New Beginnings
Tony is in his lab, as he normally is, with his palm over his chin and his eyes watering from the continual exposure to light. He feels like he's reached a dead end in his desperate search for information on Spider-Man. There is nothing out there. All he knows is that whoever is behind the mask is still alive, assuming the hundreds of tweets about him helping a lady cross the street that evening are real.
Tired, he thinks it's time to call it quits for the evening. He comes upstairs, leaves his own floor, and is surprised to discover that no one is in the communal kitchen other than Cooper, the oldest Barton kid. Cooper sits on one of the seats, staring at his phone and spooning cereal into his mouth without glancing down. He’s sat in a pair of Hawkeye pyjamas (which is weirdly warming). The legs of the pants are too short for him and Tony wonders if it’s because Clint is still in denial that his kid is going to be taller than him given a few years.
Tony furrows his brow as he looks down at his watch. It is just gone 6AM. The sun is still down yet glimpses of its light starts to fade into the window to make itself known. Tony is usually awake at this hour. It's a part of his daily regimen at this point. He'll make his way upstairs and wave Steve off for his morning run before throwing himself into bed and burrowing under the covers. But seeing Cooper here was different. An anomaly in his routine; something a scientist like himself doesn’t appreciate.
What teenager willingly pulled themselves up from their comfortable bed to eat cereal this early in the morning? Hell, Tony hardly knew adults that did that. And especially looking so glumly. Seriously, how did someone make Cheerios look so… not cheery? But what if Clint didn’t want Tony to push himself in the middle of his kid’s problems? So, he decides that the best thing to do was to stay out of it.
There were multiple reasons why it was a bad idea to speak up.
1: Tony cannot express his own emotions. How would he advise a kid to do the same?
2: He’ll probably make the kid uncomfortable. What if he wasn’t even sad?
3: He’d rather go up to bed.
But just as he tries to sneak past the kitchen door, forgetting about his sudden want for a coffee, he hears a small voice. Turning around, he sees Cooper looking up at him with wide eyes and a worried face. His hands are tight around his phone, and if he bit his lip any harder then they’d start having issues. Tony sighs.
“Do you want me to go and get your dad?” he asks. Good, first port of call is to push the responsibility on another. It doesn’t work though, not like it usually would. Pepper would say he had it coming. All that happens is Cooper turns paler than he already was. “Uh, okay. Your mom? Bruce? He’s a doctor you know- good with…talking and stuff.”
Cooper shakes his head again.
“Right. Okay. Well, then. Start speaking or I won’t have a clue how to help you. Will I?” Tony asks. He gets up on the stool that’s beside Cooper, stealing some of his cereal. “What?” he says when he gives him a pointed look. “I’m hungry. I’m eating or you’re not talking, okay?”
“Okay,” Cooper says.
“Oh! He speaks!” Tony says back, his mouth still full of his second mouthful. “What’s go you so down in the dumps, kiddo? Is it money? I have a lot of that. They say it solves most of the world’s problems. Creates them too, though.”
“No,” Cooper says, a frown on his face. “I-I don’t need that.”
Tony hums. “Well, that makes one person then,” he says. “Come on, kid. Spit it out, would you? As much as my youthful glow would confuse you, I don’t have all the time in the world.”
“I want to go to school.”
Now… that wasn’t what he was expecting. When the kids first moved in, Laura had been worried about how they’d get the education they deserved now that they were away from their home. So Tony set them up with the best tutors that his money could reach. However, apparently that wasn’t enough for these kids.
“School?”
Cooper nods.
“Right,” Tony says, doubtful. He looks over at Cooper and studies his face. “I think I was right when I called you an agent when we first met.” He gets up from the stool and stands with his hands on his hips. “Hm,” he hums. “School? Really?”
“Yes!”
“Man. The best facilities in the world, the best tutors. Thousands of dollars. Lab equipment. Anything you could dream of,” Tony says to himself. He looks back up at Cooper who had a short, almost shy, smile over his face. “And you… you want to go out there into school with other kids. Kids are cruel. Did you know that Cooper?”
