Checkmate

“You’ve got to be shitting me--come on!” Strange exclaimed in frustration, growling as he moved his hand in another small circle. In front of him was a large, transparent map laid out onto the air, a grid spread out over what appeared to be areas of space. Towards the center was a small circle that was centered in on a ship, magnifying the object and moving with it as it flew through space. From the light dancing from his palms, a smaller green circle was forming at the center of the ship, sparks of light slowly floating towards the map and attaching together to create the ring. However, the ship suddenly jerked slightly to the side, causing the light and the circle to fade, making the sorcerer let out a short curse.

“At this rate, I don’t think we’ll be able to make it to Chinatown before dark,” Wong muttered softly. “And I was looking forward to some peking duck.”

“Shut up, I’m going to get it,” Strange muttered, hands glowing green once more as he started the circle over. Wong sighed heavily, moving over to take some books on various infinity stones off of the table, stacking them all into a neat pile at the corner of it.

“You said the same thing an hour ago, Strange,” the sorcerer sighed, and the ship moved again, causing blood to rush to Strange’s face as he let out another loud curse.

“Fuck!”

“Yelling at it won’t make it happen any faster,” Wong said, grabbing the stack of books and walking over to the array of bookshelves in the corner.

“It’s a speck, Wong. A tiny little dot that’s incredibly hard to locate and keeps moving when I don’t want it to,” the sorcerer hissed through gritted teeth, the green light covering his hands again.

“I know, but getting frustrated just makes it more difficult,” Wong advised. “If you’re patient you might actually get a result or two.”

“If I’m patient,” Strange repeated slowly, face incredulous as he let out a slightly hysterical laugh. Something small snapped in him as he turned away from the map to face his friend, his current task momentarily forgotten. “How am I supposed to be patient when this fucking ship keeps moving when I try to put a marker on it? Tell me Wong, really, I’d like to know.”

Wong paused in his movements hearing his friend’s words, face hardened as Strange waited for him to respond. Opening his mouth to try to reason with the man, he quickly cut himself off, noticing an orange glow beginning to creep up onto the sorcerer’s hands in place of the green. Eyes widening in surprise, he slowly set down the pile of books, their weight suddenly becoming heavier as he swallowed down a lump in his throat, watching the light and muttering shakily, “Strange…”

“Every single time I get even a little bit close to finishing the marker--which takes a while, by the way--they end up using lightspeed and going someplace different! Do you know how frustrating that is?” Strange continued, and Wong bit his lip as the orange continued to creep up the man’s hand.

“Strange--”

“I’ve been up for thirty-eight hours Wong. I was up at four o’clock yesterday morning, still trying to track these--these idiots,” he spat the word distastefully, “because god knows when they’ll get this close to Earth again, and they were still moving around even then. Sure, it may not be night for them, but surely I’ve been up long enough for them to have fallen asleep at least once, right? But apparently they don’t sleep, and they have to keep moving because the ship has ADHD or some shit! I don’t know!” The orange had fully enveloped the green on the man’s hands at this point, and Wong was steadily paling at how bright the glow was getting.

“Strange--”

“I’m too tired for this. I just can’t do it,” the sorcerer muttered, shaking his head. The dark circles under his eyes somehow became more pronounced as he spoke. “Coffee isn’t doing shit, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I want to lay down in my bed and be able to rest my head on a nice, soft pillow, but you know what? I’m stuck trying to track this goddamn ship! I’m done!” He spoke the last two words sharply and deliberately, the light on his hands fluctuating and increasing in response to his sudden emotion.

Strange took in an angry breath, face flushed with anger as the glow began to steadily brighten, fuming, “Y’know what, fuck it! Fuck the stones! Fuck Thanos, fuck the Avengers for even making me do this in the first place, and fuck that ship!” Throwing his hands into the air with finality, the glow suddenly disappeared from his hands and a loud fwoom resounded outside, causing the blood to completely drain from his friend’s face.

“Stephen!” Wong yelled, eyes widening as a large, orange orb flew up into the sky at an incredible speed, slowly disappearing into nothing but a small dot and appearing at the very bottom of the map in front of them. Strange perked up at the sudden use of his first name, and he shifted to look at his friend.

“What?” the sorcerer asked, suddenly sobering as he noticed Wong’s pale face. Slowly following the man’s gaze to the map, Strange quickly spotted the orange dot as it rose into the air, floating higher and higher on the map and slowly crawling closer to the circle magnifying the ship. It crept closer to the ship, entering the magnified area of space and in the blink of an eye, the ship was enveloped in a bright orange light. The wing of it quickly shattered on impact, breaking into small pieces as smoke started to rise from the back engines, causing the ship to begin to fall, the pull of Earth’s gravity becoming too much for it as it was forced into its atmosphere. Swallowing harshly, Strange slowly turned back to Wong, who was giving him a glare so sharp it could cut steel. He chuckled nervously, body tense as he began to sweat.

“Um...whoops?”

Peter pursed his lips, frantically erasing the line of measurements he’d just written and he let out a soft breath, starting the equation over with a slightly altered length. At the current moment he and Hope were working on design plans for the holding device they were planning to use to contain the stones and to ultimately use the stones. He had been working for a few hours at this point--he hadn’t gotten up to check an exact time--and he’d come up with maybe half of his design, which he was pretty proud of. Tony and Hank had originally been assisting them with the blueprints, but they all decided it would be best to split up the work and have the two men begin mapping out the molecular structure of the stones and their energies via FRIDAY.

