Poppies

MJ sent May to the dining room with the dish of green bean casserole, and looked around, smiling at her mother-in-law. "I think that's it," she said, wiping her hands on a towel.
"Peter will carve the ham at the table."

"Is May feeling ok, honey?" Emma asked. "She seems a little...I don't know."

"She said she's fine, I asked if she was having trouble anywhere," MJ said, then sighed. "I think it's just being 16. She misses May since she moved up to Boston, and I don't think she quite buys the story that it's just for the job. She loves New York." She fidgeted with the towel. "I feel sorry for Peter that she took the news of him being Spiderman so poorly." She whispered that last.

"She called me up a few days after the big reveal and really blasted me," Emma said ruefully. "But honestly, I tried to get him to stop, and when he wouldn't, I tried to keep an eye out for him." MJ patted her shoulder.

"I know it's a shock, I remember when Pete told me," she said sympathetically, "but her rejection really hurt him."

"We can hope that she'll reconcile herself with a little time," Emma said. "Let's keep that door open and--" Whatever else she was about to say was cut off by delighted laughter and the crash of glass. Emma and MJ ran out of the kitchen, following the sounds, into the dining room. Emma crashed into MJ, who had stopped dead in the doorway, and Peter and Tony crashed into her. Bucky avoided the pileup and waited patiently for a resolution.

"May!" MJ gasped in shock.

"Merry May Parker!" Emma barked, gently moving MJ to the side and entering the room. "Your mother has worked hard on the preparations for this celebration! Come down now!"

The men crowed into the room to see May sailing the length of the table, accidentally bumping the ham off the platter onto the tablecloth and laying waste to another swath of glassware. She let go of a strand of webbing and clung to the wall. "May!" Emma said commandingly, pointing to a spot on the floor. The teen grimaced, but released her hands and pushed off, only to roll down and smack the wall face first as her leg stayed firmly attached. Bucky pushed through and held the girl upright.

"Grr! I can't get it to let go!" Emma and Tony came to look; Peter and MJ clung to each other in shock.

Emma spun down her vision and took a look. "She's got those grippy little hairs like spiders have, whatdoyoucallthem, setules. Each hair has tiny hairs. These ones seem...extra-grippy."

"What?" May said, bewildered. "But I shaved my legs today!" Emma smiled at her. "These are different," she said.

"Ok, well, let's see if we can't break the hold mechanically," Tony said, and took a napkin to pass between the leg and the wall. May fell off, caught by her grandpa.

"Where'd you get the webbing, punkin?" Bucky said, setting her down and looking at her wrists. "You taking a page out of Spiderman's book and making webshooters?"

The girl looked a little shifty. "Noooo..." she said, clasping her hands behind her back.

"May," Emma said in a no-nonsense voice. May heaved a great, dramatic, teenager sigh and extended her arm. "There's a little bump here, but--" her head jerked back in surprise as white webbing shot out from the bump.

"What the hell?" Tony said, walking over and touching it. "Emma?" She examined the end while he started to play with the webbing. May fidgeted and everybody was silent as Emma removed a small pad of paper and a miniature pen from Tony's inside suitcoat pocket and began to diagram the structures she saw. It took four of the little pages, put together as a square, to contain the structure.

"Long-chain polymer," she said to Tony, patting the pocket once she put the pen and pad back in. "Biochemically produced, a natural webbing." Peter rubbed his face with both hands.

"How long have you known you could do this, May?" her mother asked quietly.

"Couple weeks," she said nervously.

"And why didn't you say anything?" May glanced at her dad, who was impossible to read at that moment.

"Cuz," She whispered. "Now I can be a superhero. I was going to talk to Uncle Tony about it." Tony squinched his eyes shut and rubbed them.

