Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

- THOR - 1890

Thor was worried. He hadn’t heard from his brother in quite some time. After the strange ‘living army’ incident, Loki had convinced their father to let him stay in Midgard for a while as long as he checked in every couple years.

He’d been there for forty years now, which was a relatively short time for an Asgardian. Unfortunately, he hadn’t contacted them in the last two. 

“Heimdall! I must ask you a favor,” Thor called as he got close to the tall, armored man.

“You wish to know Loki’s location and be taken there.” There was no question in Heimdall’s voice. He didn’t even look towards the prince as he came up to his side.

“Yes. If you would.”

“And what would you do once you found him?” Heimdall asked. Thor blinked in confusion.

“I only wish to make sure he is well.”

“And if he’s not? What would you do then?”

“Then I will bring him home, even if I have to carry him here myself. You have my word.”

“Very well,” Heimdall stated. “He is residing in a small house just outside of a City called London. I will get you as close as I can.”

“Thank you. You are a true friend,” Thor said, clasping the taller man on the shoulder before stepping into position.

The Bifrost opened up quickly, dropping Thor into a mostly empty field before closing.

It was a dreary day in this part of Midgard, the clouds heavily overcast to make everything different shades of grey. There was a set of empty railroad tracks that looked to be abandoned, judging from the numerous rotted or broken beams. Past that was a small house.

It looked as if this small cottage had popped up overnight. Other than the old tracks, there was nothing around it, not even a road or a footpath connecting it the city Thor could see just on the horizon. It looked old, worn from standing up to the weather on its own, and the windows were dark. If Thor hadn’t been told otherwise, he would assume it was abandoned as well.

The inside of the house was not much better. Maybe once upon a time it was a cozy home with cute furniture and various sentimental knickknacks scattered around the place. But now it was dark and cold. Much of the furniture was now broken, smashed against the walls, taking many of the knickknacks with it. What had survived the destruction was coated in a year’s worth of dust, along with everything else.

Loki was in the center of it, curled up on the tilted remains of a sofa, the only thing keeping him from sliding off was a well-worn dip in its surface.

His brother looked just as wrecked as the house. His hair was longer now, in greasy knots around his head, and his skin much paler than Thor thought was healthy. He wore an old, abused green sweater that pooled around him, hiding his form where the large, knitted blanket could not.

He was still, far more than if he were just sleeping. His eyes were glazed, staring off towards the far wall.

Thor immediately thought the worst.

“Brother!” he cried, darting across the room to shake the smaller man’s shoulders. Loki winced. A small sign of life that made Thor exceptionally relieved. “Thank Yggdrasil, I thought I lost you.”

Loki’s eyes were still glazed as they slowly looked at Thor.

“Ow,” Loki said. His voice was flat and airy. Not really much of a voice to start with, but it was enough for Thor to realize, he probably shouldn’t have shaken the man so hard.

“Apologies, brother,” Thor said. He noted how small Loki’s shoulders were at the moment. He felt like skin and bones, with none of the dexterity-based muscles he had not two years ago.  He let go, watching with rising concern as his brother settled back onto the broken sofa, adjusting the blanket with shaky hands.

“What is wrong? Are you ill?” Thor placed a hand on Loki’s forehead like his mother would do for them when they were young. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be checking for by doing it, but it did rise his concern level a few notches when Loki didn’t fight him.

“Do you even know what you are doing?” Loki asked, the statement void of its normal biting tones. He just sounded tired.

“You’re sick.”

“I’ve noticed. It is the least of my troubles at the moment.” Loki’s gaze snapped onto his brother’s pitying one with a frown. “None of which need sharing with you. So just go home.”

“I refuse to leave you in such a state.”

“Your chivalry has no place here. Leave.” Loki adjusted the sweater that had gotten tangled, making Thor notice some of what the bulky clothing had been hiding.

“Oh, sorry. I had not realized you were in your female form. Do you want me to switch your pronouns to match?” Thor asked. It wasn’t unusual for Loki to switch genders on any given day, and Thor wasn’t always the best at picking up the subtle differences between them. It was an unwritten rule between them that Thor would use his more common male pronouns unless corrected to avoid confusion. But, on the occasion he would notice, he always did ask first.

“I would like you to leave,” Loki muttered into a small decorative pillow.

“Brother,” Thor said in exasperation. “You honestly can’t think I’d leave you here, alone and sick.”

“And you think your very presence will help, hmm? Let me tell you brother, I don’t need you. Or anyone else. So you can go, take your high horse, and leave. Me. Be.”

Loki glared at him for a long moment before grabbing a handful of his blanket and rolling over to face the back of the sofa. As he did, Thor saw that he had a bit of a belly despite the rest of his body seeming so thin.

“I understand you are sick, but have you practiced at all in the last forty years? You seem to have put on some weight, particularly in the stomach-“

Thor was cut off by Loki’s pillow to the face. He barely caught sight of an angry, flushed face before he faced the back of the sofa, this time without a pillow.

“Do you want the pillow back or…” Thor asked, purposefully egging Loki on. An angry Loki was better than a non-mobile Loki any day.

“Fuck off,” Loki stated into the back of the sofa.

“Fine, I guess I shall keep it. I may need it if I am to ride that obscenely large horse you say I have.”

“Take it. See if I care.”

“Umm, Mr. Bell?” A tentative voice called from the door. Both Asgardians looked towards the door to find a young woman standing by the door, a small picnic basket looped around one arm. “Is this man bothering you? I can ask him to leave if you’d like.”

“It’s his job,” Loki muttered, going back to glaring at the back of the sofa.

“I am his brother.”

“That explains a lot then. Pleasure to meet you sir,” she said, her demeanor turning cheerful as she set down the basket on a fairly flat piece of broken furniture. “Uncle Luke speaks very highly of you.”

“Are you sure you’re speaking about the person?” Thor asked, only half joking as she laughed lightly. Loki ignored them both.

“Oh gosh. My manors are horrendous today. My name is Chelsea. My father was friends with the Bells while he was alive so after what happened last year I’ve been coming to check on Uncle Luke whenever I can sneak away.”

“What happened last year?” Thor asked, watching Loki as he seemed to tense but did not look back.

“He, well, he lost his husband. I mean, they weren’t legally married or anything but, well, it was always easier to call them as such. It was really quite tragic,” Chelsea whispered, shooting Loki a concerned glance of her own. “There was an illness going around and he just wasn’t strong enough to fight it off. Uncle Luke was distraught; especially considering he just found out he was pregnant.”

“He’s…with child?” Thor asked in shock. That explained where the larger than normal stomach was from.

“I’ve tried to convince him to live with me and my family but he always refuses. He won’t leave this house even though he’s destroyed most of the furniture in his grief,” She explained, starting to pull little napkin wrapped piece of food out of her basket. “He should have had the baby by now but he still only looks about five or six months in. I figured it must have to do with he, um, not being exactly human. Do your… people’s pregnancies last longer than a year?”

“I believe so.”

“Ok, good. That is one less thing to worry about. Now, if I can get him to eat today, I’ll be happy. Do you think you can convince him?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Thor said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I am going to take him home.”

“I’m not leaving,” Loki said, not looking at them.

“You have no say in the matter,” Thor stated, turning back to Chelsea. “I thank you for caring for my wayward sibling. I know from experience that is no easy task. My family is in your debt.”

“Oh, no need for all that. He’s practically family. It was the least I can do,” Chelsea stammered out shyly. “Here, I’ll go grab his things. At least the important ones. It might make him a little more willing to go.”

“I’m not going.”

“You are.”

“You can’t make me.”

“In the state you are in right now, I’m fairly certain a small child could make you,” Thor stated. “We’re going home, and you’re going straight to mother for healing.”

“You oaf,” Loki hissed finally sitting up to look at his brother. He looked so unsteady even just sitting there that Thor placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from falling over. Loki didn’t notice. “What do you think is going to happen when I go back looking like this?”

“No one’s ever had a problem with your female-“

“Not that! What is going to be said when I come back pregnant? Better yet, what’s father going to say. I’ll tell you right now, it’s not going to be anything positive,” Loki said. “Father already thinks I’m a disgrace. What will he do when he finds out said disgrace of a son is having a child? A Midgardian child? He won’t let me keep it, that’s for certain. He probably won’t even let me birth it.”

“He wouldn’t-“

“Wouldn’t he? Look me in the eyes brother and tell me he would be happy about this development.”

Thor looked at his brother for a long moment. He wasn’t the best at reading people, but right now, Loki was like an open book. It was so unlike the brother he knew, always guarded about his feelings and emotions that he wasn’t sure what to say. He could see that Loki was still in mourning about this lost ‘husband,’ the pain etched deep into his features even a year after the man’s death. He was also quite certain of what would happen if he went home, but that didn’t stop a small bit of hope from taking route.

Thor realized with a jolt that Loki was still waiting for an answer. Thor knew their father best, he was his heir after all. Loki’s bit of hope resided in that fact. But, having a chance to think, Thor already knew it was useless.

“Mother wouldn’t let him,” He said after a long pause. Thor saw that tiny sliver of hope leave his brother, making Loki lean more heavily against Thor’s hand until it was the only thing keeping him vertical. He didn’t even look like he was aware of it.

“You know damn well there would be no stopping him about this,” Loki whispered.

“Then we simply won’t tell him,” Thor said. Loki looked up at him in confusion. “I’ll take you to mother and she can take you somewhere hidden. There are plenty of places even father can’t see and I am certain mother knows of at least one of them.”

“Or I can stay here.”

“You need help, brother,” Thor stated firmly. “You are weak and most certainly sick. If you stay alone much longer, I fear I could loose both you and your child. I doubt you want that considering the lengths you are going to keep father from finding out.”

“I’m not going,” Loki repeated, making Thor groan. This was harder than trying to herd cats.

“You are going,” Chelsea’s voice cut in, getting both of their attention as she walked back down the hall. She had a small satchel of items in one hand and a well-worn cane in the other.

Loki’s eyes narrowed as he saw the cane.

“Put that back,” he hissed.

“No,” Chelsea said, not backing down. “I’m sorry Uncle Luke but I’d imagine you’ll want it if you’re going home.”

“This is my home. I’m not going anywhere. Put it back.”

Chelsea sighed as she stepped into the room. She pointedly turned to Thor, ignoring Loki to the best of her ability.

“It’s Uncle Theo’s cane. He had it made for him years ago. It hasn’t left the side of the bed since he died,” she explained, handing both the bag and the cane to Thor.

Loki made a grab for the cane but missed, almost ending up on the floor instead. The only thing keeping him on the couch was Thor’s other hand still on his shoulder.

“Here’s his things,” Chelsea said, a concerned look on her face as Loki reached for it again, but missed.  “Do take good care of him, will you? I’ll be quite cross with you if you don’t.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Thor said, tossing the bag over his shoulder and looping the cane in his belt. Loki was still trying to reach the cane and Thor needed both hands to keep him from falling to the floor. “Even a warrior such as myself wouldn’t dare do anything to incur your wrath.”

“Thank you,” She said, her face blushing from the praise.

Thor turned his attention back to Loki as the man struggled weakly to get the cane.

“I will give you the cane when we are back on Asgard and mother has been called. Is that clear?” Thor stated, making Loki pause. The man stilled for a long moment before his arms finally dropped to his side like he was a puppet with his strings newly cut.

“Are we leaving or what?” He said quietly, his voice barely there. Thor shook his head, taking a moment to wrap the blanket around Loki before hoisting him into his arms.

Thor nodded briefly to the young woman before carrying his brother outside to the location he had landed earlier. He glanced down at him briefly to see him still reaching for the cane despite the deal, his hand just barely brushing the wood.

“You’re more sentimental than you pretend to be, brother,” Thor whispered, not getting a response before calling for their ride home.

-PETER- 2015

Peter looked out the window, watching the Atlantic ocean zoom past from Mr. Stark’s personal jet. It was amazing, and fairly intimidating, to be flying this high above the ground. He wasn’t sure he liked it very much, but he’d get used to it. Maybe. He’d at least put up with it for the chance to prove himself.

Looking for a distraction, he peered through the crack between the seats to spy on Mr. Stark. He was scanning through something on a large tablet, occasionally setting it down to pull it up as a hologram. It was fascinating to watch but Peter had other questions already on his mind.

“What kid?” Stark asked, not looking up from his tablet. Peter hid behind his chair. “Look, I get I’m amazing but I really don’t have time to play the shy game.”

Peter peeked through the chairs again, to see the man had placed his tablet down and was looking towards him.

“You got a question, yeah?” Stark asked, giving him his full attention despite only seeing probably half his face. Peter nodded. “Then ask.”

“It’s about what happened in New York a few years ago. The alien invasion.”

“What about it?” He asked. “And FRIDAY, turn his chair around, will you? I can’t possibly have a proper conversation with him spying at me through chairs.” 

“Yes boss,” A little, robotic voice piped up right before Peter’s chair spun, making the boy squeak in surprise. Before he knew it, he was sitting properly in his chair, facing Mr. Stark.

“Now what was it you wanted to ask? Keep in mind, if it is anything similar to ‘what’s it like to go through a magic space portal with a nuke strapped to your back’ I will give you a unique demonstration by throwing you out of my plane. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll let one of my suits pick you back up again.”

Peter gulped. Luckily that wasn’t what he wanted to ask. 

“Um, no. That’s not...That wasn’t it.”

“So spit it out kid. It would be great to hear it sometime this hour and not when we’re stopping Cap and his friends.”

“Is it true that Loki was behind it all?” Peter asked all at once. Stark gave him a strange look.

“How do you know about that asshole?” Tony asked. “I’m pretty sure that name never went public. At least not connected to the New York invasion. Can’t exactly redact the history books, not easily anyways.”

“I’ve...done some research,” Peter hedged, hands twisting the braided cord around his wrist.

“Ah, hacked the government archives. I like your style,” Stark said with a nod. Peter stayed silent, not wanting to correct him. The truth was much more unbelievable anyways. “But, yeah. That piece of work orchestrated the whole thing.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Dead, I think. Though from what I heard, death isn’t very binding for the guy. He’s been thought to have kicked the bucket before but then he came back and tried to take over New York,” Stark said. He tapped at his tablet some more, but didn’t look particularly invested in it. “I’m not saying Thor was wrong. I’m just saying that, if I were him, I'd be a little more suspicious of green and gold snakes than he currently is.”

“He’s...dead?” Peter said, trying to hide the disappointment from his voice. It must not have worked very well considering Stark’s eyes snapped back to him.

“We didn’t kill him, if that’s what’s worrying you. As easier as it would make things sometimes, we try not to kill our teammates’ families,” Stark said simply. Peter nodded. “He was sent home with his brother to be locked up for eternity. Unfortunately, some shit went down over there and old Rudolph beefed it trying to help. Honestly, that sounds a little sketchy to me but hey, I’m not Asgardian and therefore have no say in the matter.”

“You think he could be alright?”

“I’m saying that considering his background of trickery and, you know, not dying when he’s supposed to, it is a possibility.” 

“Yeah,” Peter said, definitely relieved.

“So kid, wanna tell me why seem pretty damn happy about a murdering psychopath being alive?” Stark asked. Peter blinked at him, eyes wide with only partially feigned innocence. “Don’t give me that look. You were positively gleeful at the mention of Loki's possible escape from death.”

“I’m just...well, I’m just happy Thor might not have lost his brother. That’s all.”

“Uh huh. Sounds fake, but sure. We’ll go with that.” Stark picked up the tablet again in earnest. “As long as you’re not trying to follow in the guy’s footsteps then I don’t really care.”

“No! I promise. I’ve never even thought about world domination.”

“Really? Damn, and here I thought everyone at least considered it,” Stark stated.

“Even you?”

“Especially me,” Stark said, glancing over his tablet to look at Peter once again. “I’m insanely rich and incredibly smart. If I wanted to, I could become king of Earth in no time. Even came up with a plan in my early twenties. Then I decided it would be too much work so I settled with owning most of it instead. Works out a lot better if I'm being honest."

"That's good," Peter said, not really sure what to think about it.

"What's your interest in Reindeer games anyways?"

"When is Thor going to be back to Earth?" Peter asked, the change in topic very obvious even to him. But he'd really rather not get into that with Mr. Stark of all people.

"Whenever he feels like it, I suppose. You still didn't answer my question."

"Do you think it will be soon? I'd really like to meet him," Peter said instead. Stark sighed in defeat.

"Don't know. Maybe. Why are you so eager to meet the flying lightning rod anyways?"

"He's a literal god. And an Avenger," Peter said with a smile.

"You're literally a few hours away from meeting ninety percent of the Avengers right now."

"I know! And it's great! But I would like to meet Thor too."

"Teens today. Not happy unless they get everything," Stark said, shaking his head.

“I think teens have always been like that,” Peter said.

“Says the fifteen-year-old child,” Stark said with a shake of his head.

Peter looked out the window yet again, trying to hide an amused smirk that didn’t want to stay hidden.

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered. He saw a blip of not water through his window, distracting him. “Hey, is that England?!”

Chapter Text

- LOKI - 1891

It was raining, just as it always did when Thor was upset. Loki glanced at the big oaf next to him. Even if the rain didn’t give away his emotions, his face sure did. His features were set in a deep frown that would crease his face if he wasn’t careful. He should pay attention to those sort of things. It wasn’t like he could just shapeshift it away like Loki.

“Will you stop? It’s not like it’s yours,” Loki chastised, looking straight now in order to follow the street.

“I don’t see why you would do this,” Thor admitted, shooting his brother a look that he caught out of the corner of his eyes. “Loki, he is our kin.”

“I have my reasons,” Loki said simply, coming to a stop in front of an old, building. It looked abandoned but Loki knew better.

“None of which you have shared with me,” Thor pointed out.

“I don’t need to explain my actions to you, brother.”

