There were a lot of things that Tony Stark could claim he'd seen or done in his lifetime. He'd fought against aliens, flown a nuke into space, almost died countless times, been in battles and even a sort-of war. He'd created and then helped take down a murderous AI that had wanted to commit mass genocide. He'd seen the rise and fall of superheroes in the public's eye and fought every step of the way to try and keep them from falling too far.

But one thing he could honestly say he'd never personally witnessed was dimension travel.

Sure, he knew it existed. It was possible, even if that was something that not even he was stupid enough to mess with. There were other idiots out there – Richards, the idiot – who seemed to have no problem messing around with those kinds of things. But Tony left them alone. So what the hell was he supposed to do with the dimension hopping teenager sitting in his medical wing?

Well, first things first, he was going to figure out a way to verify it. That meant a scan by FRIDAY – already being run – and some blood taken by Bruce. Then, well, either a phone call to Reed Richard or Stephen Strange. No real contest which one he was going to choose there. While he might frequently want to punch them both, and he really wasn't fond of magic, he and Stephen always managed to get along despite their bickering. Pepper tried to say it was because they were too much alike. Tony chose to ignore that insult.

Another thing he'd done was call May. That'd actually been the first thing he'd done. Once Spencer's story was done and Peter was again resting, thanks to the drugs,Tony had taken a moment to give May a quick call and let her know what was going on while also checking on Spencer and Peter's story. He'd been a bit surprised by the protectiveness the woman had shown. "You be careful with that poor boy." She'd warned him sharply. "He's a good kid with a good heart. You take good care of him – of both of them."

Later, when Tony was sitting with Bruce in Bruce's lab, waiting for the tests on Spencer's blood to finish running and watching a live feed of Peter's hospital room – Peter was asleep and Spencer was curled up in a ball on the couch – Tony voiced one of his concerns out loud to one of the few people he knew wouldn't judge him for it. "Do you think he's using his empathy to manipulate them?"

Bruce sighed and leaned against the table so he could twist enough to look at the video feed. "My gut says no. But…"

"Yeah. But." They had no real way of knowing. Not until Stephen arrived. Tony's gut was telling him no as well; the fact that May was so protective over the phone, after time apart from Spencer, suggested that she wasn't under any influence. Or that he had her under such a strong influence it hadn't faded away. Just thinking about that was enough to make Tony want to run down to Peter's room and get this Spencer kid the hell out of there.

Warmth curled over Tony's arm. He looked down at Bruce's hand and then up to the other man's face. The smile that Bruce wore was a kind one. One that eased some of the tension in Tony's chest. "It's going to be fine, Tony. He hasn't done anything to hurt either one of them for the past week. I doubt he's going to try now while under supervision. We've got time for our tests to come through and for Strange to get here and take a look at him."

"Unless the idea of Strange coming scares him into some sort of action." Tony pointed out. What would they do if he tried anything? The kid's powers were electrical based. That meant that the Compound's defenses would be useless and so would Tony's suits.

"Vision's standing guard in the hallway. Rhodes is on his way – he'll be here in an hour, tops, you said." Bruce reminded him. "And I'm here. While I'm not fond of the idea – if my emotions were strong for Spencer to handle, I don't imagine he'll be able to handle the Big Guy's all that well."

True. Though, that was even if Spencer had been telling them the truth about why he'd reacted the way he had when they came in.

Groaning, Tony brought his hands up to rub at his temples. This was too much, too early in the morning. He wasn't equipped to deal with this. Not without at least another pot of coffee. Maybe two. No time for whining. Knock it off and get it done. With that firm reminder, Tony dropped his hands and forced back the exhaustion. First order of business – coffee. As he pushed up from his seat and made his way over towards the machine, he said, "Well at least we can answer some questions now. It's pretty likely this kid's arrival has something to do with the massive electrical surge we registered a week ago."