“I do love it here. I do, Mr Stark. It’s just- a bit suffocating, and I just want to talk with people my own age other than my sister.”
“…What does your dad have to say about this? Is there a reason you don’t want to talk to him?” Tony asks, walking back up to where Cooper is still sat.
He knows the answer when he sees Cooper's face slump. Clint is completely against the idea. Tony understands it's because he's terrified of something horrible happening to his son. Tony is confused as to why Clint is so protective, but it might just be Clint's instinctive paternal instincts. Something Tony will never have. Cooper needs to get some fresh air, and though going to school may not seem like the best option, Tony doesn't see why not.
“I’ll speak to him, kid,” Tony sighs. Even if he really doesn’t want to, he’ll do it.
“Thank you, Mr Stark!” Cooper grins. He gets up and opens his arms for a hug.
Tony recoils, leaving Cooper ‘high and dry’, standing there with an awkward smile as Tony turns and walks to the door. “He hasn’t said yes yet, kid… so don’t get too excited.”
Later in the day
It’s 12PM now. Tony’s been awake since he spoke with Cooper that morning. He hasn’t slept a wink as he thought over what he’d say to his teammate.
The sun is now up. Has been for a while. The birds are awake and chirping, yet they’re unable to distract him from his thoughts.
He sits on the side of the team’s pool, refusing to go in because of bad trauma with water. Although he’d never tell them that. Clint’s showing Lila and Scott how to perfect their archery skills outside. Scott’s not doing so good. Lila is.
It’s not like Cooper’s burdened him with the biggest secret known to man. But as soon as Tony said he’d help, he’s had this pressure in stomach that he can’t seem to shift. He presses down on the bottom of his gut to try and relive some of the stress, his eyes fluttering shut. He tries to imagine a pina colada by the beach with Pepper sunbathing next to him.
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt Clint. He doesn’t want to rush in and tell him how to parent his children. Because he has no clue in that department. Not only has he never experienced it as a parent, but he never saw good parenting as a child. But Cooper asked him to help, and he wasn’t just going to abandon that because he got scared.
Deciding he needed a drink, the imaginary pina colada too good to forget, he gets up from the pool house and rushes to the kitchen. He pours his second most expensive scotch he was going to save for a special occasion (it was the last one in his cupboard, somehow) into an equally as expensive glass.
“This is becoming too much of a habit, Tony,” Bruce says. He’s headfirst in his laptop, probably scouring the emails or playing minesweeper. He looks Tony up and down, pushes his glasses against the ridge of his nose and sighs. “It’s none of my business, but-“
“You’re right. It’s not. So… how about I have my nice drink that I’ve just poured for myself, and you stay out it.”
“Tony…”
“Sorry,” Tony says. He puts the glass down on the side beside Bruce. Bruce takes it and pours the drink into the sink. They’ve had this conversation so many times that Tony should be able to recall what they’re both about to say. Bruce has been worried about his drinking since New York, his habit only increasing after Ultron. He knows it might be too much- but sometimes all he needs to relieve stress is a nice sip of whatever alcohol is beside him. “I know. I’ll try harder. It’s just- it’s not Clint’s fault, of course, but having the kids here… I’m struggling.”
“What about that is making you struggle the most do you think?”
Tony shakes his head. He grabs the now empty glass and pours water into it instead. “I’m not getting into this right now. I haven’t signed up for your therapy sessions. Give it another month at least.” Tony takes a sip of water, putting it back down. He puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Bruce?”
“Yeah?”
“Cooper… he asked me for some help. It’s something his dad doesn’t want him to do, and I said that I’d talk to Clint about it. Is… is that stepping over the line? I don’t want to… you know, intrude or anything.”
“I think that’s perfectly fine, Tony. It’s nice to see you helping them out.”
Just as Tony was about to reply, he sees Bruce’s eyes glancing over his shoulder. Turning around, he sees Clint stood in the doorway with a bow over his shoulder. Lila runs past him, grabbing a piece of fruit. Oblivious to the staring match her father and Tony were having, she says goodbye to the three of them and walks in the direction of her room.