The teen arrived home pretty late yesterday because of their research, which unsurprisingly didn’t blow over well with his aunt. He didn’t get grounded, thank god, but he now officially had a curfew for how long he could “stay at Ned’s house,” which he had to embarrassingly reveal to the other scientists and the Avengers. They all understood, of course, and Hope even reassured him that Hank and Tony had humiliated themselves much worse than he had when Hank first arrived. (He didn’t think he needed the reassurance, but he still listened, especially since he was getting some wonderful insight on this time’s Tony. You gotta love some tea, he thought with a wide smirk.) Apparently one of the first things Hank did when he arrived was ask about FRIDAY, and he somehow verbally coded the AI to respond only to him. Tony blew up, of course, yelling at him for messing up his work and Hank said, in Hope’s words, that, “Maybe I can help you make the programming a bit better sometime, although it isn’t my specialty.”

Hope refused to give any details after that.

They’d eventually set aside their differences, however, and started discussing the stones and such. Peter found it slightly odd that Tony got over something like that so quickly, but there was something in Hope’s eyes that make him think twice about asking.

Finishing the new equation, Peter set his pencil down and stared at the markings, beginning to zone out as his thoughts paused. It seemed as if the world around him started to become a little fuzzy, and he fell deeper into his trance, not a single thought crossing his mind as he stared, the soft noises around him becoming muffled. It felt nice and peaceful, almost natural--a little like sleep, he mused--and he allowed himself to begin to drift away, li--

“Peter, your phone is ringing,” Hope’s voice broke through the stupor, and Peter quickly blinked, body snapping into movement once more. His eyebrows furrowed as he regained awareness, noise slowly filtering back into his ears. Jesus, I really need more sleep, he thought grimly to himself, yawning slightly as he shook away the remaining fuzz from his vision. Then, remembering the reason why he snapped out of his stupor, he turned to his phone, which was set on the workbench next to the blueprint, and saw that it was indeed buzzing. On the screen he could see May’s contact, and he immediately grabbed it, shooting a soft “Thanks” to Hope before answering.

“Hello?” He asked, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, sweetie. I forgot to mention that the lunch I made for you has some stuff that needs to stay cold, so don’t wait too long to eat or else it’ll get all gross,” May’s voice filtered through the phone, and Peter laughed softly, nodding.

“Okay, I won’t.” May paused on the other end for a moment, the silence pondering.

“You boys are staying put, right?” She asked slowly, and Peter blinked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” He questioned, tilting his head a little as he readied his pencil to write.

“I’m just wondering, that’s all,” his aunt said. Peter’s eyes lit up with a small realization and he let a sigh pass through his lips.

“May, if this is about Tuesday--”

“Hey, it’s not every day you accidentally get lost at Avengers tower,” May said pointedly, causing Peter to groan.

“It was an accident,” the teen exasperated, the protest falling a bit weak from the countless times he’d repeated it.

“I’m just saying, it’s pretty convenient considering how obsessed you are with Tony Stark. I don’t really think you should be putting him on such a high pedestal Peter, honestly.” Peter rolled his eyes, his face dropping into his hands. “He’s kind of an asshole. I mean, when he was younger he did some stuff that young boys like you really shouldn’t--”

“Nat, come on! Give me back my quiver!”

May paused. “What was that?”

“Oh, uh,” Peter stammered, the echoes protests of Clint continuing to resound through the space, fading a bit as the archer moved further away from the room. “Just-just a movie. We’re watching one right now.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. But you better not be running off to someplace like Avengers tower again, okay?” May instructed. “You’re lucky that they were nice enough to try to get you home. You could’ve gotten arrested for trespassing.”

“May, I know, I get it.”

“I know how you and Ned are, Peter. Just because you met them once doesn’t mean it has to be a thing. Don’t get conveniently lost there.”

“I won’t, May. I love you,” Peter said, and May let out a breath over the phone.

“I love you too. You boys have fun, okay?”

“We will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Peter let out a loud sigh hearing the call end, and he pulled his face away from his hands. Setting his phone back on the table, he turned back to his blueprint, pausing as he met Hope’s eyes, the woman’s expression curled into a knowing smirk. The teen’s cheeks burned from the look, and his eyes immediately dropped to the paper in front of him, his body curling in slightly as he did so. Sticking his nose in his work once more, he began to reevaluate the equations on the page and started drawing some more sections of the device as footsteps slowly began to echo downwards towards the stairs leading to the second floor of the lab. Peter didn’t have to pick up his head to know it was Tony and Hank, and the two men began down the steps, babbling about another theory on the stones as they did so.

“I still think it’s similar to neurons,” Tony stated as he stepped onto the first floor. “Sure, we’ve only scanned the mind stone, but they have to be sentient somehow. I mean, one of them can turn me into a rat for god’s sake!”

“Yes, but when you think about how they interact with life and how unpredictable they are, you could see how they could just be an example of harnessed quantum energy. Trust me, I’ve been working on this for most of my life,” Hank responded, and Tony’s eyes narrowed into a small glare from the distasteful response.

“Guys, I appreciate the science talk and all, but none of that actually explains how they can create matter,” Hope piped up, swirling around in her chair with her pencil still in hand.

“Maybe it’s dark matter?” Peter suggested with a small shrug, still looking at his blueprint as he erased one of his lines. “There’s theories but technically we don’t know what it looks like. It could just be invisible matter, and the stones are manipulating that to burn it into energy or something.” Tony paused for a moment at this, and the teen looked up, a small spark of hope igniting in his chest as he awaited some praise from the man.

“I mean, it’s a nice thought, but then how do you explain the reality stone transforming an object into something else? It’d have to be able to manipulate regular matter too, and dark matter and regular matter doesn’t mix,” the billionaire said, and Peter deflated, the spark dying almost as soon as it was born. He exhaled heavily, turning back to his blueprint, though his attention was almost immediately redirected as the doors to the lab opened, the sharp click of heels meeting his ears as Pepper stepped in the room. Peter broke into a wide smile at the sight of the woman, though he quickly forced it down to something more reasonable because that’s just creepy, Peter. Don’t be creepy.

