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restart my heart
interlude ii
the last adventure
time frame; Sophia - 10 , almost 11 Peter - 14, almost 15
delmar's deli
"Walking sucks." Sophia pouts. She's so tightly wrapped in heavy jackets and scarves she can't put her arms all the way down. Her limbs practically bounce with every step she takes. It's embarrassing.
She can only hope this is a thick enough disguise no one would even begin to think it's really her underneath all these layers.
The unrelenting winds have nothing on how tightly pinned her beanie is to her head. Bobby pins dig into her scalp and stick out of her pink beanie. Her mismatched brown hair not budging even a single inch under its harsh conditions. The several layers of clothes Peter forced upon her made her sweat heavily and has actually become red faced from the heat of it all rather than from the cold winter air swiping at her face. She's pretty sure her feet are gross and swampy from sweat instead of snow because of the three layers of socks Peter forced upon her.
"We're almost there, Soph. I promise it will be worth it." Peter tugs on her hand, carefully weaving them through the crowd of New York. The sidewalks are so congested she has to continuously squeeze her way and brush past everyone in their vicinity.
Well, squeeze into herself as much as she can. It really meant she had to turn sideways to avoid getting lost or hit while taking a deep breath. The people of New York stink.
Tourism is at its peak. Everyone is traveling to see the Christmas tree, ice skate, and enjoy the winter snow. Making New York one of the most miserable places to be at the moment.
She wrinkles her nose. Her scarf once tightly wrapped now falling below her nose, slightly itchy. "I don't understand how a pickle sandwich could be worth this much walking." She groans. "Especially during tourist season."
Sophia struggles to bring her hand forward to itch her nose. Unable to even move her gloved hand above her waist no matter how hard she grunts and pulls and huffs.
"It's not that much of a walk. We've only been walking for twenty minutes. Besides, walking is good exercise. Fresh air and stuff." Peter doesn't break his stride when his hand automatically goes up to adjust her scarf. Tucking it tightly into the collar of her winter coat.
Sophia lets out a few ragged breaths for air.
"Why couldn't we have Happy take us? Or you could have swooshed us here. Unless you still suck at it, of course."
"Hey! I can swoosh just fine." Peter huffs, yanking her closer to help her avoid ramming into another group of people. She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue.
"You dropped me last month." Sophia says flatly. "Six stories up. Bruce had to catch me."
"Two months ago. And you were safe and I apologized! It was a training drill. Besides, you didn't die. You're fine." Peter steers her to the left around a corner.
"I have psychological trauma."
"Suuuuure you do." Peter yanks her forward, pushing her in front of him and through a glass door. Bells tinkling above their heads. "I'll keep that in mind next time you want to see the Christmas lights from up high. I won't take you if that's the case. Wouldn't want to unintentionally relive that traumatic moment."
She rolls her eyes. Not bothering with a response. She knows very well he can't say no to her (who would say no to a Stark anyways?) and will be swinging her in the sky to see the lights in no time. Instead, she walks further into the tiny store and takes in the new environment.
Looking around, Sophia couldn't help but wince at the harsh fluorescent lights. The store looked like a mix of a gas station and a run down grocery store. Haphazardly placed shelves with cans and boxes crammed into every little place on her left. No rhyme or reason for their order. To her right stood a tall burly man behind a deli counter holding a cat. That couldn't be sanitary.
"Hey, Mr. Delmar." Peter waves at the man. "How are you doing?"
Sophia waddles over to Peter's side at the sales counter. Head and neck were too constricted from her layers to tilt her head back to look at the man or look up enough to see what the wooden sign above their heads say. Sweat poured profusely from her face. She'd rather go back outside.
"Who's the kid?" She could hear the click of a register being closed.
"Oh, uh, she's my aunt's friend's kid. You know, babysitting. Normal teenage job things." Peter stumbles.
Doing a very poor job of trying to act normal to conceal her identity. Sophia rolls her eyes. Leaning forward to rest against the counter. Huffing out small puffs of air.
"Well she looks like she's going to pass out with all those layers."
"She's fine — Oh! Hey, why didn't you take off your jacket." Peter kneels down at her eye level. Hands carefully tugging and unwrapping her white scarf from around the lower half of her face.
Taking a big gulp of air, Sophia scowls at him. "I can't move my arms close enough to unzip it because somebody decided to turn me into a human burrito."
