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Chapter Text

For the most part, vigilantes don’t really appear on the Avengers’ radar. 

In Tony’s defense, it had very little to do with the vigilantes as individuals and much more to do with the fact that they’re vigilantes. The Avengers, on the other hand, are Heroes with a capital ‘H’. Tony and the other Avengers tend to keep to their forte - big, life-threatening villians that tear up all of New York and plan to conquer the world - while vigilantes have their own, more close to home focus - beating up muggers and stopping bank robberies, maybe taking down the occasional villain, lowercase ‘v’. As far Tony was concerned, it was a good balance. They both had their purposes in this rather messed-up society. 

There was once a time when Tony would hear something about one of them and show interest, such as the bombings in Hell’s Kitchen supposedly done by a mysterious Man in Black who would later be known as Daredevil. Of course, Tony’s interest was mostly in part with Daredevil being the first vigilante of New York, soon followed by various others. New York was loaded with crime, plenty for any and all vigilantes that wanted to make a living punching people in the face. It also turned out that Daredevil was framed by a man of the name Wilson Fisk, and vigilantes being framed by their respective villains became quite a trend. Tony had JARVIS - and then eventually FRIDAY - monitor vigilante news and keep tabs on it, but rarely viewed the news himself. Best not to mess the vigilante-Hero balance.

Or that was the plan, until Tony Stark met Spiderman, who was really Spiderkid, and then took Spiderkid to Germany to fight a bunch of other Avengers. And now Tony Stark was responsible for the kid, having introduced the vigilante - and what child goes out a fights crime?!? - to the Hero side of things. For the most part, Spiderman did still keep to his patrolling around and shooting webs at bad guys. But Tony now felt responsible for what happened to him, and he had nobody to blame but himself. 

So when Peter shows up to his internship - which was a great excuse to check up on the kid as well as being an actual legit thing - with some bruises and a split lip, Tony decides that that’s it, enough is enough. It’s bad enough having a fifteen-year-old running around New York punching dudes, it’s worse having one running around that doesn’t know how to really fight or defend himself. 

When Tony had pitched the idea to the kid, he’d expected some backlash. Peter did have some extreme superstrength going on, he could definitely handle himself relying solely on that. Tony had a whole speech prepared about the trials and tribulations of being a Hero and that it was totally possible Peter would meet somebody whose strength could match his own and that  numbers can overwhelm strength and also bullets and lasers were quite effective and can’t really be punched. But Peter seemed excited by the prospect, eagerly accepting the offer. It brought a smile to Tony’s face.

Which is how Tony found himself finally formally introducing Peter ‘Spiderman’ Parker to other the Avengers 0 with Peter’s permission of course - so that those on the team that didn’t just shoot laser beams at their enemies could teach the kid a thing or two.

“This is Peter.” Tony gestured the teenager, who waved at the other Avengers. Said teenager was standing on the ceiling of the common room, which was pretty far up, just for the drama of it all. 

“Oh wow. I’m, really meeting you guys.” Peter said, sounding gobsmacked. The others didn’t look too surprised that Tony’s intern was on the ceiling, which really, what was the point of taking a vigilante under your wing if you don’t get to show off a bit?

“Spiderman, I presume?” Natasha said with a delicately raised eyebrow. Peter dropped down from the ceiling, landing in a crouch, bare feet on the carpet. He stood up and put out a hand to the Avengers that Tony had gathered together. It wasn’t all of them, just Natasha, Steve, Clint, and Sam. After the whole Accords fallout, most of the other Avengers decided to take a ‘break’ from living in the tower, and getting them all together for anything less than a mission or movie night was quite the chore and usually required bribes. Natasha shook the offered hand, as did Steve, Clint, and Sam in turn.

“We’ve met before.” Steve said as he shook Peter’s hand and Peter ducked his head. 

“Meeting during a battle doesn’t count as meeting.” Clint pointed out. 

“Sorry about that. The, uh, Tony-” Peter floundered around for words. Steve saved him with a pat on the back and a warm smile.

“Hey, it’s alright. That’s behind us now.” Steve reassured him. Tony didn’t miss how his eyes flicked over to him, though, and Tony dropped his gaze. 

The Accords, as well as the Winter Soldier Fiasco, were an absolute mess that was better left unmentioned when possible. The remaining Avengers had returned to a very awkward and lonely tower. The Accords became more of a nuisance than a help as Villians realized that, now that the Avengers had so many hoops to jump through, they could wreak havoc and be on their merry way before the Heroes could set foot on the warzone. The Winter Soldier thing… the more left unsaid about it the better. At the end of the day, the Accords were pulled (though currently there was supposedly something else to take their place in the works) and Tony learned to suck up his pride and eat crow to get the rest of the Avengers back on the team. Things were still tense, but Tony hadn’t realized how used to having them, having so many friends, he’d gotten until they were all gone. 

“Isn’t he a little young to be an Avenger?” Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow, and next to Tony Peter bristled slightly.

“The kid can lift an airplane, are you really going to try telling him what he can and can’t do?” Tony shot back and Sam gave a conceding shrug at that. “Anyway, Peter’s more like a Backup Avenger, he’s more into that vigilante stuff.” Tony patted Peter on the back. “But Peter’s also never learned to fight.”

“You want us to teach him.” Clint put the pieces together.

“ I want you to teach me.” Peter stepped forward. “I’m strong, but I could be so much better if I knew what I was doing.” Tony grinned and looked at the other four. Natasha folded her arms, eyes flicking over Peter appraisingly.

“If I were to teach you, it will not be easy. I won’t be teaching you as I was taught, but it would still be intense. I’ll demand only your best, all of your focus. Will you be able to give me that?” Natasha asked, eyes somehow managing to be emotionless, like she didn’t care what Peter answer, and yet intense at the same time. 

“Yes, yeah, of course.” Peter said with only a fraction of a second of hesitation. Natasha continued to stare at him until she had Peter fidgeting under the scrutiny. Finally, she nodded with the barest of smiles.

“Well, I don’t know what I have to offer that the Black Widow doesn’t,” Sam said, “But sure, I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Sure, why not?” Clint said with a shrug. 

“Just as long as you don’t steal my shield from me again.” Steve agreed, actually smirking a bit as Peter started sputtering for an excuse or explanation. Tony grinned again. 

“Well, why don’t you get started?” Tony gestured to the elevator, grin widening as the five headed down to the gym. Maybe Peter wasn’t an Avenger, and Tony didn’t really want to be the one responsible for adding a kid for the roster, but having them all in one place felt right. Peter cast one look back at Tony, looking half overjoyed to be surrounded by Heroes, the other half very clearly begging Tony to come along. Tony just chuckled and waved as the elevator doors shut. “Keep him in one piece, would ya?”

oOo

“He’s got a lot of promise.” Steve said as he entered the kitchen. Clint and Sam weren’t with him, probably having headed back to their respective homes, but Natasha walked in behind him. “Maybe a little rough around the edges, but there’s a lot there to work with.”

“Did you break any of his bones? Did he break any of your bones?” Tony asked, excited to hear about how the training had gone. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to be there for whatever the four Avengers had in mind for training a spider vigilante, but he also wanted to know if the kid would sink or swim if left with other Heroes. Could be something important to know for team-ups with other Avengers, or who knew, maybe even other vigilantes. 

“No, we didn’t do anything intense yet. Mostly just sent him through an obstacle course, any weapon proficiency, see how he did in some basic hand-to-hand. Sam mentioned Peter caught Bucky’s arm no problem, and I’m the one who dropped the jet bridge on him to begin with, but it’s still amazing seeing his strength in action.” Steve grabbed a cup out of the cupboard while Natasha went rooting through the fridge for something to eat and Tony did his best to hide his flinch as the mention of Bucky. “He managed to flip Natasha at one point, though I think that had more to do with his powers than skill.” 

“He flipped Nat?! FRIDAY, please tell me we have a recording of that.”

“We do. I’ll project it for you right now.” FRIDAY’s voice filtered through the speakers and a hologram appeared on the kitchen island. It showed Natasha circling Peter like a shark, all poise and self-assuredness. The audio in the video was crystal-clear, and there was clearly no sound made by her feet. Peter’s arms were up in fists and he was moving in a much smaller circle, keeping his eyes on Natasha. In a flash Natasha lunged forward and Peter ducked down. It was hard to see exactly what happened, but a second later Natasha was flipping through the air. She landed neatly on her feet, but her surprise was evident on her face.

“It was impressive.” Natasha agreed. “FRIDAY, could you replay the video?”

“I can’t believe you let the kid even touch you.” Tony elbowed Natasha. She shrugged, still looking at the video. 

“We’ve got to give him something to work with.” She touched the video and rewound it, playing it slower, analyzing it like he’d seen her do with other videos of spars. “He hasn’t had any previous training?”

“No?” Tony was fairly sure he hadn’t, but then again he didn’t know Peter’s entire life story.  Natasha nodded. “Far as I know, he’s kind of a Captain America with ‘sick until super powers’ kind of deal. Hey, maybe you guys can talk about that!” Steve gave a huff of laughter.

“Yeah, guess we could.” He was smiling, which was good. There were days Steve could barely stand to be in the same room in Tony (or Tony couldn’t be in the same room as Cap) but today was a good day for both of them. They were becoming more frequent than the bad ones. “He seems like a good kid.”

“He does. He is.” Tony said, a warm smile gracing his face as he thought about Peter. “Maybe I should teach him how to use the Ironman suit-“

“Tony,” Steve said in a ‘Captain-America-thinks-this-is-a-bad-idea’ tone, which really just made Tony want to teach Peter more. A few adjustments and it could probably fit him, even just for a short while… “Tony! He’s a kid!”

“The suit is totally safe. It is!” Tony defended to Steve’s disbelieving flat look. Natasha smirked at them as she ate some leftover chinese takeout.

Chapter Text

“Okay, go.” 

Sam hit the stopwatch and Peter, in his Spiderman suit, ran straight at Stark Tower - and then started scaling it. It was Peter’s third day of training, chosen to be later in the evening this time, and the Avengers were still trying to figure out a schedule that worked with Peter’s schooling, as well as figuring out a good workout routine for somebody enhanced like Peter. Steve was able to give them some good ideas, having super strength himself, but the fact still remained that Peter needed either some pretty specialized equipment to challenge him, or they were going to have to get creative. 

Hence swapping out a rockwall for an entire building. 

It was also the first time Tony was allowing himself to tag along and see how the training was going. Clint was waiting for Peter at the top of the building and Sam was circling it, ready to catch the kid if he fell, which left Steve, Natasha, and Tony at the bottom. 

“So what’s next, going to the trainyard and lifting abandoned train cars?” Tony joked. He was met with silence. “Wait, please tell me that’s on the agenda. Please, I’m begging you, tell me you’re planning to make the miraculous spider boy lift train cars.” 

“It’s not… off the list.” Steve conceded, avoiding Tony’s eyes as he scratched the back of his head self-conciously.

“Oh my god, this is the actual best day of my life.” Tony laughed, wiping fake tears from his eyes. Natasha kept her eyes on Spiderman as he continued to scale the building, making pretty good time as far as Tony was concerned. “Anyway, what did I miss from last time?” The last training, Tony hadn’t gone to. Not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because it had been one of the Bad days between him and Steve, and he didn’t want to make Peter watch him strangle and/or be strangled by America’s Golden Boy. All four of the other Avengers had left right after Peter had apparently announced he had ‘patrol’ to be on, and God that must be annoying, and when did the kid sleep? And sure, Tony could and did look at the recordings that FRIDAY had so nicely held on to, but he was dying to hear more about what his fellow Heroes thought about Peter. 

“We went more over weapons than combat.” Natasha said. “We’re still trying to get a good read and baseline to work with for him. He didn’t seem to know much about guns, although…” She trailed off, which was very unlike her, and it sent a chill up Tony’s spine. Her question on whether Peter had had training before came back to the forefront of his mind, and now he turned it over, starting to realize there may’ve been more to it than he’d originally thought. What had Natasha noticed that first day?

“He liked the big guns.” Steve finished for Natasha, and Tony frowned.

“I mean, he’s a teenager, so that checks out.” Steve and Natasha shared a look.. 

“He was more comfortable with the big guns, guns designed with the express purpose of killing other human beings.” Natasha explained. 

“Not that he was afraid of the handguns,” Steve added, “And it wasn’t like he was hitting bull’s eyes with any of the guns, but he wasn’t surprised by the recoil, or the holes they left in the targets.”

“And you’re sure it’s not just violent video game desensitization? Or, hey, he has super strength, maybe he just didn’t notice the recoil?” Tony suggested and Steve’s shoulders stiffened. Tony breathed in a deep breathe, knowing that now was a good time to start choosing words a bit more carefully. “I’m not doubting you,” Tony said and though Steve clearly thought otherwise, just saying it made the supersoldier relax a bit more, “But Peter’s fifteen, he’s a math and science nerd, he had health problems before getting bit by a radioactive spider. I don’t think he’s some kind of child soldier or whatever it is you’re trying to imply.”

“We’re not trying to imply that,” Natasha soothed, but now it was Tony’s turn to look disbelieving, “But I do think you should consider how well you really know Peter Parker. Who’s to say that being Spiderman is the only secret he keeps?” 

Tony’s stomach rolled around uncomfortably at the implications that Peter could be hiding some dangerous secret. The worst part was that he was well aware Natasha knew what she was talking about, being a master of secrets herself. After finding out Spiderman’s identity and Tony’s initial dig into Who Is Peter Parker, after he’d gotten to know Peter himself a bit more, he’d tried to make an effort to leave the kid some privacy - which, really, for Tony who loved to know things, was no small feat. Now, though, hearing that there may be something he missed, it made his anxiety spike. 

“I’ll talk to him.” Tony promised. Steve made a move like he was going to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and then aborted the movement, hand falling to his side and just settling for giving Tony an empathetic look. 

“I’m sure there’s a good answer.” God, Steve sounded like he believed that. Tony prayed he was right. 

“Well, we’ve got a base for how fast he can climb the tower.” Sam landed in front of them, oblivious to the conversation that had just happened, as well as the slight tension in the air.. “Don’t really know if it’s making good time or bad time for a mutated teenager, but we have it. I guess we try and improve it? I’d suggest eventually having him try to evade attacks while climbing, but I don’t want to destroy the tower or scare the civilians…” Sam’s voice trailed off.