“Break time. It’s been four hours,” Pepper said, and giddy excitement flourished in his chest at her familiar voice. The two had met shortly after the homecoming fiasco with Toomes, as per her request, and her warm inviting aura was already enough for Peter to trust her. They both hit it off right away, and they quickly bonded over the difficulties of handling Tony and his “emotional constipation,” as Peter liked to call it. Unfortunately, they weren’t given nearly as much time as him and Tony were due to her schedule as CEO of SI, but he knew he could go to her for help if he needed anything. A part of him was expecting the woman to notice him and shoot him a warm smile and a wave, but it seemed as if she didn’t notice his presence at all, the empty lack of contact serving as a bitter reminder of his current situation.

“But Pep, that’s barely any time as it is,” Tony protested.

“Break time, Tony.” The billionaire broke into a small pout, and Peter almost smiled at the action. Pepper only narrowed her eyes, setting her hands on her hips sternly.

“Out.” Tony ducked his head, nodding a little as he quickly deflated. Hope smiled in amusement at the exchange, and Hank patted the hero’s shoulder reassuringly, giving Pepper a bright smile.

“Thank you for looking out for us,” he said sincerely, making Pepper’s lips tug upwards.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad someone appreciates it,” the woman said, shooting Tony a sharp look. The man’s jaw dropped slightly as his eyes widened, and he looked between the two, arms held out in an “are-you-serious?” gesture.

“Oh, come on! Really?” This time, a small chuckle erupted from Peter, a smile gracing his lips. Hank, Hope, and Pepper started filing out of the room, Tony begrudgingly following them as he grumbled to himself. The teen followed behind the man, expression dropping slightly. The distance between him and his ex-mentor felt like it had grown tenfold in the exchange, and he didn’t like it one bit. He shifted a little uncomfortably, pulling his sleeves down to his hands and eyes darting around as he bit his lip, an idea playing in his mind. Stopping at an intersection, Peter watched as the group continued down the hall, and he quickly slipped off to the left, effectively parting from the rest.

Crossing his arms, Peter started down the foreign hallway, keeping his head low to avoid making eye contact with anyone else in the area. The uncomfortable feeling of disappointment and loss had pooled its way into his chest again, along with the sharp sting of something similar to neglect. He didn’t mean to feel this way, but in some ways, he couldn’t help it. He just missed his Tony.

It’s not that he wasn’t expecting this to happen. After the Civil War, Tony hadn’t spoken a word to him until he first came into contact with the Vulture. Tony had even mentioned in passing that he would’ve thought himself to be crazy if he told himself he would become close to Peter in a few years. The teen had no reason to think that this version of Tony would treat him the way his Tony did, but he still did. He knew it was completely unfair too--this version of Tony still had a lot of emotional stuff to deal with--but a part of him longed for that familiar parental warmth he had grown to know and love. He knew that he probably freaked Tony out when he talked to him last weekend too. After he’d revealed that he was close to the future version of him, it almost seemed as if the older man had been avoiding him. Well--not avoiding him per se, but avoiding falling into a conversation with him. Peter didn’t blame him, he threw a lot at the man.

Needless to say, he really regretted running his mouth.

Now, it almost felt as if Peter was an outsider to Tony’s inner circle. The only instances he’d interact with the billionaire would be in passing while they were working. There was no small talk--only the occasional quip--no spontaneous dinner invites, no movie nights, no “Hey Peter, how was school today?” in that annoying, obnoxious dad voice he would always use when Happy would drop him off at the compound--nothing. There was no Peter and Pepper ganging up on Tony when he’d slip up and accidentally say something affectionate about Peter (“Oh? So he’s your kid now?” “Aww, Mr. Stark, you do love me!” “Shut. Up.”), just the occasional glimpse of Pepper on her phone and a small interaction between her and her boyfriend here and there. There was no Peter and Rhodey messing with FRIDAY’s coding to rename Tony’s protocols to piss off the man when they were bored on a rainy day. (“FRIDAY, can you zoom in on that building real quick?” “Sure thing, boss. Activating Old Man Bifocals Protocol.” “...what the everloving fuck did you just say to me?”) It was just them and him. He wasn’t a part of their family anymore. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was part of his own family anymore. Since May didn’t know about his relations with the Avengers anymore, it felt like a wall had created between him and his aunt. He absolutely hated lying to her, but what else could he do? He couldn’t push everything onto her.

A few tears pricked his eyes, and Peter quickly wiped them away with his sleeves before they could fall. He couldn’t help but feel like this was all his fault. He’d freaked Tony out, he was lying to May--he couldn’t even get the fucking gauntlet off of Thanos’ hand. He was so, so close to taking it off, but he just wasn’t strong enough to get it off all of the way. If he’d just pulled a little harder, none of this would’ve happened. Now, his Tony was probably driving himself insane because he knew the older man had separation anxiety, this Tony was freaking out because Peter was too close to him, and Thanos killed half of the universe.

And it was all his fault.

Swallowing back a sob, Peter shook his head, trying to force the thoughts out of his head. He knew he shouldn’t blame himself, he was just being stupid, this whole thing was just stupid, stupid, god, why am I so stupid, this is all my fault, all my fault, stupid, stupid, all my fault--

“Uumph!” Peter bumped into something--someone, he realized as he stumbled slightly and lost his balance, falling face first into the fabric of the person’s shirt. He almost immediately flinched back, ducking his head in shame as his face flushed, an apology stumbling out of his mouth. “I-I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean--I wasn’t--”

A familiar, rumbling laugh broke him out of his stupor, and he looked up to see Steve standing in front of him with his textbook bright smile and warm eyes. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t really paying attention either,” he reassured. “Are you alright?”

Peter quickly nodded, “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” It wasn’t until then he noticed that his eyes were wet, and he swiftly wiped them, sniffling softly as he tried to compose himself. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Steve slowly asked, his voice becoming soft as he noticed the teen’s tears. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Peter quickly snapped, eyes widening in surprise at his own tone. Steve seemed to be a little taken aback as well, and the spiderling muttered, “It’s nothing you need to worry about, okay? I’m fine.”

“Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” the super soldier said, holding out his hands in a submissive gesture. He then looked over the teen, who currently was trying to calm himself down by taking a couple deep breaths, and spoke once more.

“Why don’t you come down to the gym with me and spar a little?” The hero offered, and Peter’s eyes widened. “It’s good for clearing your head.”

“I--really?” Peter asked, blinking in surprise as the soldier nodded.

“Mhmm.” A moment of silence passed, and the teen studied the man’s face before breaking into a small smile, a bit of childish excitement filling his body as it began to sink in that Captain America had just asked him to spar because no, he wasn’t over the hero worship just yet (at least not over this Captain America), and he nodded.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it!” The spiderling said, and Steve broke into a smile of his own.

“That’s the spirit,” the captain responded and started down the hall, Peter following him close behind. The teen had never personally been to the compound’s training room before, but he was aware it was on the opposite side of the building than the labs. He hadn’t realized he’d walked so far while he was wrapped up in his thoughts, especially so quickly. Unless it hadn’t been as little time as he thought, and Tony and the others were looking for them as they spoke. But, no, that couldn’t be the case, because FRIDAY would’ve probably called for him, right?

“...yeah, I will. I know, I know.” Peter paused hearing the soft voice, and turned to the side, peering down a hallway they were just about to pass and saw none other than Clint. His back was turned to Peter’s direction and a phone was pressed to his ear, but a small smile rose to his face nonetheless at the sight of the archer. He heard the faint voice of a woman speaking through the phone, and Clint laughed in response to whatever had been said.

“Okay. Love you, babe--tell Nathaniel I love him too, okay? Okay. Bye.” Ending the call, Clint pocketed the phone and exhaled softly, turning around and starting to walk, blinking in surprise when he noticed the pair--Steve had paused when Peter did, the teen realized, having followed the archer’s gaze.

“Oh, hey Cap, hey Pete! What’s up?” He said with a cheery smile.

“Sparring,” Steve responded, and Clint raised an eyebrow.

“With the squirt? He looks like a noodle.” Peter’s jaw dropped and he make a noise of indignance.

“Hey, I’m enhanced too,” the teen huffed, crossing his arms in front of him. Clint’s eyebrow raised further at this, though he quickly caved with the spiderling gave a pout and ruffled his hair playfully.

“We’ll start light, don’t worry,” Steve smiled. “You wanna spot?”

Clint sighed, shrugging a little as he started to look away. “I dunno, I’ve got some stuff…”

“C’mon Clint, please?” Peter asked, pulling his puppy dog eyes out to annoy the man. The archer gave him a dry look, and the teen somehow deepened his pout in response. After a few moments, he caved.

“What the hell, sure, why not.” Peter immediately broke into a shit-eating grin, and he threw a hand up into the air in triumph.

“Yes! Let’s go then, come on!” The spiderling bounced out in front of the group, gesturing for the others to follow, and began running down the hall, practically bubbling with excitement. Steve smiled softly in relief and the teen’s energy, and Clint chuckled, breaking into a jog and following him. The captain followed, keeping Clint’s pace as they made their way towards the training room.

“Jesus, this kid,” the archer sighed, shaking his head, before raising his voice to yell over to Peter. “Slow down, not all of us have the calves of a god.”

“I thought only Thor has those,” Peter yelled back, slowing a little to turn and look back at the pair. Clint sighed.

“You know what I mean!”

Steve laughed at the archer’s side, and the man’s feigned annoyance quickly dropped as he joined his friend in laugher. After a few brief moments, Peter stopped in front of a pair of large metal doors, looking over them with curiosity. The pair stopped behind him only a second after, and the teen turned towards them, head tilted slightly in questioning.

“Is this it?” He asked, and Steve nodded, looking over the doors with a small smile.

“Yup,” the soldier said before looking up at the ceiling. “FRIDAY, can you open up the doors, please?”

“Of course, Captain,” FRIDAY’s voice rang throughout the space, and soon, the two metal doors began to slowly pull open, revealing a large room on the other side.

Stepping into the doorway, Peter gazed upon the sight in front of him, eyes widening as he began to take it all in. The room was vacant, brightly lit up with natural light from the large glass panels that acted as the wall situated to his left. The floors consisted of the same light metal that made up the rest of the room, dancing around reinforced glass in intricate patterns. Encasing the entire room, aside from the glass wall, were sloped metal structures leading up to a small slit of glass which showed a hallway on the other side. The teen could only assume that the hallways lining the training room had to be at least two or three floors above them because of the sheer height of the walls. Directly across from him was a platform branching out at about half the height of the wall with another set of metal doors situated behind it.

“Holy shit,” Peter whispered, eyes glittering in the sunlight. Steve smiled at this, and he began to make his way across the room, turning around about halfway and looking over the area, pursing his lips in thought.

“FRIDAY, can you set up for sparring in grid four?” The captain asked.

“Right away, Captain.” With the confirmation, the panels of the floor started to shift, and, as Peter watched with wide eyes, the metal and glass intricacies were replaced by soft mats. Steve kicked off his shoes and nudged them over to the side of the mat. He then stepped on top of the area with a satisfied smile.

“Would you say five minutes is a good place to start?” The soldier asked. A small bit of silence followed his question and Peter eventually blinked out of his stupor, flushing slightly as he noticed the word were directed towards him. He nodded, making his way over to the mat with Clint. He knocked off his shoes, following the captain’s example, and nudged them next to the older man’s, ignoring Clint’s snort at the difference in size.

“Five minutes sounds good.” The teen stepped on to the mat and looked around. The area they were situated in was about halfway through the room, though the mat was pressed up against the metal wall on the right. A small smirk made its way onto his face at the convenience of the placement, and he bounced slightly on his feet in excitement, his spider instincts already urging him to climb the large incline. “Am I allowed to use the walls?”