“What did he ask you about?” Clint says. He doesn’t look angry. But you can never tell with Clint. And it’s not like there’s anything to really be angry at. Tony hadn’t done anything wrong. Cooper asked him for help, and he accepted. There’s nothing wrong with that. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Tony’s quick to answer, hoping that Clint is reassured that is son is perfectly safe. “It’s nothing crazy. At all. Trivial, really. All is good.”
“Then what is it? Tony, come on.”
“He just wants to go back to school…”
Tony looks at Clint go from worried to annoyed. He looks at Tony and groans, clearly having gone through this conversation before with Cooper. Bruce looks between them both and quickly filters out the room, leaving his laptop behind.
“Traitor!” Tony calls after him, before turning back to Clint with a sheepish smile. “…It would be good for him, Clint.”
“I know what’s good for my son,” Clint says, “and going out there- with God knows who’s watching them- isn’t. He’s getting perfectly good schooling here and that’s final. This is what’s best for him, okay?”
Clint goes to walk away. Tony stands in front of him to stop him. “I’m sorry- but I don’t agree with you.”
“And how would you know that? You haven’t got kids, and you sure as hell didn’t have a normal childhood yourself,” Clint snaps. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me recently, Tony, but this is nothing to do with you. Okay? Just stay out of it.”
"...He's lonely. When I got up from the lab at 6 a.m., he was sitting here with the saddest expression on his face,” Tony says, looking down at the stools in front of them. “I'm aware that I don't know much about children or, for that matter, other adults. As you mentioned, I had a terrible upbringing with parents who couldn't care less about me. It's comforting to see that you care so much. But it makes you stubborn.”
“Stubborn? What because I don’t hate my kids like your dad did? I’m not sending him away to be killed.”
Tony hides the pain those words cause him. “Clint, he's a kid. Consider it from his perspective. He's confined to this building all day, every day, with just his younger siblings and parents to keep him company. So- just… have a proper think about it, okay?” He says. “And whilst you do- don’t make assumptions about my life that you have no clue about.”
Tony enters his room, slamming the door behind him. He sits on the edge of his bed, over his duvet, as the familiar buzz of a panic attack hits him. He didn't want Clint to hate him. However, every friendship he ever had typically went that way (except for Rhodey). It was a sure thing that the Avengers would eventually face the same fate.
He ignores calls from Rhodey and Pepper, drinking a bottle from the side of his bed that has been there for weeks. Clint’s pissed him off, but the weird thing is that he still believes he did the right thing. He can’t keep Cooper shut up inside like a prisoner, even if it might be the safest place for him. It’s hypocritical, especially since they called him out for doing the same to Wanda during the beginning of the Sokovia accords.
He's lying on his bed, hours later, with the ideas of his last conversation running through his mind. Did he say the right thing? Bruce seemed to think he hadn’t crossed the line, and Bruce was one of the few people in the world that Tony could trust with anything. But then Clint had looked at him like he’d stabbed him in the back over something as simple as his son’s schooling. It hurt, because if he reacted like that over such a small thing then how could Tony trust him with worse?
There's a light knock on his bedroom door, which he decides to ignore at first. However, the knocking continues, and whomever is behind it refuses to stop. With a groan, he asks Friday to turn on the lights and open the door. When he sees Clint coming in, he tries hard not to walk out stubbornly like he did as a teenager when his mother would scold him for disagreeing with his father. But then he sees Laura behind him, her face a picture of anger. It reminds him of the exact face his mother would give him in those said arguments. Fiery and tired, knowing how easily it might all be set right (although she never knew the extent of Howard’s words, so she didn’t know that it could never be set right in their case).
“Clint has something he’d like to say,” Laura says.
“…I’m sorry, Tony.”
“And why’s that, Clint?” she says, hand on her hip. She really doesn’t look happy. It makes Tony laugh underneath his breath.
“I took out my worries on you and said things I didn’t mean. You were just trying to help our son, and I overacted.”