“But-“

“If you aren’t going to help, then stay outside. I don’t need your idiotic sentiment ruining everything,” Loki interrupted.

“He’s your son!” Thor exclaimed, making several people look towards him in shock before they shuffled away. Loki rolled his eyes, stealing a glance at the open-faced basket dangling on one arm. A blanket covered the top, keeping its contents hidden and out of the rain.

“And the sooner I get rid of him, the better.” Loki’s voice was cold, making his brother deflate.

“I cannot watch you give up your only child in such a way.”

“Then stay put. This shouldn’t take long.” Loki strode into the decrepit building alone, leaving his brother to the increasing downpour outside.

He barely blinked as the interior showed to be a lot nicer than the exterior. He walked confidently down the too-long hallway; his boots tapping loudly against the stone tile. He was dressed simply, at least for his standards, with a light green tunic, black pants, and some knee-high boots with a bit of a heel. He was going for discrete, sure, but he still had standards.

Loki paused for only a moment, using his magic to scout where the other, magically inclined individuals were located in the building. Luckily most of them were in a room a few doors down, including a being with more magic then the rest combined. Figuring that was the person he needed to talk to, Loki headed there.

Everyone jumped to their feet upon his dramatic entry of the room. Everyone except one, that is. She was a fairly pretty female with a shaved head and bright yellow robes. She also happened to be the source of the largest magical signature in the building.

“No need to stand, I won’t be here long,” Loki said dismissively. He ignored their threatening postures, stepping straight into the center of the room. The woman in charge held up a hand to tell her little lackies to wait. “I am simply dropping off a package I saw on your front steps. I couldn’t just leave it out there in the rain until one of you bothered to check, being the good Samaritan that I am.”

“Is that so?” The woman stated as she stood herself. Loki thought he heard a speck of sarcasm in her voice but ignored it. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. “Let me see it then.”

Loki passed the basket over, watching carefully as she set it onto a table and pulled out the small package inside. The infant was sleeping, or Loki assumed he was. He wrapped so thoroughly in his navy-blue blanket that all the god of mischief could see from his vantage point was his ashy brown curls.

“Ah, I had wondered what was in there,” Loki said. “Good thing I brought him in when I did. I suppose I will take my leave. Allow the new family to get acquainted and all-“

She dropped him.

Loki’s heart leaped into his throat as he dove forward to catch him before he hit the floor. He knew he was going to miss.

A foot away from the floor, a yellow sparkling portal opened up, swallowing the baby up.

Loki knelt in shock for several seconds after the poral disappeared. Before he could even figure out what to say, another poral opened up right in front of him, gently dropping the blue bundle into his still outstretched arms.

The baby wasn’t asleep any longer, his cries filling the otherwise silent room. With shaking hands, Loki tried to sooth his son while checking for injuries. There was nothing. The boy was fine other than being a bit startled.

“Leave me,” The woman ordered. Within moments the only people still in the room were her and Loki.

“Are you mad?” Loki demanded, his voice no more than an angry whisper. He glared up at the woman as the baby’s cries finally quieted.

“No more than you,” she said, standing above him. “State your business plainly, Loki god of Lies. I will put up with no more of your false narratives in my domain. Ask your favor or I will toss both you and your progeny back out into that rain your brother causes.”

Loki glared at the woman. He had hoped he would be able to spin this in such a way that he would not be in anyone’s debt. Either he was getting rusty or…

“You knew my purpose before I even entered this building,” Loki stated, deflating slightly.

“Did you think I would not be aware of what happens on my own doorstep?” She questioned.

“That idiot. I knew I should have left him behind,” Loki muttered to himself. He straightened up, pulling himself off the floor, his son held close. “I don’t see why I must ‘state my business’ then if you already know what it is.”

“I know why you’re here, yes. But I don’t see why I should agree to it,” she answered simply. She turned her attention to a tea set nearby, pouring herself a mug. “Would you like some tea?”

“No. Thank you,” Loki said, the thanks more of an afterthought. “You wish me to convince you to take this child?”

“I wish to know your reasoning why your child must be raised away from his parents.” She turned back to him, a steaming mug now clasped in her hands. “One does not simply hunt down a group of magical practitioners to foster their child for no reason.”

“I am Loki, the god of mischief and lies. I am chaos incarnate. I do what I want on a whim.”

“Even chaos has reason. It does not simply sprout from nothing.” She sipped her tea, watching Loki over the top of her cup as he scowled at her. “So, give me your reasons and I will consider your request.”

For a moment, Loki considered just leaving. He was a prince of Asgard. He had no need to adhere to some mortal woman’s demands. But the infant made a small whimper, immediately drawing Loki’s attention. The child wasn’t exactly upset anymore but he was still looking for comfort. At some point his little hand had escaped the confines of the blanket to grab Loki’s tunic. The boy didn’t like being ignored.

Loki sighed.

“His other parent was mortal,” Loki said quietly, running a hand through the baby’s curls so the little one knew he had his attention. “According to the physicians, he ages at a mortal rate, a far shorter time frame than my own. He would do much better among those that share his lifespan.”

“In other words, you do not wish to watch your child grow old while you still remain the same age,” She replied. “A selfish reason, is it not.”

“Don’t speak to me about selfish, mortal,” Loki snapped. “I have already watched one person I care for wither and die in the time it takes my hair to grow long. I refuse to watch my son do the same.”

“Is that your only reason?” She asked. “Giving up a child is a big decision, I’m sure you would have many.”

“It’s the only one you need to worry about,” he stated. He leveled a glair in her direction that she met with a calculating stare. They were silent for a long moment. The exchange was broken when she sipped her tea once more.

“Then why here? There are plenty of people among us ‘mortals’ that would be willing to take in a small child. Why spend time and energy hunting down my group just for this?”

“He has magic,” Loki answered, wiggling his fingers in front of the baby as he tried to grab them. He wasn’t exactly good at it yet, but he definitely tried.

“All mortal’s do. They only have to learn to access it.”

“No, not like yours,” Loki stated. “His magic is like mine. Always there, always moving under his skin, begging to be used. And use it he will, whether he is taught to or not. It is best for him to be raised by those who understand magic and can teach him to control it.”

“So, you brought him here.”

“Yes.”

The woman set her cup down, giving Loki her full attention.

“Very well, I will take the child,” she said. Loki was very careful to keep the relief off his face. “But you must do two things in return.”

“If you think I’m desperate enough to pay you…”

“I have no use for your gold.” She waved a hand dismissively. “What I ask isn’t even for me, but for him.”

“What is it then?” Loki asked, his fingers stilling as the baby finally grabbed hold of them.

“First, a letter explaining his situation in its entirety. Every detail a child would want to know about their family. Including every reason why you left him with me,” She stated. “It will be for his eyes only, when he’s old enough to want to know. Forcing a child to live without those answers would be cruel and I will not stand for it.”

“It will be done,” Loki said simply. “What is your second request?”

“Something sentimental. A small token he can cling in the coming years. Something to show him he was cared for.”

“I have no use for sentimental tokens.” Loki watched as the baby tried to pull his fingers towards his mouth. “But I believe I have something that will suffice.”

“Very well. I will give you some time to put those items together and say your goodbyes,” she said, taking her seat once again.

“No need,” Loki stated.

He pulled his hand free of his son’s grasp, summoning a scroll into it. He focused his magic, imbuing the scroll with as much of it as he dared. He then shaped it carefully into what he wanted. Once he was done, the once plain scroll had taken on a green and gold coloring, the icon of a magpie burned onto the outside. He studied it for a moment, insuring it was done. When he was happy with the work he summoned a small, red and blue dyed leather bracelet to wrap itself around it.

Loki held the scroll out to the women, who had watched the proceedings in silence.

“Here is what you asked. The scroll will not give up its secrets for anyone other than my son. To access them he only needs to state his full name and ask for what he seeks,” he explained as she took the items.

“And the bracelet? I assume that is your token for him.”

“A birthday present from my brother when we were children. One of the few I did not mind getting,” he stated. “Is this sufficient?”

“Yes, I believe so.” She set the scroll aside, holding one arm out, silently asking for the child.

Loki looked down at him for a long moment, emotions sneaking into his normally controlled mind. He had been determined at the start of this but now? Well, this was a lot more difficult than he had planned on.

The boy stared up at him, his big green eyes blinking but otherwise not breaking contact. Loki almost wished the child had been asleep. This would be a lot easier if he were asleep.

Loki ignored the lump forming in his throat as he gingerly passed the child over.

“His name is Peter,” Loki said quietly, still watching the baby as he wiggled in the woman’s arms. “Peter Bell Lokison. It is a bit untraditional but, then again, I have never been one for tradition. He’s almost six months now.”

“I will take good care of him, you have my word.”

“I will hold you to it.” Loki turned on his heals and walked straight out the door. He ignored the boy’s whimpers that he knew would turn into full-fledged crying soon enough. It…It wasn’t his problem any longer. He needed to only return home.

He was outside soon enough, face to face with his scowling brother as it down poured around him.

“I see it is done,” Thor stated, anger evident in his voice.

“It is.” Loki walked past him, starting up the street. He normally would spell himself to not get wet, or at the very least summon an umbrella. He didn’t feel like doing either of those things at the moment. “Let us go home.”

“You just gave up your son and all you can say is, ‘let us go home?’” Thor exclaimed, the rain coming down even harder as lightning streaked across the sky. “Do you have no shame?!”

“I am tired and wish to rest in my own bed for once,” Loki stated, summoning an old, familiar cane to his hands. He did not need it to walk, but it did comfort him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Whatever Thor was going to answer with seemed to die in his throat. Loki did not need to see his brother’s face to know he recognized the cane, or that he knew its significance. Thunder rolled in the distance, no longer sounding angry, just sad.

“Very well,” Thor said, his voice withdrawn. “Let us return home.”

-SCOTT LANG- 2015

Scott was not having a good day. Yeah, sure, it started out alright. He got to help Captain America of all people. That was awesome. He wasn’t sure he really understood why they were fighting Iron Man or why some kid dressed in a spider-themed onesie was even present. But he felt like he was doing good. Until he exhausted himself turning Godzilla size and Cap disappeared with his metal-armed boyfriend, leaving them to be arrested by the German cops.

Or, he assumed they’d be arrested by the German cops once they actually got there since most of the people left behind were immobile right now.

He glanced over at the Spider-kid just to check on him. He was laying on the concrete, still conscious but definitely recovering from getting swatted out of the sky. He felt bad that the boy got involved in a fight like this. He was probably in the same boat as Scott, not knowing why he was there other than to be a surprise gun aimed at the other team.

Scott really wished his first co-op job with the Avengers hadn’t involved fighting half of them.

The cops showed up then, and began collecting the scattered heroes and putting them all in cuffs, even the ones on Stark’s side. Scott figured they were doing the whole, collect them now, sort them later routine, which wasn’t unusual. He had a feeling he was going to be part of the ‘stays arrested’ part. Even if he wasn’t, the fact he didn’t have a passport on him meant he probably would anyways. 

Scott glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of the kid to see how he was handling it. The spider-boy was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s the kid?” Scott asked, looking a little harder into the crowd. Still no sign of the red and blue dressed teen.

“Kid?” one of the cops asked with a heavy German accent. “You brought a child with you?”

“Well we sure as hell didn’t!” Ant-man said indignantly. He would have continued if not for the nearby Black Widow kicking him in the shins.

“There was no kid,” she said, leveling him with a stern glare that promised pain if he didn’t listen.

“Right. No kid. I must have imagined it. Yeah, that’s all it was. An imaginary kid,” Scott rambled, not wanting to get on her bad side. He’s heard stories and he’d rather not find out if they were true first hand.

“Was there, or was there not, another person part of this?” The cop asked, watching them both suspiciously. Scott kept silent, deciding it was best to let Natasha take care of the talking from now on.

“No, there wasn’t.”

The cop stared at them for a good long moment before nodding.

“Take them away. And double check the grounds, make sure we got everyone.”

Scott got pulled along towards the patty wagons, both getting chucked into the back without much of a care.

“So, why are we keeping the spider a secret?” Scott whispered, hoping not to be overheard.

“Because if he somehow got away without being caught, then we’re not going to be the ones rating him out. It’s better for everyone if he doesn’t get involved with foreign cops. He’s still just a kid after all.”

“Yeah, ok. Sounds good. The press would have a field day if they found out Stark hired a literal child to fight his battles for him,” Scott said. Natasha sent him a glare. “Just saying.”

“Which is why we’re not going to say anything,” She all but ground out.

“How did he get away anyways? I mean he’s kind of hard to miss with such a bright suit,” Scott mussed before a thought struck him. “Wait, can he actually turn into a spider? That would be so cool.”

“No,” Natasha said with a sigh.

“What are his powers anyways? You know, other than swinging around and stealing from senior citizens.” 

“According to Tony, he’s basically super everything, can stick to things, and apparently a sixth sense for danger.”

“What about the pew pew thing from his wrists?” Scott asked, trying to mimic the shooting with his hands despite being cuffed to the floor. It didn’t work out so well.

“Gadgets. Invented them himself,” Natasha stated.

Scott gave an impressed whistle as the truck they were in started to move. 

“So, he’s a little, naturally supered, Stark. That’s kind of adorable. And a bit scary.” 

He glanced out one of the windows to see where he was going, only to shriek at the sight of a spider the size of his hand clinging to the glass from the outside.

“What is it now?” Natasha asked. Scott could only point at the giant red and blue arachnid that seemed to stare at him through the glass before hopping off. By the time Natasha looked where he was pointing, it was gone. “Yes, we’re leaving. The car is moving.”

“No! That’s not…” Scott trailed off as he processed what he had seen. A red and blue spider was there, soon after their red and blue dressed spider-man had disappeared.

“Um. Are we sure the kid can’t turn into a spider?”

Chapter Text

-STEVE-1945

Steve blinked in shock, barely coming back to himself enough to duck back down before a barrage of bullets came his way.

“Are you trying to get shot?!” Bucky called across the way.  Steve waved away his concern, turning his attention towards the small child that was currently sharing his cover. 

He hadn’t been there a minute ago.

The kid was small, maybe four or five with ashy brown curls in chaos around his head. He blinked back at Steve, his bright green eyes wide.

“What are you doing here kid?” Steve asked desperate.

The boy muttered something in an unknown language before trying to peek around the barrier. Steve pulled him back before he could be seen.

“Oh no you don’t. Stay here,” Steve said, pointing at the ground. He stared at the man for a long moment before sitting down. Steve offered him a smile, one he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Good.”

He thought for a moment before taking his shield and sticking it into the ground in front of the boy. It covered him in his entirety, which is exactly what he hoped it would do. The less of a chance he could get hurt, the better.

Bucky darted across the gap, dodging several bullets and skidding into place next to Steve.

“What are you doin- is that a kid?!” Bucky stared at the little face peeking out to look at him. He ducked back behind the shield when Steve pointed to it.

“Radio the others, we need to finish this up now.”

“Why is there a kid here?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving him in hostile territory. Let’s see if we can get these fine men to stop shooting at us.”

“What are we going to do, ask them nicely?”

“Something like that,” Steve answered, readying a pistol.

-

The mission was over fairly quick after that and Steve thanked God that the kid was still perfectly fine when he came back. Other than being a little spooked that is. During the couple of hours it took to get back to base the boy had clung to Steve exclusively, not wanting anything to do with the other members of his group. Bucky tried to take him once causing the boy to start yelling loud complaints in a different language. At least they assumed they were complaints considering he only clung to Steve even harder.

Steve hadn’t wanted a lot of attention when he returned, particularly that of the press. But apparently Captain America carrying a toddler onto an army base was newsworthy.

“Steve,” Peggy said sternly. “I’m assuming that’s not yours.”

“The kid seems to think otherwise.” Bucky smirked, ignoring Steve’s warning look. “He yells whenever someone so much as reaches for him.”

“No, we just found him at the mission sight,” Steve explained, trying to ignore the several cameras flashing as the crowd formed around them.

“And you brought him here,” Peggy said flatly. “To an army base.”

“It was better than leaving him in the empty Nazi base.”

Peggy just stared at him, her expression not changing.

“I take full responsibility for him until we find his parents,” Steve said.

Peggy nodded curtly before leaving them to their own devices. Steve sighed in relief.

“I think your girlfriend’s mad at you,” Bucky whispered, still trying to hide a smirk.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever you say,” Bucky said. Steve didn’t even have a chance to defend himself, Bucky elbowed him with a smile. “Come on, let’s get the kid some food. Don’t know when he last ate and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“If he’ll even eat it,” Steve said flatly, following his friend to the mess tent despite his complaints.

“Not every kid’s a picky eater, Steve,” Bucky teased as they ducked into the tent. It was fairly empty at the moment, the only people present being the kitchen staff and his own returning group.

Steve sat down at an open table, trying to coax the kid into sitting next to him. It took awhile but eventually he let go of the suit, perching himself as close to the captain as the bench allowed. 

Steve didn’t even notice Bucky had left until he came back with three lunch rations consisting of some sort of brothy soup, hard tack, and lukewarm coffee.

“Here yah go, kid. Eat up,” Bucky said, placing one of the portions in front of the boy. He ruffled the kid’s hair, laughing when he only got a complaining squawk in response. 

“He’s never going to eat that, Buck,” Steve insisted, watching the kid eye it suspiciously before turning towards his friend. The brunet took the seat across from him.

“He won’t with that attitude.” Bucky pointed his spoon at Steve before dipping it into his soup. “Lead by example. You eat. He’ll eat. Simple as that.”

“And how do you know so much about kids?”

“I’m not an only child, Steve. You pick stuff up after a while,” Bucky said with a shrug. “More than you, apparently.” 

Steve just shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. It wouldn’t do him much good and it tasted horrible, but it made sure his hands weren’t idol.

“Plus, he might even be able to get his name once he’s done.”