“We’ll figure something out.” Tony assured, already starting to think about cloaking mechanisms, or what if the rock wall inside went up the entire building… “What’s up next?” 

oOo

Tony managed to catch Peter before he left. 

“You’re not going out on patrol this late at night, are you?” Tony asked with a raised eyebrow as Peter slipped into his Spiderman suit, having taken it off when they got inside for the rest of the training, which consisted mostly of testing out how comfortable Peter was with various weapons. They had a rather large collection, most of which were Natasha’s. She clearly went easy on Peter with all of them, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t easily establish that she was extremely proficient with each and every weapon in their arsenal. Hell, Tony wouldn’t be surprised if she had no trouble piloting one of the Ironman suits. 

“Swinging home as Peter Parker seems like an easy way to get my identity revealed.” Peter said with a smile and a shrug. He’d taken a pretty bad hit from Natasha at one point that had looked like it was going to bruise, and it had, but it was already basically healed. Man, what Tony wouldn’t give for a healing factor like that. 

“You still want to do this? It’s going to start getting harder, once they figure out exactly how to train you. I mean, you’ve never gone through intense training, or any kind of battle training of any kind before, right?” Nice Tony, being really smooth here. Just slipped it right in. Peter was looking down at his mask, rubbing at the fabric with his thumb.

“Actually,” Peter started and Tony’s heart sank. No, maybe it’s nothing bad. Don’t get upset yet Tony. Hadn’t he already learned what happened when he acted before thinking? “I have been taught… self defense. Just a bit. From my Spanish tutor.” 

“Spanish Tutor?” Tony couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice as his heart soared. Of course, he was overreacting for nothing. “Don’t you have A’s in Spanish?”

“Yeah, because I have a tutor. We meet twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. I, probably should’ve mentioned that. You guys probably need to know that. For when we’re scheduling, uh, more training and stuff.” Peter continued to rub at the fabric of his mask, not meeting Tony’s eyes, and Tony gave a huff of amusement.

“Did you think I was going to be upset? That you had a tutor?” Tony asked incredulously. Peter fidgeted. 

“I don’t know, maybe. Or maybe you’d try to convince me to drop him, y’know, since I already have a lot going on, but my Spanish has gotten so much better! I’m really making progress, uh, understanding stuff.” Tony sighed, rolled his eyes, and smiled. 

“Alright, you can keep learning Spanish. But maybe try to sleep at some point?” 

“Like you’re one to talk?” Peter teased right back, finally seeming to be past whatever nerves he’d been tackling. All over Spanish? Tony shook his head fondly.

“Get out of here before May comes for my head.” Tony lightly shoved his shoulder. Peter smiled brilliantly, pulling the mask back on and leaping off of the top of Avengers’ tower, into the night. Tony walked closer to the edge and looked out at the city lights, watching as a thread of white connected with a building and Spiderman’s freefall turning into an arch, swinging him back up to the sky. Tony could just make out a ‘WHOOP!’ and chuckled slightly. Damn, the kid had really just grown on him like mold.

“He’s not going to be patrolling tonight, is he? Doesn’t he have school tomorrow?” Tony hadn’t noticed Clint come up behind him and flinched. And then realized that Peter had never answered his first question.

“Shit. Peter!” 

oOo

“He’s late.” Natasha observed. She didn’t sound judgemental of it, just stating a fact. 

“I’ll call him.” Tony sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Natasha shook her head. 

“No, don’t.” Clint said this time. The three of them were waiting outside of Avengers’ Tower for their web-crawling friend. Today was the first day Peter could be late, the first of an actual concrete schedule after a couple weeks of crazy and sporadic training. “I want to see if he’s coming or not.” 

“There’ll have to be consequences for not showing up.” Natasha mused. 

“No, there doesn’t.” Tony frowned. “He’s a kid, Nat, he does have a lot of things going on. And we scheduled it on a Tuesday evening. He’s probably just learning how to say ‘sorry I’m late’ in Spanish.” Natasha shrugged. 

“I told him I needed his full focus and devotion. He wanted us to teach him.” Natasha pointed out. Tony couldn’t argue with that. He sighed. 

“Only if Steve and Sam agree with whatever it is.” He requested. They weren’t here today. Today was going to be spy training or something, whatever it was that Natasha and Clint could do that Steve and Sam couldn’t. Somehow, this had become less of ‘make sure Peter has basic skills to stay alive on them there streets’ and more ‘train the boy to really be an Avenger’, which, okay, Tony really did want Peter to be an Avenger when he was older, so he was completely on board with this. 

“I’m not going to do anything that was done to me.” Natasha said, voice smooth as silk and setting Tony’s fight-or-flight instinct on edge. 

“Of course not! I didn’t think you would! I’m just saying, maybe wait for the other two first.” He defended himself. 

“Oh, it’s Peter!” Clint pushed off the side Avengers Tower, which he’d been leaning against. Then his face positively lit up. “And he’s with Matt!” 

“Matt?” Tony asked. He looked down the street. Peter was walking towards them, clearly talking about something. There was a man next to him, an adult man who was holding on to Peter’s arm and Tony took a protective step forward before he noticed the white cane the man was holding in his other hand and the dark pair of glasses on his face. A blind dude? Where did Peter pick him up? “Who’s Matt?”

“Oh, he’s my lawyer.” Clint clarified. “Well, him and Foggy.” 

“You’re never told me about a Matt.” Natasha said, once again in that very carefully not judgemental voice. Clint didn’t seem affected by it, just waving over at Peter and Matt. Peter waved back, still walking a steady pace. 

“He’s new, helping Laura and I with a stupid thing.” At the curious looks from both Tony and Natasha, the archer sighed, rolling his eyes. “Some people were trying to sue us over something stupid and he’s helping us out. Don’t worry about it, it’s just domestic normal-people stuff, really. Not everything comes back to being Avengers, Tony.”

“- that you won’t need any help heading back?” Tony caught the tailend of what Peter said to Matt. 

“Now that I know the way, I should be fine.” Matt said. 

“We’re here, by the way… Oh! Uh, Tony, Clint, and Natasha are just to our right.” Peter narrated as he and Matt came to a stop before the three Avengers. Matt let go of Peter’s arm and rested both of his hands on top of his cane, face directed in their general direction. There was a small kind of half-smile-almost-smirk on his face. Peter turned his attention to the Avengers, looking sheepish. “Sorry I’m late, but Matt wanted to meet you guys. He’s heard about my internship,” Peter stressed the word internship, and Tony prayed that Clint and Natasha would be teaching him something about subtlety, “And wanted to meet you guys. And see how far it was from, uh, his office, to know how long we have to study, now that I have this afterwards.”

“Matthew Murdock,” Matt extended his hand and Tony and Natasha shook it cordially, and then as Clint shook his hand, said, “And you wouldn’t happen to be the same Clint I’m thinking of, would you?”

“Good to see you, Matt.” Clint said, grinning. 

“Can’t say it’s quite mutual.” Matt grinned back, “Sorry, we’re still working through some of the information we got back from the vet, it’s going to be a bit longer before we can move your case along.”

“Hey, it’s all good, I know you and Foggy have almost more clients than you can handle.” Peter looked between Clint and Matt. 

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Peter gaped, and Matt shrugged a bit.

“He’s a client. A little out of the way, but when Foggy and Karen heard the case involved a dog, I really didn’t have a choice but to take it.” Matt had a fond smile on his face as he said ‘Foggy and Karen’. Clint had mentioned ‘Foggy’ too, which, what the hell kind of name was Foggy? Oh Tony was so totally doing some digging on this dude.

“How do you know Peter?” Natasha asked.

“I’m his Spanish tutor.” Matt said with an easy going smile, head tilting ever-so-slightly to the side. “Didn’t he tell you he has Spanish lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays?” Okay, Tony probably should’ve figured that out, but to be fair he’d been so caught up in the fact that Clint knew the stranger that Peter was with, and that that stranger was a lawyer. And also blind, which shouldn’t make a difference but also still surprised Tony. Speaking of which…

“You just… tutor kids on the side?” Tony asked suspiciously. 

“Not usually, no. We have more clients than we know what to do with. But I helped him and his aunt with some legal trouble a bit ago, and while Foggy went over the details with May, Peter and I would go over Spanish. It just kind of stuck.” He shrugged. “What can I say, Peter’s a good kid, and he’s shown some real and impressive improvement.” Peter grinned at that, wide and bright and blinding. Matt’s hand went to his other wrist, touching something there and sighing, “Well, it was nice meeting you three, but I should start heading back to the office if I’m going to be back in time to get anything done.”

Matt waved and set off back down the street, cane tapping as he made his way to wherever his office was. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter apologized once more, “But Matt was insistent on coming. I swear, it won’t take that much time getting from Spanish to here. Next time I’ll be swinging.” 

“See? A totally legit and perfectly valid reason.” Tony gestured at Peter proudly.

“An excuse is still an excuse.” Natasha pointed out. “But… I suppose we can let it go this once. I was curious myself who this Spanish tutor of yours was. From here on out, though, I expect you to be on time, if not early. Every second of your training is important and should be treated as such.” Peter nodded seriously. 

“Yes, of course. I promise, I’ll do my absolute best.” Peter said as the four of them moved inside of the tower.

“And now I get to tell you that the ‘serious training’ you’re doing today is playing hide-and-seek in the tower. You get to hide, and Nat and I get to hunt you down with paintball guns.”

Chapter Text

Tony now had a file with the name Matthew Michael Murdock (Jesus what had his parents been thinking) added to Peter’s file. Apparently, the kid couldn’t have found himself a boring Joe Shmoe to be his Spanish teacher, no, he had to find a lawyer that had quite the story behind him.

A kid born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen, who saved a man from getting hit by a truck and was subsequently blinded by the chemicals that spilled from said truck, which kind of sounded fake but there had been a decent amount of coverage over the heroic act the poor nine-year-old had performed. His dad , Jonathan ‘Jack’ Murdock, had been a boxer and was shot and killed in an alley which, yup, that’s Hell’s Kitchen. Little Matty was then sent to a Catholic orphanage, never got adopted, got good grades but also apparently got into some fights in middle school and high school. He’d been left a rather large sum of money by Jack that was used to pay for law school. Went to Columbia, met his future law partner there, graduated Suma Cum Lauda, interned at Landman & Zack, then left to have his own small practice with Franklin Nelson that was dubbed Nelson and Murdock. 

And of course, the man’s story didn’t just stop there.  Oh no, apparently he’d been involved in a few big cases. His firm had been fundamental in the take down of Fisk a few years ago. There was a case involving the Irish mob, and shortly after they defended Frank Castle, aka the murderous vigilante known as the Punisher, and then the law firm had dissolved, due to ‘personal issues’. Murdock, on his own, took on some interesting cases. He won more than he lost, including a huge case over a paralyzed boy, taken pro bono. 

And then, and here’s the interesting part, Matthew Michael Murdock drops off the map. Three months of nothing. His old secretary paid the rent of an apartment that utility bills proved was not touched.

Fisk got moved to a penthouse and rumor goes that Murdock was on Fisk’s payroll. And Murdock has an actual trail to track for the first time in months. He visited Nelson, stole his friends wallet, and went to see an old client at the jail. The place became a warzone, and if the wet, Murdock-sized clothes on the floor of his apartment were anything to go off of, he managed to get out. Tony wasn’t exactly sure how, seeing as all of the footage from the security cameras was rather conveniently wiped clean.

Murdock and Nelson apparently kiss and make up, since they act as a Rahul Nadeem’s lawyers as the FBI agent revealed that Fisk had the FBI in his pocket and had a fake Daredevil running around. And just as suddenly as he’d vanished, Murdock was back with a new law firm: Nelson, Murdock, and Page. Originally based out of Nelson’s Meats (owned by Franklin’s brother), they now worked out of a renovated gym that Murdock and his dad used to frequent.

Maybe Tony would have to find some time to pay him a visit.

oOo

“Has Peter gone hunting before?”

This time it’s just Sam and Tony in the kitchen. Steve and Peter were still in the gym, doing some sparring. They could both deal and take inhuman amounts of damage (Peter to a greater amount than Steve) and so Peter was practicing using the fighting techniques Natasha had taught hm three days ago. And quite frankly, both Sam and Tony had gotten bored and gone upstairs to grab some snacks and beers.

“Pretty sure he’s never left New York, unless you’re talking about being hunted by Nat and Clint.” That training session had ended with Peter looking like some modern art piece and the tower had needed some deep cleaning. Next time, he was making them use paint that came out of carpet better.

Sam shook his head, looking thoughtfully at his beer bottle. 

“No, I mean, like, guns.” Tony’s hand tightened on his bottle. Dammit, not Sam too.

“Why?” Tony did his best to keep his voice level.

“His aims good. Better than I would’ve thought.” Sam explained. He didn’t have that look that Steve and Natasha had had, he just looked a bit impressed. “He’s a natural, and all that web slinging’s probably helped.”

Oh. It would, wouldn’t it? He’s got to aim those things after all, and there was no way that was easy. Especially when he was in the middle of falling. Tony made a mental note for something Clint and Peter could have in common. 

oOo

Saying that Nelson, Murdock, and Page had renovated Fogwell’s Gym was an extremely generous statement. 

Although there was a sign with their names on the front door, there was still a boxing ring in the middle of the room, a punching bag still hung down nearby, a set of various weights sat in a corner, and the place even had showers. There was a small kitchenette with coffee, and several chairs and tables set around the room. 

The biggest and clearest new addition was a set of three rooms with the words Nelson, Murdock, and Page on each respectively. Nelson and Murdock both had ‘Attorney at Law’ underneath their name while Page’s proclaimed ‘Private Investigator’.

It was ten in the morning, and the place was already filling up with people. An old woman walked in behind Tony with a casserole dish that she placed on a table next to the boxing ring that, if the other assorted foods were anything to go off of, had been placed there for that exact purpose. Somebody’s kid was messing around with the punching bag, and two others were running around the boxing ring. As Tony stood there, taking it all in, somebody came out of the shower room with hair that was still damp and sat down in one of the chairs.

“Can I help you?” 