The soldier blinked in surprise at the question. “Um…” He looked over to Clint, who only shrugged, before turning back to Peter. “Sure?”

“Great!” Peter said a little too cheerily as he broke out into a wide smile. The spiderling then dropped into a fighting stance, which was one of the few things he recalled from his training lessons with Tony and Rhodey, with Steve following suit soon after.

“Alright!” Clint announced once the two had gotten themselves braced, clasping his hands together. “Some basic rules when sparring: When enhanced and fighting a non-enhanced, pull your punches, but this doesn’t apply so we’re good there. No weapons or magic unless otherwise specified, all electronics must be discarded, and don’t let your guard down.”

“Shit, hold on then,” Peter mumbled with a surprised blink, pulling out of his stance and slipping his hand into one of his pockets, taking out his phone. Clint barked out a laugh at this, and he looked at Steve with a smug look on his face.

“See? I told you we say those for a reason. It’s useful!”

“Yeah yeah,” Steve muttered with a chuckle, relaxing his stance a little as Peter made his way over to where their shoes were situated. Crouching over, the teen set his phone down next to his shoes, and, picking his head back up, he absentmindedly glanced across the room one more time. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two very familiar figures walking down the glass-lined hallway lining the top of the room, the familiar expensive Givenchy suit clad figure particularly catching his eye as they walked. His ex-mentor paused as he turned to peer into the training room, and Peter met the man’s eyes, freezing as he locked himself into the hero’s gaze. The expression on the billionaire’s face seemed to tense into a weird mixture of pain and guilt (which didn’t really make all that much sense to Peter because it was his fault), and he was almost sure he was reflecting the expression.

“Pete, you good?” Clint asked from behind him, and Peter quickly snapped out of his stupor, blinking as he absentmindedly gave the archer a nod.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said with a strained smile as he made his way back to his spot on the mat, soon dropping back into a stance. Looking up, he saw that the two Avengers were looking at him with concerned expressions, and, almost in reflex, he plastered a wide smirk on his face, forcing his usual Spider-Man snark to the forefront of his mind to relieve the two of their worry.

“You think you can keep up, old man?” The hero taunted, eliciting a surprised laugh from Steve.

“Oh, I’ll try alright,” the soldier responded, and he dropped back into his stance. Clint smiled at the two and, taking a quick glance between them, began to slowly count them down.

“Starting the match in three...two...one…”

“Go!”

Letting out a soft sigh, Tony set his coffee cup underneath the coffee machine, bringing up a hand to rub at his temples, trying to soothe the dull ache that had wormed its way into his head. The dark circles weighing down on his eyes felt heavier than ever, and although he knew he was responsible for their appearance, it didn’t stop him from despising their existence. He was starting to get to the point where focusing on words was becoming difficult, regardless of how much caffeine he pumped into his system. Ugh, I’m going to need another nap soon, Tony thought to himself with a grimace. Soft footsteps shifted his attention away from his exhaustion, each soft tap sending a dull throb through his head.

“Jesus, another one?” The voice of Rhodey carried through the room as his friend entered, and Tony let out an annoyed breath.

“Fuck off, Rhodes,” the man grumbled, dropping his hand from his face and setting it on the handle of his coffee cup, the machine nearly done filling the cup with the delicious liquid.

“No nicknames? Must really be in a bad mood,” Rhodey said, pulling out a stool from the island and sitting down, a soft smile gracing his features. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night,” the billionaire responded, back still turned to the lieutenant colonel. He really wasn’t in the mood for being questioned, though, knowing Rhodey, he wasn’t going to let up very easily. The knowledge only sent a spark of annoyance into his chest. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

Hypocrite, his thoughts whispered. Tony quickly pushed the voice away.

Rhodey let out a sigh at his response, and he leaned against the island, bringing his arms up to cross over his chest. “Let me elaborate. When was the last time you slept for more than one or two hours?”

Somewhere during his friend’s words the cup had finished filling with coffee, and, not sparing a glance at the sweeteners set beside the machine, Tony blew softly on the liquid. He didn’t bother to respond to Rhodey (his silence was loud enough of an answer anyways), annoyance and a weird mixture of his other repressed emotions still sparking up in his chest. Taking a small sip of the liquid, the billionaire pulled out a stool situated next to his friend, and he sat down wordlessly, only sparing the man a glance before sipping the warm liquid contently.

“Tony,” Rhodey chastised, and the man let out a breath.

“I know, honey bear. Don’t have to remind me,” Tony said softly, and his friend’s expression softened.

“I thought the therapy was working,” Rhodey softly spoke.

“It was, until some kid from the future who somehow knows every little thing about me appeared out of nowhere confirming what I saw in New York,” the hero muttered, setting down his mug. Rhodey paused at his side, his expression morphing into one of soft pity. They sat in silence for a few moments as the man processed through Tony’s words, and honestly, the billionaire would’ve felt bad for dropping that on his friend all at once if they hadn’t been friends for years. He’d be fine.

And, true to his beliefs, Rhodey soon recovered, shifting his position slightly to get more comfortable. “Well, the last part I’ll admit you’re completely right to be stressed over,” his friend said softly, “but the kid…”

“He knew the override code and about Howard platypus, I don’t think it gets much more inner circle than that.” Tony took another long sip of coffee before continuing. “And I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I mean, if you told him that in the future it means you trusted him. You trusted him a lot, Tones,” Rhodey gently spoke. Swallowing harshly, the hero looked down at his cup, watching his reflection ripple slowly in the brown liquid.

“Well,” he began, “that Tony isn’t me for a reason. I don’t do kids. I don’t plan to ever do kids.”

“You don’t, or you’re scared to?”

The question elicited a harsh laugh from Tony, because god it was such a Rhodey thing to say. Eyes shining against his will, he looked over at his friend, giving him a weak smile.