“You couldn’t bribe a starving man with these rations.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Bucky said, starting on his own portion. “By the way, I was right. He’s already digging in.”

Steve glanced over at his charge, noting that he was in fact, eating his meal. What confused him was that it wasn’t the same meal he had been handed.

“Where did he get the rice?” Steve asked, getting Bucky’s attention. He looked over in confusion, obviously seeing the same thing Steve was, a soup bowl full of white rice.

“Our base doesn’t have rice,” Bucky said slowly. “That's the same bowl though.”

“How the hell did his soup turn into rice?”

“I’d imagine it’s the same way his hard tack turned into a cookie,” Bucky pointed out. Steve’s head snapped back to find a molasses cookie sitting on the tray where the hard tack used to be. “Should we take it from him?”

“I don’t want to startle him,” Steve said, trying to sound calm. “It looks fine to me.”

The kid looked up from his meal, looking between Steve and Bucky’s confused looks carefully. He seemed to come to some conclusion, asking the two something in a language they didn’t recognize. The adults shared a look as the kid waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he rolled his eyes and babbled something again as he pointed towards his own food, then at Bucky’s.

“I’m not sure what he’s asking but I’m just going to say yes,” Bucky said after a long pause. He nodded before Steve could stop him.

The kid smiled widely, reaching over the table to touch the bowl. To both of their surprise, a dim green light surrounded the food as it morphed into something else right in front of them. The adults’ eyes were as wide as saucers by the time the light faded, revealing white rice and a cookie

There was silence for a long moment as Bucky and Steve just stared at the transformed food. The kid looked between the two tensely, getting more concerned as time went on.

“I’m going to try it,” Bucky said, getting Steve’s attention.

“Bucky no. You don’t-”

Bucky already had half the cookie in his mouth. He groaned, making Steve almost climb out of his chair in concern.

“This is amazing,” he finally said around the cookie. Steve stared at him flatly. “What? I haven’t had an actual cookie since I was deployed. Sue me.”

Bucky grinned widely at the boy, flashing him a thumbs up before continuing to eat the cookie. 

Steve was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening when the kid pulled lightly on his sleeve, getting his attention.

The boy said something, pointing at Steve’s plate. He wasn’t sure what was said, but it sounded a lot like what he asked Bucky before his tray glowed green. Steve nodded, watching carefully this time as the boy touched the tray and it too was engulfed in a dim green light before shifting into an identical meal as the other two. 

“Try the cookie,” Bucky urged, having already finished his. “It’s to die for.”

“We don’t know what it’s made of, Bucky. It could actually kill you.”

“If you’re not going to eat it, then I’ll take it.” Bucky reached for Steve’s cookie only for his hand to get swatted. Steve glared at him. He picked up the cookie, examining it for a moment before taking a tentative bite.

It tasted like a cookie. A molasses cookie which was something he hadn’t tasted in a long time. It was very good. The kid watched him intently, seeing if he liked it. Steve smiled, making the boy smile wide in response before turning back to his own food. 

They ate for a while in silence, enjoying something other than brothy soup for the first time in a while. The kid finished his off quickly, getting a little antsy the longer he sat there. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Bucky asked, tapping his empty try to get his attention. The boy tilted his head, blinking curiously at him. He didn’t understand a word. “Your name?”

He only blinked again.

“I’m Bucky,” Bucky said, pointing towards himself. “Bu-cky.”

“Buby?” The kid said.

“No, Bucky.”

“Buby!” he smiled happily, looking slightly smug.

“Close enough,” Bucky said with a shrug. He pointed towards Steve. "That’s Steve.”

“Seve.”

“No, STeve.”

“Seve.”

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you,” Bucky said with narrowed eyes. He shook his head and pointed expectantly towards the kid questioningly.

He squinted at Bucky, not getting what he was asking. Bucky sighed pointed towards himself.

“Bucky.” He pointed towards Steve, “Steve.” Pointed towards the kid.

The boy stared at him for a long moment before his face brightened up with recognition.

“Peter!” He said happily.

“Peter?” Bucky questioned. He nodded happily. “Nice to meet you Peter.”

“Seve. Buby,” Peter said, pointing towards the men in turn.

“Yes,” Bucky said, nodding excitedly to little Peter. “And you’re-“

“Peter,” A voice called calmly from outside the tent. Peter’s head spun towards, his grin widening.

“One!” he called back, surprising both men with the first English word they heard from the boy before he launched himself off the bench and out of the tent.

“Hey kid! Wait a second!” Steve yelled, jumping up to follow him as Bucky stumbled out of his own bench behind him. He was outside fast enough to see Peter launching himself at a bald woman standing in the middle of the square.

The woman was clearly out of place, her bright yellow robes standing out among the muted army fatigues. She looked about Steve and Bucky’s age but even from a single look, Steve could see she gave off an almost ancient air.

She smiled kindly at Peter, swiftly lifting him onto her hip as he chattered to her a mile a minute. The soldiers around her were tense, like they were confused by her very existence while she simply ignored them, giving the boy in her arms her full attention.

“Seve! Buby!” Peter shouted, catching sight of them once again and trying to wave them over. They shared a questioning look amongst themselves but quickly gave into the boy’s insisting.

“Hey Peter, who’s this? Your mom?” Bucky asked, earning a chuckle from the woman.

“Not quite,” She answered, her English accented but still completely understandable. “I would be more akin to his guardian than any sort of parent. As such I thank you for keeping Peter out of trouble during his little misadventure.”

“It was no trouble,” Steve answered as Bucky was still trying to figure out how she spoke English. “He’s a cute kid. Not sure how he ended up in the middle of a Nazi army base but it worked out in the end.”

“Did he now?” She questioned, turning back to her ward and asking him something in a different language. Peter turned sheepish, mumbling something as he fiddled with a piece of her robes. “He was apparently playing hide-n-seek with another and wanted a very good hiding spot. He miscalculated and ended up with you.”

“Miscalculated? There wasn’t a single town or even a house near that base. How did he end up there?” Bucky asked, before something seemed to dawn on him. “Oh! The cookies!”

“Cookies?” Steve asked, eyebrow raised.

“He turned our hard tack into cookies. If he can do that, who know what other funky stuff he can do.”

“He shouldn’t have been doing either of those things,” the woman said as Peter blinked innocently at her. “He knows that he’s supposed to be eating what he’s given and he shouldn’t even know how to use portals yet.”

“He really can do magic?” Steve asked wearily. The woman glanced around the square before looking him straight in the eyes.

“There are many things in this world that I doubt any of you could even begin to comprehend. Peter here, just happens to be one of them,” she said, her words holding more meaning then Steve could understand. “I thank you again for caring for him. It is about time I bring him home now.”

She nodded to them before waving a hand, opening a sparking yellow portal to who knows where. She said something to Peter, that made him blink.

“Bye Seve! Bye Buby!” Peter said, waving his hand enthusiastically. Steve and Bucky waved back distractedly, still eyeing the poral even as the pair stepped through it and it closed behind them.

The square was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

“I’m going to be the first to admit that I have no idea what just happened,” Bucky stated, making Steve shake his head.

“Come on, everyone. Show’s over. We still have jobs to do,” Steve said, trying to get the shocked soldiers moving once again. “You too Buby.”

“Hey!” Bucky protested as Steve stiffened a grin. “That is not my name and you know it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

-VISION- 2015

Vision landed with a sigh outside the Avengers compound. It had been a difficult couple of days for the android. Not just for him, he supposed. Everyone who had been so much as associated with the avengers was having difficulty. He couldn’t take all the spotlight. But he was tired. Not physically of course, but mentally and definitely emotionally. He wondered faintly if it was possible for him to sleep since the thought of a nap sounded heavenly at that moment.

Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try, he phased through the door headed towards his own suite.

“Welcome home Vision,” FRIDAY greeted, lighting up his path even as he cut through different rooms instead of taking the hallway. “How was your trip?”

“Eventful, to say the least,” Vision answered, smiling a bit to himself. The small part of him that used to be JARVIS was always proud of the new AI. When he had first become Vision, he had been worried that the new AI wouldn’t be able to keep up with Mr. Stark’s eccentricities. But FRIDAY was doing a wonderful job, exceeding Vision’s expectations at every turn.

“Mr. Parker said much the same,” FRIDAY replied. Vision paused while crossing diagonally through the hallway.

“Parker?” Vision asked.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, alias Spider-man. Mr. Stark gave him a temporary Avengers status which comes with clearance to stay in the compound.”

“He is here?”

“Yes. He arrived approximately eight hours ago and has been sleeping in an empty guest suite ever since.”

Vision frowned, having trouble getting the numbers to add up. He was fairly certain this had nothing to do with his math skills.

“The confrontation ended twelve hours ago. There is no plane on Earth capable of going from Germany to New York in four hours,” Vision said carefully. “How did he arrive?”

“He very politely knocked on the front door and asked to be let in. He explained that he hadn’t wanted to stay in Germany in case he were to be arrested and his guardian didn’t expect him home yet,” FRIDAY explained, sounding fairly happy with the boy’s manners. “So I let him in and escorted him to a free room he can use until told otherwise.”

“Can you lead me there as well?” Vision asked, deciding the most likely to fail nap could wait.

“Do you wish to go straight there or take the more scenic route?”

“Scenic is fine. I do not wish to startle him upon arrival.”

“Very well,” the ceiling lights lit up the hallway, leading him down it in a more traditional manor. “According to his vitals he should be waking soon. If not when you arrive, then very shortly after.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“My pleasure.”

Vision followed the lights, no longer phasing through walls so to give the kid a chance to wake up. Upon arrival, he knocked on the door before FRIDAY deemed it necessary to open it for him.

As the lights turned on, a pair of brown eyes blinked at him sleepily, half hidden behind the chaotic curls of his bed head. Vision blinked back. He could have sworn his eyes were a bright green before the lights turned on.

“Mr. Vision?” Peter questioned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“I could be asking you the same thing,” Vision said, noting the kid was still in his Spider-man outfit as he sat up. He figured it was because he didn’t have anything else. “You’re at the Avenger’s compound. And please, just call me Vision.”

“Why am I…” he paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. They dangled inches above the floor, more a testament to the height of the bed than the boy’s lack of it. “Oh yeah, Germany! I didn’t want the cops to arrest me so I came here.”

“How did you get here exactly?” Vision asked.

“I...um...walked,” Peter said after a long pause.

“From Germany?” Vision questioned, a single eyebrow raised.

“Well no. I hitched a ride from there to New York. Then I walked when I was close enough,” he explained, feet swinging lightly above the floor. He looked very much like a child.

“And how did you do all that in the matter of four hours?”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Peter muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “It felt like a lot longer than four hours.”

“FRIDAY said you’ve been here for eight hours already. Germany was twelve hours ago. Math dictates that your travel time was four hours.”

“Maybe the time zones messed things up?”

“I do not believe that is how time zones work.”

“They don’t?” Peter blinked innocently at Vision. The android had a feeling the boy knew exactly how childlike he looked at the moment and was using it to his advantage.

Vision sighed, motioning for the kid to follow him.

“Come along.”

Peter tilted his head but hopped off the bed regardless.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, trotting behind Vision as the android made his way through the hallway once more.

“First, we should find you some clothes that do not give away your hero identity so quickly,” Vision pointed out. Peter looked down as if he had forgotten he was wearing the suit. “We may be the only ones here at the moment, but that will not be true for long.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.”

“Second, I’d imagine you are hungry.”

“Oh definitely,” Peter said with a smile. “I’d, like, kill for a sandwich right now. I mean, not literally. I’m a hero, killing is kind of counterproductive, right? Especially over a sandwich. But, well, I am quite hungry.”

“I’m sure we can find something to eat in this place,” Vision said, hiding a smile. They walked in silence for a while, the teen occasionally stealing glances at Vision but not being as stealthy as he thought.

“Sooo...you’re not going to ask more about how I got to the compound?” Peter asked eventually. He looked more curious than worried.

“No, I don't believe I will.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not a threat,” Vision explained. When Peter frowned, he continued. “FRIDAY wouldn’t have let you in if you were an impostor and you would not have slept through the eight hours you were here alone if you were a spy. Therefore, since you are not a threat, your means of transportation are, as one would say, out of my pay grade.”

“Does Mr. Stark pay you?” Peter asked.

“Technically no,” Vision answered. “I do still have access to his accounts if I so need them.”

“Does he know you still have his account numbers?” 

“No idea. Never felt the need to ask,” Vision stated. Peter laughed happily, making Vision smile a little. He was starting to like this small human, transportation anomalies aside. He hoped Stark kept him around. He had a feeling the boy could bring a little light to their darkening job. Which was something he felt his fellow heroes would need.

Chapter Text

-THE ANCIENT ONE- 1957

The Ancient One sat silently at the front of the room, her meditating students mimicking her as they attempted to follow her lead. Judging by the occasional shuffling of cloth among them, some were doing better than others.

The stillness of the room made it easy to pick up the quiet footsteps as a small body padded their way towards her. Her lips twitched upwards as the child climbed into her lap and wrapped his short arms around her torso.

It had been almost seventy years since she agreed to take Peter in. She had grown quite fond of the boy during that time, more so than she thought she would, given the circumstances. She wasn’t his parent, nor did she pretend to be. She was his guardian and teacher, that was all. But that didn’t seem to stop him from giving her the biggest smiles or seeking comfort from her when he was upset.

Today seemed to be one of the latter instances, judging by the faint sniffling coming from the face hidden against her robes.

“Class dismissed,” The Ancient One said quietly. As the students began to file out of the room, she wrapped her arms around Peter and began rubbing circles into his back.

She let Peter cry, not worried about the growing tear stains he was leaving on her robes. Sometimes people needed to cry and she wasn’t going to make him stop simply to save a bit of fabric from having to go through the wash.

It was a while before his tears finally slowed, leaving the boy hiccupping in her lap.

“Are you feeling better? She asked gently. Peter looked up at her, his bright green eyes still shinning with tears. He nodded, whipping his eyes on his sleeve before cuddling back against her. He was still upset about something, but the crying seemed to have helped a little at least. “Do you want to tell me what this was about?”

“Tara’s having a baby,” Peter mumbled after a pause.

“That she is,” the Ancient One said simply. “What is so sad about that?”

Peter didn’t answer, seeming to be having trouble figuring out what to say. So the Ancient One gave him a little help.

“Are you upset that she’s going to be leaving for a while?” She asked.

“A little.”

“But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?” She said. She had the feeling she knew what the problem was but wanted him to say it himself.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

 Peter paused again before answering, choosing his words carefully once he did.

“Tara’s having a baby,” he said slowly. “But Tara is the baby.”

“You remember when she was born,” she stated, not even trying to phrase it as a question. It wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter had been well into his toddler years when Tara was born a little over twenty years ago.

“She was tiny. I got to hold her,” Peter said, fiddling with a bit of string on her robes. “Then she got bigger and we got to play together. But she kept getting bigger. Now she’s an adult like everyone else. And she’s going to have a baby like her mom did.”

“Everyone grows up,” the Ancient One said slowly, combing her finger through his curly hair. She had known this conversation would happen someday soon, though that knowledge didn’t make this any easier.

“I don’t. I’m not growing. Not like Tara did. I’m still small. Why am I still small if Tara’s already big?”

“You and Tara are very different. You do grow, just at a slower pace than everyone at the temple,” she said. Peter looked at her, his eyes wide as he tried to understand what she meant. “For every year of growth Tara experienced, it takes you ten. That is why even though Tara was born much later than you, you’re still very much a child while she is not.”

“That’s not fair!” Peter exclaimed. He already had tears collecting in his eyes again.

“No, it is not,” She agreed, using the corner of her sleeve to wipe his eyes clean.

“Why am I so different?”

“Because you are not human,” the Ancient One answered. Peter’s eyes shot wide once again, looking like he was waiting for her to admit she was joking. She almost wished she could. She hated the devastated expression that slowly creeping onto his face the longer she didn’t take back her words.

“Not…human?” Peter’s voice sounded so fragile.

“Not entirely,” she answered, shifting him so she could see his face. “Only one of your parents was human. The other was something else entirely.”

“I have parents?”

“Everyone has to come from somewhere, Peter,” she said gently, careful about keeping the emptions off her face. No child should have to ask something like that but now wasn’t really the time for such things. “You have parents, two people who came together and created you. One, from what I understand, lived and died a natural, human life. The other is what most would refer to as a god.”

“A god?”

“I doubt that’s what they normally call themselves, but I haven’t exactly interacted with him enough to ask,” The Ancient One said. “I only met him once. When he gave me you.”

“Who is he?” Peter asked, his voice little more than a whisper. “Why did he leave me here? Didn’t he want me?”

The Ancient One sighed, silently cursing the god for leaving him here and making the boy feel so alone. She moved Peter onto the floor in front of her so she could see him properly.

“Your father’s name is Loki. He’s mentioned quite a bit in those Nordic stories you have me read you, if you recall,” she said. Peter nodded. “He’s known for causing mischief and chaos through the uses of shapeshifting and various other magics. Something you seem to have inherited from him already.”

She gave him an amused grin as Peter smiled sheepishly back.

“Unfortunately, I do not know much more than that,” the Ancient One said.

Before Peter could even look upset by this, she opened up a small portal into her quarters to fetch a familiar green and gold scroll with the red and blue leather cord wrapped around it.

“But this should hold the answers you seek,” she said, closing the portal and offering the scroll to Peter.

“What is it?” Peter asked, taking the scroll almost reverently.

“It is a scroll given to me by Loki, made specifically for you. To open it you only need to speak your full name and ask what you wish to know.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, it is.” The Ancient One climbed to her feet, ruffling the boy’s hair as she went. “I shall take my leave now. Your father made it quite clear that the contents of that scroll is meant for your eyes only and I will respect that, at the very least.”

“Can I talk to you about it later?” He asked, his eyes finally leaving the scroll to follow her.

