"Want me to get the kid?" Happy asked, his arms crossed, voice tinged with impatience.

Pepper shook her head and glanced at the time. They could afford to spend a few minutes waiting. "I want to watch them for a minute."

Happy huffed but stayed at her side, pulling out his phone and scowling at whatever was on the screen. He wasn't the least bit interested in what was happening in the compound gym below, but Pepper was.

Pepper didn't fault the man for his excessive huffiness. It had been an intense week. As SI's head of security, Happy had been working nonstop to overhaul security at the tower ahead of the move. Pepper's own to-do list was threatening to collapse and smother her like a falling stack of accumulated junk in a hoarder's apartment. Only, instead of junk, it was endless tasks from Tony that Pepper found herself collecting.

She stood by the large observation windows, watching the sparring session unfold beneath them. Inside the gym, Peter was on the mat, Natasha Romanoff pinning him down with effortless precision. She wasn't exerting much effort—just showing him where his leverage was, talking him through a reversal.

Peter moved through the steps she demonstrated, his mouth set in a firm, tense line. When it came time for him to throw her off… he barely shoved at her.

Natasha scowled. She didn't budge.

Pepper couldn't hear through the glass, but she could see the irritation settle over Nat's expression like a storm cloud. Whatever she said made Peter tense further, his hands curling into hesitant fists before dropping back to his sides in frustration.

Pepper turned to Happy, incredulous. "Doesn't he have superstrength?"

Happy, still looking at his phone, took a single glance and snorted. "He's afraid to hurt her."

Oh. That explained a lot.

Natasha was clearly unimpressed with Peter's reluctance. She hated when people held back. She took it personally.

"I'm pretty sure Natasha can handle anything he throws at her." Pepper had seen her take down much bigger, much stronger opponents. Nat knew how to use an enemy's strength against them—she'd spent time training with Steve, after all.

Happy shrugged. "Kid doesn't know that."

Peter looked downright miserable now, shoulders drawn tight, gaze fixed on the floor. Whatever stalemate they'd hit, he wasn't going to push past it today.

Natasha must have realized that, too. With a sharp shake of her head, she stood, dusting off her hands. Peter followed a moment later, still not meeting her eyes.

Pepper took that as her cue and pushed the door open, stepping into the gym. Happy followed.

Peter barely glanced up at their arrival. He nodded in their direction but kept his gaze downcast, his bare feet shifting against the mat.

"Happy. Miss Potts." His voice was quiet. "Good to see you."

Nat waved a dismissive hand. "He's free to go. We've hit an impasse, and I don't think we'll make any more progress today."

Peter flushed, his shoulders hunching slightly, and he mumbled something Pepper couldn't quite catch. Nat, perhaps sensing his embarrassment, softened slightly. She squeezed his shoulder. "We'll pick this up again later."

It was bewildering to see the highly capable teen humbled by such an easy self-defense move.

Happy didn't think anything about the situation was odd and breathed a sigh of relief. "Great. Let's go, kid. We're a little pressed for time. Conference room's cleared for you two."

Peter's gaze snapped up. "For me? Why?"

Pepper noted the slight anxiety in his voice and quickly reassured him. "I wanted to speak to you about your plans this year. School stuff."

Peter raised his eyebrows incredulously. "School stuff?"

Happy groaned. "Do you plan on repeating everything we say, kid?"

Peter shot him a flat look. "Just the things that don't make any sense."

Happy rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about "kids these days."

They reached the conference room, and Happy opened the door. FRIDAY turned on the lights. "Call me when you're done," Happy said. "I need to grab some things for Tony."

"From the workshop or the lab?" Peter asked immediately.

"None of your business."

"I'll go with you."

Happy narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want you contaminating my polymer experiments."

The sheer audacity of that statement had Happy blinking in disbelief. "Take a seat. Miss Potts wants to talk to you." He turned on his heel, muttering again about "kids these days" as he left.

Peter, in an act of pure teenage rebellion, parroted the words right back at him, mimicking Happy with uncanny accuracy. His rendition of the man's grumpy grimace and intonation were spot on and, unfortunately, loud enough for Happy to hear. The head of security harumphed loudly from the hallway but, thankfully, did not return.

Pepper barely resisted rolling her eyes at the moody pair. "Peter, if you're done antagonizing Happy, please sit down."

The boy immediately complied, but there was something off about him. Now that she was watching closely, Pepper saw the tension in his posture.

Pepper wasted no time as she spread an array of brochures in front of the sullen teen. She knew teenagers could be temperamental, but Pepper had never seen Peter quite like this. He never snapped at Happy before. The kid seemed irritated and on edge one moment, and then downright fearful the next.

"I wanted to let you know that we have all the paperwork ready to enroll you into a school for the fall. However, there isn't a lot of time if you want to try for one of the specialized schools. You're going to have to make a decision soon if you plan on starting the year on time."

Peter nodded warily. "Okay. What are the options?"

Pepper gave him a warm smile and scooted closer. What had this kid so spooked? Was he nervous about school?

She smiled, nudging the stack toward him. "Plenty of STEM-based schools, but maybe you'd prefer a performing arts school? I hear you have a talent for impressions."

Peter huffed a small, reluctant laugh but didn't reach for the brochures. "Performing arts? Because I can impersonate Happy?"

"That, and Natasha says you're an impressive tumbler."

Peter shrugged. "She keeps me busy. They all do, lately."