“Is it wrong to say both?” He whispered, hating the way his voice failed towards the end of his sentence. Rhodey mirrored his weak smile, eyes shining with sadness, and he set a hand on Tony’s shoulder, rubbing it softly in a gesture of comfort. The billionaire only nudged his hand softly with his shoulder in response, opting for another sip of coffee instead of more words.

“What’s his name?” Rhodey asked after a small pause.

“Peter,” Tony responded. “He was sixteen before he came back here. Bit of a chatterbox, but smart. Kind.” Pausing, the man bit his lip, a lump forming in his throat as he spoke his next words. “The way he looks at me, Rhodes...he looks so lost. And I know people think I don’t see it, but I do, and--fuck, I just--”

“Hey, it’s okay,” his friend softly reassured, but Tony shook his head, meeting the lieutenant colonel’s eyes.

“He looks at me like he’s looking for someone else,” he muttered softly. Exhaling softly, Tony brought his hands to his head, resting his forehead in them as he looked down at the table. “Jesus, it’s only been a week and I’m fucking him up.”

Rhodey’s face almost immediately tightened at this. “Tony, don’t start with this--”

“But it’s true. He looks up to me, it’s obvious. And in return, I brought him into all this Avengers shit. He’s scared--he doesn’t want us to know that he’s scared, but I can tell he is. Hell, he had a panic attack because we told his mom or his aunt or whatever that he was at the tower,” the billionaire began to ramble, eventually pulling his hands away from his face.

“But that wasn’t you,” Rhodey rebutted.

“I know. That’s kinda the problem.” He gave a harsh chuckle at this, though his expression quickly dropped soon after. “Regardless of how much I try to deny it or how many excuses I come up with, it’s a fact that whatever future me did was good. He did something right with that kid, and I don’t think I can ever live up to that expectation.”

“Well, of course you can’t, Tones. It’s the future--you need time,” his friend said. “I’m sure the kid realizes that too.”

“Maybe, but it’s still hurting him. He--He needs something better than me. He deserves that other me, the better me, not...this me.” Voice weakening, Tony took a moment to regather himself, willing down the knot that had formed in his chest before continuing. “I’m an asshole, Rhodey. I’m ignoring him because he’s something I don’t know how to handle, like I always do with all of my problems, and--shit, I’m doing it again. I called him a problem.” The hero groaned, dropping his face in his palms once more, feeling nothing more than helpless at the current moment. Rhodey’s expression remained soft and, sensing that Tony was done speaking, he took the opportunity to respond.

“There isn’t exactly much I can do to fix the situation because that’s all up to you, but, Tony,” the man started, taking a small pause, “if you really are as bad as you say you are, then why are you worrying so much about him?” The billionaire froze at this, eyes widening, and he slowly pulled his hands away from his face. He slowly opened his mouth to try to argue, but no words came to mind, causing him to close his mouth again and stare blankly in front of him. (He’s right, he’s right--but he can’t be right, I can’t deal with a kid, I--)

“Come on, why don’t we go take a small walk?” Rhodey offered with a small smile, gently nudging his arm. “Take your mind off of this.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tony said half-heartedly, and his friend gave a playful huff of annoyance.

“Come on, Tony,” the man urged, and the hero looked over at him, eyeing him for a few moments.

“I’m bringing my coffee,” Tony stated, eliciting a chuckle from Rhodey.

“Alright. Fine by me.” With that, Rhodey stood up, pushing the stool back in its place and, begrudgingly, Tony followed his example, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip of the liquid as he did so. The two walked to the edge of the room and out the right exit, and began making their way down the hallway it extended into, settling into a comfortable silence as they walked. Tony held his coffee cup close to his mouth, arms wrapped around his chest, and absentmindedly looked through the glass walls, watching people walk through the building at random. Rhodey stole a glance at him at his side, a series of unidentifiable emotions passing across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. After a few moments, the billionaire started to shift his eyes back to the area in front of him, and the lieutenant colonel’s head quickly whipped forward, and he cleared his throat slightly before speaking.

“So, how’s everything with Pepper?” Rhodey cut through the silence, stealing a glance at the man.

“Distant, as of lately,” Tony responded softly. “Both of us have been really busy--SI sales are kinda wonky from the whole Ultron thing still, and I’m trying to deal with the Thanos stuff.”

“Thanos?” Rhodey asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“The stuff,” the hero said with a simple point up to the sky. Understanding dawned on the lieutenant colonel’s face, and he gave a soft nod.

“Huh.” Rhodey paused. “Who the hell names their kid Thanos?”

Tony was slightly embarrassed by the volume of the snort the question forced out of him, and he quickly covered his mouth with a hand, a small blush unconsciously making its way onto his cheeks. His friend looked over at him with amusement clearly visible on his face.

“I’m serious. It’s a weird-ass name.” he continued, and Tony chuckled, shrugging.

“I dunno, some douchebag,” the billionaire responded, taking another sip of coffee.

“Bet he looks like one too,” Rhodey muttered.

“Probably.” The conversation lulled before Tony spoke again. “I’ve come up with a new idea recently.”

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“It’s a sort of memory projection...thing. For therapy. I want it to be able to scan the user’s brain and help project memories--preferably traumatic ones--to help them be able to heal and stuff,” Tony explained, and his friend’s eyes widened slightly as he continued to look at him.

“That’s a great idea,” the man said honestly, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “What brought this on?”

“Dunno,” Tony shrugged. “I was thinking I could use Vision’s stone as a starting point for where to go with the program and whatnot. I’ve been trying to decide on a name too. Something like, I don’t know, Augmented Binary Capsule or…” He made a gesture with his hands, words trailing off.

“Retro-Framing?” Rhodey offered. “Binary Retro-Framer?” Eyes widening, Tony snapped, turning dramatically to look at the man with his usual Tony Stark flare.

“Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing,” Tony said with a wide smile, meeting Rhodey’s eyes.