“Of course,” She said, smiling down at him. “I’m sure you will have no trouble finding me when you’re ready.”

With a nod, the Ancient one left the room. She lingered just outside the door a moment to hear Peter start speaking to the scroll.

“My name is Peter and- wait no. Let me try again. My name is Peter Bell Lokison and I…” Peter paused for a long moment before continuing even quieter. “And I want to know what I am.”

Sadness pinged in her chest to those words as a bright green light that shined through the room. She turned away, continuing down the hall. There wasn’t much she could do for him now, so she left him in the hands of his father via that scroll. She sincerely hoped it would answer his questions and give him some peace of mind, not make it worse.

But all she could do right now was wait until he was done. Maybe make sure there was something sweet waiting for him when he came looking for her.

-TONY- 2015

Tony grumbled to himself as he limped down the hallway towards the kitchen. He shouldn't be out of the medical ward yet, he was pretty sure. His fight with Cap had really messed him up. But he just couldn’t sit still any longer. He needed a distraction. Plus, what the doctors didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Well, they'd probably find out soon but by then he'd be in his lab, behind three high security lock doors that they didn't have the clearance to pass. The perks of owning the building and all that.

But first, he needed a sandwich.

He paused just outside the kitchen, noticing voices coming from inside. As far as he knew, Vision should be the only one here so either he's started talking to himself or there was someone else in the compound.

“And he hit me with a plane, can you believe that?” someone said, their voice muffled by what he assumed was food in their mouth.

“I don’t remember you getting hit by a plane yesterday but I was fairly distracted at the time,” Vision stated.

"No, I was definitely hit by a plane. Which is one of the reasons why planes are the worst," they continued. "Seriously, like they're on my stuff-I-hate list now. Right between hot weather and public transportation."

"I assume those are fairly high on that list?" Vision's voice asked, sounding amused.

"Oh yeah. Really high. Can't get much higher actually."

"Alright," Tony stated, having enough. "Vision, what did I say about throwing parties at the compound?"

"To make sure you're invited," Vision replied without missing a beat. He was currently standing at the stove, grilling up a fairly large stack of sandwiches. He was also wearing an apron that said ‘an apron is just a cape on backwards.’ Tony wasn’t sure where he got that from.

"Exactly, so what is this?" Tony asked, snagging a sandwich.

"It would be rude not to feed our guest," Vision said simply, motioning the spatula behind him. Tony followed it to see Peter sitting at the island with what remained of his own sandwich. He had on a tee-shirt that was obviously too big for him saying ‘American as Fuck’ that Tony vaguely remembered giving Cap last December as a joke and some pants that were rolled up to his ankles. Peter waved.

"And what's the kid doing here?" Tony asked before taking a bite. Apparently, it was grilled cheese.

"I have a name," Peter pouted.

"Peter didn't want to get arrested so he slipped away and came here."

"Does Happy know you left without him?" Tony asked with a raised eyebrow. The kid stared back blankly.

"He was supposed to know?"

"FRIDAY, message Happy and tell him I have the kid so he can stop panicking and to get his ass back to New York."

"Right away boss."

"I swear you're more trouble than you're worth," Tony said, shaking his head. “Where’s your suit?”

Peter pointed at a messenger bag sitting on the counter next to him as he took another bite of his grilled cheese.

“Did it work well for the fight?” Tony asked. Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, it did. It’s my design. Any damage?”

“No?" Peter answered with his mouth full.

"Did anyone teach you manners growing up? Come on, talking with your mouth full-"

"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but the medical staff have noticed your early departure and are starting their search," FRIDAY chimed in.

"Shit," Tony cursed in response. He hurriedly grabbed a few more sandwiches and motioned for the bag. "Suit. Now."

"I don't get to keep it?" Peter asked, his puppy eyes going strong. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Of course you do. But I made that thing in about five hours. It needs some tweaks. I'm going to the lab anyways, I might as well do it now," Tony explained. "Now pass it before the docs show up to drag me back to a hospital bed." 

Peter passed him the bag, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Can I help you work on it?"

"Yeah sure. Whatever. I have to go. I swear I hear MDs coming down the hallway." Tony darted towards the door, stopping once to peek back at the two still in the kitchen. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Got it?"

Peter flashed a thumbs up as Vision nodded and flipped a sandwich.

-

A half hour later, Tony had long since taken refuge in his lab and finished his pilfered sandwiches. He was currently elbow deep into the suits code, trying to fix a glitch he noticed with the eyeglasses. They weren’t adjusting as quickly as they should. If the kid had sensory problems, they needed to work properly. Even if he didn’t, it still needed to be perfect. Tony would have nothing less.

He was thinking about putting a small AI in the suit for the kid. Just to help later on after he learned his limits and all that jazz. It would definitely assist with the higher functions that he will no doubt go overboard adding in.

“What yah doing?”

Tony about jumped out of his skin at the voice. He spun around to see Peter grinning behind him. There was no doubt the kid knew what he did.

“What are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?” Tony complained, just making the kid grin more.

“I don’t think you’d still be Iron-man if a small scare like that would give you a heart attack,” he answered cheekily. He hopped onto a spare stool to look at what Tony was doing.

"Yeah, sure. Laugh it up,” Tony muttered, turning back to the code in front of him. “How’d you get down here anyways?”

“Vision. You said I could help so he let me in,” he answered.

“He didn’t let the doctors in, did he?”

“We never saw you, remember?” Peter said.

“Good, that’s the right answer,” Tony said.

“So, why is my suit all plugged into your computer?”

“I’m transferring data from the fight and fixing any coding problems that pop up.”

“Find anything?”

“Of course. Science is trial and error after all. Nothing is perfect,” Tony said, scanning through the code again. He pointed at the kid, without looking up. “That doesn’t leave this lab. As far as the rest of the world knows, I'm incapable of failure.”

“Noted,” Peter said. “Anything I can help with?”

Tony thought for a moment before nodding and turning towards the kid.

“Actually yes. Digital feedback only goes so far. As the wearer of the suit, your personal feedback would help a lot.”

“Like, just things I noticed about the suit?”

“Exactly.”

“The eye goggle things seemed to lag a bit when I switched between focus points,” Peter mentioned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Oh and one time it didn’t switch at all. But that was after the giant guy hit me with the plane so I don’t think it was entirely the suit’s fault.”

“I noticed the lag,” Tony stated. “Not the glitch though. I definitely didn’t notice you get hit by a plane.”

“Pretty sure I did.”

“Anyways, that sounds like a wire got knocked loose or something.”

Tony swiped the coding away, detaching the mask from the computer to get a closer look. When he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, he turned to his virtual assistant.

“FRIDAY, run a scan of the mask to see if anything deviates from the original designs.”

“Yes boss,” FRIDAY chimed in. Tony didn’t even need to wait a minute before a holographic of the mask’s wire system appeared in front of him, overlapped with that of its original design. Tony saw the difference immediately.

“Damn it, that left eye lens is all but detached again. I should have known that was the problem,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll have to replace the whole system with something a lot sturdier.”

“How do you do that?” Peter asked. Tony blinked at him, almost forgetting the kid was there.

“The new system’s going to be 3D printed once I know what is needed, then FRIDAY will be in charge of placing it. But first, I'm going to have to remove it manually,” he explained, already pulling some of his smaller tools out of the workbench. 

“Cool. Can I help?”

“Not with this kid. If it’s not removed correctly, it will ruin everything in the mask and I’ll have to start completely from scratch. Don’t want that so I’m just doing it myself,” Tony explained. He glanced at the kid, catching him deflate a little. With a shake of his head, he passed the kid a tablet. “Here, just jot down what you remember being off and I’ll go through it later.” 

Peter took the tablet with a nod, allowing Tony to get back to his own project. He reached for one of the smaller screwdrivers only to find the entire set missing.

“Damn it,” Tony muttered, searching the desk. He knew he took them out.

“What did you lose?” Peter asked, looking over the tablet.

“Nothing, I felt like taking a closer look at the cement,” Tony said dryly from under his desk.

“Are you looking for the screwdrivers right there?” Peter asked. Tony looked back at him to see the kid pointing right where Tony had first looked. Lo and behold, there they were.

“What the-”

“I think you need glasses.”

“No I don't, shut up.” Tony grabbed the screwdriver he wanted before it disappeared again.

The two worked in silence for a while as he picked apart the eyeglasses. He went to grab a pair of needle nose pliers only to find they were missing too.

“It was right there,” he muttered to himself, searching his workplace yet again.

“What did you lose this time?” Peter asked, looking smug.

“None of your business.”

“Do you need help finding it?”

“Don’t you have a suit report you’re supposed to be writing?” Tony shot back.

“Yeah, but this is funnier.”

“Brat,” Tony muttered, searching in the drawers yet again. It wasn’t there.

About a minute of quiet swearing later, Peter spoke up again.

“If you’re looking for the pliers, they’re right there,” Peter said, indicating the desk. “Right where you left them.”

“I looked there!” Tony exclaimed, finding the pliers exactly where Peter said they were. “I swear I looked!” 

“Are you sure you don’t need glasses?”

“Glasses won’t help my tools to stop disappearing on me,” Tony grumbled, snatching the pliers off the table.

“Maybe a blind stick then?”

“Watch it, kid, or I'm redacting your internship.” Tony waved the pliers threateningly to which Peter only smirked.

“You mean my fake internship?”

“It will be a fake ex-internship pretty damn soon.”

Peter laughed lightly but turned back to the tablet nonetheless. There was about ten minutes of quiet tinkering that Tony enjoyed immensely before he once again found his needed tool missing.

“What the hell!” 

Tony glared indignantly at the empty spot his screwdriver was supposed to be. He wondered if he should give up for today when he heard muffled laughter come from the only other person in the room. He glared at the kid currently hiding behind the tablet. 

“You’re doing this, aren’t you?”

Peter blinked over the tablet.

“Me? But I’m all the way over here. How can I be making your tools disappear?” Peter asked, sounding much too innocent to not be involved.

“I don’t know, but you’re doing it!” Tony pointed an accusing finger at the kid. “My tools never disappear like this until now.”

“Maybe you just forgot where you put them,” Peter said.

“Oh, so now I’m senile and blind?”

“You said it, not me.”

“Don’t make me kick you out.” Tony shook a finger threateningly at the kid.

“Of the room or the compound?” Peter said with a smirk.

“I’ll make it both if you don’t watch it.”

“But none of your tools have even moved.” Peter motioned towards the desk again. Tony groaned upon seeing every tool still where he left it, including the one he was looking for.

Tony snatched it up, using it to point at the kid instead of his finger.

“I’m watching you.”

“A blind man is watching me. I’m so concerned,” Peter said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

“You weren’t this snarky when I first met you. What happened?”

“Starstruck can only last so long,” Peter said, looking at his tablet dismissively.

“Wish it lasted a little longer,” Tony muttered, turning back to the task at hand.

Over the next few hours that the two worked, Tony’s tools disappeared three more times. Each time Tony was frustrated while Peter was far too amused for his own good. By the end Tony was certain the little spiderling had been involved somehow, but was still no closer to actually proving it.

If he didn’t know any better, Tony would think it was magic.

Chapter Text

-PETER-1969

“I am Peter Bell Lokison and I want answers.”

A familiar green and gold scroll unfurled, bathing Peter’s bedroom in a bright green light.

Peter grinned as he blinked away the spots in his vision, ignoring the change in scenery that always came with opening the scroll. The small, intricately decorated sitting room wasn’t anything new.

He immediately turned his attention towards the two ornate chairs in the center of the room, one of which was already occupied by a man lounging in it like it was his personal throne.

The man’s piercing green eyes turned towards Peter as he bounced into the unoccupied chair, too excited to keep still.

“Hello Peter,” The man said smoothly. “You have questi-“

“People are on the moon!” Peter interrupted. “The moon! Everyone got to watch it on television and everything! I snuck over to the New York Sanctum and got to see it myself. It was amazing!”

“That wasn’t a question,” he said in response.

“I know. But I wanted to share it with you.”

“I feel like I must remind you that-“

“You’re just an illusion made by my father to answer my questions, I know,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve told me a million times by now. Sometimes I just want to tell you stuff. You can’t blame me for that.”

“Do you have a question?” the illusion Loki asked, making Peter groan.

“Fine, I’ll ask a question. I was going to anyway,” Peter said, slightly sulking. “Do you think I can ever go to the moon?”

“I do not know. The answer was never placed in my scroll.”

“Can’t you just think for yourself?” Peter asked, getting an annoyed huff from the illusion.

Peter grinned, taking any show of emotion from the him as a success. Yes, he was a fake person, specifically a fake version of his father, but sometimes there were these little signs of emotions that would make him look almost real. It was one of Peter’s favorite pass time to make him do so since it gave Peter a little glimpse of what his father must be like.

“No, I was not designed to. I only know what was placed in my scroll.”

“It would be pretty easy to get there. I’d just open a portal up to the moon and climb right through,” Peter said, sprawling across the chair in thought. “But the astronauts I saw on tv were wearing these special suits because there was no air or something. I’m not sure how I would be able to do that with magic.”

“Do you have a question?”

“Is there a way to make a working space suit like that with magic?”

“I do not know. That answer was never placed in my scroll.”

“Of course, it wasn’t,” Peter groaned in annoyance. “But you’re a really powerful magic user, right?”

“Yes, the real Loki is very knowledgeable about magic. I, however, am only an illusion. I do not have his knowledge,” The Illusion Loki said.

“So, I’d have to talk to him if I want to know what you don’t?” Peter said, looking back at the illusion across the way. “So how do I meet him?”

“You don’t.”

“Why not?” Peter asked with a frown.

“He is not of this Earth. There is no way that you can get to where he is.”

“That’s stupid,” Peter said, slumping in the chair. “I want to meet him. He’s my father. I should be able to at least meet him. I have questions.”

“I am here to answer your questions.”

“Not the ones I have. Not anymore,” Peter said pouting in silence. “Will I be able to meet him? The real Loki?”

“No,” the illusion answered.

“Again, why not?”

“You cannot get where he is,” the illusion repeated.

“You said that,” Peter grumbled. “But what if I could. Or if he came here. Would I be able to meet him then?”

“No,” he said. “You will not meet him.”

“Why. Not.”

“Because he doesn’t want to meet you,” the illusion said. He leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes with Peter’s matching ones. “You age at a human rate. He does not. Meeting him would only remind him of this. Nothing more. He will not want to meet you.”

“But I don’t age like a human! I’ve already lived longer than a lot of them and I’m still a child! If I could just meet him, I can show him and-“

“You cannot meet him.”

“So you’ve said.” Peter sunk in his chair, looking away from the illusion.

His excitement of the moon landing was now long gone, leaving only a sad frustration at the illusion’s words. For over a decade, this scroll had been enough for him. Sure, it wasn’t his father, but it, at the very least, showed him what the man looked and sounded like. It answered all his questions about his heritage and why he was sent away.

But Peter was slowly finding that it was no longer enough for him. He was coming up with more questions than the scroll was made to answer. Even the little bit of human movement the illusion exhibited wasn’t enough to hide he wasn’t real.

“I’m going to meet him,” Peter said, getting up from the chair as he came to a decision. “I don’t know how, or even when. But I will find him and make him answer all the questions you can’t. After all, I have a lot more time to look than he thinks I do.”

“Do you have a question?”

“No, I have no more questions.”

The illusion Loki nodded as the room faded back to his bedroom. With a sigh, Peter flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he twisted a finger in the braided leather bracelet he had on his wrist.

“I will find you,” Peter whispered, more to himself than anyone else. “Whether you want me to or not.”

-NATASHA- 2015

“We need to talk,” Natasha said upon entering the compound. It was a few months after the Germany issue and Tony had been blatantly avoiding her attempts to contact him. It was time to take matters into her own hands. She really didn’t like being ignored.

“I thought I had FRIDAY revoke your clearance,” Tony replied, not looking up from his laptop. He was sitting in one of the common living rooms scattered around the building, working on some sort of coding project. The project wasn’t unusual from what she could see. The fact he wasn’t at his lab desktop, was

“Do you really think that would stop me?” Nat snapped the Tony’s laptop shut, almost catching the man’s fingers in between. He frowned at her.

“I was working on that.”

“And now you’re not,” Nat said simply. “We’re talking.”

“About what exactly? I didn’t think we had anything to talk about after you stabbed us in the back.” Tony crossed his arms. “Who says you're not here to do it again?”

“Don’t be dramatic. Do I look like I’m armed?”

“I’ve seen you pull a minimum of three large knives out of a skin tight leather suit. I’m certain you could fit infinitely more in the ensemble you’re wearing today,” Tony said, motioning towards the t-shirt and jeans she had on.

“We need to talk about your kid.”

“Sorry? Last time I checked I didn't have one of those.”

Before either of them could continue, a teen with messy brown hair wandered into the common room. His attention was completely on the tablet in his hands even as he hopped over the back of an empty sofa and took a seat in the center.

“Vision told me to tell you lunch will be ready in ten minutes,” the kid said, flipping through something on the tablet.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Tony who already had his hands up defensively.

“That’s not mine. He’s an intern,” Tony stated. The kid blinked up at them, finally noticing there was someone else in the room.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he stuttered out, looking towards Tony for help.

“Ignore her, kid. She was just leaving.” Tony said, waving the kid’s concern away. When he looked hesitant Tony sighed. “Happy’s taking you home in an hour, yeah? If you don’t have those calculations done by then you’ll have to start all over next weekend.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” He immediately focused back on the tablet like his focus was never broken.

“Care to explain why you have a stark intern at the Avenger’s compound?” Natasha asked, giving Tony a threatening look he didn’t seem very threatened by.

“Vision requested it actually. He met the kid a couple months ago and apparently like him enough to -”

“He’s the spider-man isn’t he.” Natasha didn’t even bother making it sound like a question.

