They Lead Me To Believe
“He wants to go to school,” Steve said, walking into Tony’s lab.
“Who, Bruce? I get it, he has more PhDs than me, why’s he want another one?” Tony asked, not looking away from the circuit board he was soldering.
“No, Tony." Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose."Peter wants to go to school.” Tony stiffened and looked up at the other man.
It’s been roughly two months since Peter was rescued from Hydra. It was safe to say that he had the whole team wrapped around his finger and, despite the dad jokes constantly thrown Tony’s way only, it was clear that they all thought of Peter as family.
“What do you mean Pete wants to go to school?”
“Well, we had a Harry Potter marathon and he wanted to go to Hogwarts, but then after I explained that it wasn’t real we had a conversation about real schools, and he decided that he wanted to go to a real school.”
“So all of this…" He waved his hand in a lazy, circular motion. "Is because of…”
“Yes?”
“Harry Potter?”
“Yep.”
“Of all things.” Tony gave an exasperated huff. “Do you really think this is a good idea? This can’t be a good idea, right?”
“I do, actually. Sam does, too.”
“You talked to Sam about it before me?”
“Well yeah, he’s basically Peter’s therapist. And Sam thinks it’s a good idea.”
“But… He doesn’t even need school. He could be in college if he wants to.”
“He’s good at science and math, yes, but his grammar could use some improvement. Besides, it’s more about making friends and having a social life and learning about the real world. You can’t keep him locked up in here forever.”
“Why not?”
“Tony…”
“I know, I know.”
“There’s a STEM school not too far from here for kid geniuses in those subjects.”
“So you guys really just thought out this whole thing without me?”
“Basically, yeah. He turns fourteen tomorrow, and the new school year starts about a week and a half after that, so he can enroll as a freshman.”
“That’s… That’s too soon.”
“If he decides he doesn’t like it, he can unenroll. Easy peasy.” Steve shrugged.
Tony sighed. He didn’t like the idea of being away from Peter for so long, of him being somewhere without FRIDAY to keep an eye on him, surrounded by people that could do something to trigger a panic attack, but he knew that Steve was right. The kid needed to start integrating with society, and school was a perfect place to start. But that didn't mean he had to like it.
“Easy peasy,” Tony repeated under his breath.
___
Peter lay on his bed the next morning, his eyes locked on the ceiling.
His room was a lot more personalized than when he had first arrived. Posters—most of them pertaining to Star Wars, which he found he enjoyed after the Star Wars marathon he had during a “catching up” session with Steve—littered the walls and blueprints lay haphazardly on his desk. Books were scattered throughout the room and pieces of clothing peeked from the inside of dresser drawers. He’s never had so much stuff and he was still getting used to it.
His gaze moved to the ceiling fan and he watched the blades spin with no real interest.
They don’t want him. They could never want him.
It’s been two months. They must be tired of him by now.
Maybe the ‘playful’ eyerolls from Clint were genuine. Maybe Natasha’s eagerness to spar with him was more sinister, maybe she just wanted an excuse to punch him. Maybe Pepper hoped he’d get burned as they baked together. Maybe Rhodey was quiet because he was ignoring him.
Maybe Tony enjoyed getting so lost in his work because he wanted to forget that Peter was there.
They saved him because they’re superheroes, they’re selfless. They saved him because they had to.
It’s only a matter of time before they sat him down to tell him it was time to go, that he’d overstayed his welcome. Maybe they’ll let him choose between foster care and Hydra.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Peter said. He sat up as the door opened, leaning his back against the wall. In walked Tony, followed by Pepper, Clint, Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Sam, and even Rhodey, who was gone more often than not doing “boring military stuff.”
Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little overwhelmed.
“Uh, hi,” he said, the word coming out in more the tone of a question.
This is it—they’re here to tell him to leave.
And then they all burst into a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday.
By the time they had finished, Peter’s cheeks ached from smiling. He’d known birthdays were a "thing" from movies, but he’d always assumed that their importance were rather exaggerated, much like everything else in film. Because, after all, he’d never had a proper birthday before—at least not that he can remember. Just another thing to add to the growing list of things Hydra took from him.
“Happy birthday, Pete. You only turn fourteen once,” Tony said with a smile.
“I’m just here for the cake,” Sam teased.
“Yes, yes, now come on, you have to see what I got you!” Clint exclaimed, eyes bright.
“Cake? Gifts?” Peter asked quietly, refusing to believe it. He could feel tears welling up. “For me?”
“Yeah, kiddo,” Tony said, alarm flashing across his face for a moment. “Why? Is this too much?”
“No,” Peter inisisted. “It’s just—no one’s, you know...” He wiped his eyes. “These are good tears, I think. I didn’t know those were a thing, this is good, right? I’m not malfunctioning?”
“You’re happy?” Bruce asked.
“So happy,” Peter responded.
“Then yes, they’re very good.”
___
The cake was delicious. It was chocolate with chocolate frosting—the team had discovered Peter’s love of chocolate through his baking sessions with Pepper. The team made it themselves, together, and the decorations were, admittedly, a little messy—none of them were professional bakers, after all—but he loved it with his whole being.
Bruce got him his own chemistry set and Steve got him the entire Star Wars collection on DVD. Pepper got him the Harry Potter books, and Bucky, Natasha, and Sam all got him different Lego sets. Rhodey got him the newest editions of several engineering, math, and science books—or as Clint calls them, nerd books. Clint got him a skateboard, which everyone else was skeptical about, but once they saw Peter’s delighted face they relaxed again. Tony got him a camera, and Peter was prepared to take it absolutely everywhere with him.
All in all, Peter was sure it was the absolute best day of his life. As he layed in bed that night—thoughts positive, for once—he didn’t think it could possibly get any better. But then, with his super-hearing, he started picking up bits of a conversation from the living room.
He looked at the clock—2:38 am. Who would still be awake?
Pushing guilt to the back of his mind—his curiosity outweighed his desire to not eavesdrop—he strained his ears to tune into the conversation before being met with Tony and Pepper’s familiar voices.
“Fury called again today, earlier, during the kid’s fucking day, for a stupid update,” Tony whispered harshly.
“Okay,” said Pepper, her voice calm.
“We can’t hide Peter from him forever, and if he’s serious about going to school then it will be that much easier to find him.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
“But what if—God, Pep, I can’t do this. We can’t let him find him.”
“We won’t. He has the whole fucking Avengers team behind him. And he has you, and you do whatever the fuck you want to get whatever the fuck you want. If anyone can keep him safe, it’s you.”
“You—you really think that?”
“I know that.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Tony cleared his throat.
“I know you think of him as a son,” said Pepper.
“What? Where’d you get that idea?” Tony responded with a scoff.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I—Pep.”
“Tony.”
“Pepper, you’re killing me here.”
“Take your time.”
Tony sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I think of him as a son.”
They continued talking, but Peter wasn’t listening anymore. He smiled, happy tears glistening in his eyes for the second time that day.
Maybe they did want him.