He heard Bruce make a sound of agreement. "Strange did say he felt some traces of magic in the city, though he couldn't pinpoint where."

That had Tony's lip curling. His hands went through the familiar motions of preparing the coffee pot without any input from the rest of him. It left him free to throw a scowl over his shoulder.

Bruce just chuckled at him. He was well versed in Tony's opinion on magic. "One of these days you're going to have to get over your distaste for magic. Especially with how often you keep having to call him in."

"Don't remind me."

"Boss?" FRIDAY interrupted them. "Test results are in, if you wanna see them."

Immediately, Tony spun around. "Of course I want to see them! I wouldn't have run them if I didn't. Show me what's what, Fri. Let's see what science can tell us about who our boy in there is."

Holograms pulled up off to the side of the room. Bruce kept the things for most of that out of his way. He didn't really like working with them if he didn't have to. As Tony strode over to take a look, Bruce on his heels, FRIDAY was already walking them through it. "My preliminary scans have found no facial match in any known databanks. His fingerprints don't appear to be on file, either. The DNA will take another twelve hours at least to finish."

"So, we basically know nothing." Tony said. He stopped in front of the holograms and ran his eyes quickly over the data there. "Or, well, almost nothing." Reaching out, he pulled forward the results from the physical scans that FRIDAY had run while the kid was sleeping, which were now added to the information that had been pulled from the blood Bruce had tested. "Well he's not some sort of shapeshifter. Looks like this body might actually be his. According to FRIDAY's scans, that means he's somewhere around fifteen years old." Fifteen. Jesus. That kid in there was fifteen. It didn't matter what age he was claiming he was back home – this body was fifteen.

As he came to Tony's side, Bruce nudged their arms together briefly. "I'm going to try and not be offended on his behalf that you scanned him while sleeping."

Tony chose to ignore that. They could get into the ethics of this later. At the moment, his focus was on the next bit of information. "He's not like Peter, either. His blood tested positive for the X-gene."

"So he's a mutant."

"Looks that way. Depending on how this works out, remind me to put in a call to Charles." Flicking through the data brought a few more things forward. "Wow. He's really, really underweight. Scans show he needs to gain at least ten pounds." While that didn't seem like much, for someone Spencer's height it was quite a bit.

"He's definitely underweight, bordering on malnourished. His powers likely give him an increased metabolism like… Peter's." There was a brief pause in Bruce's words where they both knew he'd been planning on saying a different name. He glossed past it, though, much to Tony's gratitude. "I imagine he's been eating for the body he's used to. He wouldn't know that he'd need to change it for this one."

The way that Bruce said that, it had Tony pausing to turn and look at him. He took a moment to study his friend's face. Bruce's hair had gotten a bit long, in need of just a bit of a trim, and it kept slipping down towards his eyes only to get pushed back as he let his sharp gaze run over the information in front of them. There was a tiny furrow between his brows and a twist to the right side of his mouth that showed just how deeply he was thinking here. He was really focused on all this. More so than Tony had expected him to be. As he watched Bruce's face, he couldn't help but ask "You believe him, don't you?"

Bruce turned to look at him in confusion. It only took a second for his brain to catch up – one of Tony's favorite traits about him. Then his expression cleared and he didn't hesitate to nod. "I do."

"Why?" The word wasn't defensive. He was honestly curious. What made Bruce actually want to believe him?

"He's too sincere. His affection for Peter, his protectiveness, it's all right there for anyone to see. Just like his fear. Those emotions… they were too real to be faked."

"He's an empath. Maybe faking emotion is something they can do."

Bruce shook his head. "No. You saw the amount of control he had. He didn't even realize he was projecting at us."