“What? That’s insane. Why would you even think-” Tony stopped when Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Look, he’s good at what he does.”

“He’s a kid, Tony. A literal child!”

“I know he looks young but-”

“You really brought a child to Germany to fight your battles for you,” Nat accused. “I knew he was young but this is insane.”

“He was already doing the vigilante thing before I found him.” Tony waved a hand dismissively that Nat didn’t appreciate. “At least this way I can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s better equipped.”

“You made him a suit,” she said flatly, not believing what she was hearing.

“A very safe suit. A lot safer than the sweats and goggles he was using before.”

“You’re enabling him.”

“I’m making sure he doesn’t get himself killed doing what he would be doing anyways,” Tony explained. She could tell there was no changing his mind on this.

“For fuck’s sake,” Natasha swore in Russian. She would have continued but was interrupted again.

“Language,” the kid pipped up, still focused on the tablet. “Little ears present.”

Tony and Natasha blinked at him, forgetting the kid was still there.

“Little ears?” Natasha questioned.

“FRIDAY,” he said without missing a beat. “She’s only like a year old or something.”

“Can you please speak English?” Tony asked, having taken advantage of Natasha’s distraction to open his laptop once again. “I don’t speak Russian. Didn’t even know Pete spoke Russian but hey, learn something new every day.”

Natasha stared at the kid for a long moment. She hadn’t realized she hadn’t switched back to English. That…wasn’t something that happened very often. In fact she made a point to insure it never happened since it could mean life or death in her line of work. But this boy, this Pete, had somehow caught her off guard.

His Russian had been perfect, not a single foreign accent to be found. It had thrown her off.

Peter stared at her with wide eyes as she narrowed hers. That was an expression of a kid who got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“How do you know Russian?” Natasha asked slowly. “It’s a difficult language to master, especially for English speakers.”

“Kids learn foreign languages faster than adults,” He answered, fingers fidgeting on the tablet.

“And when did you learn it?”

“Oh why look at the time!” Peter said, looking at his empty wrist as he climbed off the sofa. “It must be flying by. Vision should have lunch done by now, surely. I’ll go check!”

Natasha tried to catch him by the collar but he artfully dodged her attempt and was halfway down the hallway before she could try a second time.

“Slippery little shit,” She muttered, watching him disappear towards the kitchen.

“Well he does have this neat little power that tells him when he’s in danger,” Tony pipped up. Natasha turned her suspicious glair back on him as he typed away on his laptop once again. “I guess you were tipping off those danger signals of his. You do have this really intense glair that all but promises immense pain. I have the distinct feeling you’re doing it right now, in fact.”

“You can’t keep him,” Natasha said.

“Maybe you can help me see where in the contract that it says you have to approve my choice of Avenger interns. Was that in the fine print? I bet it was in the fine print,” Tony said. Nat was really starting to have enough of his snark.

“He barely looks fourteen. People can’t get a regular job at fourteen let alone a dangerous superhero one.”

“He’s fifteen and that’s why he’s an intern, not an actual Avenger,” Tony said. “This way he gets all the experience but doesn’t end up contractually obligated to fight an alien invasion.”

“Experience like Germany?”

“Hey, no one was supposed to be fighting all out during that. Hell, we weren’t even supposed to be fighting at all. The kid was safe,” Tony said, finally stopping his typing to look at Nat over his computer screen. She glared back at him.

“What did you expect to happen, Tony? You and Cap just standing there measuring dicks until one of you decided to stand down?”

“That would have been horribly inappropriate with the number of women and children present.”

“Which brings us back to Peter,” Nat said, crossing her arms.

“What were you even here to complain about anyways?” Tony said, waving a hand dismissively. “You know, before you had a conniption about the fact he’s only fifteen and can speak Russian better than you.”

“He never signed the accords,” Natasha said, ignoring the jibe.

“Oh I see, you’re here as the counsel’s messenger pigeon.”

“No, I’m here as a friend.”

“Were you being a friend when you let Cap leave? Because friends don’t repeatedly shoot friends with tasers like you did everyone’s favorite king of Wakanda,” Tony said, shutting the laptop on his own. “As for Pete, he’s only fifteen. He’s not signing anything until he can do so as an adult. Making a minor sign a contract just voids it out anyways.”

“Look, at this point, I don’t even care if he signs or not. He was speaking Russian, Tony. perfect Russian. No one can speak Russian like that unless they either grew up there or had very extensive training.”

“You think he’s a spy,” Tony said flatly, raising an eyebrow. “Him. A hyper, fifteen-year-old who can’t even keep a straight face during poker.”

“I was younger than him during my first job,” Nat said. “And you play poker with him?”

“Saturday night has always been poker night. He interns here all weekend so we’ve been including him even though he’s shit at it. I mean he won this week but I’m pretty sure Vision was helping him. Somehow.” Tony shrugged dismissively. “He’s not a spy.”

“That’s what a spy would want you to think,” Natasha said, frowning as Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you, there’s no better way of making people think you’re not a spy then to appear incapable of it.”

“Stop accusing my intern of spying on me. If he wanted to steal shit he would have finished that long ago. Hell, he was here for eight hours alone right after the Germany incident. You know what he did? Sleep. Just sleep.”

“So? That just means he’s playing the long game. Maybe what he’s looking for isn’t part of your compound.”

“Alright, well I’m certainly done with this conversation,” Tony said as he tucked his laptop under his arm and climbed to his feet. “As nice as I didn’t find it talking with you again, I must be going. Lunch calls.”

“I’m telling you, keeping him around is going to be nothing but trouble,” Nat tried to warn. Tony waved dismissively as he headed towards the kitchen as well.

“Bye Nat. I trust you can see yourself out. Better yet, FRIDAY, make sure she leaves.”

“Yes boss,” the Ai said cheerfully. “Miss Romanoff, do you need me to light the way?”

“That’s not necessary,” Natasha said curtly.

She walked out of the hallway in silence, the lights on the ceiling leading the way regardless.

“Hey FRIDAY,” Natasha called, knowing the AI was still listening. “Do you speak Russian?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Though I was not familiar with the swear words you used. Maybe on your next visit you can introduce me to some more.”

“And now I’ve taught a robot to swear,” Nat mumbled to himself. “Just the thing I needed for my resume.”

Chapter Text

LOKI-1990

Loki studied the yellowed parchment in front of him, intent on learning its contents. He believed it was some sort of ancient magic formula supposed to be forgotten long ago, but it was written in an equally old language he only vaguely knew. It would take him days to finish translating it and find out what it was about. Time well spent, if his assumption was correct.

Unfortunately, his brother did not see it this way.

“Come on, brother!” Thor pleaded, making a nuisance of himself as he pouted at the edge of his table. “Put that rubbish aside for today. It has been far too long since you’ve spent any significant amount of time with me.”

“The last time I accompanied you on one of your misadventures, your idiocy got Mjolnir stolen and I had to come up with an absolute train wreck of a scheme to help you retrieve it,” Loki said, not looking away from his work.

“Was that really the last time? That felt like ages ago,” Thor mused. “I quite liked that ‘scheme.’ I made a fantastic bride.”

“You made a dreadful bride. I just happened to be amazing at making all your mistakes sound like good things.”

“Which is what made it such a great adventure! You were able to show off your clever plans and silver tongue, and I got to fight giants in a wedding gown. We must go on more adventures like that.”

“No, we really don’t,” Loki stated dryly. “Which is why I’m not participating in whatever hairbrained idea you have planned for today.”

“It is only a trip to the market, brother,” Thor said. Loki glanced at him, seeing far too much feigned innocence to not be up to something. “That is all.”

“That is never ‘all’ with you,” Loki said, turning back to the scroll. “Leave me be. I wish to be alone.”

Thor’s hand landed in the middle of the parchment blocking his view. Loki squawked in indignation at the rough treatment of such an old scroll.

“I cannot do that. Not today.” Thor had a stubborn look on his face, the one he got when he was dead set on something. Loki could spend the entire day arguing with him about this, but even if he tried, he would still end up spending the entire day with his idiot brother.  And Loki didn’t feel like he had the will to fight him about this all day.

Loki sighed, leaning back in his chair as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Very well, you win,” he said. “But I will not be saving you from the consequences of whatever convoluted idea you’ve come up with this time.”

“What makes you think I’m planning something?” Thor ask, grinning as he dragged his brother out of the chair and started out the door.

“Lying is my specialty, not yours,” Loki said.

“It’s not bad, I swear.” Thor shot him a confidently smug look before continuing down the hall. “But I really do want to go to the market first.”

“As long as whatever it is doesn’t end in me having to act as your bridemaid once again, I do not care what you have in store.”

-

“Why did you drag me out here again?” Loki questioned, casually walking through the busy market place with a cane in hand.

“I wanted to see what the merchants had for sale today.”

“I doubt they are much different than when you went with mother yesterday.”

“They could be different with you present,” Thor said with a shrug. Loki raised an eyebrow, saying nothing until his brother gave him a proper answer. Thor lasted about thirty seconds before sighing in defeat. “You should not be alone today.”

“And what is so special about today that I should not be alone on it?”

“You know very well the answer to that,” Thor said, nodding towards the cane. “You wouldn’t have that out otherwise.”

“I don’t know what you are going on about.” Loki promptly banished the cane back to where he kept it. “The date has nothing to do with my choice of fashion accessories.”

“It’s August 10^th. Peter would be one hundred today.”

“And that matters why?” Loki asked simply.

“Because he is your son,” Thor answered. Loki rolled his eyes.

“He is little more than a human. Or was. It is most likely that he never lived this long.”

“Just because they said he aged at a human rate doesn’t mean he could not live past a human lifetime,” Thor pointed out, studying a nearby magical book stall as if he were actually interested in its contents. “He could yet live.”

“He is dead,” Loki hissed. His hand was already itching to bring back the cane. He almost relented despite fact he would ultimately prove his brother correct.

“Maybe he is not,” Thor said, unfazed. “The least we could do is check-“

“No.”

“But-“

“I said no!” Loki yelled. The market place stilled around them as the people turned to look at them. Loki took a breath to get control of himself. He grabbed his brother’s arm, dragging him away from the crowd and somewhere more secluded.

“If this is what you have planned for today, I’m going to put a stop to it right now,” Loki said in hushed tones once they were away from the crowd, hiding in a nearby alleyway. “We are not going to Midgard, and we are certainly not doing so to ‘visit’ someone you haven’t seen in a century.”

“It’s his birthday. His hundredth, in fact. A fairly large milestone no matter what lifespan he has,” Thor pressed on. “If he lives, I think he deserves to see his family on this day.”

“No,” Loki said again. “I refuse to go only to see an old man where a child should be. I’m not leaving. And neither will you.”

“You cannot tell me I’m not allowed to visit my own nephew.”

“I can certainly tell you that you’re not allowed to visit my son.”

“So, he’s your son when it’s convenient for you.”

“Let me put it in simple terms that even you should be able to understand,” Loki stated, ignoring Thor’s jib. “I don’t want to know his fate. Whatever it was, certainly had to have been better without our involvement. I refuse to get involved now only to find him old or dead. So leave this be.”

“I have sat back for a hundred years letting you dictate your hands-off policy for your child. I can’t just sit back any longer. You might not want to know his fate, but I must.”

Loki grabbed Thor by the collar, dragging the stunned man down a few inches to his level.

“Leave. This. Be.” Loki’s words were harsh and face serious enough to give Thor pause. He knew very well his reasoning was flimsy and selfish, but he just couldn’t have him pursue this. “Just leave it be. Swear to me you will not go to Midgard for this.”

There was a long pause as Thor seemed to take in his expression.

“I swear,” he said in a quiet voice then Loki never thought him possible of speaking in.

“Good,” Loki said, releasing his brother and summoning the cane back in the same motion. He was headed away from Thor before the man could get his bearings. “With that settled, I will be heading back to my studies. Before you ask, no, I do not want your company. I wish to be alone.”

STEVE-2015

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair as his entered the modest living quarters T’challa had given him to use. It had been a long week of breaking out his friends from the Raft and making sure they stayed out, which was only partially successful. The entire experience was something he could only describe as a high-risk preschool field trip. Well, if the trip was illegal and he had coral said preschoolers as they were all being chased by cops. As it was Scott and Clint ended up getting arrested again while on an unsanctioned ice cream run and sent back to the raft. By the time he was convinced Sam and Wanda would stay put long enough for Steve to fetch them again, the two had already weaseled their way out on probation.

Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep during that week. He deserved at least a nap for his troubles.

Steve trudged sluggishly through the livingroom/kitchen space, set on going straight to the bedroom when a small crunch had him spinning towards the kitchen, his weapon aimed towards the sound.

Bright green eyes blinked at him from on top the fridge, where a twelve-year-old boy lounged, finishing off a half-eaten apple. Steve felt a strong sense of daja-vu that he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Pretty jumpy, aren’t you?” The boy asked.

“Who are you? How did you get in my apartment?” Steve demanded, refusing to lower his weapon. He may look like a child but with known shapeshifters in the world, there’s no telling who this could be. The boy took another bite from the apple, barely hiding an amused smirk behind the fruit. “Answer me or I will be forced to take you into custody.”

“Who’s custody? You’re a war criminal,” the boy said, talking around the food in his mouth.

“You’ve broken into a private apartment in a secret country you no doubt illegally entered. Somehow. I’m sure, at the very least, border security would be very interested in your existence.”

“And UN would be interested in both you and the real Wakanda so I think I still have the high ground here,” he said, finally swallowing. “Plus, I’m on your fridge. Can’t get much higher than that.”

“I have a weapon aimed at you,” Steve said flatly. He didn’t like resorting to intimidation tactics but he was in no mood to play games. “Now, let’s try this again. Who are you and why are you here?”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I really should take this more seriously,” he said as he examined his apple as if he still wasn’t very concerned. “It’s just a little hard to when your weapon is a banana.”

Steve looked at his hands, shocked to find he was, in fact, holding a banana instead of the gun he had pulled out of his holster only moments before. He stepped back wearily, worried the boy would try something to take advantage of his surprise. He didn’t move.

“Personally, I’m not a big fan of guns. They’re not very creative. It’s just a cop out really,” he said, barely concerned as Steve searched through his pockets for at least one of his other weapons. All he found was more fruit. “Solving problems by throwing pieces of lead towards it at high intervals? It’s so lazy. And boring. There’s like no way you can truly customize something like that.”

“Who are you?” Steve stressed, getting his attention back from his monologue. The boy grinned.

“You can call me Peter. Peter Bell,” He said. There was a long pause as he seemed to wait for something. When whatever it was didn’t show, he frowned. “You don’t recognize me, do you? That hurts. It really does, Seve.”

“Is that even your name?” Steve asked after a moment, the daja vu bells ringing loud once again. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Most of it,” he said with a shrug. He took one last bite from the apple before making it disappear with a small, green flash of light.

It was a very familiar flash of light. Definitely something he’s seen a child name Peter do before. Peter started grinning again.

“Ah! There’s that light bulb I was hoping for! You do remember me.”

“You’re the kid from the Nazi base,” Steve stated. It wasn’t a question but Peter had already started nodding in response.

“Yup. Long time, no see. What’s it been? Seventy years? Looking pretty good considering you’re supposed to be like ninety or something. I heard some good things about glacier ice helping to stop aging but I didn’t think it would be that impressive.”

“And you should be almost seventy-five by now. How…how are you still a child?” Steve asked once he found his words again. A thought struck him that made his blood run cold. “Hydra took you, because of your abilities. Probably kept you in cryo like they did Bucky. As a backup assassin in case he failed.”

Steve’s speculation was cut short by the over the top laughter coming from over his fridge. Peter was doubled over, laughing to the point of almost falling off the large appliance.

“You could have just said I was wrong,” Steve said flatly, watching the boy try to reign in his laughter. It wasn’t working well.

“Oh man, it was…it was just so funny!” Peter said around his chuckles. “Hydra? Taking me?! Ha! They couldn’t keep me locked up if they tried! I can see that your tired but damn, what an answer!”

Peter devolved into another round of laughter that lasted long enough for Steve to almost get bored.

“How are you here then?” Steve asked, trying to get him back on track. “You had to have gone into cryo or something like that.”

“Nope,” Peter said, wiping his eyes once he’d calmed down. “I took the long way around. Didn’t cheat years like you and Buby. Lived through the whole thing.”

“You’re ten.”

“Correction, I’m the human equivalent of twelve. And a half. The half is very important here.”

“Human equivalent?” Steve parroted.

“I’m not human. Not completely. My guardian told you as much didn’t she? I’m not exactly sure what she said since I didn’t speak English at the time, but I’m pretty sure she told you something like that.” Peter scratched his cheek in thought before shrugging it away. “Long story short, my aging is weird and I’ve got some questions for you before people realize I’m here.”

“Questions about what?” Steve asked suspiciously. People showing up randomly in his apartment to ask him questions has never really sat well with him. Particularly after said person had somehow stolen all his weapons. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry. They’re simple. You see, I’m looking for someone,” Peter started, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees.

“You want my help in find him.”

“Oh hell no. You’d never be able to find the guy. But you know someone who could. And that’s who you can help me find,” Peter said with a smile. “I’m looking for Thor.”

“Thor?”

“That big blond guy that speaks really formal and has a judgey, electric hammer.”

 “I know who Thor is,” Steve said with a sigh. “Why do you want to find him?”

“He’s an alien. He knows alien stuff.” Peter said. Steve gave him a disbelieving look. “Fiiiine, I guess I can spar a few more details. You see my father is from the same realm Thor is. Let’s just say, he went out on a milk run when I was six months old and there must have been dairy shortage or something because he’s been gone ever since.”

“And you want Thor to help you find your father.”

“Precisely.”

“I haven’t heard from Thor in months,” Steve said. “Last I knew, he was living with his girlfriend, Jane Foster.”