MJ drew breath. "OK," Emma said, clapping her hands. "Let's take some time to contemplate this and get used to the idea before the freak-out begins. There's lots to be said, but we should have cool heads. May. You go clean up those glasses you broke. There's water everywhere, but fortunately the wine hasn't been poured yet." Tony went into the kitchen and came back with a dustpan and whisk to help May. Emma stabbed the ham with the carving knife and got it back on the platter, patting the tablecloth as clean as possible with a napkin. Bucky went into the kitchen and returned with wine in two juice glasses, which he gave to the shocked parents. Emma came back with more every-day glasses to replace the fine crystal, and Bucky poured wine for all the adults as well as filling glasses with water for all. When the table was as restored as possible, she tugged on MJ's arm. "Come on, honey, have a seat." MJ allowed herself to be guided to the head of the table, and Peter went to the foot mechanically. Bucky patted his shoulder sympathetically and quickly and efficiently carved the ham. Tony sat by MJ and Emma settled in between him and Peter; across the table, May sat mutely by her father and Bucky between her and MJ.

"Well, things haven't gone quite to plan, but I'm still grateful to be celebrating Christmas with family," Bucky said, raising his glass. "And thanks to MJ for working so hard on the dinner." Emma held up her glass and kicked Tony's ankle and patted Peter's foot with hers. On the other side of the table, Bucky was more gentle, touching MJ's hand and nudging his granddaughter.

"Merry Christmas, everybody," Tony seconded, and they touched glasses with their neighbors, sturdy clinks instead of the delicate chime of crystal.

"Would you pass the ham, dear," Emma asked May politely, and the teen started.

"Sorry, Grandma," she said, and picked up the platter, offering it to her father first before turning to her granddad. That broke the ice and everyone started serving themselves from the dishes near to them, and conversation started up. It was very general, about work and school and May's clubs and after-school activities. Then the men took care of the cleanup, and Emma seated MJ in a chair in the living room before pouring her a brisk slug of whiskey, and one for herself. She offered May a taste, and May's nose wrinkled.

"Yuck," she said succinctly.

"It's an acquired taste," MJ said, knocking hers back. "You might not want to, and if you do, I strongly encourage you to wait to do it legally." Emma patted her hand, and eyed the stereo meaningfully. May got the hint and pulled up a Christmas playlist. It was mostly silent until the men rejoined them. Tony poured whiskey for himself and Peter; Bucky declined, not being a big drinker. Seating being a little tight, Emma joined her husband, curling up on his lap. Tony rolled his eyes.

"What?" May defended them. "I think it's cute. I hope that I'm like that when I'm their age."

"Older than dirt, and sixty-something?" Tony cracked.

"Cute," Peter muttered into his glass. "It's not so cute when you see your parents going at it like... otters."

"Otters?" Emma said, and she and Bucky burst out laughing. Sigurd made amused sounds.

"Dad, I think you mean bunnies. Or maybe minks. I've never heard that otters have sex a lot."

"Oh, god, can we not talk about it?" Peter moaned. "I'm scarred for life as it is."

"We can talk about May's unexpected abilities instead," Emma said silkily. That got everybody's attention focused. "So, you've known for a couple of weeks, May. What were you planning on doing with your new and exciting abilities?"

"I was going to practice some, then go to Uncle Tony and ask if I could join the Avengers," she said defiantly.

"You are only sixteen years old, young lady!" her mother said sternly.

"Mom--"

"Have you thought about what being a hero entails, May?" Emma asked. "Not the public appearances or the action figures or the Make-A-Wish functions, the apartment in Avengers Tower and the privileges. It is hard and dirty and vicious work. A lot of heroes have to go to therapy for the PTSD and anxiety and depression that they're prone to from what they see. It hurts physically, too. A lot of heroes retire prematurely because some villain's weapon took out a chunk, and I can't make prosthetics for every injury." She kissed her husband's metal hand. "The day-to-day bruising, and cuts, and the hospital stays for the more severe injuries. And that happens regularly. Women and some men will come up to you and offer help to get you out of domestic violence, and if you've got a secret identity, you can't even say what really happened. There's isolation from other people. They can't really understand what's involved, so if you want a relationship, mostly--but not always--you have to look in the hero community." She drew a deep breath. "The shit you see, dear, never leaves you. Not really. What he was made to do haunts your grandpa still. Tony still has nightmares about the Chitauri invasion and feelings of inadequacy because we simply could never save everybody. My worst moments include seeing Steve torn apart by the huge rounds that the Kree used. Sprayed me with blood. I can still taste it, sometimes. And I almost died on a killing ground for some alien's amusement.So think long and hard about this path," she warned, twisting her wedding ring.