“Or BARF,” his friend responded, lips trembling as he forced a smile back. “For short.” Tony paused his movements at this, and Rhodey followed, unable to hold back a smile. The two continued to stare at each other, the weight of the words still lingering in the air. Both of their expressions started to suspiciously curl upwards, smiles growing larger and larger, until, like a rubber-band snapping, they burst into loud, boisterous laughter. The sudden noise caught the attention of some of the employees passing through the area, and a few of them turned to the pair, startled, but once they noticed who they were they went back to their tasks all the same. Tony clutched his stomach as he continued to howl with laughter, the high making him slightly hysterical, and Rhodey stumbled slightly and had to lean against the wall because he was weak with giddy laughter. Eventually, though, their laughs started to die down, and soon they were left only with flushed faces and teary eyes, strength returning to them.

“Ah god,” Tony said breathlessly, a few more chuckles escaping him before he could continue. “That was great.” He wiped his eyes with his hand, softly giggling. (Giggling? Tony Stark didn’t giggle. No--stop it, he does not.)

“I don’t think we’ve laughed like that since college,” Rhodey mused, lips still extended in a wide smile.

“Yeah…” Tony muttered with a small sigh, finally able to catch his breath.

“Hey, remember when we went to McNamara’s party?” Rhodey asked, and a smirk rose to Tony’s lips.

“You mean Jake the kiss-ass?” He responded with a quirk of his eyebrow, and Rhodey laughed.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “And the entire school came up with a plot to fuck up his house, and we ended up trashing the whole space?” Tony nodded in response, the two rounding a corner as his friend continued to reminisce. “I remember we went up to his dad’s room and hacked into his computer to look at his search history, and we ended up finding this weird porn site or some shit, and…”

Still listening to his friend’s words, Tony’s eyes started to wander off, and he peered into the room next to them, and as soon as he caught sight of the figures standing inside he froze. Towards the middle of the room stood none other than Clint, Steve, and Peter (nokidsnokidsnokids--), the latter two standing on top of a mat with the former off to the side, presumably going over rules. He watched with a petrified stare as Peter made his way over to the edge of the mat to set something down--a phone, he noticed, lips quirking up slightly because ah, the joys of today’s youth--and the boy slowly began looking upwards, all but freezing as he met Tony’s eyes. As soon as those wide doe-eyes met his own, the billionaire felt a jolt of some sort of weird twist of emotions pass through his body and his chest tightened, causing his body to tense. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Peter’s, and with every moment their eyes stayed locked Tony found it harder and harder to move away. Suddenly, the boy’s head jerked away, and a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding shakily left his lungs. Peter then made his way back onto the mat, and the man still found himself staring at him, watching as he dipped into a fighting stance and began sparring with Steve.

“...which was so fucking funny to watch, and--Tony?” Rhodey paused, noticing the man’s actions, and his smile slowly dropped from his face. Hearing no response, he furrowed his eyebrows, following the billionaire’s eyeline and noticing the two enhanced beings sparring in the middle of the room. The two danced around each other, effectively throwing and dodging strikes, and Rhodey’s expression softened noticing the younger of the two. “That him?”

“Yeah,” Tony whispered, not taking his eyes off the pair. Rhodey started watching them as well, eyes widening as the two swifty traded punches and kicks in an intricate dance that was almost too fast for him to see. Peter then crouched down in front of the large soldier’s form and launched himself into the air with an inhuman strength, flipping over Steve and kicking at his back, effectively pushing him to the mat. The lieutenant colonel’s eyebrows raised and he whistled in surprise.

“Either Steve is pulling his punches or the kid is hella strong because he just kicked Cap’s ass,” Rhodey commented, his expression a more muted version of the one of shock Clint was now bearing. Tony ignored the painful lurch of his heart as the archer gave the kid a high-five, the pair breaking out in hearty expressions of happiness.

“Probably a mixture of both,” he responded, taking a sip of his now somewhat-cold coffee. “Kid said he was enhanced. Apparently a part of the team, too.” Rhodey then looked over at him, noticing his slight shift in attitude as the trio exchanged pleasantries, expression mellowing.

“Tony, you don’t need to be scared,” he said after a pause, and Tony gave him a look.

“Rhodey.”

“I’m serious,” the lieutenant colonel said. “Just talk to him.” The billionaire fell silent at his, his will to argue fleeting, and Rhodey took it as an opportunity to continue. “You won’t know what he’s really thinking until you do.”

“I know,” Tony said softly. He swallowed harshly, eyes dropping to the floor as he clutched his cup a little tighter. Taking a small breath, he spoke, “I--”

“Boss, a man who is calling himself Doctor Strange has arrived,” FRIDAY’s voice rang throughout the hallway, and both Tony and Rhodey’s heads snapped upwards towards the ceiling.

“Alert the team,” Tony said quickly, body becoming tense. “Where is he?”

“In the common room. He says it is important.”

“Doctor Strange?” Rhodey questioned, giving Tony a look.

“Don’t question it,” he muttered, quickly starting to jog towards the common room. His friend silently followed, keeping pace with him as they made their way through the hallways they had just traversed when, eventually, they re-entered the kitchen. Quickly setting down his coffee cup on the counter, Tony moved around the corner only to come face to face with a man brandishing a strikingly familiar goatee (He’d have to ask more about that later) and clothing that looked like it came right out of some greek tragedy or Harry Potter or something. He unconsciously gave him a look, to which Strange countered with a glare.

“Strange,” Steve said as he entered the room, Clint and Peter following close behind. The two enhanced were slightly out of breath and a little sweaty, and Clint cocked an eyebrow noticing Strange’s clothing.

“Um, is that getup normal or…” Clint trailed off as Strange eyed him with a similar glare, his cloak shifting on his back. (What the fuck?)

“Right,” the archer muttered. “Not the time.”

More footsteps resounded around the area, and soon, Natasha, Wanda, and Sam had entered the room. Strange exhaled softly as soon as they got settled and turned to address the room.