“Checked there. They broke up like a month ago. She hasn’t seen him.” Peter sighed, resting his chin in his hands with a small pout. “Thanks anyways. I mean I figured that’s what you would say but I wanted to make sure, yah know.”

There was silence between the two before Peter popped his head up again.

“You don’t happen to have a secret way of contacting him, do you?”

“No. Nothing,” Steve said. Peter dropped his chin back into his hands. “Tony might have a way.”

“He does, but he hasn’t responded to the guy’s messages. I’m sure he will eventually but I’m soooo close! I’ve been working towards this for decades and, I guess I’m getting impatient.”

“How old are you?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Peter said with a small, shit-eating grin just as Steve’s front door was kicked down by T’challa and about a dozen castle guards. Within seconds the fridge was surrounded. Somehow, Peter didn’t look very concerned even with multiple spears pointed at his person.

“Intruder, you are under arrest for illegally entering Wakanda and assaulting one of my personal guests,” T’challa said, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

“Hey, I didn’t even touch capsicle,” Peter said, hands up placidly. “All I did was enter the country and sit on a man’s fridge. That’s it.”

“For which you will be placed in jail for and be questioned about later.”

“Fine, fine, take me away,” Peter stated dramatically. He held out his hands to be cuffed, getting an odd look from everyone present.

“I honestly thought you would put up more of a fight,” T’challa said, his professionalism slipping a bit.

“No need to fight the inevitable.” Peter shrugged as he was pulled down off the fridge by a couple of the taller guards. In no time he was cuffed and being lead out the door. “Bye Seve! Wish I could have stayed longer. We have so much to catch up on. You missed a full seventy years after all. I’ll stop by again when I’ve got more time. See you!”

Steve and T’challa blinked as they watched the way-too-chipper-for-being-under-arrest child get escorted out the door by twelve fully armed guards.

“He’s talking as if he’s barely expecting to be there an hour,” T’challa commented once he was gone.

“He’s an odd boy. I’ve met him before,” Steve said. “Look, he’s not a bad kid, not really. He just wanted to ask me a few questions, that’s all. Please go easy on him.”

“There is no need to worry. The most that will happen is that we will hold him until he tells us how he got in and then send him home after signing some paperwork for secrecy,” T’challa said. “You should go check on your friend, Bucky. He seemed very certain you were in trouble to the point of making me come here personally. Was ranting something about a disappearing fruit basket.”

“That’s where he got the fruit,” Steve muttered to himself. T’challa raised an eyebrow. “It’s nothing. Thanks for letting me know. Is he still in the same room?”

“Shuri threatened to tape him to the bed if he tried to leave it.”

“Smart girl.” Steve started collecting the various fruits still scattered around his feet and putting them in a bag so to carry them all.

“The smartest,” T’challa said with a fond smile.

The two men left the room, waving briefly as they took separate routs down the hallway. It wasn’t long before Steve arrived at the private, hospital like room where Bucky had been recovering after getting the programing removed from his mind. From what Steve was told, he had woken up yesterday and was doing really well considering the invasiveness of the surgery. He would probably be let out within the next day or so but Shuri wanted to make sure he was perfect before letting him out of her care.

Steve peaked in the door to see Bucky sitting tensely on the hospital bed, a basket containing a single pineapple and a collection of different weapons sitting on his lap. His head snapped to the door, his worry fading away even as he frowned at Steve, pointing at what was once his get-well fruit basket Wanda somehow arranged to send him.

“Explain.”

“I’ve got your fruit,” Steve said, holding up the bag as he stepped into the room. “I’ll trade them for my weapons.”

“I’ll give you your weapons if you explain why they kept replacing my fruit,” Bucky said sternly. Steve sighed, setting the bag onto the night stand before sitting down on the side of the bed.

“It’s a…long story.”

“For once, I think we have time,” Bucky said, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Steve smiled back tiredly. “So, do you remember that kid we picked up at the Nazi base?”

-

Several hours and one very long conversation later, Steve had somehow ended up laying down next to Bucky as the other man rehashed what he just learned. It had been a little hard for him to wrap his head around, especially since he hadn’t even known about Thor or Asgasrd before now. So Steve let him talk through it, occasionally humming to show he was listening despite being about two seconds away from sleep. Steve was just so tired and the sound of Bucky’s voice chattering away like old times was quickly lulling him to sleep.

The door slammed open, both stopping Bucky’s words mid rant and startling Steve.

Steve blinked sleepily at the door, eventually making out several palace guards scanning the room intently.

“Apologies,” the head guard said upon noticing both Steve and Bucky’s staring. “You have not seen the child intruder, have you?”

“No, why?” Bucky questioned as Steve got comfy once again. Bucky would take care of it while he covertly stole more of the man’s pillow.

“He’s escaped.”

“How?”

“We have no idea. He was placed in a private, very secure cell with a couple guards standing by and he just disappeared in the very short time no one was looking. The door wasn’t unlocked. There was no windows or escape route. It was just empty, save for this.”

Steve peaked over again to see a monopoly card that read ‘Get out of jail free.’ He smiled a bit as Bucky smirked.

“Kid has a sense of humor,” Bucky mused.

“That is the least of our worries at the moment,” the guard said with a frown. “Please inform us if you see him again.”

“Will do.”

The guards left a moment later, shutting the door behind them. It was silent for several minutes, almost long enough for Steve to fall asleep.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky called, nudging him awake with his shoulder. Steve hummed to show he heard him. “Doesn’t that Peter kid open portals to places?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s probably how he got into your apartment. And escaped jail.”

“Probably.”

“You didn’t tell T’challa or his guards about this, did you?”

Steve paused for a moment, trying to get his tired mind to work for a moment.

“Damn it,” Steve said with a sigh. “Knew I forgot something.”

Chapter Text

THOR-1990

Thor had every intention to keep his promise to his brother. He really did. He wasn’t one to break oaths and it must be important to Loki if he had been upset enough to make a scene in the market.

But then he saw that book.

It was a simple, leather bound instructional tome that explained how to change one’s shape, whether it was to be bigger, smaller, or a completely different species. Thor knew from what little his brother spoke of his magical studies, that though changing things like facial features and hair color was simple, changing your mass or species was difficult and required instruction. Thor doubted Earth had such instruction. Therefore, he would be a horrible uncle if he didn’t gift it to his nephew. It was his birthday after all.

So, he bought the book.

Thor then changed his clothes into something Midgard would not deem as strange before rushing to the Bifrost.

Heimdall stood right where he always did, looking not at all surprised to see the crown prince running towards him like his life depended on it.

“Heimdall! I-“

“-wish to go to Midgard,” Heimdall finished as Thor came to a stop in front of him. “To check on the child?”

“Yes, though he would not be much of a child by now,” Thor answered back.

“I doubt your brother would want you going.”

“He does not need to know I went,” Thor said, ignoring the sting of guilt trying to make itself know.

“Very well,” Heimdall said stepping into position to operate the Bifrost. “It would not be my funeral if he finds out.”

A quick trip across realms followed by a walk through a vaguely familiar town and Thor was standing in front of the very building Loki had given up Peter a century before. The town itself had changed much over the years, but the building looked just the same as he had left it.

He knocked on front door, having enough manners to not barge into a magic practitioner’s home without being invited. Even if he didn’t, doing so tended to be dangerous.

Moments later, the door opened a crack to reveal a young woman peeking out. She was barely into her twenties, probably a new student if her tired, slightly overwhelmed expression told him anything.

“Greetings! I was hoping you would help me find someone,” Thor said happily, startling the woman by the sheer volume.

“I’m sorry, this…this isn’t the place for that,” she stuttered out after a long moment. “I…um, think you’d want the police station down the street.”

“Oh no, I’m certain I am in the right place,” he said with a grin. “He would be a magical individual, probably quite old now but he used to live here some time ago. I was hoping he still did.”

“I suppose I could check for you,” she said with a sigh. “What’s his name?”

“Peter. He would most likely be an old man, a hundred years old in fact.” Thor straightened up in pride for his nephew. The woman stared at him for a long moment before nodding exasperatedly.

“Ok, I’ll, um…show you somewhere you can wait,” she said, opening the door for him to enter. He followed her quietly, taking in the differences between the outside of the building and the inside. He hadn’t seen them last time.

The woman brought him to a sort of waiting room, full of chairs but empty of people.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” she said before disappearing down the hallway.

Thor stood in the room, shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to get rid of some nervous energy. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know Peter from anyone else in this compound. He hadn’t seen the child since he was an infant, therefore he had no idea who that baby had grown up to be.

What was he like? Did he take more after Loki or his mortal father? What type of things did he enjoy? All questions he couldn’t even fathom the answers to.

Suddenly he felt foolish bringing him a gift considering how little he knew him. It was possible Peter didn’t even like magic or had already learned how to shapeshift like this. Maybe he wanted nothing to do with his family. Thor wouldn’t blame him considering he hasn’t exactly been there for his nephew. He really must be a horrible uncle.

Thor was starting to think he shouldn’t have come at all when a child darted into the room, freezing upon seeing it was not empty like he no doubt assumed.

The kid was pretty young, about the age an Asgardian would start basic weapon training with their parents. He was barefoot with a pair of light blue jeans and a gray tee-shirt tucked into his waistband. It had a strange logo with the letter’s NASA underneath. What made the Asgardian pause was the boy’s bright, sky blue hair sticking up everywhere.

The small stare down was broken by a shriek of rage coming from the hallway. The boy took a panicked look out the door before darting behind Thor.

“Hide me! I’m too young to die!” he whispered quickly.

Thor could barely keep a smirk off his face. He had seen and been part of enough mischievous plots to know exactly what was going on.

Several people in matching robes, ran down the hallway, a few stopping in glare into the room. He grinned giving them a little wave to hide his own amusement. Each person that passed by was sporting bright blue or red hair.

“Have you seen a boy run by here?” One of them asked.

“No. I have seen no child has run past these doors,” Thor answered truthfully.

“He couldn’t have gotten far!” They shouted before they all ran off again. It was a long moment before the boy peaked out from behind him.

“They gone?”

“Your work, I presume?” Thor said, far more amused than he should have been. The boy grinned, nodding proudly. “Impressive. More so if you hadn’t gotten caught in it yourself.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” the kid said, stepping back in front of him now. He snapped his fingers, his hair turning from bright blue to a very vibrant red. “I change it up sometimes.”

“Ah, a shapeshifter. I should have known,” Thor said. “I was unaware humans had such abilities.”

“I’m an oddity,” he said with a shrug.

“Did you use magic on their hair as well?”

“Nope,” he said, his smile turning into a trickster’s grin. “They’re all sorcerers in training. So focused on magic they forget things like regular hair dye exist.”

Thor laughed loudly, making the kid laugh with him.

“That is incredibly clever, young man! I am quite impressed,” Thor said happily. “I have not seen such a brilliant hair-based prank since my brother and I were your age.”

“I highly doubt you’ve ever been my age,” the kid said with an amused smirk. “What was the prank?”

“It was my brother’s, honestly. One of my friends had slighted him in some way, I cannot for the life of me remember what it was. But the next morning they woke up to find he had shaved their head during the night.”

“They couldn’t have liked that,” the boy said, eyes almost sparkling with mischief.

“She certainly did not,” Thor answered, sending the kid into a fit of giggles. “I was used as his personal meat-shield for the next week.”

They laughed again for several minutes until the girl from the door peaked into the room, looking very confused. Thor’s laughter calmed upon being reminded why he was there.

“Did you find him?” He asked, smile still spread across his face as the boy tried to stiffen giggles beside him.

“No, there’s no one here matching your description,” she answered.

“I thought that may be the case,” Thor said with a sigh. “I appreciate your assistance regardless.”

The young woman nodded curtly, hesitating in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure of something.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show him out,” The boy said, waving her away.

“I am surprised she trusts you enough for such a task,” Thor commented, watching the women leave without a second thought.

“She’s new. Hasn’t learned who I am yet,” he said with a shrug. He motioned for Thor to follow him out of the room. “Give it time.”

They walked the hallway in silence heading towards the door he had first entered. Thor had first entered. It was a bit disappointing that he had not been able to find his nephew, even if it was somewhat expected. He had really wanted to give him his birthday present, but now it seemed he wouldn’t be able to.

Thor looked at the book for a moment before glancing at the little prankster as the kid lead him through the building. He showed himself to be a shapeshifter. A young one at that. He would certainly get some use out of such a book.

“You have my thanks, little mischief maker.” Thor bowed slightly as the stopped in front of the door. The boy straightened up proudly at the name. “For both your guide work and the entertainment you have supplied this day.”

“It was nothing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “But you’re welcome, I guess.”

“I would like to offer you this, if you think you could find some use for it.” Thor held out the book, making the kid’s eyes shoot wide. “It was supposed to be a gift for a family member of mine that used to live here. Since he is not here, I wondered if you would like it.”

“Is…that a book on advanced shapeshifting?” he asked in awe. “Like a real ‘how to’ book?”

“Yes, it is.” He passed the book to the child who held it reverently like it would disappear if he wasn’t careful. He flipped through it, getting visibly more excited as he scanned through the pages.

“This is amazing! I’ve never seen a book like this before! What language is this? I don’t recognize it.” He paused for a moment, looking at one of its pages a little more closely. “Never mind. I can read it. It doesn’t matter. This is great! I never would have figured this out on my own like I did everything else. Thank you!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Thor said with a smile.

“But why give it to me?” he asked, looking up from the book for the first time since he was given it. “You don’t know me.”

“Tricksters like yourself get a bad reputation,” Thor said after a moment. The boy gave him a questioning look. “They make the world more exciting and unpredictable but it often leads to them being labeled as untrustworthy. It is not an easy path to travel; my brother certainly has had enough difficulty traversing it.”

“What does that have to do with giving me the book?”

“It is unfair. And though I was never an agent of chaos myself, I like to help those that are when I can.”

“So what you’re saying is that I should master this book and use it’s skills for a lot of pranks,” he said, a prankster’s grin making itself known.

“Most certainly,” Thor said with an answering grin.

“I’m going to start right now!” he said, hopping on the balls of his feet for a moment as if to keep himself from darting down the hallway. “Thank you again!”

“You are most welcome,” Thor said with a wave.

The child soon lost his fight with his excitement and took off down the hall at breakneck speeds. Thor smiled, watching the boy go. He reminded him a lot of his brother when they were younger. Always so excited about magic and pranks that he could hardly contain it most days.

It was sad how their father had crushed that.

But there was nothing Thor could do about it now. All he could do was be happy that this boy was able to retain that excitement where his brother had lost it. And hope his nephew had kept that same excitement when he had been young.

Thor froze halfway through the door a thought striking him.

He never asked the kid’s name. He also never gave his. His mother would be appalled at his lack of manner if she ever heard of this. Thor sighed, finally leaving the building. There was nothing to be done about it now. Even if he could catch up to the kid, he was probably lost in the book by now. If Thor knew anything about magic practitioners, there would be no rousting him for hours.

It was best that he just head home himself. If he stayed much longer his brother would find out what he tried to do, and no one wanted that.

BUCKY-2015

It was only the familiar golden sparks that kept him from reacting hostilely to the sudden weight that dropped onto his shoulders.

“Buby! I’ve been betrayed!” Peter whined from his new spot on Bucky’s back. “Betrayed I tell you.”

“Betrayed you say?” Bucky questioned flatly. “How so?”

“Seve told the T’challa I can make portals,” he pouted. “He ruined my fun.”

“He would have told them the first time if he wasn’t so tired. You’re lucky.” Bucky continued on his way down the hallway. He had been summoned by Shuri for a brain check up and had been on his way there before he was interrupted by the child.

“Yeah, but now I had to sign a nondisclosure agreement and they want me to have an escort everywhere so I don’t get into any trouble.”

“Where’s your escort now?”

“You.”

Bucky chuckled briefly at that, glancing over his shoulder at the boy clinging to him like a koala. He looked younger than Bucky thought he would.

“I don’t think I count,” he told the pouting child. “Especially considering this is the first time I’ve seen you since the WWII.”

“Oh yeah, I couldn’t say hi last time I was here.”

“You got arrested. And stole my fruit.”

“That I did,” Peter said with a grin that held no remorse. “So, hi Buby! I’m happy to see you’re still alive. And I like what you did with your hair. It looks better long.”

“Thanks.”

“What happened to your arm?”

“Lost it,” Buck said with a shrug. “Then I had a robot arm but I lost that too.”

“A robot arm?” Peter asked, sounding a lot more interested than Bucky thought he would be. It was just a metal arm after all. “What was it made of? Was it fully operational? If so, how did they attach it to your nerves?”

“I…don’t know the answer to any of that,” Bucky admitted. The boy pouted once again.

“What do you know then?”

“Someone who would know those answers,” He said as he stepped into Shuri’s workshop.

Peter’s eyes went wide as he took in all the different tech in the room. He slid off Bucky’s back and onto the floor to get a better look at it all.

“You’re late,” Shuri said from the other side of the room. She was working on something Bucky didn’t recognize and hadn’t looked up yet.

“Sorry. I was interrupted.”

Shuri looked up now to give Bucky a confused look only to catch sight of the amazed Peter nearby. She blinked.

“Is that the ghostly wizard-type kid that’s been driving my brother insane since he broke into Cap’s apartment a week ago?”

“Yes.”

“Technically the term’s sorcerer,” Peter pipped up, continuing to examining something techy nearby. “Though I always preferred trickster for myself. Did you make all this?”

“Yes. Or at least most of it. Some of it I just improved upon.”

Peter glanced up at Shuri with a wide smile.

“That’s amazing! What does it all do?”

“Whatever I need it to,” she said. “I thought magic people didn’t care for tech.”

