From what my dad told me, yeah," answered Peter. "He hasn't let me read any of the files though."

"And what does your dad think of all this?" Ned asked. "From what you've told me, he's pretty good about talking some sense into the government folks."

"Yeah, he is," Peter said, stepping out of the back doors of the school and immediately tucking his hands up into the sleeves of his hoodie. He'd forgotten to grab his gloves that morning before he'd left the Tower. "He's still been getting calls from people in D.C. about the cleanup at the Triskelion. And I know it would've been a whole lot worse if that Sokovian city had gone up."

Ned raised his eyebrows, letting out a low whistle just as Steve Rogers drove into the parking lot on his motorcycle.

"Hey, Mr. Rogers!" called Ned, waving. "I mean… Mr. America."

"Hello, Ned," Steve said with a smile as he pushed down the kickstand. "I've told you that you can call me Steve, haven't I?"

"Y—, yeah, you have," Ned stammered. "Sorry, Mr. Rogers… I mean, Steve… sir."

Peter bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He remembered all too well when he was just as tongue-tied as Ned around the other heroes, including Steve.

Now though, they were his family. Steve was like a cross between a big brother and a fun uncle, where James was like the serious, stoic uncle that had a secret funny side that he only showed to certain people. And then Sam was the goofy uncle who never let anyone get away with anything, but was always the first person to suggest something if it meant he could play a joke on someone.

And Natasha, she was like the sly older sister who never wanted to let anyone know what she was up to, but wouldn't hesitate for a second to kick someone's ass if necessary. Peter was actually still more than a little intimidated by her, even though she'd never been anything but nice to him. Especially when she'd asked him to teach her how to do his gymnastics flips when they were training for their HYDRA raids.

And Peter still missed Bruce and Thor. They'd only been gone for a few days, but both the Tower and the Compound somehow felt emptier without them. Thor was just big; he was a big person with a big mouth and personality to match, so his absence was profound. And working in Dad's lab just wasn't the same without being able to listen to he and Bruce bantering back and forth.

"See ya tomorrow, little Parker," Flash Thompson suddenly said from behind Peter, slamming into the back of Peter's shoulder so hard he nearly knocked him into Steve.

"Hey, now," Steve said in his Captain's voice, placing a stabilizing hand on Peter's arm. "We don't need to be doing that kind of thing here, do we?"

Flash froze at the stern sound of Captain America's voice, and Peter watched as he looked up, his face draining of color at the angry look on Steve's face. "Uh… s—, sorry," he said quickly, his eyes flicking over to Peter. "Didn't see you there, Parker."

"No, now wait a minute," Steve said. He moved to the side, stepping directly in front of Flash as Flash tried to walk around him, throwing a not-so-subtle wink in Peter's direction. "That's not exactly true, is it? You knew Peter was standing there, didn't you? And yet you ran into him on purpose?"

"Well…" Flash stammered. "You see, Mr. Captain, Peter's kinda—"

"Peter's kinda, what?" asked Steve. Out of the corner of his eye Peter could see Ned's jaw dropping lower and lower and he bit his lip, trying to keep from smiling. "He's kinda, nice? He's kinda, smart? No, actually, he's really smart, like one of the-smartest-people-I've-ever-met, smart." Steve leaned down, his face mere inches away from Flash's rather long nose. "So, if that's what you meant, I'd say you were right. He's definitely both of those things. But somehow, I'm thinking that's not what you meant." Steve narrowed his eyes. "Is it, son?"

"M—, my name is Fl—, Flash, sir," Flash mumbled.

"Mmmhmm," Steve said. "And I would suspect with a name like Flash, that you're pretty fast at running. Is that true?"

"Um… n—, no, sir," said Flash, shaking his head. "I'm not really all that fast at anything. And I don't particularly care for running. Sir."

"Yeah, the only thing he's fast at is shooting off his mouth," Ned whispered from behind Peter. Steve's lips twitched slightly as his eyes briefly flicked over to Ned.

"Well, then, Flash," said Steve. "I would suggest that instead of trying to knock someone over on the sidewalk outside of school just because he's a bit smaller than you, that you try and treat Peter with some respect. Because I know without a doubt that Peter would do just that if the roles were reversed. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, sir," Flash said quickly, nodding. "I do agree, sir."

Steve stood up, nodding. "All right. Then I would very much appreciate it if you could apologize to Peter."

"Holy shit!" Ned whispered from behind Peter. "I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

"Um… r—, right now, sir?" whimpered Flash. "Because I usually like to plan things like that out first, and—"

"Yes, son," Steve said firmly. "I think right now would be a very good time for an apology."

The wind had picked up slightly in the few minutes they'd been standing there, and Peter was starting to shiver. But he was in no way going to open his mouth and disturb the history in the making happening right in front of him. As far as Peter knew, Steve wasn't even supposed to be there today in the first place. Dad hadn't mentioned anything about being unavailable this afternoon when he'd dropped Peter off that morning, although it wasn't the first time that Dad's plans had changed.