Peter cringes and quickly apologizes, brows pinched in concentration. Peter quickly undoing the zippers on the several jackets he stuffed her in. "I may have gone overboard with the safety precautions."
"That's Stark's kid isn't it?" Shoving off her final jacket, Sophia glances up at the man and the sign above him. Scruffy dark beard with flecks of white. Deep lines and wrinkles etched in his face.
Delmar Deli in faded blue cursive is painted on the wood singing back and forth. A chalkboard menu beneath it written in hard to understand writing.
So a gas station, grocery store, cat cafe, subway combination, Sophia muses to herself. Interesting.
"We came for a famous pickle sandwich." Sophia responds the exact same time Peter starts to protest. Hand on the back of his head and radiating anxiety.
"No, not at all! I definitely don't have any reason or connection to even know Mr.Stark to be able to babysit his kid." Peter waves his hands in front of his face. "I'm just a lowly intern there. This is my cousin I'm babysitting."
"Hey! I don't need a babysitter. I'm ten." Sophia glares at her forced play date.
"She's just a random kid I found. You know the Big Brother program for school. Got to get that college resume ready." Peter finished lamely.
"I think you just contradicted yourself with three different stories. For a supposed genius, there's not a lot going on up there." Sophia mumbles under her breath, pilling her excess clothes neatly into her arms.
The man grunts, twisting to reach behind him. Grabbing and flopping a magazine in front of Peter with a loud smack while handing her a plastic bag for all her clothes. From her position beneath the counter, Sophia can barely make out an image of her, Tony, and Peter walking out of Stark Industries on the front cover.
"Maybe avoid magazine covers if she's supposed to be a secret. Or at least come up with a better story and actually stick to it, kid."
"I'm not the secret. He's the secret." Sophia looks up at the man. "A bad one."
"I like you kid." He barks out with a laugh.
Peter looks sheepish. "I'm part of an internship is all. For Stark Industries."
The man doesn't look convinced. "So a glorified babysitter. Well, if you're on the Stark payroll I'm upping the price to thirty dollars a sandwich. Not including the tip." Delmar winks.
Before Peter could fully protest, Sophia drops her dad's (borrowed and definitely not stolen) card on the counter. It's heavyweight clinking against the glass counter. "Deal. Only if we can sit in the break room to eat." She wrinkles her nose. "I'm tired of walking."'
"Sophia, you can't just bribe people with money. Besides, the trampoline park isn't far from here." Peter bends to her height and flicks her forehead. She glares back at him.
"The hell she can't." Delmar lets out a booming laugh. "I could use it for some upgrades around here. Or a vacation. Tell me what you want sweetheart. I'll even throw in a cookie for free."
"Is it really for free when we're paying almost three times the normal amount?" Peter deadpans.
"Ham grilled cheese please. Peter will have his usual but smooshed." Sophia brings her hands together as if she's smashing it herself.
"Just sign here and I'll bring it out when it's ready."
Standing on her tiptoes, Delilah takes the stylus to the screen. Selecting a custom tip. She notices the owner actually charged under the normal price despite his earlier comments.
Sophia swipes the pen to create a custom tip.
"Your dad is going to kill me." Peter groans, looking over her shoulder to see the total.
"More like disown you." She places the pen back into its slot and pushes back the pad as far as she can. She confidently makes her way to the back of the store and walks through a swinging door that says 'employees only'."
A lone table with only just two chairs sat in the middle of the tiny room. One counter with a mini fridge, microwave, and coffee pot to the left. Nothing else in the room except broken tile floors and flickering lights that hum low in the background.
Beats walking through a crowd in New York.
"He can't disown me. We aren't related." Peter pulls his chair back.
Sophia's toes barely graze the floor from her seat. "Yeah, but he calls us the 'Iron Kids' one and two on his phone contacts." Sophia tilts her head, contemplating. "I believe mom calls you Tony Jr. though. But only when you're being reckless like dad. So close enough, I guess."
Peter stares in her direction but it doesn't feel like he's staring at her. "What?"
Sophia pauses and gnaws on her lip. Unsure if this was appropriate information to divulge. She assumed it was a well known secret but seeing the glimmer shining in Peter's eyes, it tells her otherwise. "Yeah, I mean you're practically part of the Avengers at this point. All Avengers become honorary family members to dad. Is it really that shocking?"