“I found the guardians,” he announced. For a moment, a spark of excitement lit up in Tony’s chest, but it quickly deflated noticing the sorcerer’s oddly pale face, the nervous expression he was trying to conceal slightly slipping through his mask.

Peter’s eyes lit up. “You did?! That’s great!”

“Yeah, great,” Tony repeated, eyeing the man suspiciously. Wanda crossed her arms.

“What happened?” She asked, and Strange let out a slightly resigned breath.

“Their ship was shot down. On accident.” Tony felt the wince the man gave after those words escaped his mouth.

“What?” Sam asked incredulously, and Natasha’s eyes widened.

“You shot them down?!”

“Well, yes--but--” Tony cut him off.

“Great. Just great,” the billionaire said, throwing his hands out dramatically. “You see, this is why science is more reliable. I could’ve just made a tracker and--”

“But.” Strange interrupted, sending Tony a glare. “Before you go and get livid--they’re all alive and they landed on Earth.”

“Yeah, sure, they landed on Earth but they probably won’t like us all that much,” Clint said.

“Well, maybe Rocket and Gamora will be upset--I’m not sure because I haven’t really met them--but the rest of them are pretty forgiving from what I’ve gathered. It should be fine,” Peter said.

“Thank you, Peter,” Strange spoke with a smile, with Peter returned readily.

“No problem, Mr. Strange!” The spiderling said happily. “I’m sure it was an accident.” Tony huffed, crossing his arms around his chest. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, but he opted to feign ignorance and ignored it.

“Strange, are you doing alright?” Steve asked after a moment, taking in the man’s dark circles and tired expression. Tony took note of this (familiar) sight, almost letting out a laugh at the harsh, sarcastic smile Strange gave the soldier in return.

“Just peachy,” the sorcerer said tightly. Me too, the billionaire mused with an internal grin.

“Alright,” Steve responded, already much too familiar with a stubborn resistance to honesty. The others seemed to share the sentiment, each of them displaying their own variation of “Oh god, not another one” on their faces, aside from Peter, who had a wistful smile plastered on his face.

“No news on the reality stone?” Nataasha eventually asked after a brief pause.

“Unfortunately, no,” Strange responded with a soft sigh. “I’m still working on that one, though the guardian may be able to speed up the process once we get in contact.”

“Speaking of, where exactly did their ship land?” Clint asked, and the sorcerer paused.

“Um…” Trailing off, Strange’s hands started to glow a muted orange, the light extended to his eyes for a small moment before fading. “Rose Hill, Tennessee.”

Tony’s body went cold.

“I-I’m sorry, could you say that again?” The billionaire stammered, letting out a slightly nervous chuckle.

Strange’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Rose Hill, Tennessee?”

Almost instantly, Tony the blood drain from his face as memories of forests, potato guns, anxiety attacks, a broken suit, and one, small boy filled his mind, the others turning to him with questioning stares as a lump began to form in his throat.

“...shit.”

Somewhere, in a small, wooden shed situated in a small town in the middle of the forest was a twelve-year-old boy, seated on a stool with earbuds in, screwdriver in hand, tinkering with a small metal chip. Technology unlike anything one would expect out of such a small town was splayed out across the shed, blue lights illuminating his face as music danced in his ears, and the boy shifted slightly in his seat as he continued to work, a small smile on his face as he did so. As he continued to work, the soft sounds of voices started to cut into the music, sharp, biting tones of anger, but the boy opted to ignore them and resumed his activities. Though, the longer he worked, the louder the voices got, and eventually, after a few minutes, he threw down his screwdriver, burying his face in his hands with a groan.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harley grumbled, ripping out his earbuds and pushing out his stool. “Can’t get a moment of peace and quiet around here.” Standing up, Harley began to make his way over to the window of the shed, muffled words working their way into the room from outside.

“--because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going!”

“No, it’s your fault because you’re so damn loud! If you weren’t yappin’ away in the back I wouldn’t have had to look back to shut you all up in the first place!”

“Oh, so you’re blaming everyone else now?” A scoff. “I see how it is.”

“...don’t give me that look.”

“What? What look? What are you talking about?”

“That look.”

“What look?!”

Peeking outside, Harley looked into the woods to find that there was a group of individuals walking through the woods, noticeably battered and beaten. As they got closer, he could make out the two that were arguing, which appeared to be a man and a--was that a talking raccoon?--smaller, rodent-like figure. As they continued to banter, they eventually stopped, and a woman, who’s skin appeared to be green, stopped to their side, shaking her head with visible disappointment. On the opposite side of the pair was a large gray-ish bald man with a small living tree cowering behind him, and next to them stood a woman with antennae and black eyes.

“The look that makes me feel like this is my fault!” The rodent (?) continued, arms out in an exasperated gesture.

“Oh, so you admit it?” The man asked, raising an eyebrow, and the rodent sputtered.

“What--no! No--are you even listening to me?!”

“Guys, calm down,” the green woman said, and the man shook his head.

“No, Gamora. It’s okay, you don’t need to handle this. I got it, I’ll put him in his place.”

“‘My place?!’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The rodent exclaimed.

“Nothing. Just, y’know,” The man smirked, “the place where a raccoon is supposed to be. The woman--Gamora (What kind of name is Gamora?)--rolled her eyes, turning away from the pair as the now-confirmed raccoon seethed with rage.

“You motherfucker!” With that, the raccoon launched itself onto the man and started scratching furiously at him in a blind fit of rage.

“Rocket--ow, ow, ow! Stop it!”

“I thought I told you not to call me a raccoon!”

“Ow!!”

Staring blankly, Harley took a few steps backwards and blinked. His mouth opened and closed mutely as his brain scrambled to process what his eyes were laying upon. The man and raccoon’s argument fading into the background, Harley looked down, expression still frozen in the same stunned form, and he continued to blink dumbly, mind only functioning enough to produce one, single thought.

Fuck you, Tony.