"Um… okay, " Flash muttered, audibly gulping as he turned to Peter. "Hey, Penis—, I mean, Peter. I… um… I'm sorry that I crashed into you like that. It… um… won't happen again."

As soon as he finished speaking, Flash winced and braced himself, as if he was expecting to suddenly burst into flame while he waited for Peter's reply.

"Thanks, Flash," Peter said softly. "Apology accepted."

"Now, that wasn't so hard, Flash," said Steve. "Was it?"

"No, sir," answered Flash, still obviously relieved that no spontaneous combustion had occurred.

"Then I trust that we won't need to have a discussion like this again?" asked Steve. He wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders, and Peter snuggled right up to him, grateful for the warmth. Despite it being a bright and sunny afternoon, it was pretty cold outside.

"No, sir," Flash said, shaking his head. "We will not, Mr. Captain. Nope."

"All right, Flash," Steve said. "Then I hope you have a nice rest of the day."

"Thank you, sir." With a final stiff nod sent in Peter's general direction, Flash took off the other way, eager to get some distance between him and Captain America.

"Great," Steve said with a firm nod as he turned to Peter. "Glad that's settled. Now, are you ready to get home, Peter?"

"Yes, please," Peter stammered through his chattering teeth. He really needed to start remembering his gloves in the morning.

"Here, Peter," Steve said, unzipping his leather riding jacket and draping it over Peter's shoulders. "You're shivering. It's a bit too cold out today for just that sweatshirt you're wearing."

"Yeah, I know," answered Peter as he slipped off his backpack, struggling to zip up the comically large jacket before it slid to the ground. Climbing up onto the motorcycle, he grabbed the extra helmet from the small storage space on the back, shoving his backpack down in its place. "I didn't know you'd be picking me up today."

"Me either," said Steve with a wink as he settled himself behind Peter on the motorcycle. "Ned? Make sure and watch that mouth of yours, yeah?"

"Yes, sir!" Ned replied with an extra cheeky grin. He was practically bursting at the seams, having just watched Flash Thompson get a dressing down from none other than Captain America himself. "I will, sir! But I just have to say, that was so, so incredibly awesome to witness! I can't thank you enough for allowing me to be a part of it, Mr. Captain, sir!"

Steve let out a laugh, securing Peter up against his chest and starting the bike. "You're welcome, Ned. See ya soon."

"See you tomorrow, Ned!" Peter called, waving as they drove away.

"Yeah, see ya, Peter!"

Steve was quiet on the drive back to the Tower, which wasn't unusual. He'd told Peter before that he didn't like to talk all that much when Peter was riding with him. But the fact that Dad had sent him to pick Peter up at the school instead of Happy or even Sam could only mean that Dad's paranoia was flaring up again.

And that likely meant that he'd had yet another phone call from the bigwigs down in D.C. They'd been bugging him a ton ever since the whole Project Insight mess, and the Ultron crisis had only intensified things.

President Ellis was almost halfway through his second term, which meant that the would-be candidates to replace him in the elections two years from now were beginning to roll out their campaigns. Peter knew that Dad had already received phone calls from several of the higher-ranking senators and governors, all asking for his support, which basically was code for financial backing and political clout. But Dad, who'd admitted to Peter that he'd supported some not-so-great politicians in the past, before he became Iron Man, had told them all that he wasn't interested unless they could guarantee to him—in writing, no less—that there would be no attempts to try and put the Avengers under any sort of government control.

And so far, not one of them had been able to do that.

"Good afternoon, Young Peter," FRIDAY said as the elevator doors opened into their Tower apartment. Right away Peter picked up the sound of his father, speaking angrily to someone in his lab. "How was school today?"

"Not bad, FRIDAY," Peter answered quietly, sliding off his backpack so he could take off his hoodie. He knew that he probably shouldn't try to overhear Dad's conversation, but he'd always been way too curious for his own good. There wasn't a single family member of his yet that hadn't said that very thing to Peter at least once.

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying," Dad said, enunciating each word carefully, and Peter could just picture the dramatic eye roll that accompanied his statement. Dad hated having to talk to politicians. "Do you need me to draw you a picture, Governor? Because if you do, then I'd be more than happy to have one sent to your office. What I am saying, is that I would require a written document, drawn up by my lawyers, guaranteeing that no one in your proposed administration would even think about coming after us. We are absolutely not interested in being pawns for the government to exploit. And yes, you can quote me on that, because I just said it."

Walking into his room, Peter tossed his backpack onto his bed next to George and threw his shoes over towards the closet, where they both thudded in succession against the closed closet door. He was hungry; he and Dad usually had a snack together after school when he wasn't on a trip. Peter paused in the doorway, running a hand through his hair as he tried to decide if his curiosity was stronger than his hunger.