Peter lets out a breath and practically deflates. "I guess you're right. I just never thought…Never mind." He shakes his head, leaning back into this seat.
They sit in silence. Peter deep in thought, contemplating what she didn't have the faintest idea. To her it wasn't that hard to understand. Sometimes family is the one you make. Being around the hero's has at least taught her that. Plain and simple.
Natasha had once told her she trusts Clint Barton more than she trusts her own family she had growing up. The same for Steve about Bucky. Her dad and Rhodey. Or even when thinking of herself, Pepper Potts would be her equivalent of someone she would put above those she shares DNA with. She doesn't know a single person that would choose blood over bond.
Peter is around at the Avengers Compound so often it would be weird if he wasn't considered a part of this dysfunctional and mismatched band of misfit heroes. Living and staying at the compound on weekends, school breaks, and any free time he can get. Even if her dad and herself are not there.
He didn't look upset or disappointed at her words. More as if he was on the verge of happiness and uncertainty. She could tell his eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he fidgeted in his seat.
"The title of Avenger and family are one and the same for us Stark's." Sophia says quietly.
Peter doesn't respond.
She didn't know much about his home life or personal life. Especially seeing this is only about the fifth time they've seen each other in person. Just that he lived with his Aunt May. She wasn't sure why he wasn't with his parents or if he even has anyone to call mom and dad. But adding to your family, chosen or not, couldn't possibly be a bad thing. At least she didn't think so until now.
She couldn't decipher how Peter truly felt about being a part of their inner circle. Not many people are given the honor and privilege to be a part of their lives. Harley Keener, her only sort of friend, being a prime example. Despite the years they have known each other and seen each other, he could never completely break through the barriers her dad put up around them. Harley is continuously and purposely being kept at an arm's length for "safety" her dad would say. Never willing to elaborate.
It's something Sophia never chose to focus on. It's unimportant and unnecessary. Her dad did a lot of things without rhyme or reason. No game plan. Taking life as it comes. Harley just happens to be a victim of Tony's occasional erratic behavior.
But Peter…Peter Parker never is.
Their sandwiches get dropped off quickly. Delmar, in a rush to get back to the now bustling store, ran off with a quick wave. Being true to his word, threw in some cookies for them along with water bottles. Unaware of the dreary atmosphere.
Sophia quietly unwraps Peter's sandwich and tears off a corner. "I don't know what you're thinking but just so you know, Aunt Nat says our family is the family we make. Like Uncle Rhodey or Steve. That it holds even more of a special bond because they're choosing you and you're choosing them. Not forced to stay because of the happenstance of shared DNA."
Squaring her shoulders, Sophia looks Peter in the eyes. "And it is an honor to be a part of our family, Avenger's and Stark's. It speaks highly of your character so wear it with pride."
Peter gives her a gentle smile. Eyes crinkling at the corners. "Then I'm honored to be your family, Sophia. It really means a lot to me."
"Don't get too excited. Everyone in the Avengers get a ranking in this 'family' and you're at the bottom of the list."
"Oh? And who is at the top?" Peter asks fondly. Leaning his head on his propped fist.
"Me. Obviously." She rolls her eyes. Taking a bite into Peter's sandwich.
Puckering her lips, she rushed to grab a napkin. Letting the partly chewed bread fall out her mouth. "That is absolutely disgusting." Sophia scrunches her face and gags. "Disgusting."
Peter chuckles and ruffles her hair much to her annoyance. "Come on! You got to give it a chance. You're too picky."
Peter cuts off another piece. Making sure to get all the vegetables in it this time. "Try one more bite. Just one more and I'll let it go and you can go back to your boring plain grilled cheese."
"It's not just a grilled cheese. There's ham in it too." Sophia grumbles. Eyeing the hovering piece of sandwich.
He waves the offending piece of food in her face. Yellow sauce squeezing out the sides and dripping down onto the table. She twists her mouth to the side and glares into his brown eyes.
"I'm going to disown you too."
She yanks the mini sandwich out of his hands and pops it into her mouth. Cringing when the sauce bursts into her mouth. Tangy and bitter. This time she chugs her water to choke it down.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Sophia sits at the kitchen island at the Avengers Compound. Tongue out and feet swinging as she tries to perfectly pipe white icing on to one of the many gingerbread people in front of her. A few burned on the edges and others covered in greens, red, and white icing.