“That’s a horribly inaccurate stereotype. Sure, there’s a lot of newer sorcerers that ignore it because magic is a new concept, but I usually break them of that pretty damn quick,” he stated with a shrug. “I personally love it. And your stuff here? It’s amazing! I’ve never seen anything like this before and I’ve been working with Stark for a couple months now.”

Shuri grinned, straightening up ever so slightly at the praise.

“I’m glad to meet someone that appreciates my work,” she said happily. “I have to give this guy a checkup right now, but if you promise not to touch anything, I’ll let you stay.”

“Will you explain what all this stuff does when you’re done with Buby?” Peter asked, looking hopeful.

“Only if you explain how your magic works.”

“Sold!”

Bucky looked between the two kids grinning excitedly at each other, getting a very bad feeling about this.

-

An hour later, Bucky found himself standing in the hallway outside Shuri’s workshop in a kind of stunned silence. Technically he was free to go but he felt guilty for leaving Peter alone in case he really was supposed to be his escort for today. So he stayed, or at least stayed in the hallway since he had no intention of going back in there. His mind was swimming enough already without trying to translate the kids’ strange tech/meme on top of it.

T’challa appeared around the corner, noticing Bucky immediately.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes, did Shuri want to check up on you?” T’challa asked, stopping in front of the soldier. Bucky nodded stiffly. “Is there something the matter? You look a little, strange.”

“I may have made a mistake,” Bucky said after a long pause.

“Mistake? What sort of mistake?” T’challa said, immediately looking on guard.

“I didn’t know-“ Bucky glanced at the workshop’s closed doors, T’challa bursting through them before he could even finish his statement.

Inside were the two kids laughing over some holographic schematic that hadn’t been there before. It was strange device that Bucky didn’t recognize, the only hint to its function being the fact it was labeled “Purple People Yeeter” and had Hulk looking individuals getting chucked out of it at high speeds. Neither of them even noticed T’challa and Bucky were there.

“I didn’t know he liked tech,” Bucky finished, getting T’challa’s now very confused attention back. “I really didn’t know they shared the same internet humor. I…may have made a mistake.”

T’challa’s face blanked as he began to understand the situation Bucky was referring to.

“We are doomed.”

Chapter Text

PETER-2010

“It’s time to head back,” one of the two adults stated. Peter suppressed a groan. It felt like they just got to the Stark Expo. There was so much new tech on display that he hardly felt time passing. His ‘adult supervision’ were far from impressed. Magic practitioners had an annoying habit of ignoring most technological advancements simply because it was from the normal world they left behind. In other words, they thought it was beneath them. But Peter wasn’t like that. He love them both equally, to the point of trying his best to share it with the sorcerers around him. 

Magic was old and structured, with every spell already there with people to teach you how to perform it. You couldn’t really customize a spell itself, but you could combine them in a multitude of different ways to get what you wanted.

Human inventions were new and unbolted down. There were no ready-made structures for these new inventions to be built off of. You could tell ten inventors the same problem and get ten completely different devises to answer it.

He wanted to get both working together one day, he wasn’t sure on what but he’d figure it out. It would be a lot easier to figure out if his adult supervision didn’t want to leave well before the best stuff was being shown. Luckily, Peter had planned ahead.

“But it’s hardly even five o’clock!” Peter’s voice whined from behind him.

He glanced back at the illusion he switched places with a few minutes ago, hiding a smirk behind a cheap ironman mask he found on the ground. Judging by how the pretend parent figures were already going on about the different Time zones of New York and Napal (as if he didn’t know) they had no idea they were talking to an empty space.

They would figure it out eventually; anything trying to touch it would go straight through after all. Not to mention as soon as Peter got too far away, the connection would drop. He had hung around until now for this specific reason, but that wasn’t necessary any longer. He wanted to be as far from their search range as physically possible so not to be found immediately. He had other exhibits to see, after all.

He weaved through the crowd slowly and carefully, making sure to be as unnoticeable as possible. Only when he heard loud cursing come from behind him did he start moving a little faster, slipping into a smaller form as he went.

Soon enough a five-year-old boy with brown hair and the same iron man mask, wiggled out from the crowd of adult legs. Peter wasn’t really a fan of looking younger than he was, he took long enough aging as it was, but it was the last thing his little field trip guardians would expect from him.

Peter grinned as he turned his focus onto the exhibits surrounding him. They were amazing with self-driving cars and Stark tablets which had yet to be released to the public. He couldn’t believe how much there still was that he hadn’t seen despite getting here as soon as the doors opened.

It was laughably easy to avoiding his guardians, so much so he hardly needed to actively do so. He changed his form every hour or so, just to be sure, but in the end, he was basically free to wander the exhibits as he saw fit.

The sun had set some time ago when he found himself studying an exhibit from the 1940’s. It was labeled ‘Howard Stark’s Original Flying Car.’ He smiled, vaguely remembering being taken to see it when he was smaller. The flying mechanisms had failed on stage, prompting him to ask the Ancient One why they didn’t just use magic. She had laughed before explaining for the first time that not everyone knew magic existed. It would be years before he fully understood what she meant by that.

With one last fond look, he wandered away towards the next exhibit. He was back in the little kid’s form again, but now with a full plastic ironman helmet and accompanying hand mounted flashlights. He had ditched the cheap one sometime ago buying these from a vendor along the way. It was to help his disguise. That’s all it was intended for. It certainly wasn’t bought for the specific reason of getting added to his superhero collection.

It was about halfway towards the next exhibit that the screams started.

He froze in the center of the road as people ran past. There were explosions now; bright flashes of light peppered throughout the expo, easily seen against the black sky. He couldn’t see where they were coming from.

He should run. He knew he should run. But to where? He didn’t know. Everywhere he looked seemed to be exploding or full of panicked people ready to trample him. Nowhere was safe.

It reminded him of that Nazi base he had dropped into all those years ago. Everything loud and exploding, but this time there was no Captain America to keep him safe. No shield for him to hide behind while he waited for it all to just be over.

In fact, there was no one doing anything. Even as the source of the explosions came into view (giant ironman-looking robots that would have fascinated him any other time) he couldn’t help but notice there was no one trying to stop them. Didn’t anyone realize the longer this went on, the more people that would get hurt?

Someone should stop them.

He could stop them.

Peter’s feet froze before they could take a second step. He could help. True he was still very much a child, and had no real combat experience outside of training spars, and had certainly never fought a fully armed robot, but no one else was stepping up. Plus, he would have the advantage. He highly doubted whoever programed these things, made them magic proof.

He could do this. He couldn’t take out all of them, that much he knew, but even just taking one or two down would be better than nothing.

A robot walked up to him, making what was left of the crowd around him scatter.

It was huge, looking even bigger from his current five-year-old vantage point. He noted briefly that he had been wrong, these robots looked nothing like Ironman. They had the round light in the center of their chest, sure, but that was the only similarity. These things were dull and clunky, with none of the fineness Stark’s suit brought to the table. The mask, though blank of any human-like features, had a strip of light that seemed to stare down into his soul.

Peter swallowed hard, trying to bury the fear that had been creeping up. He could do this. The child flashlight on his palm could easily be converted to something a little more destructive using magic. He wouldn’t need to do much, just a little jolt of something to make it lose its connection to whatever was controlling it. Simple really.

He held up his hand, trying to twist the spell even as a giant gun barrel leveled at his head. His heart beat pounded through his ears, masking all other sounds as his outstretched hand shook.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

The robot fell to the ground, a hole blasted through its sternum.

He…hadn’t done that.

“Nice work, kid,” a metallic voice said behind him. Peter’s head snapped around just in time to see the real live Ironman take back off into the sky.

Peter stared at the spot for a while.

Apparently, someone was doing something after all. It made sense. This was his Expo and everything, why wouldn’t he get rid of the enemies invading it.

“Found you,” a voice growled behind him.

Peter let out a small ‘eep’ sound as he was yanked backwards by the hood of his jacket. He glanced behind him to find his two irate guardians glaring back.

“I don’t know you,” Peter said slowly.

“Don’t even try that, Lokison,” they said back. Peter wrinkled his nose. People only called him ‘Lokison’ when he was in trouble. “We’re going home.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Peter asked with a sigh. He took off his Ironman mask so he could change back to regular size. The jig was up, there was no point in staying small if he didn’t need to be.

“No five-year-old would stand their ground so calmly with a giant robot about to kill them,” They answered as their teammate opened the portal home. Lucky for them, there was no one around at the moment to notice the blatant display of magic.

“Have you ever met a five-year-old? Some of them would totally do that.” Peter got a dirty look for his troubles.

It was a lot later at the Sanctum then it was in New York, so late that it had almost swung back around to being morning again. It was eerily silent compared to the chaos they just left. Everyone was still asleep for the time being. Everyone except the Ancient One.

He was brought before her immediately so his guardians could list his transgressions of the day. She waited patiently for them to finish as she alternated between sipping her tea and hiding an amused smile behind the cup.

Once they were done, she dismissed them to finally leave them alone.

“Now Peter,” She said. He could hear the amusement in her voice as she set down her cup. “What did you learn today?”

“A lot,” he said with a grin. “Mostly that those two are idiots and ditching them wasn’t even close to the challenge I was expecting.”

“And what about the robot that attacked you. What did you learn from that?”

“I know what you want me to say I learned,” Peter said after a second to think. The Ancient One raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “You’ll want me to say that I learned not to ditch my guardians because that means I’m all alone when something like that happens. But, honestly, I didn’t learn that at all.”

“What did you learn?” She asked. Peter grinned, looking down at the Ironman mask in his arms. Finally giving words to the excited, giddy feeling he’s had since the attack.

“That I want to be a hero.”

SHURI- 2016

Shuri meandered around the lab, working on a few things but giving nothing her full attention for very long. She was worried. Peter was supposed to have shown up hours ago so he could witness her brother interacting with his new suits for the first time. It was bound to be a sight, something he would definitely not want to miss. But it was about ten minutes before T’challa was going to visit the lab and the magical kid has yet to show up.

Having no idea what Peter did when he wasn’t hanging out in the lab, she had no way of knowing what was keeping him so long. She really needed to put a tracker on his phone. Or maybe just hack the damn thing once she wrangled the number out of him.

She caught sight of the yellow portal sparks appear off to her left, looking over just in time to see the boy in question step through it before it closed.

“About time. Do you know how late you are? You’re lucky I don’t revoke your lab privileges,” Shuri said before taking in the sight of him. Peter was distraught, his eyes, puffy and red, not looking away from the floor, his clothes wrinkled like he hadn’t changed them in a day or so. “What’s wrong?”

“My…my guardian just died. Yesterday night,” Peter said softly, his voice hollow.

“I’m so sorry.” Shuri put down her work, making sure the boy had her full attention. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” Peter said. “I know it was foul play but no one will tell me specifics. They say I’m too young to understand.”

“But you’re not,” Shuri said, watching a fist tighten by his side as he continued.

“No, I’m not. I’m older than anyone at the damn sanctum. I’ve known…I knew her the longest and they have the audacity to try and tell me I’m too young to understand?” Peter finally looked up then, his eyes shining with angry tears he had yet to shed. “What’s so hard to understand? She’s dead! Someone killed her and…”

Shuri took the few short steps towards him, wrapping him in a hug before his heartbreaking sob could make itself known. Peter clung to her coat like a lifeline, his tears falling in earnest now.

“I…wasn’t even that far away. I’ve been staying with someone else for a…a few years now, but she still…she still died just a few miles away from there. I…I could have helped. I could have s-saved her. If I only knew.”

“I doubt you could have helped,” Shuri said after a long moment.

“You don’t know that.” his voice was muffled by her coat but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“She raised you, right? From when you were little?”

“Six months,” he muttered.

“She has to have been magical if she was an adult 120 years ago.” Shuri stated, not really a question. Peter nodded anyways. “To be able to extend your life like that, you have to be pretty powerful. A lot more than you. If she’s that powerful, and still lost whatever fight she was in, then you wouldn’t have had a chance.”

“My magic’s different. I could have helped. Surprised them.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” she said, eliciting another sob from the boy. She held him tighter, trying to give him comfort where she could. Shuri hadn’t known Peter for very long, but she’d be damned if she let a grieving friend continue to hurt on her watch.

 It was several minutes before Peter’s sobs turned into something more akin to distressed hiccups.

“Are you feeling a little better?”

“No,” Peter muttered, his grip on her coat loosening as he slowly stepped away.

“You want to talk about it some more? I can tell T’challa to come back tomorrow for his suits.”

“Not really.” Peter wiped his eyes on his sleeve, still hiccupping. “I think…I think I’m going to help Buby with his goats. Just spend some time away from everything.”

“Ok. I’ll tape my brother’s interaction with his suits for you. So you can watch them when you feel up to it. Sound good?”

“Yeah, ok,” he said, an echo of his normal smile ghosting across his face for a moment. “And thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“What? Tape my brother get thrown across the room by his own suit? Would have done that anyways. Need it for science reasons.”

“No, the thing before. You didn’t have to.”

“You’re my friend. I think I did,” Shuri said, smiling back at the boy. “Now go. Help Buby with his goats. He probably needs it.”

Peter nodded briefly, opening a golden portal with a wave of his hand. Shuri could see the green meadow through the other side, a few curious goats staring back towards them. Peter paused.

“She was the one constant I had growing up,” he said quietly. “Where everything else changed, and everyone else grew old, she didn’t. She always stayed the same. And now she’s not.”

“I think I understand. I felt the same thing, or at least something similar when my dad died,” Shuri said after a moment. “If you want, when you’re ready, you can tell me about her some more. Sometimes talking about them helps because it reminds you of the good times and not the end.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Peter turned back towards the portal, stepping through and disappearing once again.

Chapter Text

LOKI-2011

Loki sat in silence, completely alone in an empty room devoid of furniture. He’d been there ever since he had fell from the rainbow bridge and was later fished out of the cosmos. He wasn’t sure how long that had been. It wasn’t like there were windows to the outside or even a clock. Not that a window would do much good anyways. He was fairly certain wherever he was, it didn’t have the same day and night cycle of Asgard or Earth.

The door was locked, but he wasn’t exactly forced to stay there. He could leave the room at any time, as long he agreed to do something in return. But Loki had no intention of giving into his demands.

So he sat there, with nothing except his thoughts to entertain him. He couldn’t say it was a very enjoyable experience. He valued his solitude, yes, but me much preferred the type where he could get things done. There was none of that here. No projects. No books. No distractions of any kind.

He hated it.

He hated how his thoughts would turn sour the moment he wasn’t directing them to something. How dark whispers would try and convince him that no matter what he did, he would always be second to his brother. He hated how it would replay memories with a prickling feeling in their background that would no doubt turn to regret if he let it. Loki tried to stay vigilant, to police his thoughts and chase out the intruders like those. But it was getting increasingly taxing on his mind the longer he stayed in this empty room.

This is what he wanted, Loki knew that. Isolation was a kind of torture tactic after all, particularly for those that had the extra time and didn’t want to get their hands dirty. And the titan that put him here had nothing but time on his hands.

But Loki’s mind was not so easily swayed. No matter how many prickling memories played in his mind, whether they were that of Thor’s face upon realizing his betrayal or simply the echoing cries of the child as he walked away, he would not give in. He was a stubborn soul, and he was determined to make sure that giant purple monstrosity knew it.

Loki didn’t even move as the door to his right clicked open, said titan entering the room as if Loki’s own thoughts had summoned him.

“Don’t bother,” Loki stated simply. “My answer has not changed.”

“Why do you resist?” The titan asked back, coming to stand in front of him. Loki was fairly certain his name was Thanos but didn’t really care enough to ask if he was right. “Join me and you could have everything.”

“What you offer is not what I seek,” Loki said stiffly, still refusing to look at him out of spite.

“I’m offering you an entire planet to rule over as you see fit. A throne to call your own.”

“Not the throne I want.” Loki glared up at the man from his spot on the floor. They’ve had this conversation a dozen times already. Each one as frustrating as the last.

“Even when I offer you the Asgardian throne, you still turn down my offer.”

“I have seen the way you conquer planets and I know my…I know the Asgardian people. There is not a single living soul on that planet who wouldn’t die rather than surrender to your command,” Loki said sharply. “The Asgardian throne would mean nothing by the time you were done. It may as well be a gilded chamber pot at that point. And I have no need for one of those.”

Thanos sighed.

“You are making this more difficult than it has to be,” the titan said after a long moment.

“That is my specialty, to say the least.” Loki looked away and back to the wall, the conversation being over as far as he was concerned.

“I had wanted you to join me willingly,” Thanos continued, not getting the memo, or most likely ignoring it. “But it seems I will have to resort to other methods to get what I need.”

“Are you finally moving on to the real torture?” Loki questioned, not really invested in the answer. “Color me surprised. I thought you would continue this facade until you yourself died of boredom. That is the only way my isolation would end, after all.”

Thanos knelt down so he was mostly eyelevel, forcing the wayward prince to look at him.

“I have cleaner methods than that,” the titan said clearly.

With a frown, Loki opened his mouth to respond, a witty retort at the tip of his tongue. The first word of which barely left his lips when a metal gauntlet was pressed flat against the right side of his head, the thumb digging into the center of his forehead.

Loki gasped as something slipped into his mind; what felt like greasy tendrils moving around without his approval. He tried to shut them out, to get rid of them in some way, but they only ignored his attempts and started sorting through his thoughts and memories.

“Why won’t you follow me?” Thanos voice asked. It seemed to echo through the room, through his ears, through his mind. Loki knew in an instant he wasn’t looking for a verbal answer as images jumped up from his mind to do just that.

There was nothing he could do as images of his time on Earth rose to the forefront. The few friends he had made throughout the years, little Chelsea, Theo, even the baby appeared no matter how hard Loki fought to keep them hidden.

“Ah, so it is sentiment that keeps you,” Thanos deduced. Loki couldn’t say anything to deny it, his body no longer under his control. He couldn’t so much as twitch his finger as the titan routed through his mind.