A teenager approached Tony, a clipboard in her hands. Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I scheduled an appointment with Murdock for 10:15. I’m Tony Stark.” The girl didn’t react at his name, just looked at her list and jotted something down.

“Great. You’re in luck, he finished up with Mrs. June early, so you can head right in.”

“Thanks, Ms…?” Tony gave her a winning smile, and she did blush a bit and look away, clearly trying to look aloof. 

“Anise Nelson, I’m just their secretary.” Nelson. Maybe one of Franklin’s cousins? Could they not afford to pay an adult?

Tony went to Murdock’s door, not bothering knocking before entering. The lawyer was sitting at his desk, hands running over some papers - reading braille, Tony realized.  His head had been bent slightly down, but he straightened when Tony entered the room. He raised his eyebrows and nodded to Tony. 

“Tony Stark, I presume? You’re early.” Murdock collected the papers and set them aside,  clasping his hands together in front of him. He nodded to the front of his desk, where there were two chairs, “Please, take a seat. I’m curious what you wanted to meet with me about. It was my understanding that Stark Enterprises has an entire team of lawyers at its beck and call.” 

“This is more of a personal visit.” Tony explained, folding his arms and regarding the man. His knuckles, he observed, were rather red and aggravated looking, and there was a bruise on his cheek that hadn’t been there when Peter had brought him to the Tower. Interesting to see on a blind man, but Tony had heard bad things about Hell’s Kitchen these days, especially since the Battle of New York. Murdock’s head listed to the side.

“As respectfully as I can, Mr Stark, I’m a busy man, and there are a lot of people in Hell’s Kitchen who need my help.” Murdock sounded more amused than frustrated.

“I just can’t stop wondering why Peter is learning Spanish from a lawyer.” Tony leaned forward, knowing that staring the man in the eye would do little for intimidation but doing so out of habit anyway. 

“People can have multiple talents, Mr. Stark. You, after all, are both a billionaire and play superhero in your free time.” Murdock smiled and Tony bristled. He managed to keep himself from snapping that he wasn’t ‘playing’ hero, he was doing what he could, using his resources to help people. But he got the feeling that that was what Murdock wanted. God he hated lawyers. 

“Guess we do have that in common, being able to specialize in different areas,” He said instead, “Just like we both went missing. Except people know what happened to me. Where did you go, Matt?” Murdock stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, giving Tony a not-at-all sincere smile. Tony had seen many of those in his time, and gave his own back in return and hoped that Murdock would sense it or something.

“Why didn’t you just start with that, Mr. Stark? After Nelson & Murdock was dissolved, I was going through a hard place, personally. For my own mental health, I had to step away from Hell’s Kitchen and my job to find myself again.” Murdock said it all with that insincere smile and a tone that implied it was all so very reasonable. 

“A blind man just wanders off one day and neither of his friends go searching for him?” Tony pushes, and Murdock’s smile drops. 

“Mr. Stark, I am a busy man. I suspect you are too. If there’s something you’re trying to imply, I think you’ll find it easier to just say it.” 

“Maybe you weren’t involved with Fisk, but I don’t trust you, Matt. You seem like a good man, but you were gone for three months. I don’t trust you around Peter.” Tony stood up, hands on the table, looming over Murdock. Murdock angled his face upwards. 

“Than it’s a good thing it’s not your call to make.” Murdock stood up too, leaning forward slightly. This close, Tony could see Murdock’s eyes through his glasses. They stared very piercingly at Tony’s cheek, and it should’ve been almost funny but instead it was unnerving. “Can I be frank with you, Mr. Stark? I don’t trust you either. I’ve seen what power, especially monetary power, does to men, how it corrupts, how they stop viewing other people as people and start seeing them as objects, as means rather than ends. It’s happened to people I’ve known. But I don’t. Know. You. And it isn’t my call to make. So feel free to make more appointments, Mr. Stark, talk about how you think I’m lying, that I have something to hide, but keep in mind that I won’t be able to meet with you Tuesdays and Thursdays from four to seven, as I’ll be tutoring Peter during that time.”

Tony had heard those allegations against him before. They’d come from random people on the streets, from newscasters, from the mouths of his own teammates. And now they came from Matthew Murdock as he grinned with shark teeth. Tony hadn’t come here looking for a fight, he’d come looking for answers. 

“I’ll be seeing you again.” Tony said, a promise. 

“Please tell Anise to send in Mr. Acosta.” Murdock sat back down.

Tony went back over the conversation as he walked out. Murdock had wanted Tony upset. Easiest way to end a conversation. He’d backed Tony into a corner without him even noticing it, had led Tony into a trap to get him out as quickly as he could. The man was definitely hiding something. But he also had a point. Tony may not trust Murdock, but he trusted Peter. For now, he’d leave the blind lawyer alone. He could be patient. He’d get his answers. 

Chapter Text

Clint crouched on the rooftop, holding up a set of binoculars and watching as two men exited a truck and then entered the supposedly-abandoned building.

“Okay, that should be the last of them.” Clint whispered. Peter was crouching next to him, staring at the building and apparently having no problem seeing despite the distance. Why was it that everybody had advanced senses or cool suits (both, in Peter’s case) these days? Sometimes it felt like he and Nat were a dying breed.

“Now what?” Peter asked. He was wearing the full spiderman suit, while Clint was in something much less red and blue - some black and practical clothes, and okay there was a few accents of purple, but it was dark purple because Clint was a professional. 

“First we’re going to wait a bit. You have super-hearing, right? What can you hear.”

It had actually been Natasha’s idea for Clint to take Peter through the ropes of some basic reconnaissance. From what Clint could tell, most vigilantes tended to just dive into things head-first (and yeah, some Avengers too, their team was by no means perfect), and they couldn’t have that for their kid. Peter had actually protested, not so much at going on a small mission with Clint, but more that he could totally be stealthy. Clint had replied that he’d seen Spidey trying to be stealthy, and he was just a bit of a disgrace to the word.

“I hear… talking.” Peter reported, and Clint understood the need for Peter to wear a mask, but it really messed with Clint’s ability to read the kid. “They’re talking about a shipment. One’s supposed to going out tomorrow tonight, but the goods are being held in the building.” Clint was admittedly impressed by Peter’s hearing. Not that Clint knew much about hearing. The aids that Tony had made for him worked wonders, but they were nothing compared to whatever it was Peter’s ears did, well, not naturally per se, but did without technological help. 

“Great, that matches with what I already know. In a few minutes, we’re going to head inside and get the girls out.” 

“Girls?!” Peter at least managed to keep his exclamation a whisper-shout, but looked at Clint with an expression that even through the mask he could tell was frantic. “The shipment is of people?!”

“Welcome to the ports, kiddo, selling everything from heroin to your missing nextdoor neighbor.” Clint joked dryly. 

“I mean, I’ve heard about it, but…” Peter trailed off and Clint sighed, feeling a bit bad for pulling Peter out here. But if Peter was devoted to doing all this hero-work thing, he had to know the things he had to be on the lookout for. 

“We can go back to the Tower,” He suggested anyway. Peter was fifteen, and sure both Clint and Nat had had unconventional upbringings to say the least, but there was no reason for them bring that into Peter’s life. Peter shook his head though. 

“No. How could I? Now that I know there are people in there I can’t just leave .” And there it was, that spark that made the kid go out everyday to wrap bad guys up for the police, the thing that each of the Avengers had. No doubt that was what Tony had seen too, what had made the man so determined to get the kid under his wing. It was… a bit sad in a way, seeing how Peter was willing to throw away his childhood for all of this, but it was the kid’s choice and if they weren’t here helping him out, Peter would just be running off on his own. 

“Oka-” Clint started, but Peter shushed him, shifting around, head kind of tilted towards the building.

“I hear something.” He hissed and Clint got very still. He didn’t even try to hear whatever it was Peter was hearing. “It sounds like… fighting. Somebody’s beating up the guys.” Clint sighed and shook his head.

“Damn, I thought this might happen.” He stood up, hand going back and pulling out a grappling arrow. 

“What? Is it Natasha?” Peter stood up as well, a hand pointed towards the building in preparation to shoot a web. 

“Nah. We’re in Hell’s Kitchen right now, kiddo. You get two guesses on who it is and the first one doesn’t count.”

Clint let his arrow fly and hang-glided to the roof of the building while Peter swung over.

“Peter, you go get the girls, get them out of the building. I’m going to go see if Daredevil needs any help.” Clint ordered Peter and was able to catch a nod from the spider boy. 

The place didn’t have too much security, thank god, and Clint went through floor-by-floor, taking people out. So much for teaching Peter how to stealth. Peter had run off to wherever, and Clint was suddenly struck by the fact that he hadn’t told Peter where the girls were being kept and prayed Peter would be able to figure it out himself. There were four stories, and when Clint reached the first level his work was already done for him. He recognized the brutal handiwork of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen from the bloody faces of the men on the ground, the clearly broken limbs. Clint tapped one with the tip of his boot and the man didn’t move. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but even Clint had to admit that it was quite the carnage without any (supposedly) being dead.

Clint turned to go to the basement when something loud and booming and ear-piercingly shrieking split the air. Clint fell to his knees, slapping his hands over his ears and managing to block out most of the sound. It only lasted for a second, but when Clint pulled his hands away from his head he swore it was still ringing through the air. And then his heart sank as he thought about Peter. The kid had better hearing than him, how bad would that’ve been? What the Hell had even caused that sound?

“Spiderman?” Clint called out as loud as he dared. There was no response. Clint swore, making his way to the basement. That was where the girls were being held. 

The same kind of destruction from the first floor was spread out before him. Had Spiderman run into Daredevil? Clint had never encountered the vigilante before but he knew the guy was fiercely protective of ‘his city’. Hopefully he didn’t turn that on Peter. 

Clint found himself in a room strewn with bodies. A table was lying on its side, cards scattered across the floor, chairs overturned. The men were beaten to a pulp, but Clint didn’t need to see them to know that Daredevil had done that. Because Daredevil was standing in the corner of the room, chest heaving, arms by his side, hands balled into bloody fists. He was wearing that black costume that reports said he’d been seen in recently. His head was angled mostly downward, but it was somewhat turned in his direction. In the cheap, flickering lights of the abandoned building, Clint could see where the guy’s name came from. 

“Hey man, you good?” Clint asked. When he got no response, he added, “I’m Hawkeye, I’m on your side.” He took a step forward, farther into the room. Daredevil flinched, fists coming up in front of him. Clint put his hands up placatingly. It made sense that the guy would be jumpy. “I’m here with Spiderman, we’re just trying to get the girls safe.”

He took another step forward, over some bodies, and that proved to be a mistake.

Daredevil darted forward like a viper and Clint just managed to dodge around a punch. He didn’t manage to avoid a kick to his chest and he grunted, putting some distance between him and the vigilante, backing into the very same corner the man had been in before. His foot knocked against something. A pair of black boots. Clint looked back up to confirm and, yeah, for some reason Daredevil had taken both his boots and socks off, bare feet on the cold concrete floor. He has backed up into the corner opposite of Clint, one foot stomping on the ground, teeth bared. 

“I swear, I don’t want to fight.” Clint said, louder this time. The words had no impact on Daredevil, and Clint looked at the doorway. He had to get out of here. Clearly Daredevil was in the mood for a fight, but Clint had a kid to look after tonight, he didn’t have time for this.

He made a break for the door and Daredevil cut him off, a fist swinging to him again and Clint grabbed the hand, using Daredevil’s momentum against the vigilante, sending Daredevil  falling awkwardly to the ground, sprawled against the unconscious limbs of the others. He recovered quickly and lunged to Clint again. Clint grabbed his wrist, and Daredevil in turn grabbed Clint’s arm and swung him around into a wall, knocking the air out of him. Daredevil’s bared teeth gave the barest hint of smirk. Clint got his arm free and moved to punch but Daredevil dodged and then delivered two punches of his own to Clint’s face. The archer tried to back up farther but he hit the wall. Dammit, he wasn’t made for close range. 

Peter chose that moment to enter the room. Or rather, burst into the room.

“C- Hawkeye!” He shouted and then noticed the other standing man in the room. Daredevil had stopped his attack and had backed away to be equal distance from Peter and Clint, fists raised once more, borderline snarling at them. “Daredevil?”

“Wait-!” Was all that Clint managed to get out before Peter took a step towards the other vigilante and, like with Clint, Daredevil surged forward and clocked Peter across the face. Peter grabbed Daredevil’s arms and held them down to the man’s sides. The man let out an absolutely feral sounding scream that made Clint wince as he struggled in the grip of the teen’s super strength. 

“Daredevil!” Peter repeated. “It’s me, Spiderman.” Peter lifted one of the man’s hands, the man still struggled, feet kicking out, bucking like a wild animal. He bent forward, and Clint moved towards them because Daredevil was about to bite Peter’s hand what the hell, which Clint wasn’t just going to stand by and watch happen. But before that could happen, Peter had set Daredevil’s hand to his chest and Daredevil stopped, almost frozen. His head cocked to the side, tension bleeding out of his form, hand splayed out on Peter’s chest. The hand moved upwards to the side of Peter’s neck, and then…

“Spiderman?” He said. Daredevil’s voice was low, deep, gravelly, and sounded very fake. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Peter said. Daredevil frowned, head twitching about like he was tracking a fly through the air. 

“Hey, what the hell man?” Clint stepped forward and Daredevil practically threw himself in front of Peter, teeth bared again. Peter patted Daredevil’s shoulder comfortingly, though, and Daredevil fell out of the defensive form, head turned towards Peter. 

“... I can’t hear almost anything.” Daredevil said in an attempt to be quiet but was somewhat missed. “Sorry.” 

“Did you get the girls out?” Clint asked Peter, not daring to step any closer to the edgy vigilante. He knew how much losing sound could suck, especially when you weren’t expecting it. He must’ve been too close to whatever had made that sound earlier. 

“Yeah, I was out of the building when there was that noise. You heard it too, right?” Peter checked and Clint nodded. “I’ll help Daredevil get out of here.” Peter volunteered, and Clint opened his mouth to protest when something clicked. Daredevil had a hand on Peter’s arm, and while there were still lines of tension in the man’s form, he’d basically did a 180 when he’d realized Spiderman was there.