Remembering the shocked look on Spencer's face when they'd called him on it, how surprised and then horrified and embarrassed he'd been, Tony had to give Bruce that one. He didn't really think that kind of emotion could be faked, either. But… too much of him railed at the idea of believing this kind of story. Dimension travel all because of touching some random magic symbols? It was ridiculous! And yet… and yet, if it was right, what did that mean for them? Tony needed to be proactive about this. He needed to think ahead. There were so many things that needed to be done if the morning visit with Stephen proved that Spencer was lying, but at the same time there were so many more things that had to be done if it turned out that Spencer was telling the truth.

Ugh. Rubbing a hand over his face, Tony looked down at his mug, just now realizing he'd finished it. This was going to require a whole lot more coffee. "When did I end up being the grownup?" With one last sigh, he dropped his hand rolled his shoulders. There wasn't any time to waste on whining. "All right. Fri, baby, send all this down to my workshop and get U to start a fresh pot of coffee. Also, put in a call to Pepper. It's, what, 9 a.m. there, right? We need to get ahead of this…"

His voice trailed off as he made his way out of the lab, leaving Bruce staring after him and shaking his head. When Bruce turned back to the holograms, his eyes went to the screen with the still sleeping teenagers. "FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Doc?" FRIDAY answered promptly.

"Keep an eye on whatever to-do list Tony's building, and if there's anything that me, or Colonel Rhodes, or even Pepper might be able to handle better, please send if off to us with a priority label." There was no way that Bruce was going to be able to stop Tony from stepping in and taking over here. It was just what he did. He was the take charge, fix-it type of person. But he could help ease some of his burden. It wasn't the first time he'd made this request of FRIDAY.

He thought he detected a faint pleased note in FRIDAY's voice when she responded. "Of course, Doc."

Nodding, Bruce turned his focus to the thing he knew he'd be able to help on, at least a little. FRIDAY had already banished the holograms for him which left Bruce free to turn around and head back to his computers. Maybe he'd be able to find something hidden in Spencer's medical scans or in the bloodwork that they had on him. While he waited for anything that Tony might need, he could at least get a handle on the medical side of things. Settling himself down into his chair, he clicked to open the first file, mind already absorbed in his work.

Morning came all too soon for the sleeping teenagers. Spencer woke up earlier than he would've liked, with sleep still trying to stubbornly cling to him. There was noise in the room around him. It was just familiar enough noise that it didn't trigger any sort of sense of danger. The familiar sensation of Peter's emotions combined with the low sound of his voice were enough to tell Spencer that those were Peter-sounds, and Peter was safe. He didn't have to worry about him. Then he heard other sounds, less familiar ones, and felt a strong wave of protectiveness and care that were mixed with lighter doses of concern and affection. The differences between the two were subtle, yet just enough to make them different, separate, while also somehow still feeling the same.

Only one person that Spencer had met so far had managed to create that kind of strong, dual sensation. Spencer slowly blinked his eyes open as the events of last night came back to him. Patrol, Peter getting shot, meeting Iron Man, coming back to the Compound, meeting Bruce, telling his story, and then passing out here in Peter's medical room.

Thinking of Peter's injuries had Spencer reaching out mentally to try and assess the teen's emotions. There was only the faint edge of pain there. It was a tiny bit muzzy, which Spencer had learned last night could be attributed to the painkillers. That meant that Peter was okay, though still on medication for it. Relief washed over him and had his body relaxing even more under his blanket.

He heard a low chuckle from across the room. "Looks like someone's awake." Bruce's voice said, humor ringing through it. "Good morning, Spencer."

Manners dictated that Spencer sit up and return the greeting. Exhaustion still left over from last night demanded he stay here under the blanket.

There was another laugh, this one higher and a bit warmer. Peter. "Don't expect much out of him, Dr. Banner. He's worse than Mr. Stark before coffee, I swear."

"That's equally impressive and terrifying."