"Yeah, about the Avengers," Tony said, swirling his glass. "We don't take minors. I did once, and I caught hell for it, rightly," he said, nodding. "So it's not even on the table until you're of age. And even then, it's not automatic. These days, I'm not accepting anybody without at least college or vocational training. It's not just about the fighting, it's also about what we do off the field. You want to major in business, last you said. And that's a skill we could really use, but but you have to learn the things first. And after college, I'd say that I'll put you on the team, if you go to grad school, get an MBA."

"Don't you dare put her on Promotions, Tony," Emma said threateningly. He smirked at her.

"And if you do join, I'll be responsible for your weapons training," Bucky said. "Everybody has to have at least two, ones that they can use the most effectively. I won't be your grandpa then."

"He's the Winter Soldier when he's training, and that was the scariest thing I ever encountered," Emma said, shivering. "But he trained me hard so that I could survive out in the field. Never forget that at his peak, he was the best in the entire world at what he did. He's still better than 80% of the heroes out there today."

"I don't have to join the Avengers," May said defiantly, tossing her hair. "I could be a street-level hero."

"Where have I heard that before," Emma muttered. "Dear, you're not thinking it quite through. For street-level heroes, there's additional hazards that you don't get in the Avengers. Just last year, a female hero was overpowered in LA and gang raped. And she's not the only one. Being part of a team also ensures that you have backup, which is really nice when you've misjudged your opponent and are getting the hell beat out of you. There are more resources available to you on a team which helps in your protection, including medical care. It's hell wondering whether your nearest and dearest are going to make it out alive," she said with sudden intensity and passion that struck her granddaughter, who saw clearly, perhaps for the first time, the legendary Paladin/Poppy in her grandma. Then Emma stared at her granddaughter. "So....the webbing. And the spider hairs. Those are really quite specific mutations. How did you get them, do you think?"

"I dunno, actually," May said quietly. "I got these bumps on my wrists about a month ago, but I never heard of anything like that as a result of puberty and the internet said that cancers don't present symmetrically, so I waited. A couple weeks later, I was peeing and they really started to hurt, like, pressure. So I started to move my hands around and when my hands flexed back, the webbing stuff shot out. It kind of burned, but then it felt better. And it was so cool!"

"And the clinging to the wall?"

"I didn't know I could do that until today. That's new."

Emma sat back into Bucky's hug. Her eyes cut to Peter.

He leaned forward in his chair, forearms on his knees, toying with his glass. "That's my fault," he said simply. And sadly. Tears formed in his eyes as he spoke to the ground. "We thought, that since you were a normal baby, that you'd escaped any of the consequences of my mutations."

"Daddy?" May asked, sounding afraid.

"Dad is Spiderman, sweetie," MJ said quietly.

"No fucking way!" May said. Tony wiggled his fingers at her.

"That's another thing," he said sternly. "Avengers have a swear jar." He grinned at Emma and Bucky and they smiled back. "Buck a swear. But I'll waive it this once, seeing as how this is a big surprise."

"But...Dad?"

"Your old man's not quite the dull scientist you thought," Peter said, trying for a smile and failing. "I was younger than you were when I was at an exhibition put on by General Techtronics Laboratories, they were showing how to deal with radioactive waste. A spider had gotten irradiated and bit me. So I ended up becoming a street-level hero, before Tony recruited me."