He'd just decided to head towards the kitchen when Dad suddenly appeared in the hallway, walking towards his room. FRIDAY must've told him that Peter had arrived home.

"Hey, Pete," Dad said, ruffling his hair. "How was school today?"

Peter shrugged. "It was okay. You know, same old, same old."

Dad tried to smile, but it only came out as sort of a grimace. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up today, buddy. Got roped into yet another… extremely pleasant and enlightening conversation with the Governor of Pennsylvania."

"It's okay," Peter said quickly. "Steve showed up at school at a really, really good time, actually, so it worked out fine."

"Good," Dad replied as they arrived in the kitchen. Dad sat down at the counter, a pensive look on his face as Peter pulled sandwich ingredients out of the fridge.

"Dad?" Peter asked once his sandwich was made. "What's going on? Can you please tell me?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Pete," Dad answered. He pinched the bridge of his nose, which usually meant he was fighting a headache.

"Yes, it is," Peter said firmly, or as firmly as he was able to say around a mouthful of his sandwich. "You're obviously upset about it, and I wanna help."

"Pete," Dad said with a heavy sigh. "Even if I were to allow it, there's nothing you could do. There's nothing any of us can do right now except keep doing what we're doing. Nothing should change before the next election. At least, I don't think it will. Ellis at least still remembers that we saved his sorry ass from a madman."

Peter swallowed hard, putting his sandwich down onto the plate. "The elections are still two years away, Dad," he said. "A lot can happen in two years. Maybe once they're done cleaning up the Triskelion mess and people start to forget about Ultron, things'll get back to normal again."

Dad scoffed. "Normal. What even is 'normal' when you're an Avenger?" Pushing himself up from his stool, he shuffled over to the medicine cabinet, pulling out a bottle of aspirin. He popped three of the small tablets into his mouth, swallowing them down with a cup of coffee that was probably stone-cold by now. "Don't worry about it, Pete," he said, trying to smile. "I can take care of the politicians. You don't need to be concerned about it."

That's what you always say, Peter thought gloomily. "Okay. If you're sure."

"Course I am," Dad said, winking. "I'm Iron Man, dammit. Now, how much homework do you have?"

"Just the usual," answered Peter, taking another huge bite of his sandwich.

"Good. So when you're done stuffing your face, why don't you bring your books into the lab and work in there while I tinker, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay!" Peter said excitedly. He always enjoyed watching Dad work, and now that Bruce was gone Dad had been asking for Peter's help with things even more. Maybe they'd even be able to start working on the BARF thingy soon.

"Just be sure to clean the crumbs off the counter, bud," Dad called over his shoulder as he exited the kitchen. "Don't wanna make Pepper mad."

Three minutes later, after he'd swept the crumbs into the sink and deposited his plate into the dishwasher, Peter grabbed his schoolbooks from his room and wandered into Dad's lab, taking his usual seat at the counter off to the side. From the looks of it, Dad was working on another new uniform for Steve, this one with some thicker padding in the abdominal area, right over where Steve had been shot down in D.C.

"Is that the new version of the bullet-resistant fabric you were telling me about?" Peter asked, pointing to the blue and white uniform draped over a mannequin in the middle of the room.

"Yep," answered Dad, tugging on the ends of the chest plate. "Cap helped me design it. Hopefully I'll have it ready before his next mission."

Next mission?! They just got back! "When's that gonna be?" yelped Peter, his heart starting to thud. "Steve didn't say anything about having to leave!"

"We don't know yet, Pete," Dad said, holding up a placating hand. "So far there haven't been any solid leads that've turned up on this Bucky dude, but that could all change in a split second or less. Steve just wants to make absolutely sure when something does pop up, that he gets to this guy first. So we're just trying to be prepared."

"Yeah, okay," Peter whispered. "That makes sense. Um… if something did pop up, would you go with Steve to find Bucky?"

Dad's shoulders sagged as he let out a heavy sigh. "That depends on a lot of things, Pete. Right now… I don't know, to be honest. Now, get started on your homework so you can help me with this, yeah?"

"Uh huh," Peter croaked, sniffing. He flipped opened his chemistry textbook and pulled out his lab notebook, getting to work on balancing the chemical equations that he'd need for tomorrow's lab. But as he snuck a glance back over at his father, Peter could tell he was stressed, and not just about Steve's uniform or finding Bucky. Dad's shoulders were tight and his movements were twitchy and jerky as he worked, like they always were when he was overstressed and anxious. Despite what he'd told Peter, this whole issue with the government and the politicians was causing Dad to really, really freak out.

And when Dad freaked out, Peter tended to freak out too.

You guys have all been so patient with this timeline, and I can't thank you enough! The next chapter will have a bit of a time jump, so... I'm pretty sure you can all guess what that means. ;)

I'm always eager to hear what you think! Please don't hesitate to leave me a review! :)