“And we’d like you to be the one that tells Cooper that we both decided that he’ll be allowed to choose his school,” Laura smiles.
Tony stops, a puzzled expression on his face. The kid can now go to school. That's fantastic news. But why would they believe he'd want to tell Cooper? Tony was only a bystander, a go-between between two unwilling parties. He doesn't even know the kid; why would he even want to start that conversation? How is he going to convince him that Midtown Tech is best suited? It has the greatest cafeteria, scientific laboratories, and after-school groups, all of which he would like. It has a pleasant atmosphere and is not too far from the compound. It is not overcrowded since entry demands a particular GPA and a test that every student must pass. Only kids of his IQ will be there.
…So maybe he researched it a bit and would know a lot… but, still, Tony still thinks the news is best coming from the kid’s parents.
“That’s fine. I’ll just make sure all his bills are paid, and we’ll get a driver sorted for him. Just let me know where he decides. Oh, and tell him to go Midtown. Say that Tony thinks it’s the best place,” Tony says. He looks at the two of them. His face reddens, and their stares start to make him sweat. “I appreciate the apology, but I am going to bed now. Got a lot to invent and research tomorrow… so…”
Laura casts a frown over to where he’s sat. Tony now feels as if he is one of her children, because she understands his limits and mood swings so well. As a result of his silence and therefore an obvious want to be alone, Clint and Laura say their goodbyes. Tony is out like a light as soon as the door shuts.
The rest of the day becomes a blur to him- his stress too much to handle. If he thinks about it, he’ll drink- and he knows Bruce would have something to say. It’s best to leave it... He hopes that when his eyesight fades to dark, maybe he would be able to forget about all his troubles, but that has always been wishful thinking.
But he tries anyway. After all, he’s still got a spider to catch.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter, two weeks later
Peter stands impatiently outside Ned's house, his foot tapping against the ‘welcome’ mat. It's a lovely home. Excellent brickwork, with a gorgeous red door reminiscent of Peter's suit. There are several broad, double-glazed windows that let in plenty of light. His home is near the end of the street, with a wider driveway than most, which can accommodate three cars. It's a lot nicer than Peter's little, cramped flat with a leak. That is for certain.
But as much as it’s a nice house, Peter really didn’t want to spend his whole morning staring at it.
He has places to be. Correction, they have places to be. School starts in under ten minutes and they have an eight-minute walk from Ned’s house. Which means they won’t have time to do their morning debrief. And they won’t have time to do that at break since Peter’s given the task to show the new person around today. Therefore, there is no time at all to tell Ned about his crazy evening fighting crime.
He could do it on their walk, but it would be rushed, and Ned is the sort of person who enjoys the intricacies of little things. So he'll have to tell him through FaceTime when May leaves for work that evening. Or if Peter comes over for dinner they could speak about it at his. It’s a pity that they must wait so long since it was a great night for locking up criminals.
Peter is usually picked to give the new kid a tour. He's kind, calm, and presumably a 'good representation' of Midtown. He's lost track of the number of new people he's seen in and then lost to other groups after a day or so. It's OK, though. He has Ned and occasionally MJ, so that's all he'll ever need. It's only a bit embarrassing that they're dumped in the mud for people like Flash Thompson. What does Flash have to offer except flashy cars, a lot of money, and parties?
That’s something Peter will never understand.
His entire body is still aching from being slammed against the side of that building. The fingerprints are gone, but he still walks with a limp. May hasn't noticed yet, and Peter wonders whether Ned is simply tuning everything out now. If he didn't, he'd probably worry more than he should, which would be bad for the both of them. He puts those thoughts to the side as the door finally opens.
When Ned walks out, he’s carrying his backpack upside down (luckily, it’s zipped up), his shoelaces are undone, and he’s forgot to gel his hair. Peter knows he’s been up all night playing on his PS4. He can see it in his eyes. If he wasn’t tying his shoelaces he’d probably be pressing ‘phantom’ buttons, his brain still under the impression that he was in front of that TV.