“You know Daredevil?” Clint voiced his realization. Peter ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Uh, yeah. We’ve, uh, run into each other a few times.” Peter admitted. “Can we talk about this after I get Daredevil somewhere else?” He gestured to the other vigilante, whose head was still twitching about, mouth twisted not quite into a snarl, but still an unhappy grimace. “I, uh, feel weird, talking about him right in front of him.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Clint nodded. He hated people talking when he didn’t have any aids in, especially when they were making no effort to help him out, and while Clint could totally sign what he was saying, something about him doubted that Daredevil would know what the hand movements meant. Maybe a bit pessimistic of Clint, but he was also entirely aware of how few people knew ASL, especially when they themselves didn’t need it. 

“Alright, come on Red.” Spiderman picked his way over the bodies and Daredevil followed him, hand in the crook of Spiderman’s arm. Daredevil’s head was no longer twitching like he was having a seizure, but was angled towards Clint. 

“Can you grab my boots?” He asked in that same ‘I have no clue how loud I am’ kind of voice. Clint knew it well. Daredevil didn’t react badly this time to Clint moving around the room, though he head moved as he tracked his progress. 

“Here you go.” Clint said, even if the words fell on literally-deaf ears. It took Daredevil a really awkward moment to grab the boots from Clint as he held them out to him. Clint frowned. “Hey, Spiderman, can you make sure he gets checked out? I’m thinking he may’ve taken a blow to the head along with the hearing loss.”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.”

Clint waited for the two of them to get a decent ways out before following behind them upon realizing that he had no reason to be in this building anymore either. Outside, there were maybe twenty girls huddled close together, all looking near tears. One of them was openly sobbing, probably only standing thanks to the two others she was holding onto. Clint’s heart clenched. Part of him wished he was more desensitized to all of this, the other half was relieved that he wasn’t. 

“Are you all okay?” Clint asked. There were some nods and one even said ‘Thanks to Spiderman’, and Clint couldn’t help but to smile proudly. Yup, that was their kid right there, saving lives. He pulled out a phone and called the police. The girls had wandered closer to him when he put the phone back down, their curiosity overriding a bit of their fear. He waved at them.

“You’re Hawkeye, right? One of the Avengers?” One of the girls said. She seemed like, by some unsaid agreement (or maybe said agreement, Clint wouldn’t know), the leader of the group, taking a step towards him. One of the others were holding on the edge of her shirt, as if ready to pull her back into the clump at a moment’s notice. 

“That’s me.” He confirmed. He pointed at his phone. “Just called the cops. They should be here soon.” 

“You were here to save us, right? Working with Spiderman and Daredevil?” Clint could correct her on that, but it seemed to stupid to point out that Daredevil had come here on his own, so instead he just nodded. “Th-thank you. Thank you so-,” She swallowed, like she was trying to keep from breaking down, “We all thought that-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay now.” Clint resisted the urge to reassuringly pat her shoulder or something, knowing that they were all - rightfully - skittish right now. There was some movement in the corner of his eye and he saw Peter standing an alleyway, waving him over. “I’ll get going. Stay safe.” 

Clint headed to the alley, hearing the approaching sirens as he entered the shadows. Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but Clint nodded to the roof first. Peter scaled the wall while Clint took the fire escape and then walked to the edge of the roof, where they had been earlier that night, and pulled his bow off his back. He was a few arrows less than he had started the night with, and he really wanted to raid the warehouse for them, but it could wait for a moment. 

“What? What is it?” Peter whispered.

“Oh, it’s probably nothing. But it’s like when you drop a girl off after a date - you wait and make sure she makes it into her apartment.” Clint said, dropping some sweet dating advice. The police and a couple ambulances arrived and the girls were piled in to the various vehicles as the police went through the building. Clint sighed, relieved that there was no terrible spin on the situation, and put his bow away. He turned to Peter and raised an eyebrow. “Red?”

“That’s… uh…” 

Clint reached over and ruffled the top of Peter’s mask. 

“Hey, if you don’t want to talk about how you got to know the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, that’s fine. But at least tell me he was okay.” Peter pulled his mask off, finally, and looked at Clint with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

“You really don’t care how I know Daredevil?” Peter searched Clint’s face, and Clint shrugged.

“Hey, it’s your life. But seriously, is the dude okay? He took his shoes off, and I don’t know what that means but I feel like it means his bell got a bit rung. And he took a moment to recognize you. You’re costume’s not exactly subtle.” Clint pointed out. 

“Yeah, Red- uh, Daredevil should be okay. His hearing was already starting to get better when I got him to a safe house. And… there was a flash! Yeah, he said there was a flash with the bomb, and he was having a hard time seeing too!” Peter said, sounding extremely earnest. Clint raised his eyebrows but didn’t bring attention to it. If anything, he was relieved that Peter had other connections outside of the Avengers. If Clint was being honest here, he was worried that the Avengers would have another falling out, and if/when that happened he was glad to know that Peter would have some people to fall back on and hopefully not get involved in the actually blows being dealt that time. 

“Good. That’s good.”

Chapter Text

Sam stared at the dog.

The dog stared back.

Peter smiled as innocently as a teenager who had just brought a dog to shooting lessons can look. Which is to say not innocent at all, just challenging Sam to make him bring the dog all the way back to wherever the dog had come from. Sam put his hands on his hips, continuing to stare the dog down. The dog stared back, pressed up against Peter’s leg. It had a mean-looking spiked collar, and Peter was holding a rolled up leash, but it wasn’t connected to the pitbull and thus the dog was free.

“Are you going to make me ask?” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“His name’s Max.” Peter scratched the dog’s head. Max’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, head pushing into Peter’s fingers. Sam sighed and fell back on his haunches, extending a hand to the dog. The dog’s ears pulled back and it backed away, not quite growling yet but lips lifted to show off his canines. Sam’s hand retreated and Max went back to looking completely fine and staring at Sam. 

“Is there a reason you brought Max?” Sam asked, looking up at Peter, who still didn’t show the slightest hint of regret for not even texting Sam and saying ‘hey just so you know I’m bringing a dog over’. 

“He gets lonely.” Peter explained, “And I didn’t want him chewing up Aunt May’s couch.” 

“Is he yours?”

“No, I’m watching him for a friend. He had to leave town for a bit.” Peter bent down a to scratch the dog’s side and holy cow, the dog was actually doing that thing where one of their legs start to kick when they’re being scratched. Max looked like he was in heaven. Sam sighed again and straightened up.

“Peter, you know we’re just doing shooting practice today, right?” Peter nodded. “What do you think Max will be doing during this?” 

“Napping? He’s a good dog.” 

“I don’t doubt he’s a good dog.” Sam said, and then decided, whatever. They’d deal with the problem as it developed (also the problem that the dog didn’t like him, but that one was on the backburner for now). Maybe he could convince Wanda to take the dog for a walk… “Let’s just get to the shooting range.”

The dog stayed right by Peter’s side, practically glued to his leg. During the elevator ride, Sam made two more attempts to pet Max and was met with much the same response. On the second attempt, Max actually barked and Peter scratched the dog’s head, making shooshing noises and finally giving Sam an apologetic look. 

Sam had already prepared the shooting range ahead of time, setting up a table with the guns he wanted to work on. He eyed the bigger caliber guns with a bit of distaste, having only brought them out at the insistence of the other three. Tony had actually been on his side about seeing no reason to train Peter on them. Guns weren’t the kid’s style to begin with, much less something that packed that much of a punch. Tony and Steve had then gotten into a fight over it, which, like all of their fights, had managed to magically and inevitably come all the way back ‘round to Bucky. Voices were raised and blows almost exchanged and they had both had to be physically restrained and forced to take - separate - walks to calm down. 

Both of them had yet to come back. 

Sam had added the guns to the pile, not because he was choosing a side, but because it was technically three against two and while hated to think of it, the future was unpredictable and getting more dangerous by the day, and maybe there would be a time this would save Peter's life.

“We’re starting with the handguns, okay?” Sam instructed, picking one up and handing one of the same model to Peter. Peter took it slowly, looking down at the gun in his hand with an odd mix of emotions. Max tried to sniff the gun, and when Peter held it out of reach Max made a whining sound and then eventually gave up trying to get to the gun and went over to the table, sniffing it and then with another whine curling up underneath it. Huh. Guess the dog would really just take a nap. Sam made sure that Peter put on some earmuffs and safety glasses. Peter had complained for days after his mission with Clint that his ears were ringing from the bomb or whatever, and Sam didn’t want to be added to the list of people who had let the boy get hurt - to any degree - on his watch.

Like anything in Avengers tower, the shooting range couldn’t just be a ‘shoot a gun at a target’ kind of thing. Well, it could be, Sam was starting off on those settings today, but there were so many bells and whistles to it. Ordinary shooting in a straight line was perfectly good for now. Sam went over how to clean the gun, cleaning his own while Peter followed along. When the gun was put back together and Sam double-checked that everything was correct, he set Peter up shooting a target. Peter hadn’t shown much improvement from the last time Sam and seen his shooting a gun, but the boy had great aim. Sam corrected his stance, making him shoot standing, kneeling, and lying down, going over the pros and cons to each position. Peter was a good student, soaking up the information like a sponge. The gunshots cracked through the air, and even with the earmuffs on Sam could see Peter wince during the first few shots. He’d have to talk to Tony about making specialized ones for Peter. 

Max and sat up after the first gun shot, made a soft ‘boof’, and had even padded over to Peter but apparently didn’t see anything interesting to him and layed back down under the table, at some point pulling one of the guns off the table and positioning his head near it. Weird dog, and he shouldn’t have looked so cute after stealing a gun - what dog steals a gun?? - but Peter assured Sam that Max was okay. The dog didn’t react to the gunshots past the initial interest.

“Tony should make him dog earmuffs if you keep bringing him.” Sam said, squatting down so that he could stare at the dog. Peter laughed and kept shooting, going through the different positions. When it looked like he had the hang of them, Sam decided it was time to switch things up. “Are you ready for some moving targets?”

“Yeah!” Peter said enthusiastically. Sam huffed in amusement and went over to the control panel. 

“Well, we’ve got a pigeon setting, deer, wolves, Tony even put in a Chitari simulation…” Sam tapped away at the panel, brief projections of the other settings appearing in place of the target Peter had been shooting at. He hesitated, and then hit another one. Men in vague army-style uniforms were scattered throughout the range, made to look like they were holding guns. “... people.” 

Peter took a step back, staring at the ‘people’. Every inch of skin was covered on them. A lot easier to fight an enemy if you didn’t think of them as human, Sam thought bitterly. Sam came up behind Peter and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I…” Peter said, taking another step back, handgun lowered. 

“We're not using this setting today, or probably ever as long as you're learning under me,” Sam reassured him, “But… it’s there for a reason, Peter. Those guns,” He waved a hand to the big ones, the ones that he’d noticed Peter holding with almost more ease, more familiarity than the others, “Are made for the express purpose of shooting people. We’re training you with how to use them and praying, God knows I’m praying, you’ll never need to point one at an actual person.” Peter nodded without making a sound, staring at holographic people moving closer.

Which made the snarling bark so much more surprising.

Max zipped out from under the table, hitting one of the legs on his way out, knocking the table down and sending the guns to the floor. The dog barreled on past Peter, almost knocking the boy over too, and Peter let out a surprised “Max!” and made a failed attempt to grab onto the dog’s collar. The dog barked and jumped and bit down on where one of the holographic soldier’s legs would’ve been. 

The hologram reacted as it was programmed to, falling down like it had actually taken a blow to the knee, but the dog was confused at not having a mouth full of human leg. He turned his attention to another soldier, jumping and going for the neck and meeting what to the dog must’ve been the same confusing result. 

“Max! C’mon boy!” Peter called, his internal war of starting to realize what training to shoot with accuracy meant thrown unceremoniously to the sidelines as Peter shoved his gun into Sam’s hands (still pointed to the ground, good gun etiquette, bonus points) and ran into the shooting range after the dog as Max attempted to bite the arm of a fake soldier.

Sam watched Peter chasing the dog around, Max continually trying to attack the holograms with Peter trying to pin him down. He looked over at the table of weapons, looked down at the one in his hand, and took the clip out, removing the bullets and putting them away. What was the rush? 

“Hey, Peter, you want to get some ice-cream?”

Chapter Text

Tony wasn’t a man who meditated.

How could he, with a mind going a million miles an hour, blueprints and schematics printed onto the backs of his eyelids and staring back every time he blinked. He fell asleep while turning over his latest invention in his head, seeing through the layers of machinery, piecing together how it would work, what parts would fit with which, what was the best way to power it. Silent moments of contemplation were hard to come by with him, when there was always so much going on up there. It’d saved him before, his quick and constant thinking. He never wished he could turn it off or anything, but sometimes he wondered if it was part of what made it so hard for him to have relationships. 

The actual work of building, of welding metal and running wires through a project, was one of the few things that could get his brain to be quiet, like it was holding a breath because no matter how brilliant he was, how many things he had created before, there was always an almost overwhelming feeling of elation that came with the newest creation coming to life, with it actually working, with having solved the puzzle that had been plaguing his waking hours. So maybe in a way Tony Stark did meditate. He meditated to the hum of electricity, to the crackling of an arc welder, to the feel of sparks on the skin of his arms that he hadn’t bothered to cover and burning metal that he’ been working on and cool metal that was a blank slate, yet to be worked with, yet to be made into the masterpiece he had in mind.

It was a good state of mind to be in - focused, calm, at ease and yet hyper-aware of what he was doing, what was going on around him, what parts may blow up - after a fight with Steve. 

The hostility from the argument about guns-turned-to-Bucky had been lingering around the Tower for days now. It was buzzing around Tony’s head, filling the small spaces between the blueprints and the lines of code to add to the newest Starkphone. He, as well as the other Avengers he was sure, were waiting for the anger that boiled his veins at the thought of that monster man to simmer down. He was also waiting for Steve’s dog-like loyalty and defensiveness to edge back from frothing-at-the-mouth wolf to happy golden retriever. Would they always be like this? Living from one spat to the next? Tony hoped not, but he couldn’t stop the part of him that was still a young man that screamed and pointed at the Winter Soldier and shrieked murderer. And he couldn’t deny that that part of him wasn’t wrong.