"I know, right? I mean, some mornings he wakes up okay, a bit slow and such. But other mornings May and I laugh at him because he just sort of stumbles in all wobbly like and just stares at the coffee pot like he's waiting for God to show up in there or something. One time," Peter paused, letting out a laugh. "One time, the other morning, May and I came out and, an Spencer was just staring at the coffee pot, all sleepy and out of it, and he didn't even realize that there was already coffee in it! He was like, full zombie, trying to like, I don't know, absorb the fumes enough to kickstart his brain."

Wrinkling his nose, Spencer gathered up a little bit of energy in his hand, making it solid, and then he peeked out of the blankets long enough to toss it at the side of Peter's head. The fact that Peter was drugged was probably the only thing that allowed the ball to connect with his head. He watched as it hit and Peter jerked back. Then Peter turned to glare at him as he called out a petulant "Hey! No beating up the injured dude!"

"Quit telling stories about me." Spencer fired back. Resigned now to the fact that he had to be awake he pushed on the couch until he was upright. The blanket pooled around his waist. He wanted nothing more than to wrap it around himself and curl back up. Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards. Spencer tried not to sigh as his body protested the idea of actually doing anything. He ignored it, a skill he'd learned back in college, and focused instead on the two men in front of him. Peter was sitting up in bed and he looked much better today. He was back in regular clothes, though he had a sling holding his arm. Likely to keep it from pulling too much on the injured shoulder. There was color in his cheeks, though, and a smile on his lips.

Beside his bed stood Dr. Bruce Banner, dressed in clean clothes and with his hair still damp, suggesting he'd managed a shower before coming here. He had a lab coat on and glasses perched on the end of his nose. It made him look sort of, non-threatening. Something that Spencer knew wasn't true.

The room was a little brighter with the morning light coming in through the window. Spencer felt the unreasonable need to scowl at it. It didn't seem to matter how many years he'd worked at the BAU or how long he'd had to get up and go at all hours of the day and night. If there wasn't a case or something else equally important to give him that shot of adrenaline, his body and mind required copious amounts of coffee to wake up.

Much to the obvious surprise of Bruce, Peter scooped up the ball that Spencer had thrown at him and he threw it back. Spencer fumbled only a little as he went to catch it. Hey, he'd been in mid-yawn, all right? Who was ready to catch something mid-yawn?

As soon as the ball touched his hand, he absorbed the energy back in. It wasn't enough to make any real difference in his own energy levels. However, it freed up his hands enough that he could lift one up and use it to push his hair back from his face. He rubbed over his eyes before dropping his hand back down to his lap. Then he forced himself to lift his head and be the adult he was supposed to be – even if he didn't really look the part right now. "My apologies, Dr. Banner. I'm not… at my best in the mornings." He apologized.

It looked like Bruce was trying not to smile at him, though Spencer couldn't be sure, though he could definitely feel the man's humor. "You're fine. I've seen worse."

"Dr. Banner was just in here to check on us and see about breakfast." Peter interjected, rocking forward and back a little on the bed. He had far too much energy for Spencer's tastes. Shouldn't he have been the one to not want to get up this morning? He'd been shot – twice – last night. He'd had to have surgery. Yet here he was, sitting up and rocking away in bed, beaming at Spencer like the things he was saying were the greatest thing in the world. "He said Mr. Stark has breakfast upstairs for us, and if I was feeling up for it we could go ahead and join them. I guess they've got people there to talk with us about what's going on and maybe ways that they might be able to help you or something like that. I just had to get the all clear from Dr. Banner first, and I have, so we were debating on waking you up when you finally woke up on your own."

Spencer hummed lowly. He was too used to Peter's rapid-fire speech to be bothered by it. "Breakfast sounds wonderful, actually." Coffee and food both sounded appealing. Still, he eyed Peter carefully, trying to get his brain moving enough to really analyze his friend. "You're sure you're up for it, Peter? You're not even twelve hours post-surgery yet. Even with your level of accelerated healing, that's still pushing things."

"I'm fine!" Peter exclaimed, even as Bruce spoke over top of him to say, "So long as he takes it easy for the next few days and gets some proper rest, he should be fine leaving the hospital bed. A lot sooner than I'd originally estimated, too."