Clint Barton's hands gently lay over hers around the piping bag. Guiding her own while Friday plays a holiday mix in the background. The white outline of the gingerbread women is wobbly and not perfectly alighting on the sides but she's proud of it nonetheless.
Sophia smiles. Flexing her fingers underneath Barton's and feeling the bag squish against her palm.
"Don't squeeze too hard. You're going to make it —"
Ploooop
"You're going to make it do that." Clint sighs. Their joint hands are now covered in royal icing. The gingerbread woman is now being buried alive. Never to be seen again.
"Well," Sophia starts, loosening up her hands. "She's just playing in the snow now. Snow angels."
Clint nods his head and moves to wet a couple of paper towels. Careful to avoid getting icing on the sink handle. "That's one way to look at it."
"Let's dump sprinkles on top! White ones so it looks like snow." Sophia kicks her feet back and forth. Tossing the torn icing bag into the sink.
"Once this mess is cleaned up, sure. Now give me your hands and get to work picking this up before your dad gets here."
"Yeah, he's still mad at Cap for the coffee grounds in the sink." Sophia jumps off her stool in front of the kitchen island. Keeping her hands in the air.
"What's with him and coffee grounds? I keep hearing that too." Clint grabs her hands and brushes the damp paper towel over them.
Shrugging, Sophia smiles. "Something about the garbage disposal. We should create a garden for Steve for Christmas. I heard that coffee grounds are great for plants to grow. Steve has a place for coffee ground that's not a sink and dad has a clean sink. Then they'll both be happy."
"Sophia Maria Stark!"
Sophia and Clint freeze in place. Hands in the air and wrapped in a paper towel ball. "Uh oh."
"What did you do now?" Clint sighs, leaning back into the kitchen island.
Sophia shrugs and lets her wad of paper towels fall onto the counter. Hands still sticky but free of the icing. "I don't know. I've been here all day."
The archer gave her a blank stare with a raised brow. Sophia grins.
She feels a slight tug on her hair, stern but gentle, causing her to throw her head back. Tony's unamused eyes look towering over her.
"Hi, daddy." Sophia gives him a toothy grin.
"Nuh uh. No. Don't 'hi daddy' me. Why was there a seven hundred dollar charge to my account yesterday? Thought you were going to the trampoline park?"
"We did."
"The account says it's for a deli."
"How the hell — heck, did you spend seven hundred at a deli? Did you eat gold?" Clint interrupts. In the process of dumping out all the burnt gingerbread men.
"No." Sophia shakes her head out of her dads grip. "I was tired of walking."
"What, so you paid someone at the deli to carry you?" Tony asked, incredulously. Raking his hand in his hair.
"No, but I should have." Sophia grumbles. "I'm pretty sure the deli man would have done it." Clint laughs at her only to choke it down because Tony sets his glare on him.
"So how exactly did you spend seven hundred dollars at a deli, Sophia?"
"Honestly, it's actually Peter's fault." She pouts, crossing her arms and raising her chin. If Peter had just swooshed them instead of forcing her to walk all over New York she wouldn't have felt compelled to over pay for a chair.
It wasn't even a comfortable chair.
"Sophia." A warning.
She deflates. "But it really is his fault… I was tired! I wanted to sit and the deli man let us use the break room and so I tipped him extra. It wasn't just food. He said he could use the money to go on vacation."
Clint grasps her dad's shoulders. "See Tony, the holiday spirit moved her. She just wanted to help a guy out." Clint laughs when Tony shrugs him off.
"You should have seen the store dad! It was horrid and small and messy. Nothing was organized. As a small up and coming business owner he could use the donation."
Sophia winces when Clint's laughter booms across the room.
"Okay, okay, Sophia. I think he gets it." Clint clasps her shoulders. "You were very…kind to help him out for the holidays."
Not really, she thinks. She just genuinely wanted to sit. She's not used to walking as a means of transportation. She's always had drivers or hero's to fly her places. She didn't even walk around their backyard. Giving away to charity was just an added bonus.
The look in Tony's eyes tells her he very clearly knows that too.
"Now I'm not going to ground you. What you did was technically a nice gesture."
Sophia perks up.
"However, you're still getting punished. No chauffeur for a week."
"Damn it." She quickly slaps her hands over her mouth. Clint now bends over the counter with laughter.
"Now you're grounded."
end of Interlude ii ; the last adventure
word count 3.518