I have been freed (of everything) bonus

'Spider Man, could you share with me how spider sense works?' Ijon asks with his usual kind voice.

'No,' Peter murmurs with his mouth full of pizza. Good thing that the Avengers have an amazing fund for food, with Cap and Bruce onboard – and every other resident of the house eats more than an average citizen anyway. 'I don't talk about that stuff. With anyone. Period. It's too touchy, man,' he clarifies. Truthfully.

'Of course,' Ijon agrees politely and Peter wants to say bullshit, but the A.I. speaks up first. 'Well, at least one thing I know is that it lets you burn through calories much faster than normal humans.'

'Ha ha,' Peter says drily, licking the melting cheese off his fingers. That is an accurate observation so he doesn't deny it. 'Wait – wait. You canjoke? How come you can joke? How come I've never noticed it before?'

'I'm a learning system,' Ijon replies easily and it seems like his voice is less flat than usual, and less polite. As if he were teasing.

'What else have you learned then?' Peter inquires, grabbing the last piece of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth. It's not very comfortable to eat with his mask on, but he's used to it by now.

'I'm slowly getting to know each of you better, especially the residents of the Avengers' Mansion,' Ijon replies elusively and Peter snickers. Sure. Count on Nate – Iron Man – to create an A.I. that would be good at hiding things.

'You totally are connected to Nate's A.I. that he has in his workshop, right?' Peter continues, wiping his greasy hands on a napkin. 'And he knows everything that's going on in here.'

'There are privacy protocols that Nate respects.'

'Sure there are,' Peter mumbles, expecting some kind of a comment, but Ijon does his A.I. equivalent of sudden silence. Peter doesn't exactly know how he knows that, but he does. 'What's going on?'

'Nothing I can inform you about, Spider Man' Ijon says easily, telling Peter as much as he needs to know: something is going on.

It isn't difficult to figure out what, it only takes Peter venturing out of the TV room he tends to spend too much time in when he's visiting the mansion, whether of his own or watching movies with Steve or Clint or Phil. Or Natasha, but she's hardly ever around.

Clint and Phil are nowhere to be seen – spending time on their own in their rooms, as always, and Peter can't help but snicker at the thought, they are so nauseatingly cute when they don't think anyone is watching – and Natasha is out already. Bruce is never a problem. That means it's Steve.

Cap is sitting in the middle of a gigantic sofa in the living room, staring at the blank page of a sketchpad in his lap, hands entwined, and he looks as if he was going to throw the pad across the room any second. Or start crying.

Peter steps carefully into the room, cursing his luck: there really isn't anyone less suited for comforting people than him. Peter is good at being Spider Man, good at fighting and joking around and good at science, but he's smart enough to realize he lack the ability of dealing with people. Just take his attempts at a relationship: none of them lasted longer than two months. Fifty eight days, to be precise, but he shakes his head to make those numbers go away.

'Cap? You all right?' he asks, keeping his voice light and unassuming.

'Iron Man told me you know he was Nate,' Steve says, not looking up. The super soldier senses let him know there is no one else around to listen to his words, Peter guesses. 'Were you angry at him for hiding it?'

'Well,' Peter swallows, thinking about the right answer and trying to figure why and how does Steve know that all of sudden. 'He had the right. Like I do.'

'Yeah, I know,' Steve sighs and shoves the sketchpad onto the sofa as he gets up abruptly. 'I know, of course, and it doesn't really help. I mean –'

'You mean you don't have to be conflicted about them – him – all of sudden,' Peter guesses, wishing he didn't say that as soon as the words are out of his mouth. But since he started, he can as well continue. 'And you like them. Him. So? Doesn't it get easier now?'

It obviously doesn't, Peter can tell that from Steve's body language, but he wants an admission. From his experience, an admission makes things easier. Or at least clearer.

'I told him,' Steve admits and Peter wants to bang his head against the wall all of sudden. As if there wasn't enough craziness going on around, they need a romantic conflict within the team. 'He said he couldn't.'

'So he didn't say he doesn't want?'