Now that got Spencer's attention. He paused just as he'd been preparing to stand up. "Oh?"

"I'd like to discuss it with Tony first – he's got the best understanding of Peter's healing factor – but the rate of healing present this morning goes above and beyond what we'd anticipated." Bruce gestured with his hands as he spoke, just small little movements in the space in front of him that looked like they might've been greater ones, only the man was too drawn in on himself. Spencer logged that bit of information away and continued to watch as Bruce kept talking. "Considering what your powers did for your own injuries, I'm curious if they might be what's behind the rapid recovery of Peter's injuries. You had your hands on both wounds when you two arrived. There's a chance you could've stimulated the regrowth of his cells, which would've continued on even after your powers were withdrawn."

Was that true? Was there a chance that he'd helped Peter heal? Spencer looked to Peter and found the teen beaming at him. "I guess I owe you a pretty big 'thanks, then." Peter said. He grabbed hold of the side of the bed with his good arm and started to slide out – of course, on the side opposite of Bruce, a choice that Spencer was sure was deliberate.

Spencer hurried to stand up as well and quickly went to Peter's side, stumbling just a little, so he was right there when Peter finally made it up to his feet. He reached out, catching hold of Peter's hips and helping to steady him when he wobbled just a bit. Peter flashed him a thankful smile for it. "Thanks."

"If you're going to insist on being upright, at least take the proper care." Spencer admonished him. He kept hold of Peter's hips until the teen was steadier, neither one of them noticing the surprised look that Bruce wore as he watched them. As soon as Spencer was sure that Peter wasn't going to fall, he let go of him and took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave him a quick lookover. Seeing how healthy Peter looked had him shaking his head. "Things is this universe will never cease to amaze me. The scientific possibilities behind a healing factor like yours…" Trailing off, he shook his head again. "I hope I get to remember all of this if I go home."

"When." Peter corrected him, the same as he always did each time Spencer slipped up on his wording. He had so much more hope in him. So much more faith. "When you get home. And I'm sure you will, man."

He could only hope. The types of things he might be able to do with what little information he'd managed to gather here – the possibilities were endless. Especially if there was a chance he could make some small use of the facilities here and even just briefly study his own DNA. The types of things he might discover then, oh, he could only begin to imagine.

Peter chuckled at him and shifted himself until he could lift his good arm and throw it over Spencer's shoulders. It only made Spencer flinch just a little. He'd gotten better about accepting Peter's touch this past week; the kid did it often enough, it was hard not to get used to it. Even when he tried not to, he still did it more than the average person. Not that Spencer seemed to mind as much as he normally did. Maybe it was just that Peter was a kid to him, and he'd always had an easier time with children touching him than adults. Being around his Godson had helped with that. Or maybe some part of him just trusted Peter. He didn't know, and he wasn't all that eager to go testing it. Especially not while he was still only half awake. Instead, he just let himself lean in a little, his own arms still crossed over his chest, and he allowed Peter to lead him out of the room and in the direction of what he assumed would be a dining room, chatting the whole way.

They ended up crossing a skybridge into what Peter told him was the residential building. There, they got into an elevator that took them to what Bruce said was the 'common floor'. Spencer was still tucked in against Peter's side when the trio stepped off of the elevator. There, with the comfort of his friend at his side, Spencer took a look around, eyes scanning the room and taking in every detail.

The casual wealth displayed didn't bother him. Money had never really bothered him. What was the point of that? Some had it, some didn't. He wasn't going to begrudge someone their wealth. The coolness of the room, though, that was something that he raised an eyebrow at. Everything seemed to be metal and glass. Windows were all along the far wall, tall ones with smaller ones up at the top, and the walls and floors carried either the silver of metal or a grey that was close to it. The whole thing had a futuristic feel to it; one that was nicely broken up by the colorful furniture.