“I forgot it was a school night,” Ned says, as if he knew what Peter was about to accuse him of. “It’s not like you weren’t up at the same time.”
“There’s a difference,” Peter says, accepting the muffin that Ned has already given him.
They don't even bring it up anymore. It's natural for Ned to smuggle something to Peter every morning. It was either because May couldn't afford to feed Peter breakfast that week, or because Peter's metabolism was acting up, but it was their routine. They act in conjunction with muscle memory, similar to how Ned plays those games or their secret handshake. Everything simply occurs, which is how Peter prefers it.
Sure, change can be good. But it can also be scary. Right now, he likes it how it is. Life’s good for the first time since Ben passed away. And knowing his luck, that could change very quickly. So, he’d like to enjoy it whilst he can.
“How?” Ned complains, finally finishing his shoelaces. He gets his backpack on properly, trailing behind Peter as they walk quickly down the busy streets towards their school. “Oh, would you slow down- we’ve got like five minutes to get there.”
“And now- because you’ve made me wait for so long- it’s gone down to four- so, hurry up,” Peter says, speeding on. “And it’s different because my late-night activity involves saving lives, and yours involves running over them.”
“Well, now you’ve made me sound weird to people passing by,” Ned complains, catching up as soon as Peter slows down. Realising it’s unfair to expect someone to keep up with him, Peter takes fewer steps… even if it makes him anxious to do so. “People might be listening. They’ll think I actually run people over in real life and not GTA.”
“To us?” Peter scoffs. “I could say anything out of the ordinary- something like I was an alien from out of space- and nobody would even bat an eyelash. Nobody sees us, Ned. They sure as hell don’t listen.”
“You’re making it sound like we’re complete outcasts,” Ned laughs, manoeuvring around a vast group of people waiting to cross the road as Peter just walks across it. (Peter has his spider senses- if someone was to run him over, he’d know).
“I am Ned, and I have super hearing strength!” Ned shouts across the road where Peter is stood waiting for him.
Nobody says anything, but a few people look about, puzzled. Enhanced people are generally recognised now, unlike when Tony declared to the world that he was Iron Man. But it's still humiliating for Ned. Peter imagined how strange it would be if a random kid approached him and exclaimed, "I have super strength!" Aside from second-hand embarrassment, he'd definitely try and walk away as fast as he could.
Ned blushes a deep red, but they don’t talk about the fact that he’s already embarrassed himself before 9AM. Peter’s taken to the headmaster’s office as soon as he steps inside his forum room. Saying goodbye to Ned, he walks over with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His eyes widen when he sees the two bodyguards in front of the door. It’s not normally like this when a new student starts…
“Name?” one of them says.
He’s quite distinctively a bodyguard, the guy that speaks up. Broad shoulders, nice suit. Sunglasses that tie the whole vibe together. He looks at Peter like he’s trying to burn a hole in his shirt, and Peter starts to feel his whole body heat up. So, instead of staring blankly up at his face… he realises he should probably start speaking.
“Peter,” he answers.
The man nods, but he doesn’t move. Peter looks at them- weirded out. Is he still asleep? Was he the one who was late… because this isn’t happening? Right? There’s no way a kid this powerful would choose Midtown. Yes, it’s a good school. Good grades, good facilities, and in a nice area- but for someone who has bodyguards with them… there are fancier places to go.
“Did I get my own name wrong? Because I’d assume that once you knew I was the right person then you’d like… I don’t know… move? No offence, but I’d only expect this treatment for the Queen of England.” Peter pauses. He puts his hand over his mouth in mock surprise. “Oh my god, am I about to meet royalty? I’m not quite one-hundred yet, so it can’t be the personal delivery of my 100th birthday letter… can it? If not, she’s a bit old for high school. I’ve never seen someone in their nighties in Algebra before.”
“We’re not in England,” the other bodyguard says, eyes flickering from Peter and the other, more stubborn, bodyguard. “You won’t get a letter.”
“Touché,” Peter shrugs.
There’s more silence. Peter decides he doesn’t enjoy that.