Pepper nodded. Tony's absence at the compound had apparently left some rather large shoes to fill. It took morning runs with Steve, lab time with Bruce, and gym time with Nat to keep Peter occupied in Tony's stead.

"Tony should be back soon." Pepper reassured him with another smile.

Peter looked away at the mention of his erstwhile mentor, grimacing. He cleared his throat. "What grade will I be in?"

"You need to take a placement test."

Peter's expression soured. "Great."

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "From what Tony has mentioned, you'll do just fine."

"Are these schools very far away?"

"From here? Um, well, a bit." Pepper frowned, trying to grasp what it was Peter was concerned about.

The kid looked completely dejected as he picked up the brochure from the top of the stack and starting skimming through it.

He stilled, brow furrowing. "This is in Manhattan."

Pepper nodded. "Yes. The schools I picked are all within 45 minutes of the Tower. I didn't want you to have too far of a commute."

Peter's head whipped up. "The tower? But, I thought that's where Tony was moving?"

"Yes." Pepper frowned and spoke slowly, trying to find the source of all the confusion. "That's why you'll be moving there as well."

Peter stared, mouth agape. "Does Stark know that?"

Pepper laughed. "Of course. He's your guardian."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Miss Potts, but Stark hasn't actually been filling that position, lately."

"Hmm, yes. Well, Tony doesn't always communicate well, and sometimes he disappears when he gets a new idea in his head. But I assure you, he's aware you're moving into the tower with him. It was his idea."

Peter looked dubious enough that Pepper wondered if she was missing something.

"Did something happen?"

Peter looked uncomfortable and Pepper pressed on. "When Tony came back to the tower last week, I was a little surprised he stayed for so long. The two of you were thick as thieves last time I dropped by the compound."

Peter said nothing, just looked blankly at the pamphlet in front of him. Pepper searched the boy's face but he gave little away.

She sighed and took a very educated stab in the dark. "Tony is easily spooked, you know."

Peter snorted. "Right."

"No, he is. People have this view of him being impervious, because of Iron Man. And he is, to an extent. He's single-minded and determined, and very brave. But things like this," She gestured between them, "being responsible for someone, being a … guardian… that sort of thing is intimidating to him. He thinks he's going to mess up. And he likes you enough that the thought of messing up probably terrifies him."

Peter was very still and quiet as he listened. "He hasn't messed up. I have."

Pepper smiled gently. "I doubt he sees it that way." She reached forward and gave his hand a squeeze. "He'll come around."

"I don't need him to come around. I'm fine on my own." Peter scowled but it came across more like a pout and Pepper wanted to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair and hug him, he was so adorable.

But teens do not like to be called adorable when they are trying to convince you they are strong and independent and "fine on their own."

"He'll come around." She asserted. "In the meantime," Pepper pushed the brochures toward Peter.

It was a good selection. Bronx High School of Science, Brooklyn Latin School, Stuyvesant, Midtown School of Science and Technology, Staten Island Tech… Peter rifled through them.

"How do I pick?"

"Let me know which ones stand out to you and I'll arrange some tours."

"I'll visit Midtown."

"Just like that?" Pepper raised her eyebrows. Peter shrugged.

"You don't want to look at these a little longer?"

"I like their mascot. And does it really matter? Isn't this all heavily dependent on me passing a test?"

"Yes, the SHSAT. And perhaps if you were more interested in Stuy, or any of the other schools that have a heavier emphasis on the humanities, I'd advise you to study first, and maintain reasonable expectations. But a science school? Honey, you spend your free time building robots with Tony Stark and mixing God-knows-what compounds with Dr. Bruce Banner. You'll be fine."

"Banner doesn't work with me much actually. He's too busy studying something else."

"Oh, really? What's Bruce studying these days?"

Peter smirked. "Me."

Pepper raised surprised eyebrows. "You?"

"He usually has one of my physical exam results up, or an analysis of that drug they used on me, or my entire genome map, or…"

"Hold on, are you okay with that? That sounds a little… intrusive."

Peter just shrugged again, apparently unconcerned. "Pretty sure that's what Stark was spending his nights at the compound doing, too. I'm like a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Any scientist would be falling over themself to get the chance to study me."

Pepper was struck by the sad implication. Did Peter really think his value to his mentors could be summed up as a puzzle to solve? What did he think would happen once they figured him out? Cast him aside? Puzzle complete?

"You know what? Let's do all this tomorrow." Pepper stood abruptly and swatted Peter's leg with a rolled up academic catalog. "You're coming with me."

"What about all this school stuff?"

"You chose already. Midtown Tech Tigers. I'll arrange a tour tomorrow. Come on, we only have an hour before Gibby's Ice closes, and I could kill for some rocky road in a waffle cone."

The teen's eyes widened. "What? You want me to come?"

"I can't sit at Gibby's and eat ice cream and gummy worms by myself. That would be weird. Better if I had a kid with me."

"Well, you're out of luck in that case. I don't know that I pass for a kid."

Pepper stood back, assessing the boy in front of her. He did look a little older than his years, especially his eyes. Pepper hated to think what might have caused that. She didn't want to know what strong influence had etched those hard lines and tension into his face. Whatever it was, even amnesia couldn't fully eliminate the muscle memory of the haunted expression he often wore. His was a face that had seen—and felt—difficult things, even if his mind couldn't remember it. But even under all that, there was an obvious sweetness to Peter.

Pepper reached out and ruffled his hair. "You'll do, kid."