The meditative state maybe wasn’t so good to be in when somebody was trying to contact him.

Somebody in the same room as him had trouble talking to him. A phone ringing may as well be a world away. And yet, somehow through the din of focused quiet in Tony’s head, something managed to register that ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’ was mixed into the wall of sound coming from Tony’s speakers blasting ‘Highway To Hell’. His hand stilled, and it was like he was finally seeing the wires he had been carefully working with. He blinked as the hyper-focused state he’d been in ebbed away and coherent thought returned to him. He knew exactly where in his project he was at, and it wasn’t time sensitive. ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’ was still playing in dissonance with AC/DC and it took Tony way too long to realize what that meant. 

He rolled out from underneath the machine he was working on - a soon-to-be car of sorts that would be stealthy enough for missions - and sat up. He was aware he smelled strongly of metal and smoke, but like usual when he was in the middle of projects he couldn’t bring himself to really care. His hand reached up to a side table and patted around until he found his phone, a picture of Peter intently pouring some chemicals shown as it vibrated in his hand. He turned his music off and answered the call.

“Need something? You’re lesson’s not for another hour, and aren’t you training with Natasha today?” Tony asked, taking the chance to stretch out if he was taking a break from working. He should have some strawberries stashed right… there! Aha, thank you, Morning Tony!

There was a small pained sound on the other side of the phone and now Tony snapped to attention. 

“M-Mr. Stark…” His name was said in the softest of whispers, so soft Tony almost didn’t hear it.

“Peter, what is it, where are you, what’s wrong?” He demanded, heart racing as the fast-turning wheels in his mind created a myriad of terrible predicaments the kid could have gotten himself into. He heard the smallest of sobs and his heart clenched.

“C… can… t-tell N-Natasha… can’t… n-no lessons…” 

“Stay where you are, I’m coming Peter!” Tony grabbed a jacket off of a counter, throwing it on over the dirty wife beater he was wearing. 

“No, ‘s okay.” Peter said and then the call ended. Tony swore and dialed right back. Peter didn’t pick up. He swore again, racing to the elevator. 

“FRIDAY, trace the call!” He ordered. 

“Already done, sir.” She reported and projected a set of coordinates. He considered getting into the Ironman suit and rushing over, fire under his skin from the fight with Steve finally having something to lash out at. He managed to reign it in, a rational thought breaking through. What if being loud, being the very noticeable Ironman, got Peter into more trouble, into a worse situation? Could Tony live with himself, knowing he’d caused that? 

So instead Tony got into a car and sped down the road as fast as somebody in the middle of a city like New York can go. His blood roared in his ears. If somebody had done something to Peter… Tony had brought this kid to a fight against seasoned fighters, may have to again, and yet here he was with hands curled into fists and ready to start throwing punches. And of course where Peter had called from had to be an alley with no place to park nearby.

“FRIDAY, park the car.” Tony growled and got out, slamming the door behind him, anger and fear beating on his chest, a thump-thumping that filled his ears.

The alley was dark, because of course it was, but there was still enough light to see by. He could see Peter up against one of the walls, on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest. There was somebody kneeling in front of him, and Tony took a step forward, a shouted ‘Peter’ starting to crawl up his throat. Before he could shout it, he recognized the man in front of Peter. Murdock was right in front of the kid, Peter having what looked like a tight hold on his wrists. Peter’s head was bowed down, and even from the alley entrance, Tony could see Peter's chest moving as he took deep breaths. 

“What’s going on here?” Tony demanded, more growl than question, not entirely sure what to make of what he saw. Peter cried out, a broken and painful sound, and he let go of Matt to cover his ears, curling farther into himself, a tight tight tight ball. Murdock turned his head in Tony’s direction, and he wasn’t wearing the darkly-tinted sunglasses Tony had seen him in before, sightless eyes staring at something to Tony’s right. Murdock lifted a finger to his lips, the universal sigh for ‘shut the hell up’ and then took off what looked like a watch. He turned back to Peter, mouth moving, but Tony couldn’t hear what was said. Peter didn’t react beyond trembling fingers grabbing the watch from Murdock. 

The blind man got up, a hand trailing on the wall while the other searched the air in front of him, heading towards Tony. Tony grabbed the man’s hand when it was within reach and Murdock pulled them out of the alley, leaning against the wall and - and he looked tired. The bruise Tony had seen on him last time was mostly faded, but he had a black eye. Tony had been wondering for a while now about a blind man supposedly teaching Peter self-defense alongside the Spanish (though he knew voicing that was sure to get him beat up by Clint) but now he wondered if there was a reason Murdock basically lived in a gym. 

“What are you doing here?” Murdock whispered. 

“Peter called me.” Tony explained, and never let it be said that he can’t take a hint as he kept his voice the same volume as Murdock’s. “What the hell is going on? What’s wrong with Peter? Why are you here?” An infuriating vague twitching at the side of Murdock’s mouth, like he was resisting smirking, did nothing to quell Tony’s upset nerves. 

“Peter called me . Said he needed some help, couldn’t go to his internship today, couldn’t go anywhere. Sensory overload.” The two words were said like they were an explanation in and of themselves, and maybe they were supposed to be, but Tony grit his teeth. He knew he’d heard about that somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember what it was, what it meant, what was going on with Peter.

“Is he okay? What’s going on?” Tony repeated. Murdock’s head shifted, angled slightly towards the alley, and it took him a second to respond. 

“He’ll be okay. Eventually. He’s… overstimulated, there’s too much going on around him. Kind of like… a migraine, in a way? The sounds and smells, and sights, and everything, everything is just too much and he can’t take it. He just needs some time to get everything back under control.” Murdock explained. His head moved like he was turning something over and then added, “He called me because he knows that I know what it’s like, how to deal with it.” 

And Tony wanted to be angry, to be upset. That was his kid in that alley, curled up, looking and sounding close to tears, in so much pain. But the anger was simmering down as he recognized the truth and honesty in what the lawyer was saying. Tony knew nothing about this sensory overload, he couldn’t help Peter. This man, loathe as Tony was to admit it, could. Did it have anything to do with Peter’s powers? Tony remembered Peter mentioned, the first time they meant, about how he’d chosen such dark and thick goggles because they helped to block out things. How long had this been a problem for the kid? 

One thing was for sure, Tony had some adjustments to Peter’s suit he needed to make.

“I’m talking to him.” Tony said, making sure his voice made it clear that it wasn’t up for debate. Murdock looked like he wanted to debate it anyway, opening his mouth, but instead he just turned his head a bit more towards the entrance of the alley and frowned slightly before sighing. 

“Be quiet. ” Murdock stressed. Tony nodded, face set and determined. 

Murdock reclaimed his spot kneeling down in front of Peter and the second he did, Peter dropped the watch and grabbed Matt’s wrists again, squeezing them in a white-knuckled grip that couldn't've been comfortable. Matt didn’t so much as flinch. Now that he was closer to his kid, Tony could see that Murdock’s glasses had been put on Peter’s face, the dark lenses hiding Peter’s eyes

“Hey Peter, you scared me there.” Tony whispered, little more than a breath of air. Peter looked over at Tony, face screwed up in pain and god, Tony wished there was something to hit, some physical thing that he could fight against. There wasn’t. It seemed like most of the worst things in life were untouchable, impossible to fight. 

“Sorry.” The groan could barely be called words, but Tony would take it. “C… tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll reschedule for tomorrow. Five o’Clock sharp, don’t forget.” The thinnest of smiles graced Peter’s features. 

He stood and left, doing his best to imitate Nat and Clint’s silent footsteps and only somewhat succeeding. Peter clearly wasn’t in a state to hold a conversation, but as soon as he was they were talking about this. Tony wanted - no, needed to know what to do, what could help. Ideas of additions that could be added to Peter’s suit, circled through Tony’s head. He hadn't been able to help Peter this time, but he'd make sure he'd able to when - and he had a good feeling it was a when, not an if - this happened again.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Tony regretted setting Peter up with the other Avengers - the kid was learning a lot of important things, and now he was an official unofficial part of the team - but it certainly felt like he never got to see the kid these days. Even Peter's internship was more interning at Avengers Tower than interning under Tony Stark himself. But dammit, Tony was going to get some quality time out of this situation if it killed him!

Okay, maybe quality time wasn’t the right word for it, but it was time spent with Peter and Tony was counting it!

Essentially, there was a nice and fancy party going on, where billionaires got to talk to other billionaires and Tony got to act like he didn’t want to wring their necks and wasn’t bored out of his mind with every word that came out of their mouths. Luckily, this fancy party was also about having promising interns attend. The reasoning was for them ‘to make connections’ or some shit but really it was to show off. But hey, that meant Tony could take Peter with him without it seeming suspicious.

“How come I have to wear a tie?” Peter groaned, loosening his just a bit.

“You’ve got to make a good impression.” Tony insisted. 

“You’re not wearing one.” Peter pointed out.

“I’m already rich, I’m the one people are making a good impression to . You’ll get there someday,  but for now the tie stays on.” Tony said and Peter groaned again. Tony ruffled Peter’s hair and Peter swatted his hand away, frantically patting at his hair. 

“Hey!” He whined.

“Alright, now you look good. Let’s go.” 

The room was full of wealthy men and women, most accompanied by not-so-wealthy teenagers/young adults.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark.” Richard Reeds, the one hosting the event, came up to Tony, giving him a winning grin that Tony mirrored right back. Tony shook his hand. “We’re so glad you could make it.” 

“It’s a pleasure to be here.” Tony replied. “I even brought along my own promising intern.” 

“Guess there’s a first time for everything.” Reeds joked, looking mildly amused as he looked at Peter. Peter took a step closer to Tony and Tony couldn’t help a huff of laughter at that. “Never thought I’d see the day that Tony Stark had an intern he had enough interest in to bring along.”

“Peter’s going to be something someday, just you watch. I just think it’s fair to give everybody in here a fair warning.” Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Reeds raised his eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t mind if I stole him away for a moment, would you? I’d love to pick the brain of the man who’s finally caught the attention of Stark.” Peter tried to take another step even closer to Tony, but Tony, admit a fake laugh, kept Peter from standing too transparently close to him. He did squeeze his shoulder comfortingly.

“Maybe for just a moment while I grab a drink from the bar. Peter, you’ll be okay?” Tony looked down at Peter, trying to convey that it really would just be for a moment. He was excited to spend the night with Peter and mock the other billionaires behind their backs, but maybe the ‘make connections’ thing wasn’t a totally bad idea, and Richard Reeds wasn’t the worst person in the room to get to know. Peter seemed to consider it for a second and nodded, still looking incredibly nervous. “I’ll be right back.” Tony promised, patting Peter’s shoulder and leaving the kid with Reeds.

Tony got a glass of wine, nothing particularly special and more just for the appearance that holding one gave. He took a sip, looking around the room at the sharks in heels and Italian suits, picking out who may be worthwhile to introduce Peter to. Had Peter met T’Challa yet? Not that the Wakandan was here, but the man would be useful for Peter to know.

There was another man here who didn’t have a tie on, much to Tony’s surprise, and it took Tony a minute to place him. Danny Rand, the man who’d been presumed dead for years before turning up alive and kicking, supposedly having been raised by monks for the past fifteen years. Crazier things had happened - just look at Captain America - but it still had been a news story that was told over and over for a few weeks. Tony hadn’t seen the man since the billionaire had been a kid, forced to sit through some gala and looking absolutely miserable. He’d taken his tie off then, too, and almost thrown a fit when Wendell Rand, his dad, had made him put it back on. It had been the only interesting thing that had happened that whole night.

Tony watched as Danny leaned against a wall, feet fidgeting and looking like he was about to slip off a shoe before stopping and straightening as he was approached by someone Tony recognized with much more ease as being Ward Meachum, who along with his sister had been in charge of Rand Enterprises while Danny had been 'dead'. Ward was holding two wine glasses and looked disappointed. Danny looked annoyed but took his tie out of his pocket and held the glasses while Ward retied the tie around Danny’s neck. Tony looked over at Peter, who looked like he was actually having some kind of conversation with Reeds, and decided it couldn’t hurt to talk to the two.

“Ward Meachum, haven’t seen you in a while.” Tony approached the two just as Rand finished adjusting his tie, leaving it on the looser side. 

“Tony Stark,” Ward replied, stepping in front of Danny, “I’m surprised you came to one of these.”

“You say that like you aren’t happy to see me, Ward.” Tony grinned, giving his wine a swirl. 

“I’m Danny Rand,” Danny stepped out from behind Ward, hand extended, “And I’m-” Ward rather pointedly coughed and Danny sounded like he choked on his words for a moment, “Excited to meet you.”

“So, raised by monks, how was that?” Tony asked. Ward actually rolled his eyes while Danny’s lit up.

“Harsh, but it was my childhood. For every bad memory, there’s ten good one.” Danny said.

“Wow, so that was real?” Tony couldn’t help but to be surprised. He’d heard about it, but still, to have it actually confirmed was something else. 

“Yes.” Danny gave a firm nod. 

“So, is there a reason Mr. Stark decided to come to a little intern meet-and-greet?” Ward elbowed Danny a bit behind him again. Tony tried to remember what the history was between these two but was drawing a blank. He’d have to look into it later. 

“You don’t think I have a legitimate reason to watch as people with far too much money flaunt the kid they manage to pick fresh out of Harvard to serve coffee to other people with too much money?” Tony mocked. Rand Enterprises for years had shown no interest in having almost any kind of business relationship with Stark Industries that went beyond not actively tearing each other apart. Things had been less hostile - almost genile - recently, but Tony still saw no reason to act like he cared what Rand or Meachum thought about his opinion of the event. To his surprise, Danny smiled in agreement and even ward - infamous stick in the mud - looked like he was actually amused by that. 

“I’ve been trying to go to more of these things.” Danny said. “Ward thinks it’s a good idea for me to meet more people.”

“So you’re here for the same reason all the interns are?” Tony couldn’t hide the grin that brought him. Danny shrugged. “I’m actually here for a purpose tonight. I’ve brought along my own intern.” Ward looked suitably surprised at that.

“Really? You look pretty alone.”

“Danny!” 

Peter ran past Tony, squeezed by Danny, and wrapped his arms around Danny Rand. Danny was grinning and hugging Peter back, and Tony could only stare for a moment. 