“Are you really not going to tell me who I’m meeting? I feel like I’m about to be murdered,” Peter groans, now sat on the armchairs. He could feel his eyes shutting. He was so bored. It had been ten minutes since he’s been called up to the office, and nothing’s happened yet. He was so bored.
“If you don’t stop talking then you might be,” the first, grumpy man, says. “Just wait for them to finish and then it’s time for you to meet him.”
“Who hurt you?”
Before Peter’s hilarious comment was comprehended, the doors open, and Peter sees a boy his age standing in the room with just one woman beside him. His mother… maybe. He walks in with a big smile, sitting in the chair which is open. Mr Mortia glances over at him, giving him a look that screams ‘be on your best behaviour or else’.
“Peter, this is Cooper. His dad is someone very important- so important that you’re not allowed to know who- unless he decides that you can. I had to choose my most trustworthy student for this- so we thought you’d be best,” he explains. “You’ll also be his partner in the group project in our English class that’s coming up next week, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great. Now- Pete, take Cooper to class,” he says, turning his attention to what has to be Cooper’s mom. “And Mrs- Laura…? Well, Laura- I promise you it’ll be fine.”
Both Cooper and Peter walk out. Peter on the right, Cooper on the left as he waves goodbye to his bodyguards. He calls the grumpy one ‘Happy’, and Peter has to resist the urge to laugh as they finally step into the corridor. It’s just them at last. Peter has many questions, but if his dad is as famous as they’re suggesting then he doesn’t want to get a hitman placed on him. So he stays quiet.
“I swear I’m normal,” Cooper finally says. “My dad- he just worries, and we had a security threat recently. So… he’s a bit on edge.”
“That’s fine,” Peter smiles. “I’m totally not normal though, so don’t worry about having to impress me. My name’s Peter. I’m sure they already said that… but I bet it’s nicer to hear it from me then all of those lot.”
“It’s a lot nicer,” Cooper smiles. “The name’s Cooper.”
“Awesome. Great to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”
In the blink of an eye, hours pass. Cooper, strangely, is still sitting next to Ned and Peter. This happens every now and again, when the new person can't find someone else to take them on. This time, though, things are different. He's engaging, smiling, and talking about the new Star Wars TV show that premiered last week as if he's been here for years. Have they finally made a new friend? (They weren't entirely alone, but everyone else felt more like an acquaintance or a co-worker. Cooper already felt like a friend).
MJ sits with them as well today. Although she doesn’t talk much, she sketches in her book and has a real, authentic, smile when Cooper compliments her work and tells her how much he’s interested in art too. It’s nice to see his friends all interacting with each other- Cooper fitting in like a missing puzzle piece. Peter’s sure there might even be a future there for the four of them.
Cooper’s following Peter’s class schedule whilst they get settled in. Ned isn’t in all their classes, unfortunately, so as lunch ends, he leaves first as he walks to the other side of the school for science. Peter grabs his backpack, straining as he lands on his foot a bit too fast. He gives Cooper a smile as his new friend (hopefully) gives him a concerned look.
“We’ve got English with Mr Morita now,” Peter says. “If I told you to take a shot every time that he mentions his grandad fought alongside Captain America and the Winter Solider… well you’d probably have to be dragged out of the school. Probably straight into an ambulance. That amount of drink would give you alcohol poisoning.”
“He says it a lot then?” Cooper laughs, grabbing his own bag (which, wow, that’s definitely designer and Peter should probably be careful not to bump into him in case he accidently scratches the fabric).
“All the time. It’s like he doesn’t have any other personality traits.”
It is, indeed, mentioned twice in the first twenty minutes of the class. But, after that's out of the way, he assigns them the duty of reading a book and preparing a presentation based on what it teaches us about war. Peter joins forces with Cooper and is immediately embarrassed by the state of his home when they inevitably have to study at his. If the bodyguards were so rigorous about his first day of attending school, there was no way they'd let Peter into their home.