The left half of the room was obviously a living area. There was a large TV – far larger than anything Spencer had ever owned, maybe even ever seen – and three dark green couches as well as a loveseat and four various chairs, two of which were larger than the average chair and yet not quite the size of a loveseat. They'd obviously been made with someone larger in mind.

The right half of the room held the dining area and kitchen. The two bled into one another, creating a sort of family like atmosphere that was nicely added to by the warm wood of the cabinets, the chairs, and even the large table.

The quick look that Spencer took was interrupted when he finally registered the people that were in the kitchen area. God, he must've been more tired than he thought to not have noticed them already. The urge to burrow in a bit closer to Peter's side hit him. In response, he tugged himself away, straightening up and standing under his own steam. He kept at Peter's side, though, and let his friend lead him into the room. Spencer recognized at least two of the four people that were waiting for them. He knew Tony, and he recognized the one called Vision. The other two, though, he didn't know who they were, and that just made him nervous.

The presence of others didn't seem to bother Peter in the least. He almost bounced his way into the room and called out greetings to all of them as he went. "Morning, Mr. Stark!" He called out first. Then, "Morning, Vision. Morning, Colonel Rhodes!" Pausing when he reached the island bar seats, where the two men Spencer didn't know sat, Peter's grin flashed wider and he didn't even bother hiding his good cheer. "Morning, guy I don't know. When did you get here, Colonel? I didn't think you were going to be back for a while. Mr. Stark said you had important stuff to deal with out in DC the last time I asked him about you. Did it go well? Are you really back or are you just visiting? It's not because of last night, is it? Cause that'd be ridiculous."

"I just got in." One of the men said. He had dark skin and was wearing civilian clothes, despite the title Peter had given him – just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt – and he had a set of braces on his legs that Spencer wanted nothing more than to get a closer look at. They look amazing. "What're you doing up, kiddo? Shouldn't you still be in bed?"

Peter waved his good hand dismissively in the air. At the same time, Tony – who was over at the coffee pot – scoffed at them all. "You try keeping him in bed and see how far it gets you. We're lucky he stayed down this long."

"Sounds like a chip off the old block." Colonel Rhodes shot back.

The banter between them was relaxed and easy in a way that suggested they were all comfortable with one another. Spencer watched it carefully as he made his way over to them at a slower pace than Peter. He had Bruce at his side now, who surprisingly hadn't stepped away from him to join the others. But it wasn't any of them that Spencer was paying attention to. It was the last person in the room, the only one he didn't know. The one who had yet to stop staring at him.

The man was on the tall side; that was easy to tell, even with him sitting down. He was also wearing blue robes that were belted on, with matching pants, and… a cape. A long, red cape. He also had a goatee, much like Tony, and his grey eyes hadn't left Spencer once since the genius had looked his way. They were fixed on him as Spencer slowly joined the rest of the room and they held there even as Spencer stopped himself at Peter's side and shamelessly made sure that he was angled just right so as not to be directly in the man's line of sight. Being by Peter helped Spencer feel just a bit more relaxed. It also helped him keep his shields up against the influx of emotions. He was better able to buffer with someone so familiar present.

He didn't get to stay hidden, though. The Colonel actually leaned around Peter to smile at Spencer and hold out a hand. "Since no one else is gonna do it – Hi, I'm Lt. Colonel James Rhodes. You can call me James or Jim."

"But not Honey Bear." Tony chimed in, rather unhelpfully. He leaned back against the counter by the coffee and smirked over the top of the mug he cradled in his hands. "Only I get to call him that."

Spencer licked his lips and looked down at the Colonel – Jim's – hand. Then he flicked his gaze back up to the man's face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Colonel."

After realizing that Spencer wasn't going to shake hands, Jim drew his hand back in.