“Peter! What are you doing here?” Danny asked as he released Peter from what looked like a tight hug. 

“Mr. Stark brought me.” Peter explained, stepping back and standing next to Tony - next to him, not trying to hide in his shadow. 

“Oh yeah, you have that internship going on.” Danny said with a smile, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“You mean Peter actually does something that puts his smarts to use?” Ward was actually outright smiling now, and Tony finally found his footing in the conversation. 

“How do you know Ward and Danny?” Tony asked. “Are you cheating on me with other billionaires?”

“Uh, no, no, sorry I-”

“Peter, it’s fine, I don’t expect you to tell me about every small thing about your life. But how do you know Danny?” Tony said with a bit of a sigh. Was he a bit sad that Peter hadn’t thought that knowing Danny Rand was something that Tony would want to know? Yeah. But it was fine, it really was.

“We met at Matt’s.” 

Matt. 

Tony’s fist clenched before he could stop it. He quickly smoothed it back out, but he saw Ward, eyebrows raised, looking at his hand.

“Matt Murdock?” Tony kept his voice nice and controlled. 

“I was there for some legal counselling shortly after I returned to New York.” Danny explained, still grinning. “Peter was having lessons at the time, and I thought I could help.”

“Spanish lessons,” Peter further elaborated, “Danny wanted to try and teach me some Mandarin when he saw Matt teaching me my Spanish lessons, but it was just too much to learn at once so now we just meet up once a week and play video games.”

“You’re playing video games… with Danny Rand?” Tony conveyed his absolute disbelief at that. Peter and Danny shrugged almost in sync. 

“At the monastery, we didn’t have video games. Or really electronics of any kind. Peter has taken it upon himself to ‘educate’ me. He’s made me promise not to play any of the plot based games without him.” Danny said.

“Sometimes we can even convince Ward to play with us.” Peter looked very proud about that fact. “He’s crazy good at Mariokart. It’s unreal.” 

“It’s not a hard game.” Ward said, looking like he was doing his best not to be smug over the praise.

“Think I can tag along one of these times?” Tony asked. Both Peter and Danny looked thrilled with the idea. It was Ward who was scrutinizing Tony. 

“Danny, Peter, who don’t you two see if there’s any palatable foods being passed around? One of the few things that makes coming to these parties worth it.” Ward requested, not looking away from Tony. Both Peter and Danny seemed to realize something was, exchanging a look, but left anyway.

Tony held Ward’s gaze, taking a sip from his glass.

“I thought Hogarth had dibs to all of your legal issues?” Tony pointed out.

“Murdock and Nelson was recommended straight from Jeri. What does Tony Stark care, though?” The smile Ward had had was gone, back to the businessman that Tony knew him to be. 

“What do you know about Murdock?” Tony asked, taking a step forward.

“He’s a small-time lawyer from Hell’s Kitchen that gets paid in chickens half the time. Danny has a sixth sense for those kinds of guys.” Ward said rather blandly. “Same with your kid there.”

“Peter is-”

“I wasn’t ragging on the kid.” Ward cut him off. “‘Diamonds in the rough’, or whatever you’d call them. Murdock, Peter, they have a lot in common. I don’t know what it is you think is going on with them, but trust me when I say that Peter doesn’t need something like this.” Ward gestured vaguely at the party around them. “It’s a nice pleasantry, but Peter has been making connections rather well on his own.” 

“He’s my kid. I… know what making the wrong kind of connections can do. Especially when those connections are formed early on.” Tony admitted. Ward regarded him for a long moment, and then sighed, looking suddenly so exhausted.

“Yeah, I know that too. But they’re good people. Better than most of the people you meet at one of these,” He let out a huff of air that was almost a laugh, “Myself included.” Ward swirled his wine, staring at the red as it left lines on the side of the glass. He looked at Tony again, and his eyes were still cold but there was something else there. “Maybe you should come over some time. I’d love to be able to claim I’ve beat Tony Stark at Mariokart.”

Tony looked out at the sea of billionaires and interns dressed up all prim and proper, Danny and Peter jumping from waiter to waiter, sampling the different little things on the plates. 

“I’m up for the challenge.”

Chapter Text

Matthew Murdock was a creature of habit. 

Even then, it was hard to find a time when Murdock wasn’t either at his house or the firm. Or church. Tony may’ve been an atheist, but even he knew better than to interrupt church of all things. He had some tact and respect, despite what some people may think or say. Of course, Tony did also know every part of the man’s schedule, with plentiful recordings of Murdock tapping his way down the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, so maybe sometimes he played into what people though, sue him. Wait no don't do that. 

At any rate, Tony found himself in a coffee shop in Hell’s Kitchen, nursing a dark brew as he waited for eight-thirty to hit. The last few days that he had tried to catch Murdock here, it had been Nelson or Page who had picked up the morning coffee for their little office. Hopefully he’d have more luck this time. He scrolled the news on his phone - Hell’s Kitchen news, because he was on a theme here and he may as well stick to it. There was a story about Daredevil, because of course there was. Well, maybe not quite a ‘story’, but several people from the night before who had apparently been saved by Daredevil in some way or other had given brief accounts of what happened. There was even a nice little graphic of a map, red dots with horns and a tail showing where each person had been. A nice one-stop-shop for any nerds out there trying to figure out where Daredevil has been. Maybe there was something like that for Spider-Man. Tony might have to look into that.

Finally the man he was looking for entered, holding onto the arm of Nelson. They were both smiling as they got in line. Tony stood, straightening his suit jacket, and approached them. 

“- should stop by Josie’s after work? Let her know we’re still alive?” Nelson was saying.

“Only if you can get Karen to come. She’s had too many late nights recently.” Murdock said.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Nelson elbowed Murdock in the stomach and Murdock gave a light laugh. 

“Morning, Murdock.”

Tony came up next to them, hands in his pockets. Murdock straightened in surprise, head tilting as he turned in Tony’s general direction. Nelson at first looked over at him curiously and then did a double take that left him gaping as he clearly recognized who Tony was. Tony couldn’t help but to smirk at the dropped jaw of the lawyer. Nelson looked over at Murdock, then back at Tony, and Tony could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out the connection between them.

“Matt-”

“Mr. Stark,” Murdock cut off whatever it was Nelson was about to say, shifting his grip on Nelson’s arm, “I was expecting you to stop by again far sooner. To what do I owe this pleasure?” His tone said that this was not a pleasure, and Nelson’s mouth snapped shut as he stared at Tony now with a guarded wariness.

“You were so insistent about how important your time in the office was, I didn’t want to waste your time with another appointment.” Tony said and Murdock looked impressed by that, nodding. 

“Foggy, could you get our coffees?” Murdock let go of Nelson’s arm and the stuck a hand out in Tony’s direction. Tony reached forward to shake it, but Nelson took pity on him, gesturing to his arm where Murdock had been holding onto earlier, rolling his eyes slightly and nodding his head to Murdock. 

“Yeah, just don’t be long though. Your first appointment for the day starts at 9:15.” Nelson reminded him and got out his phone, preparing himself for a lonely wait in the morning coffee rush line. Tony nudged Murdock’s hand with his elbow and Murdock grabbed it, a grip that was lighter than Tony had expected, and the billionaire guided them back to the corner table that he had claimed. Murdock sat down, looking as comfortable here as he had in his own office, regarding Tony from across the table, and it hit Tony that maybe the plan to catch the man outside of his element had failed a bit. Still, may as well forge on.

“I’m not going to stop teaching Peter.” Murdock said.

“So, you know Danny Rand, huh?” Tony leaned back, folding his arms and not bothering responding to what he'd said. He could just barely see Murdock’s eyebrows raise above his glasses.

“Danny mentioned he ran into you a few days ago. Didn’t say he talked about me, though.” Murdock admitted, a curious tilt to his head. Or, Tony assumed it was curious. The man tilted his head around so much it was hard to tell one from another. Maybe there was something wrong with his neck? Or it could just be a blind person thing. Tony hadn't met many blind people in his time.

“He said he met Peter through you.” Tony continued.

“I was talking with Danny and Peter burst in to show off the good grade he got on a Spanish test. I guess they hit it off.” Murdock shrugged. 

“Danny seems like a good person, if perhaps not a good businessman. And he made it clear where he was for the fifteen years he was missing.” Murdock’s mouth twitched into a smirk - everything about him always was so twitchy it seemed, always on edge. A coiled spring, potential energy just waiting to be released.

“So we’re back to this. I told you, I just needed to-”

“Drop off the map.” Tony sighed, leaning his head back and letting his shoulders drop. When he lifted his head back up, Murdock had a small frown on his face and the space between his eyebrows was pinched. 

“What do you want, Mr. Stark?”

“I want to understand. I want to know. When you don’t know the people around you, when you’re not watching them, they turn on you. I’ve let people get close and I’ve not been careful, and people have been put in danger because of it. I can risk that myself. I can’t risk that with Peter. You’re not telling me where you were for three goddamn months, and that just screams that something is going on, something that’s going to come back and bite him.” It felt… weird, admitting this to a man he wasn’t particularly fond of. But he was an important person in Peter’s life. Tony had too many regrets hanging over his shoulders, too many grudges he carried. He found himself oddly reluctant to add Murdock to the list, but he couldn’t just put his trust in someone.

Murdock seemed to take a long while considering what to say. The frown remained there. His cane - which was folded up - was in his hands and his fingers dug into the spaces. 

“You are a tricky man to find reliable information on, Mr. Stark.” Murdock started. “You’re shrouded in rumor and unflattering claims. I… worried, when I heard that you were showing an interest in Peter - from his internship. He’s smart, and he thinks the world of you. That kind of devotion… I need to know that you won’t leave Peter when the next interesting project comes along.” 

“Peter’s not just a ‘project'-” Tony defended himself and Murdock held up a hand.

“I know you believe that, but I can’t stop myself from fearing for him. I… I can’t trust other people to be there for him when he needs someone. I can only control my own actions. I can only make sure that I’m there for him, that I’ll stay with him no matter what. Sharing that kind of responsibility, especially with a man I don’t know, that I can’t anticipate the behavior of… it quite frankly terrifies me, Mr. Stark. What you could do to Peter without even realized you were harming him, what your inaction could do…” He trailed off, sightless gaze feeling like it was boring straight through Tony’s skull. “You worry about those three months. They’re not a time in my life I like to look back on. I had… ruined my life. Gutted it with a knife. I left my life because I thought I didn’t need it anymore. I’d just lost the woman I loved and thought that being Matthew Murdcok was a life that wasn’t worth living. I turned away from my friends, leaving myself alone. That’s where I was for three months, Tony. I was in a small hell, some of it my own design.”

Now Tony felt a bit like an ass. But he didn’t regret trying to get Matt to tell him. 

“We don’t trust each other.” Tony took a contemplative sip of his coffee. Afterall, while he knew what state Murdock had been in during those three months, his whereabouts as well as what he’d been doing were still a mystery. “We care about Peter though. We want the best with him.”

“Maybe that will be enough?” Murdock raised a single eyebrow, head tilting to the side. 

“Maybe it will.” Tony nodded, even if Murdock couldn’t see it. Then, as an afterthought more than anything, added, “I just nodded.”

Matt lit up like a christmas tree, a brilliant grin with a hint of humor. 

“I think we may just be able to make this work.”

Matt stood, unfolding his cane as a hand brushed the watch he had. He left the coffee shop. Tony stayed for a little longer, finished his coffee. Matt was an interesting puzzle. He was reminded of what Ward had said about ‘diamonds in the rough’ - a phrase that never failed to make Tony think of ‘Aladdin’, which was coming up on the movie night queue - and wondered what made a man like that.

As he left the nice and small coffee shop (Matt had good taste, it was some of the best coffee Tony had had in a while) and returned to his car, there was somebody waiting for him there. Nelson was standing with four coffees in a cup carrier, looking rather bored until he spotted Tony approaching.

“Franklin Nelson, right?” Tony said. Nelson gave a shrug.

“Foggy.” Foggy corrected, balancing the carrier in one hand and leaving the other free to shake Tony's. Foggy it was then.

“Is there a reason you’re waiting here, or do Matt and Karen just prefer their coffees cold?” 

“Anise likes the cold brews. Always has since she was stealing them out of the fridge as a kid.” Which more or less confirmed that the two were related, not that Tony hadn’t already done the research that had told him all about the wide and branching Nelson family tree. Foggy nodded back in the direction of the coffee shop. "I'm going to take a wild swing and say that was about Peter."

"What makes you say that?" Tony shifted, folding his arms. Foggy shrugged, taking a sip from the cup with 'Foggy' written on it with a little smiley face after it. 

"Matt talks about Peter a lot. And I've noticed all the research he's been doing on Stark industries lately, as well as yourself." He took another sip of coffee. "I was thinking I'd enlighten you to a bit of why Matt's so worried about Peter."

"Does he know you're here?" Tony had literally just barely found some good footing with the man, he wasn't too gungho about ruining that already.

“He probably knows I’m here. And it’s not like I’m spilling he deep and darkest secrets. He owes me to be able to tell the small ones.” And now Tony really wanted to know about those deep and dark secrets. Then again, the odds they were embarrassing stories from college, considering how long the two known each other? Highly likely. Still something Tony really wanted to hear.

“Well?” Tony said when it seemed like Foggy wasn’t going to continue. He was twisted the coffee cup, chewing on his lips as he seemed to try and find the words. Foggy shook himself and took in a deep breath.

“All throughout Matt’s life, people have been leaving him. Just about every adult he trusted or looked up to left him in one way or another. His mom, his dad, his blind teacher instructor dude. He knew that Peter had lost his parents and his uncle, and I think he’s worried that Peter will end up like him.” Foggy didn’t look away from Tony as he spoke. It matched up with what Matt had been saying earlier, but there was one thing in particular that stood out to Tony.

“He’s a lawyer, a good lawyer. Not a bad thing to 'become'.” Tony pointed out. 

“He is.” Foggy agreed. “With trust issues a mile wide.” Okay, fair point

“Not that I’m not thrilled to know an actual fact about Murdock for once, but… why are you telling me this?” And Foggy smiled, a warm and honest thing that Tony wasn’t used to seeing.

“Because I’ve been working on getting those trust issues down to being measured in at least football fields.”