"Which is why we don't do that anymore," Emma said sternly. Tony rolled his eyes.

"And it's been a hard life. I won't argue that it wasn't worthwhile, but it's hard. You're pretty much always in pain, and you can't tell anybody. You miss events because you're fighting some bad guy. There are times when you're Public Enemy Number One and everybody hates you. It's lonely, even when you're on a team. You lose precious things if you decide to go down that road. Most of us don't have much in the way of family. You do." He looked at his daughter, grief plain on his face. "I want better for you."

"Is this why Auntie May left?" Peter nodded.

"Nothing will be decided today," Bucky said into the silence. "She can't join the Avengers, and none of the other teams, Justice League or anybody else, will touch a minor. X-Men would, but Emma has friends there too and she'll shut that down. But," he said, lifting his voice to override his granddaughter's protest, "there are things that can be done. In exchange for staying off the streets as a hero, you can come to the tower and train your skills. You'll have to be evaluated to see if you have any other power, too, and I'm not going to lie, something like speed healing is really useful. Find the limits of your webbing, because you won't be able to produce indefinite quantities of the stuff. And, after grad school, you still want to join the Avengers..."

"You'll be an adult and can decide for yourself," Tony said. Still seeing rebellion in her face, he decided to sweeten the pot. "If you can show a history of good judgement and restraint, we can talk about your persona. You could develop your own or we could slot you into one of the legacy names. Captain America, War Machine, and Falcon are generally reserved for veterans, but your dad's mostly retired, so his Spiderman persona is open, with a gender twist, obviously. There's also Black Widow open, which would be a good fit namewise, but maybe not in skillset. Possibly by the time you're ready, Iron Man might be open."

"I'd make Paladin open to you if you have any interest in metallurgy," Emma said unexpectedly.

"Really?" May said, dropping down on the floor by her grandma, who smoothed her hair.

"Yep. But you'd have to agree to the conditions. I know you can't be stopped if you really want to. I tried to get your dad to quit but he wouldn't. But if you agree to all these conditions and promise to thoughtfully consider the pros and cons of the hero business, you'd be welcome to either of my identities, actually, Paladin or Poppy, even."

"Now the shoe's on the other foot, Mom," Peter said quietly. "She hasn't even done it yet, but I'm realizing what you went through with me. Sorry," he said, and this time managed a brief smile. MJ, sitting on the arm of his chair, rubbed his back.

"Pete, you said yourself that you couldn't not help, that you couldn't look the other way once you got your abilities," she said unexpectedly. "May is your daughter, it shouldn't be a surprise to you that she's like you in this. Now you'll know what it's like to be left behind and wait." She looked at her daughter. "I'll agree not to stand in your way if you agree to the terms your grandpa stipulated."

After the discussion was over and the terms agreed to, Tony, Emma, and Bucky left. "At least this way she'll be able to see what you really have to go through to be a hero," Tony said, and Bucky nodded.

"Don't go harder on her than you would anybody else," Emma said unexpectedly. "She shouldn't be treated any differently than any other kid you might encounter, it's not fair." There was some discussion, but both men ended up agreeing. "You can give her an internship, Tony, She doesn't really seem interested in the sciences, so she can do rotations through the business side of things as well as the clinic." Tony nodded.

"The first time somebody gets rushed in, spurting blood or whatever, will be eye-opening," he agreed.

"If she can stay with the weapons training for six or seven years, with everything else, she'll deserve a spot on the team," Bucky said.

"You might try giving her some responsibilities in a couple years when she turns 18," Emma said. "Not fieldwork, but helping plan ops, taking care of supply, that kind of thing." Tony looked at her thoughtfully.

"You're looking for her to take over when I'm done," he said, and she nodded once.

"Have to develop her leadership skills, then," he said. "That can be your contribution." They discussed their plan in broad outlines until they reached their cars.