His behavior earned him a worried look from Peter, but it got him another snort from Tony. "Rude. Were you planning on introducing yourself too, or were you just going to hide behind Peter all morning?"

So that's how he wanted to play this, was it? Spencer arched an eyebrow at the billionaire. Was he just naturally this rude, or was he trying to provoke some sort of reaction out of Spencer, maybe put him on edge? It was a logical tactic. One that might've worked on someone else. Spencer just pushed his hands down into the pockets of his sweatpants, suddenly reminded of how very underdressed he was, and tried his best to keep his expression light. Never let them see you flinch. Don't let them see you weak. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression you'd already taken care of those introductions. I mean, that is why everyone is here, isn't it? To figure out how much of a threat I am?"

Somewhere off to the side came the sound of what might've been smothered laughter. Spencer was pretty sure he heard a sigh from Bruce, too. Because he was looking at Tony, he saw the little twitch to his lips, the only sign of humor that he showed. He tipped his head just a little at Spencer. "Touché, kid. Spencer, you met Vision last night, and you've met Rhodey. The only guy left over here is Doctor Stephen Strange, our very own Professor Dumbledore."

"You've read Harry Potter?" Jim asked incredulously.

Vision, who was busy pulling things out of the fridge to hand over to Bruce at the stove, turned to smile at them. "I quite enjoyed that series."

The beginnings of a headache teased at the edges of Spencer's head. These people were too much to deal with without any coffee in his system. He felt like the odd duck out there. It reminded him of the few times he'd gone on a case for work, fresh off vacation, and he'd beat the rest of the team there, meaning that he was the only federal agent in a station full of police officers that were often close and rarely were pleased with the presence of outsiders.

Just like he would in that situation, Spencer refused to let his nerves show. He lifted his chin ever so slightly and forced himself to take a step away from Peter, and then another, and then another, until he reached the coffee pot. He ignored the way his shields wobbled a little and focused on taking a cup from the little cup tree on the counter. It didn't even matter that he wasn't going to be able to put cream or anything in it. At the moment, he just needed the caffeine. Anything to jolt his system awake so maybe he could deal with this properly.

Behind him, Peter gave a low, nervous laugh. "Sorry. He's just… he's not usually awake without some coffee in him, y'know? He's uh, he's not usually this rude." The last word was said pointedly; a deliberate jab to Spencer to try and remind him of his manners.

When Spencer turned back around, mug in hand, he gave Peter a firm look. The teen wasn't going to make him feel bad about his manners. He just wasn't. Peter didn't understand. He didn't recognize the ambush for what it was. From the minute Spencer had walked into the room – likely even before that, considering the security in this place – they'd been watching him. Everything he did, everything he said, it was all important. What they saw here was going to dictate their image of him. Like hell if he was going to let that image be a weak one.

"I'm not being rude." Spencer said, letting his eyes run over them all. "I'm simply not in the mood to play word games. We all know why we're here." He took a bolstering sip off his coffee before he continued speaking into the now silent room. "The fact that you allowed Peter in here with me suggests that you're willing to talk instead of simply locking me away until you figure things out. Now, we can either play a verbal back and forth while you attempt to extract as much information from me as you can, or you could simply ask your questions and likely get the answers far easier. The choice is yours."

Silence fell over the room. All eyes were on Spencer, who fought not to shift uncomfortably under those stares.

It wasn't until Peter snorted and mumbled "I told you you should let him have coffee first" that the silence was broken.

There was the sound of movement coming from the stove once more and the other men were watching him with looks that ranged from amused to curious. Even Tony looked a bit less… intense, now. "All right, kid." He said, some of the edge gone from his voice. "No more games. Not now, at least. Though I reserve the right to play any and all of them at a later time."

Spencer nodded at him. "Thank you." He paused briefly and then narrowed his eyes over the mug. "And stop calling me kid."

His only answer to that was a laugh.

With a shake of his head, Spencer took another drink off his coffee. This was going to be a long morning.