Chapter Text

“How fast do you heal from broken bones, Cap?”

Steve paused mid-bite into his sandwich, looking at Tony who was leaning over the counter with that grin that always spelled trouble. The question was always whether it was more or less trouble than it was worth to find out what was making Tony have that grin. Typically, it was more trouble, but there was only one way to find out.

“Faster than yours.” Steve said. He actually wasn’t entirely sure how efficient his healing factor was. Bruce would know better than him, hell Tony had a better chance of knowing or finding out the exact rate. Steve knew it was pretty good, though. Took quite a bit for him to take damage in the first place, and then he was back up and running in no time. “If you’re going to try out some new weapon on me, the answer is already no. I don’t care what it is.”

“Not a weapon.” Tony promised - which usually meant nothing with a grin like that. “I just keep wondering if you or Peter would win in a serious fight - not just a spar where he’s practicing the moves Nat has been teaching him. Also how fast he’d be able to put you out of commission. And how many bones that would break.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous.” Steve took another bite of his sandwich. “Please tell me you’re not trying to convince me to fight against a teenager - a real, actual fight. Tony, I have battle experience he doesn’t - I’ve been to actual war and back.”

“A teenager that you already fought-”

“I didn’t know he was a kid- and hey, you brought him there!”

“- and can lift an airplane that you dropped on him.” Tony continued on like Steve hadn’t said anything.

“It was a gate, not a plane.” Steve pointed out. 

“C’mon Steve, don’t just sit there and lie to me. Aren’t you a little curious how the Uncle Sam serum fares against weird spiderbite that had god knows what in it?” 

Steve didn’t answer, because he wasn’t going to lie. He was curious, against his better judgement. He’d sparred against Peter, but he was always mindful of his strength. And even during the fight at the airport he’d been more focused on getting Bucky out of there than he was with fighting the hero that Tony had managed to find just for that fight. A fight which Steve had to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about or else all of That was going to come back up and he wasn’t in the mood to fight with Tony today.

“Give me one good reason to fight the kid.” Steve sighed, putting his sandwich down. Tony still had that infuriating grin and Steve had a feeling that he had lost this fight before it had even begun. 

“It’ll be good experience?” The fact that Steve still wasn’t convinced must’ve shown on his face because Tony let out a huff of air, the grin actually dimming a bit and that almost worried Steve more than the grin had. “Because maybe Peter should be capable of fighting us just as well as fighting villians.”

“... he’s already fought me.” Steve looked away from Tony. Tony was quietl for a good moment.

“I’ve already taught him some tricks to taking down some of my suits.”

Steve looked back at Tony, but Tony was staring up at the ceiling, chest expanding with a deep breath that he let out slowly. 

“Why?”

“The future’s a mystery, Cap.” Tony lowered his gaze to meet Steve’s again. “And God, do I know I can make some shit decisions. Good ol’ Ulton was a testament to that.”

“... sure, I’ll do it. When were you thinking we’d do this?”

oOo

The ‘when’ ended up being ‘in about ten minutes, interrupting Peter and Clint’s weapon training’. Steve trailed after Tony as they burst into the room stocked with weapons, Clint holding two short swords that probably had some cool name. Peter was holding a set as well, but the blades were replaced with wood. Clint was standing in some stance and Peter mirrored it. Clint then dropped the stance and went over, shifting around Peter’s arms and such until he nodded with satisfaction, having Peter get out of the pose and then fall back into it. 

“Well that looks fun.” Tony announced their presence with a whistle, hands on his hips as they approached. 

“Here to watch as well?” Natasha emerged from the shadows. Steve didn’t jump only because he was used to her being anywhere and everywhere. It was clear she wasn’t here for the same reason as Tony and Steve - taking over Clint’s lesson - as she was wearing leggings and a hoodie, hands resting in the hoodie pocket. 

“We want Peter and Steve to duke it out.” Goddammit that grin was back. Maybe this was a bad idea. Steve gave the elevator a longing look over his shoulder. 

“ You want us to fight.” Steve corrected.

“ We.” Tony insisted.

“But we fight all the time.” Peter spoke up, no longer in the stance, fake swords hanging in loose fists at his sides. Clint stood behind him, arms folded and still holding his own swords. 

“No, this would a fight, not one of your sparring matches.” Tony insisted. Peter still looked skeptical that there was a difference while Clint nodded understanding.

“And you want to do this during my time with Spidey because…?” Clint asked, looking rather unimpressed. 

“Because Tony’s an impatient ass.” Steve supplied. Clint snorted a laugh. “If you’re in the middle of stuff, it’s okay, it can wait.” 

“You want me to give up my scheduled training session with everyone’s favorite kid just so you two can try to actually beat the snot out of each other?” Clint looked amused rather than upset, and at the words ‘favorite kid’ Peter perked up. Steve shrugged. Tony nodded enthusiastically. Clint gave a huff of laughter, shaking his head a bit. “How did this become my life? Yeah, sure, but I want you to practice those stances in your free time.” Clint said to Peter. Peter nodded seriously.

They waited as Clint and Peter put away the assembled weapons; today was supposed to be a blade-focused day, apparently. Steve wondered if he could convinced Clint to let him join in sometime. Despite everything he’d been through, his formal training - a lot of which was in artillery and some hand-to-hand - was a bit lacking and more whatever the hell he managed to figure out in the middle of war.

“Wait, so… what are we doing? Exactly?” Peter asked. He looked a bit nervous, fiddling with something he must’ve grabbed when putting the knives and swords aways. “We’re not going to actually be fighting to the death… are we?”

“Of course we aren’t.” Steve assured him. “It’s just like… more serious sparring. Now that you’ve got a little bit more skill under your belt, Tony - and I - thought it’d be a good idea to see how far you’ve come. So… hit me with everything you’ve got.”

“Everything?” Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. Tony nodded enthusiastically but Steve shook his head. 

“Well, don’t kill me.”

“Boo! Where’s your sense of fun?” Tony pouted.

“Yeah, let’s see you face up against the spiderkid and how long you’d last - without your suit.” Steve glared at Tony, though it didn’t have much fire behind it. Tony huffed but didn’t saything more, and really Tony not speaking was a win for everybody around. Steve turned back to Peter. “No suits allowed either.”

“Is it okay if I, uh,” Peter held up what he’d been fidgeting with, which Steve recognized as a roll of athletic tape. He mimed wrapping it around his hands. Steve couldn’t help smiling at that. 

“I think I’m going to need that more than you are, but sure.”

They both wrapped their hands, Steve watching in surprise at how well and easily Peter did it, but figuring it must be a part of Natasha’s training, and walked to the middle of the sparring room. 

Now of course, they had both sparred against each other before. But Steve also knew that both of them had been going easy on each other. Steve, who had a more cobbled-together form of fighting made for dealing damage and getting through a war and then fights against things like aliens and robots, where a death toll wasn’t really a worry, and Peter, who had a lot of bite behind his bark but knew enough not to throw punches that killed, but also was still clumsy around the edges. But by this point Peter was more sure about how to fight, edges a bit more sharpened up.

Steve rolled his shoulders, brought his fists up, and braced himself.

oOo

“He’s good.” Steve said.

He said this from a position lying down on a bed, as Bruce - who had been called in by Natasha at some point during the fight - had made it clear that Steve was not to move from the bed until his superhealing kicked in and the world stopped spinning. Steve had had a concussion before, and he was fairly certain that that was what this was. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how you expected this to end well.” Bruce, who was still looking over the results of various tests to make sure ‘lie down for a few hours’ was still the best thing Steve should be doing right now. Steve shrugged.

“I have years of experience on him.” Steve replied, not in the mood to get into the conversation he and Tony had had. To be honest, the kid had surprised him. At the beginning of the fight, Peter had clearly been working to integrate what he’d learned into his technique. As the fight had worn on, though, the training had been thrown to the wind and Steve was reminded of the sparring they’d done when assessing Peter’s skill level. But right near the end there...

“Well, let’s hope kiddo never goes darkside if he really can take down Captain America.” Tony said rather smugly, and it took everything in Steve to remain lying down and not punching the living daylights out of Tony.

“That’s assuming he hasn’t already.” Natasha, who had been quiet for some time now, finally spoke. All attention turned to her at the implication in those words, Steve saw Tony stiffen, expression twisting.

“Natasha, we’ve gone over this-“ he started, but Natasha cut him off.

“That final move he did. The jump, twist in mid air, and bringing his heel down on Steve’s head. That wasn’t just a random move. I’ve seen it before.” And now Tony looked like he wasn’t even breathing.

“What?” He said, quiet and still, and Steve’s heart clenched. No. That… no. Not their Peter. He was just a normal kid, right?

“The Chaste.” Natasha said, eyes closing for a beat. “I haven’t heard anything from them in a while, but they were known for training citizens into soldiers. People you’d never expect. Old people, people with disabilities… children

Chapter Text

It was only Natasha warning Tony that if he did something big and destructive she’d kill him, and Steve being so sure that Tony would anyway, that kept Tony from flying right over to Rand Industries and incinerating Danny where he stood. There was a possibility that in the suit he’d be able to take Natasha and survive, but his pride refused to let him prove Steve right. 

However, nothing they said was going to stop Tony from marching right to Rand’s penthouse to catch him in the act. Was stalking Peter something that Tony had promised himself he wouldn’t do? Yes. But this was more important than that. So when he saw that Peter had gone to Rand Tower, he followed after. He left his suit behind, just to ensure that he didn’t do something he would regret. He still had his gauntlets, though, because he was paranoid and above that he was careful. He wasn’t sure exactly what an ‘iron fist’ was supposed to be capable of - even after Natasha’s explanation - but he knew that he’d probably need some kind of tech advantage against some kind of weird monk magic power. 

Rand Tower didn’t have any kind of exceptional security system, and Tony tore threw them easily. 

He reached Danny’s door and considered knocking for all of one second before he decided against it. He was here because he wanted to catch Danny in the act. So instead he destroyed the lock almost soundlessly and, as quietly as he could, entered the room. There was some music playing, a fast-paced instrumental song that Tony didn’t recognize. 

“No, Danny, you can’t do this to me!” Peter shouted. Tony went rigid for a moment. Peter sounded frustrated, and angry, and upset, and it made Tony want to rush after the voice but he couldn’t. This was actually happening. Why hadn’t Peter ever told him? He’d asked Peter time and again if he was keeping any secret like this from him and he’d trusted Peter to be truthful with him. Was Danny threatening Peter not to tell Tony? Tony’s blood was starting to boil.

“Sorry, Peter, but you never stood any chance as you are.” 

Tony was no longer frozen, though his blood did run cold as he raced to the room that the voices were coming from, activating the Ironman gauntlet and placing his palm open before him, ready to fire off a bolt. 

“Stop right there, Rand!” He shouted. 

He had been expecting to find some kind of training room, to find Danny standing over a beaten-up Peter with fresh bruises that were already healing. Perhaps Danny even had weapons poised above Peter’s head that Peter had to hold back with his bare hands, cutting into them and causing blood to drip down. A million scenarios of what kind of training from the pits of Hell he’d find ran through his brain, a million things that could be going wrong, a million ways that Peter could be dying right now. He didn’t see anything even remotely like them.

Peter and Danny were sitting on a couch, both holding controllers in their hands, a bowl full of popcorn sandwiched between them. The music was coming from the speaks of a large TV that showed a colorful scenery with various platforms. Both Danny and Peter were staring at Tony, wide-eyed and looking extremely confused, video game momentarily forgotten. A pillar of blue light popped up from the bottom of the TV screen that broke the heartbeat of tense silence as the game reported “FINISH!”

“Shit!” Peter hissed, shaking his remote angrily. 

“Language.” Danny said in a voice that clearly said he didn’t really care.

“Aw gosh diddly darn it!” Peter said. The screen changed to one with the smuggest looking frog posing while a skeleton with another skull on its hand clapped. “Next round I’m playing Sheik again, and then it’s all over for you.” Peter threatened, and then turned his attention back to Tony, who hadn't moved from the limen, hand still raised and ready to fire, and feeling very very lost. “Uh, hey Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Did you just break in?” Danny asked. He was squinting at Tony like he still wasn't entirely sure he was there. It was enough for Tony to regain his composure. He lowered his hand, but the gauntlet stayed on. 

“Okay, so maybe you aren’t training him right now,” Tony ceded, “But I know that you’ve been training Peter to be a child soldier, ‘Iron Fist’!” He said the title like a taunt. Danny frowned and hit some button on his controller to pause the game, the music silencing. 

“Tony, I already told you that Danny and I play video games one a week.” Peter shifted around on the couch so that he could more easily look at Tony. “Remember? Back at that meet-and-greet party thing with the really really bad boba on crackers?” 

“That was caviar- okay, doesn’t matter,” Tony shook his head, “But I know he’s training you!”

“I am the Iron Fist, but I can promise you that I haven’t been training Peter.” Danny said, voice calm and level, hands held out in front of him like he was trying to calm an enraged animal, and that only made Tony angrier. He let out a long and slow breath. He needed to keep his cool, he couldn’t lose his head - or at least, not lose his head more than he already had. “I really did try and teach Peter Mandarin when we first met, and I’ll admit that when we were talking at the party I didn’t mention that I had also tried to teach him how to meditate, but in all honesty after Peter didn’t take well to either of those we started to just play games.”

“Then why does Peter know moves that are taught by the Chaste?” Tony demanded. His anger was starting to give way to confusion. Danny… didn’t sound like he was lying? And Peter didn’t look like he was lying or scared. At the mention of the Chaste, Peter got only more confused looking. Danny’s expression, on the other hand opened up, a look of realization and understanding dawning across it, and Tony jumped at the opening. He pointed at Danny. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Uh, hey, as the subject of the conversation who doesn’t know what you’re talking about, can I get a little clued in on what the heck is going on?” Peter asked, raising a hand like he was in school. Danny sighed. 

“Natasha noticed that the moves you were using during your fight with Steve weren’t ones that any of us have taught you. She did, however, recognize them as being used by the Chaste, a group dedicated to defeating the Hand, and the Chaste are supposedly an army of soldiers, hidden in place sight, made of many child soldiers, who are supposed to rally to the Iron Fist’s,” Tony gestured emphatically to Danny, “Aid and call.” Peter still looked lost. Danny looked oddly defeated, oddly sad. 