He gets a bit fidgety. As Mr Morita goes through everything they need to include, he taps his pen against his desk. The anxiety makes the pain in his body feel worse somehow. Cooper is grinning, as if he's ecstatic to be here—as if the whole thing is a luxury vacation. Which is odd since Peter doesn't know anyone his age that wants to come in and enjoy every minute of school. Peter thought he was optimistic, that he was happy and content to be with other people- but Cooper was something else.
They exchange numbers at the end of the day and Peter’s surprised when Cooper goes in for a hug and expresses his thankfulness for how welcoming he’s been to Midtown. Ned watches with a small smirk on his face which is wiped when the same thing happens to him. Cooper’s sweet, and is it wrong to be suspicious that he could be… too nice? That’s probably him being cynical. Since the last time someone wanted to be friends with him (although, in that case, it was more than friends) their father ended up being a winged fiend who tried to kill him.
Peter couldn’t say he had the best lucks in making other friends.
They all walk out together, Cooper jumping into a big car that blew Flash’s dad’s car out of the water. Leaving Ned and Peter behind, it drives off into the distance and joins in on the extensive line of traffic clogging up New York’s streets.
“He was nice,” Ned says as it’s out of sight.
Peter looks over, “you thinking of replacing me already?” he gasps. “How could you Ned? Years of friendship thrown in the dirt in one night over the new guy. I really didn’t think you’d ever do this to me.”
Ned rolls his eyes with a laugh. “Shut up, man.”
“Yeah, well, I’m revoking your guy in the chair privileges for one week after that comment. If you couldn’t tell by the big smile on my face and the obvious tears streaming down my face, I’m heartbroken.”
“You’ll get over it,” Ned says, putting his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Now… you wanna go have dinner with my parents and play Minecraft? Or do you have spider stuff to do?”
“Let’s go have dinner.”
It's been an eventful day for Peter. Meeting the new kid at school, evading questions about his obvious limp from concerned teachers and curious classmates, and then enjoying the evening with Ned while disregarding his 'duties' as Spider-Man. When he hears a cry for help or a scream, he feels a pang of guilt—he knows he should be using his abilities for good, but he's tired and in pain, so he'll have to put it off till tomorrow.
As interesting as it’s been, it has also been a good one. And he hopes Cooper enjoyed himself too, because if he did then he’d sit with them against tomorrow. And to have another friend, especially someone as great as he seems to be), is always a good thing.
————————————————————————-
Tony
Cooper waltzes in as happy as ever, Happy trailing behind him with his backpack. Tony sits next to Steve, pretending that he’s not watching Cooper tell his dad how happy he is. He pretends that he doesn’t hear him sing the school’s praises, about how his new friends Peter, MJ and Ned are amazing. It’s not that he’s bothered how Cooper found it. He only wants to listen so that he’ll have some ‘I told you so’ ammo to push onto Clint’s already guilty conscious. There’s no other reason he’d want to listen.
“You could just ask him… you know that, right?” Steve says, nudging Tony in the stomach with his elbow. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to tell you about his school day.”
“…No, I don’t care- I-,”
“Sure,” Steve says, raising his eyebrow. “Well, I’m about to go and ask him how his day went. If you want to join us, then you’re more than welcome.”
Steve does as he says he would, getting up and sitting beside Cooper on the kitchen stools to ask him how it all went. He’s attentive, curious, and a great listener. Cooper can’t help but rant for ages about every minuscule thing that happened when Steve’s on the other end. Clint and Laura are there too, Natasha joining them later with Lila and Nate.
The amount of people makes him feel a little nervous, so he packs up his iPad he was using to write some notes on the latest phone he was helping build. He goes downstairs into his lab and opens the secret file he’s been working on. This was the perfect distraction he could ask for to pretend his home isn’t currently inflated by little people.
The file is projected into the open space of his lab- and is locked so that only he can see it. Not even Rhodey or Pepper can have a look. They would tell him to stop, that he’s crazy. Because nobody even knows who the person is that he’s making it for.
Because right in front of him is an upgraded suit, one that he’s sure Spider-Man will accept. He’ll have to tell him about it the next time they spoke.
Secretly, Tony hopes that’s soon.