'He said he couldn't,' Steve repeats, pacing around the room, his steps echoing hollowly. 'Can I tell you something? I – I need to tell this to someone and you're the only one around who knows about him and I need a friend to tell this to –'

'Sure, go on,' Peter encourages Cap, sitting at the edge of the sofa and following Steve with his sharp eyes.

'He said he still wants to be friends. And I never – I never wanted more than knowing that we are something more. You could call it platonic, I think that's the word for it. And I still want to be his friend, I just – I need a little bit of time to digest this. He won't want to talk to me now, I can tell that. He needs time too.'

'So give him time.'

'Just like that?'

'Well, I suck at relationships, but that's all that makes sense to me right now? You both need to cool down. I guess that'd be best for you.'

'If I may,' a sudden voice speaks up from everywhere at once and both Peter and Steve flinch a little. 'I do know Nate well enough to be able to offer you my insight.'

'Does he do that often?' Peter asks, the corners of his mouth quirking. 'You know, offer you advice?'

'I tend to ask him for advice,' Steve admits. 'Ijon always has something to tell me and I don't want to bother everyone with the questions I still have, even though it's been such a long time since – you know. So, what do you say, Ijon?'

'While Nate might be reluctant about a face-to-face meeting at the moment, as you certainly must have decided yourself, Steve, a message to him would be a good idea.'

'You mean, I write him an email?' Cap asks, frowning slightly.

'Or leave a voice message,' Ijon adds and Steve smiles.

'You know me too well,' he chuckles and Peter stares at Cap bewildered. He wasn't aware things like that were going on around here. And Steve – he must get really lonely if his best friend – after Iron Man – is artificial intelligence that runs the house. 'But not now. I'd need to think of what to say.'

Ijon stays silent and Peter can only imagine how it will be like, with Cap being so sweetly shy like whenever he's not being the captain of the team. He isn't sure what to think about this whole situation, but he has a vague feeling that it's his fault, at least partially. He was the one to tell Nate that Steve said he likes him and Iron Man the same.

So, he has an obligation to try to fix it – at least temporarily.

'Well, since we're in the middle of… something,' he says, grimacing a bit, 'I say we should get some food and laze around. Watch a bad movie, I'm like the world's greatest expert on bad movies. It should help with you-know-what.'

'Should it?' Steve asks skeptically, his eyebrows quirked, and Peter wishes they were all less awkward in human interaction. Funny thing: it's such a great superhero team and they are best at pretending.

'Well, one word: chocolate. And don't tell me it's girly,' Peter warns Steve before he can even try to say something. 'It's science. It's scientifically proven so you don't get to escape from this. Ijon, please get us some food, your choice, but make sure there's a chocolate pizza in there, or two. Since it's on the team.' Peter adds and Steve shakes his head amusedly.

'You're impossible,' Steve comments, sitting back on the sofa, next to the discarded sketchpad, but his voice is laced with fondness. Peter likes that, even though he tries not to admit that even to himself, it feels like finding his place.

'The order is placed, Spider Man,' Ijon says quietly. Peter laughs out loud.

'Anyway, does he play therapist, too? Do you, Ijon?' he adds, looking up at the ceiling.

Ijon doesn't answer and that explains everything. Steve has his pencil back in hand already, drawing soft lines on the creamy paper, and Peter climbs onto the back of the sofa and finds a comfortable spot for the minutes they have to wait for the food delivery.

He wonders if the team is worth losing his secret identity and if it would be worth it, being here. Moving in. Taking part. But there's no rush, he decides. Chocolate pizza first and then he might be ready to think about tomorrow.

A/N:

Thank you for reading!

I hope you enjoyed this little bonus, a trip outside Tony's POV. Sometimes it's easy to forget, even for me, how much is going on in this 'verse that Tony doesn't take part in. I hope it was at least a bit of a surprise to you :) Let me know what you think and I'll send you all the virtual chocolate pizza! I'm very interested in knowing what you think about the idea of such bonuses, if you like it I might consider writing few more at some point :)