“Were.” 

“What?” Tony’s gaze darted away from Peter back to Danny. The man had folded his arms, looking downwards.

“They ‘were’ supposed to rally to the Iron First. They were mostly all wiped out before I even knew they existed.” Danny corrected. “There’s only one member of the Chaste that is still alive as far as I know, and he denounced them years ago after they abandoned him.” 

“Only one member?” Peter repeated, looking over his shoulder at Danny. Something clearly clicked in his head as suddenly he sat up straighter, whipping right around and look at Tony, then back at Danny, and then to Tony again so quickly that Tony was afraid for the kid’s neck. “No. Danny, you don’t mean-”

“You always wondered where he learned his stuff, right? Now you know.” Danny said it sourly, bitterly, sadly. He looked back at Tony, and repeated once more, “I haven’t taught Peter any fighting.” 

“... but somebody else has, haven’t they?” Tony removed his gauntlet now that it was clear there was no need for a fight, that there wasn’t going to be a fight, that the person who was turning Tony’s kid into a child soldier wasn’t in the room. “This last member of the Chaste.” 

“He was going to find out sometime, Peter.” Danny sighed, placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder comfortingly. Peter shifted uncomfortably on the couch, avoiding meeting Tony’s eyes. 

“Peter?” Tony stepped closer to the couch, then kneeled so that he wasn’t look down on Peter anymore. “Peter, if somebody’s been training you to fight for them, to join their crazy cult, we can help you. I promise, we won’t be mad. I’m… a little disappointed, maybe, that you didn’t tell me before, but Peter-”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t teach me if you knew!” Peter blurted out, squeezing his eyes shut, hands balled into fists. Tony blinked. 

“What?” 

“I-I thought that, maybe if you guys knew I was already getting training, you guys wouldn’t train me, and then I would lose my chance to hang out with all of you guys. And I’ve learned a lot with you guys! Things the others can’t teach me! And I was also afraid maybe you’d make me stop getting training from them, and I know it’s stupid, but there are things that they can teach me that you guys can’t, and I just, I just wanted to be friends with all of you! Is that really too much to ask for?” Peter said it all in pretty close to one breath, which made Tony start to worry for him. Tony reached out a hand, placing it on one of Peter’s shaking fists.

“Hey, Peter, it’s going to be okay.” Tony promised. He noticed that Danny’s hand was still on Peter’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Who’s been training you?”

“Just some of the other street-level vigilantes.” Peter still wasn’t meeting Tony’s eyes. “They’re really good people, once you get to know them. Sometimes Jessica and Luke come by and help me with how to control my super strength and stuff, there’s this guy named Frank who’s taught me a couple of things about guns.”

“Peter,” Danny said over Peter’s shoulder. Peter finally looked up and met Tony’s eyes. 

“... It's Daredevil. Daredevil’s been training me for a year now.” 

Tony reeled back. 

Daredevil? The angry vigilante, who as far as anybody could tell was either just really good at beating people up or was the actual devil? Who regularly punched his victims into comas and within inches of their lives, but never left ‘dead’? Ridiculously territorial? There were a lot of people Tony could imagine would be terrible role models for a young vigilante. Daredevil was definitely near the top of that, especially considering the number of times the man had supposedly ‘died’, how often the vigilante came so close to death. 

“Daredevil?” Tony repeated. Peter nodded. Tony did his best to keep breathing. He hadn’t rushed here and blown things up. He couldn’t rush down to Hell’s Kitchen and start blowing things up. 

“Danny, did somebody break in?” 

The tension didn’t leave the air, but it did shift as somebody else entered the room. Tony looked behind him to find Ward standing there, looking at Danny, Peter, and then Tony. Nobody moved or said anything. Ward looked at the TV. 

“Dammit, Smash Bros again?”

Chapter Text

Hell breaks loose in New York, but at this point that’s not really news. 

“Alright, FRIDAY’s going to be keeping tally of kills, half-points you knock one down to the point where it can’t get back up and keep fighting.” Tony said as he walked out onto the roof of one of the lower buildings. Not the top of Avengers Tower, that was far too high to be of use to people who died when falling from great distances. Like Hawkeye and Natasha. Amazing? Yes they were. Super human? No.

 ‘Walked’ probably wasn’t the exact right choice of words. In the Ironman suit, Tony really had no choice but to stomp around. It wasn’t made for stealth, and honestly Tony didn’t mind that. He’d leave the stealth to the professionals. 

The current ‘hell’ that had taken over New York was, crazily enough, dinosaurs. Real life dinosaurs on a rampage through New York. Raptor-looking things that if Tony tried to give an actual name to he’s sure somebody would tell him he was very very wrong and point out all the details that proved what kind of dinosaur it actually was. Tony knew a lot about electronics and different makes and models of cars and a whole lot more about architecture that he even thought he’d need to know, but oddly enough his Tony had never found a reason to do deep dives on the internet about dinosaurs in his line of work. 

“Is there some kind of prize for the winner?” 

Tony did his best not to let his displeasure show on his face. Standing on the roof of the building was most of the Avengers: Wanda, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Rhodey, and Sam. But since it was a disaster in all of New York, it also meant that the vigilantes had crawled out from the woodwork to join them on this roof and save their city. 

Peter was standing at head of the group of vigilantes, having helped orchestrate the turnout himself with his own connection. Tony had done his research, and could recognize most of the people present. Danny Rand was there, accompanied by some Asian lady with a sword. The person who had spoke was Jessica Jones, who was still in civilian clothes and standing next Luke Cage, a big mountain of a man with his arms folded and giving Tony a Look. A lady with the same kind of Look and a robotic arm was next to him, mouth moving but whatever words she was saying far too quiet for Tony to hear. Luke Cage’s shoulder’s quivered as he laughed at whatever it had been. There was another man near the back of the group in a big coat and hat had obscured most of his face and was holding one hell of a gun.

And then, of course he’d be at the front of the group, right next to Peter, was Daredevil himself. 

Tony had never run into Daredevil in person, but he was very familiar with the man’s work - especially after all the research he’d done since finding out that Daredevil had been tutoring Peter. 

Almost all accounts of Daredevil say he always looks angry, like there’s a fury inside of him that never dies, hellfire that burns eternal. A bit poetic for Tony’s tastes, but even just look at the man’s face (or lower part of his face that wasn’t hidden in a mask) he could already see what they were talking about. His lips continually twitched, like he was only just stopping himself from snarling, and his fists had a slight shake to them like he was just dying to start punching the shit out of some dinosaurs.

(Which was a crazy sentence, but apparently that was Tony’s life now.)

“Yes, winner gets to pick the movie for movie night.” Tony said. Jessica Jones rolled her eyes. 

“Can we just get on with this?” Luke Cage asked, shifting on his feet and letting his hands fall to his sides. 

“Grab your communicators first.” Natasha instructed as she and Clint handed out small earpieces to the vigilantes. “This way we can keep in contact with each other and more efficiently cover ground.” 

Tony went through the list of who he thought would be best fit where and how many should be grouped together. Last to be sent off was, of course, himself and Daredevil.

“There’s people in danger.” Daredevil said, arms folded. 

“When this is over, we’re talking.” Tony said, leaving no room in his voice for argument, or at least, he thought he had.

“There’s things that Peter can learn from me he can’t from you. Accept that, move on, and stop hanging around Hell’s Kitchen trying to ‘surprise’ me.” Daredevil growled, and Tony had a feeling that that was the only way Daredevil’s voice could ever be described - a growl. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out Daredevil had some kind of wolf dna spliced into him or something. Weirder things could happen. Weirder things had happened. 

And, having gotten the final word in, Daredevil jumped off the roof. 

oOo

Things went smoothly for almost the entire fight, which meant that something had to go sour. 

Tony and Steve had been making great progress finding the source of the dinosaurs, as well as who was, well, controlling them wasn’t the right word… directing the dinosaurs in what to do and who to attack. The entire reason behind sending dinosaurs to attack New York was still lost on Tony, especially when one considered just how many heroes lived right here. An he had to admit that all parts of the fighting force were holding their own. The vigilantes were good at their job, efficient and almost brutal, though whether those were their usual methods or because they were fighting dinosaurs instead of humans, Tony wasn’t sure.

“T-tony,” Peter said over the comms. They’d been working like a charm, but now they almost worked too well because Tony could hear how Peter’s voice had lost it’s upbeatness, a tremble in it that sent him on edge, “I think I’m going to h… have to take a break.” 

“Peter, speak, to me! What happened? Are you hurt?” Tony desperately said into his comms. FRIDAY didn’t even need to be told, automatically bringing up a map of where Tony currently was and where Peter was and how long it’d take Tony to get there. 

“Tony, the portal.” Steve said, pointing to said portal where dinosaurs were coming from. 

“I’m f-fine. I just need to, uh, t-take a break. ” Peter stuttered.

“Steve, can you-” Tony started, but Daredevil cut him off. 

“As long as there’s so many dinosaurs, Peter’s going to be in pain. I’ll look after him, you put a stop to this.” Daredevil said, and FRIDAY brought him up on the map, making a B-line for Tony’s kid. 

There’s a lot of things that go through Tony’s head in that moment. 

1. Closing the portal is probably going to take something stronger than a good punch like Steve - or most of the people here - can offer
2. Tony doesn’t trust Daredevil
3. Peter is Tony’s kid and his responsibility. He brought him into this, it’s his job to make sure he makes it out in one piece
4. Tony trusts Peter. More than he should trust a kid, a kid he hasn’t known all that long, a kid that isn’t related to him
5. Peter trusts Daredevil

“Hang in there Peter, Daredevil’s on his way.” Tony said into the comm. He pretends not to notice the look Steve gives him. He doesn’t know what the look means. Or maybe he does, but it’s a kind emotion than he usually gets from the man and he doesn’t want to get his hopes about anything.

“Overload?” Daredevil said, and his voice is actually more grumble than growl. It’s only over the comms because they don’t really turn off, just go on to standby when others aren’t talking. There’s no audible response from Peter, but Daredevil gave a sigh. “You stayed up last night, didn’t you?” Again, no audible response. “Homework, Ned, or Tony?”

“... Ned.” Peter finally said in that strained voice, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “W-we were bingeing L-lord of the R-r-r-ings.”

“Peter.” Daredevil said in disappointment. “Just focus on me, Peter. I’m right here, just focus on me. Does the light hurt?” 

It clicks then, what has happened to Peter. Tony had done a lot of research into sensory overload. Peter’s new suit was going to be able to help a lot with that, Tony was going to make sure of it. But it wasn’t finished yet, and he was too late to help Peter this time. But Daredevil was there, and knew what to do, and Tony couldn’t deny a part of him was envious of that. 

It was also about right then that, even though Tony was busy fighting off a Spinosaurus with Captain America, he started to put the pieces together. 

“Here, Peter.” Daredevil said.

“B-but-” Peter stuttered, though about exactly what was uncertain. 

“You trust him.” Daredevil said, and by now almost all of the roughness had disappeared from his voice. “So I will too. For you. Now just focus on me.” 

In other news, Spinosauruses aren’t all that hard to fight, it turns out. 

Steve offered to keep an eye on their dinosaur fanatic as he spouted some kind of rhetoric about bringing the Earth back to its roots. He nodded to Tony to get back to Peter, and Tony didn’t need to be told twice. 

Peter and Daredevil and on the roof of a building, leaning up against the roof entrance. Peter had taken off the mask of his suit and it sat next to him, and instead on his head was Daredevil’s mask. One hand is wrapped around Daredevil’s wrist. Peter had explained it to him after that last time. He was focusing on the pulse, on the heartbeat, something slow and constant. 

And Matt Murdock looked in Tony’s direction with a hundred-yard stare.

It looks weird, Matt Murdock in the Daredevil gear. It’s like somebody had chopped off Murdock’s head and glued it to Daredevil’s body. 

“Hey Tony.” Murdock said. Just barely loud enough to be heard. “Nice job back there.” 

“You’re blind.” Tony said bluntly, though mindful of his volume. 

“I’ve noticed.” Murdock agreed. 

“You’re Daredevil.” Tony continued, because he had to make sure the facts were facts and also because the facts seemed a bit crazy (which went back to the subject of his life being crazy). 

“Yeah.” Murdock nodded. “And I’m a lawyer.” 

“And the last member of the Chaste.” Tony added. Murdock sighed.

“Danny told me you’d found out about that.” Murdock said. 

It’s weird, to go from knowing almost nothing about Daredevil as a person to suddenly have to merge the violent vigilante with all the research Tony had done about Matthew Murdock. At least now he knew how the lawyer had probably managed to get out of a prison during a riot. 

“So… my Spanish lessons…” Peter finally spoke up, mask still on his head, and Murdock actually laughed. 

“Let the record show we do practice Spanish while I’m training him.”

oOo

“Jessica and Luke’ll come over later, but we always start with just Matt and I.” Peter explained as he led the way to Murdock, Nelson, and Paige . Their office closed around 4:30 pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays so that Peter could slip in for his ‘Spanish lessons’, which Peter still kept accidentally calling them. “And sometimes Frank drops by too, when he’s in the mood.”

The last client of the day was leaving as Tony and Peter entered the old boxing gym. Matt was already sitting in the middle of the ring wearing sweats and a black shirt. His two partners, Nelson and Paige, were sitting at the table that held the assorted foods they’d been given, eating and talking about different papers that were spread out before them.

“I thought you said it was just Murdock and you.” Tony pointed out. 

“Foggy and Karen work here, they’re allowed to hang around.” Murdock assured Tony. Tony and Peter climbed up into the ring and, when Peter sat down, Tony did as well. He wasn’t able to cross his legs like the other two, so he just had them out straight and leaning back on his hands. “Alright Peter, let’s go get a good look at New York city today.”

The two of them closed their eyes, completely unnecessarily in Murdock’s case, and Tony listened as Murdock guided Peter through sensing the room, feeling the air currents, distinguishing the smells from each other, hearing what was there and focusing on the bounce of the sound waves as they hit objects. 

It was nothing less than amazing. 

Perhaps, Tony mused, vigilantes and Heroes mixing was for the best.

“Wait, as in Frank Castle?!”