It terrified him.

“But so long ago, as far as these humans are concerned. You can’t possibly think any are left alive,” Thanos said. An image of the baby settled up front; it was just of him playing with Loki’s fingers the day he was left on Earth but it answered the Titan’s question well enough. “That is yours, no doubt. You think there is a chance he could have lived this long, or, more likely, sired children of his own that still live in that world. A pity that neither of those are the truth.”

Loki couldn’t breath as images not his own entered his mind. A boy with ashy brown curls, barely past puberty, leaving home alone for the first time. That same boy doing little magic tricks as he traveled through town. A religious group Loki didn’t recognize persecuting him for it, talking the very people he had been entertaining into turning on him in an instant.

He hadn’t stood a chance.

The gauntlet was removed from his head, letting the lonely god drop to the floor like a limp ragdoll. Loki gasped for air, his limbs shaking, barely aware of Thanos climbing back to his feet.

“Those humans you are unwittingly protecting killed your child,” Thanos said after a moment, finally drawing Loki’s attention from his own mind.

“W-what was- what did you do to me?” Loki demanded, his voice sounding airy and weak.

“I showed you the truth,” Thanos told him matter of factly. “You left your child, your Peter among the humans, trusting them to keep him safe. Instead they killed him before he had a chance to live. For that alone, they deserve your wrath, don’t you think?”

“You’re lying,” Loki tried to reason.

“I don’t make a habit of lying.” Thanos turned away completely, leaving through the door. He paused for a moment as he went to shut it. “I will come back. When I do, I imagine you will be much more willingly to follow me then.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Loki to stare at the wall, these new images playing across his eyes on repeat. For the first time since he was placed in this room, he thought that Thanos may be right.

PETER-2016

Peter tinkered quietly in Tony’s lab, working on adjusting his webshooters some. He didn’t end up in Mr. Stark’s lab a lot, even on interning weekends. Usually they just did whatever tune ups in one of the couple smaller workshops set up around the compound. But whatever coding project Tony was working on for the past month was now too big to access from any of his mobile devises, thus the reason they were in Tony’s lab today.

 It was only maybe about two weeks since the Ancient One had died, and though he felt a bit better now, it still hurt. Like there was a hole in his chest he couldn’t fix, no matter what he did. He had lost people he cared about before; when you age as slow as he does it kind of comes with the territory.

But this loss hurt worse.

She was his guardian, his teacher. The person that raised him. She was the closest thing to a mother he had growing up. And the one person he wasn’t supposed to be able to lose.

“Hey kid, you’ve been awfully quiet today,” Tony said, getting Peter’s attention out of his own thoughts. “Normally you’re chatting my ear off like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Mr. Stark. I just have a lot on my mind,” Peter said.

“Didn’t think the adjustments would be that difficult for you,” Tony stated, typing away at his computer. “If you’re really that stuck, you can always ask for help. I am supposed to be mentoring you or…something like that. But if you’d rather struggle and figure it out for yourself then fine by me. No problem. I’ll just be over here, klickity klacking on my keyboard, not doing my job.”

Peter thought for a moment. Thought about correcting him and mentioning what was really on his mind. An abridged version anyways. Maybe Mr. Stark would have some advice for him. Though the man was an adult when he lost his parents, he did still lose them.

Before Peter could decide one way or the other, something caught his eye. He wasn’t sure why he was only seeing it now, after all he had been in here a few times before. Maybe it was his previous amazement at the sheer amount of tech that blinded him to it. Or Maybe he was simply the thought of parents and parental figures that finally made him take notice. But across the room, in a glass, protective case, surrounded by discarded and broken equipment, was a cane.

It was made of a dark, cool colored wood that almost matched his natural hair color. The handle was sturdy though well-worn from years of use, was shaped into the head of a magpie, bright green gems in place of eyes. The staff had carved into it little hints of feathers that almost looked like snake scales from this far back.

It was gorgeous and old, despite it looking as if time had never touched it. He knew for a fact, it was several decades older than himself, but that’s not what got his attention. That cane, was the very same cane the illusion of Loki held whenever Peter asked it questions of his mortal father.

It also had magic.

“But if you want to fight with it all afternoon, I suppose that’s your problem,” Mr. Stark continued, not noticing Peter’s new focus. “Who am I to stop you? Definitely not anyone of-“

“What’s that?” Peter interrupted, pointing towards the cane. Tony followed his hand to the object in question, a general look of distain settling onto his face soon after.

“Of course you’d ask about that. Almost forgot you were fascinated by the bastard,” Tony muttered to himself. “Just ignore it, kid. It’s not important.”

“What does it do?” Peter continued, walking around his work bench to get a better look at it. Now that he was closer, he saw that one of the gems on the handle was missing, looking as if it was gorged out carelessly with a knife.

“Nothing.”

“Then why is it in a case? That’s definitely a ‘protect the outside’ case and not a ‘protect the contents’ case. So it has to do something.” Peter rested a hand on the case, feeling the faint magical signatures coming from inside. It was a signature he had only ever felt on the scroll that held Loki’s illusion. Loki’s magic.

“Go back to your workstation. It doesn’t concern you,” Tony said, his voice now stern. Peter ignored him.

“Why is one of the eyes missing?”

“Fine, that was where the mind stone was placed,” Tony said with a tired sigh. Peter turned back towards him in surprise. “It used to be Loki’s scepter, with his little magic ‘mind control’ stone. Once we removed the stone, it turned into that.”

“This was his scepter?” Peter asked, looking back on it in awe. He didn’t know Loki much at all, but he never expected him to use his mortal father’s cane as a weapon.

“Yes, yes, it shocked everyone, that’s for sure,” Tony said flippantly. “Now back to your station.”

Peter lingered a moment longer, studying the spellwork a little closer while he could. He could feel the difference in the how the spells were shaped. They weren’t like any of the spells that sorcerers made, but still similar enough that he could make out their function. Most were just a few maintenance spells, to keep it clean and the like. But one was a locator/summoning spell. It was best described as a spell that tethered an object to the caster, allowing them to find or summon it easily without having to cast a new spell each time.

Peter just knew this object had been tethered to Loki, and would still have been if the spell hadn’t been in tatters. Only wisps of it remained, clinging to the wood like a persistent stain. But if Peter had a chance to study those remaining wisps, he might just be able to wrangle the god’s location out of it.

Stepping away from the case, his fingers lingered on the case as long as they could. The faint feel of Loki’s magic was comforting in a way he couldn’t exactly describe. It made him even more certain of what he needed to do next.

He needed that cane. And he doubted Tony would just hand it over willingly. As much as he respected Mr. Stark, he viewed it as dangerous. Which meant, he really had only one course of action available to him.

Peter was going to have to steal it.

Chapter Text

PETER-2011

“Have you seen the Ancient One around? I wanted to ask her about something?” Peter asked, flopping on the librarian’s desk. He glared at the boy.

“She’s busy,” he stated, turning back to his books.

“She’s never too busy for me,” Peter said with a grin.

“She is today.”

“Doing what?”

“There’s trouble near the New York sanctum so she went to defend it herself,” The librarian finally admitted. “As I said, she is far too busy for you.”

“What sort of trouble?”

“Trouble you were directly forbidden from interfering with.”

“I don’t remember anyone telling me that.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“That doesn’t count,” Peter said with a pout. The Librarian wasn’t moved.

“It most certainly does.”

Peter groaned in annoyance, rolling himself off the desk and onto his feet.

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be,” Peter said, exasperated. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room. Doing nothing. Because I’m apparently ‘forbidden’ from interfering in anything fun.”

Peter trudged dramatically out of the library before the librarian could even question him. He kept up the charade until he was in the privacy of his own room with the door shut. A grin spread across his face. Whatever was happening in New York had to be better than this.

He opened a portal, only pausing to grab a staff for defense before jumping through to the other side.

It was chaos. People screaming, buildings crumbling. It looked like a scene straight out of a disaster movie. That wasn’t even taking into account the aliens. They were ugly grey things, some flying through the sky on weird Segway-looking crafts, other running through the streets. All shooting highly destructive lasers at whatever moved

It felt like the expo did, but ten times worse. At least the expo didn’t have an endless supply of aliens. Sure, he could probably fight them easier than the giant metal robots, but there was so many of them. Certainly more than one kid with a staff and some magic could handle.

Peter barely got his staff up intime to block the laser aimed for his chest, the force sending him flying backwards even without hitting him. He had a passing thought that maybe he was still too small for this type of fighting as the alien that fired at him began to approach slowly. The alien seemed to grin confidently as it leveled its weapon at the boy.

Neither were prepared for the electric hammer that fell from the sky to crush him, or for the man who was attached to it.

Peter could only stare as a man with blond hair and a long billowing cape climbed to his feet and out of the crater he had created. The magic that flowed off the man was electric, sparking around him and his hammer protectively. It was different than his own but felt more similar than anything he had ever come into contact with, other than his father’s scroll that was. It certainly wasn’t human magic.

He knew who this man was. Peter had heard some rumors about him appearing in some rural American town but nothing since then. He certainly never thought he’d run into Thor here of all places.

“Find shelter,” Thor ordered him, his voice sounding familiar despite never meeting the man before now. He began swinging his hammer at his side. “The streets are no place for a child right now.”

Thor crouched down, making Peter realize with a start that he was going to leave again.

“Wait! Don’t-“ Peter shouted, scrambling to his feet as quickly as possible.

But he was already gone.

“-go.”

Peter stood there for a long moment, staring at the place he had disappeared. He had been close. So close. He knew the middle of an alien invasion wasn’t the best place to reunite with lost family members, but he’d been right there.

He couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

If Peter hadn’t been looking up still, he would have missed it. A familiar green streaking by on one of the alien Segways. It was the same shade of green printed on his father’s scroll. The same color the illusion wore.

Peter was running before he realized it. He opened a portal in front of him, bringing him to a nearby rooftop to get a better view. That view never came as another portal opened up under his feet and dropped him into the middle of the New York Sanctum’s main room.

The Ancient Once closed the portal, giving Peter a stern look as he sat, stunned on the floor.

“Go home,” she told him.

“Was that-“

“Go home, Peter,” she said again, confirming it in everything but words. “You shouldn’t be here for this.”

“My uncle’s here. And father!” Peter scrambled to his feet.

“An invasion is no time for family reunions,” she stated.

“But they’re both here. I may never get this chance again!”

“You will, I am certain. But today is not that day. Go home.”

“They’re right there!” Peter gestured wildly towards the door, refusing to give up so easily. “They’re fighting the aliens right out there and you want me to go home instead of helping them? Meeting them!”

“There are things you don’t understand about this invasion,” she said, a sad tone in her voice.

“Then explain. Please.”

The Ancient One didn’t say anything for a long moment.

“Loki is not fighting against the invasion,” she said. “He brought it.”

Peter felt like he just had a rug ripped out from under him.

“That…no, that can’t be right. It has to be a mistake,” Peter said, shaking his head adamantly. “He lived here for forty years. He wouldn’t invade it like this.”

“Peter, you’ve never met him,” she told him gently. “You don’t know what he would or wouldn’t do.”

“But-“ Peter tried to protest, but he knew his heart was no longer in it. The Ancient One placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“We can talk more on this later, if you wish,” she said. “But right now, you need to go home.”

“Ok,” he murmured.

The Ancient One opened up a portal for him that lead straight into his bedroom. Peter flopped onto his bed, the portal closing behind him as he curled around his pillow. His mind was reeling. He had been so close.

It just wasn’t fair.

TONY-2016

“And then I caught this bike thief but I couldn’t figure out where the owner was so I just left it with a note. Oh and I helped this lady cross the road and she bought me a churro.” Peter chittered excitedly over the speaker phone. Tony smiled lightly as he tinkered with one of his suits. He had tried having Peter go through Happy but all that accomplished was Peter sending a near impossible number of text and voice messages to both Happy’s and Tony’s personal phones. Tony wasn’t even sure how he got his number.

He was almost impressed.

Regardless, Tony eventually let Happy off the hook and took the calls himself. If he wasn’t busy, he’d even pick up. Plus, Tony was starting to like these conversations with him. It made him feel good knowing that Peter was out there helping his little neighborhood, and it helped keep Tony from panicking over the kid.

Peter’s voice faded to silence, getting Tony’s attention. Usually he rambled longer than this.

“Hey kid, what’s up?”

“What? Oh nothing,” Peter said, sounding distracted. If he was distracted that it definitely wasn’t nothing. “Quick question, though. You don’t happen to be robbing a bank in Queens right now with a sweet anti-gravity gun, right?”

“Why would I need to rob a bank? I may as well be the bank myself,” Tony said with a huff. He paused. “Wait. Why?”

“Oh no reason,” Peter’s nonchalant voice was not convincing. “On a completely unrelated topic, I have to go.”

“Peter, that sounds like something you shouldn’t be getting-“ Tony stopped when the phone went dead.

So much for not panicking.

The ironman suit was on in a matter of seconds. He burst through the ceiling, not bothering to wait for his emergency doors to open. They were too slow for him right now. He made a mental note to have that fixed when the new hole was fixed. He really couldn’t have new holes made in his compound every time this kid tried to take on something out of his paygrade. He wouldn’t have much of a roof left if that was the case.

He tracked the spider suit’s location to a small bank in Queens and headed straight towards it. The trip felt like forever but by the time he got there, the entire block was on fire. Sirens rang in the distance, no doubt headed to this location. Some criminals were strung up a lightpost haphazardly, and a few coughing civilians sat on the corner watching their building’s burn.

But the spiderling was nowhere to be found.

Tony exited the suit and quickly approached an ash covered man holding a spooked cat.

“Where is Spiderman? He was here right?” Tony asked in a rush. The man nodded in a stunned silence. “Where is he?”

“He pulled me and my cat out of the building,” He answered, coughing a bit between words. “I haven’t seen him since.”

“Was he injured?”

“Not that I could tell.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Was that your house?”

“My shop,” the man said simply.

“I’m sorry it got caught in the crossfire.” Tony made a mental note to check into this more later. “Police should be here soon. I have to leave.”

Tony hadn’t taken a step when the man grabbed his arm, making him stop.

“You’re not going to get Spiderman into trouble, are you?” the shopkeeper asked. He had a determined look on his face. Tony realized with a start that this man was willing to protect Spiderman even from other heroes. It was a bit of a surprise, considering how negative the media liked to paint superheroes such as them. But Spiderman seemed to be different to them. He protected them, so they decided to protect him in turn. It was, well, it was pretty amazing.

“No, I’m not,” Tony said truthfully. “I’m just going to insure he wasn’t hurt.”

The man nodded, letting go of his arm. Tony took note of the shops address. If this man was willing to fight Ironman to keep the kid safe, then he deserved a ‘mysterious benefactor’ to make sure his shop gets rebuilt. It was the least he could do.

Tony got back to his suit, blasting off into the sky seconds later. Peter’s tracker was heading towards his apartment now.

“Friday, call the Spiderling,” Tony ordered.

“Yes boss. Also, Vision has been trying to contact you for the past minute. It seems to be important,” FRIDAY’s voice said through his helmet.

“The kid first, then we’ll deal with him.”

“Of course. Calling Peter Parker.”

The phone rang through his suit for several tense seconds before Peter finally picked up.

“Hello?” The boy said, sounding winded.

“What the hell was that? You don’t hang up on me after saying you’re going to take on some idiots armed with futuristic tech. That’s not how this works, kid,” Tony ranted.

“You were just going to tell me no anyways,” Peter said. “Someone had to stop them and I’m better equipped to deal with it than the cops.”

“You could have been hurt.”

“It was an antigravity gun. It’s barely tickled.”

“You got hit with it?!”

“I told you I’m fine,” Peter said. Tony had no doubt he was rolling his eyes.

“Do that again, and I’ll revoke your compound clearance for a week.”

“That’s like the opposite of grounding.”

“And you’ll hate it just as much,” Tony said with confidence. “Now go home. That’s enough trouble for today.”

“Yeah, sure. You sound like my guardian,” Peter said teasingly before hanging up on him. Tony thought the statement was a little strange. He usually called May Parker his aunt.

“Boss, Vision’s calling again. Do you want me to patch him through?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said. The phone clicked on and he began talking into it. “What’s up, Vision? If it’s about the hole in the roof, I’ll have it taken care of tomorrow. I had something urgent to deal with.”

“No, it’s not,” Vision stated. He sounded fairly calm but there was something running underneath it that Tony couldn’t name at the moment. “There’s been a break in.”

“At the compound?” Tony asked.

“Yes, your lab specifically.”

“What was taken?” Tony was starting to get a bad feeling about this. He immediately changed his flight course towards the compound.

“Nothing,” Vision explained. “Everything of note has been accounted for. Whoever broke in, cut the power to that part of the compound so we can rule out anything digital being taken.”

“If the power was cut, then everything should have gone automatically into lockdown mode. No one could have possibly gotten in.” Tony stopped, his blood running cold. “Except for the hole I made in the roof.”

“From what little camera footage we have of before the power was cut, they did not use that hole as an entry point,” Vision stated.

“Then how the hell did they get in?”

“I will send you the last image the cameras picked up. But, from what I can deduce, it was magic.”

A second later, his suit pinged with an incoming message. Friday opened it in his HUD. It was an image of a sparkling yellow portal to nowhere, a slightly shadowed man in strange garb and a flowing red cape stood inside of it, a hand with a toy-like contraption stretching through the portal, sparking green.

It did not make Tony feel any better.

“I’m on my way back now. You and FRIDAY start going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Take note of anything that has so much as moved since I left, even if it was less than an inch,” Tony ordered.

“Of course,” Vision said, ending the call.

“FRIDAY, message Thor though that email I set up for him. Ask if his stupid god world is missing another magical thief or if I should start looking elsewhere.”

Tony really didn’t want that to be the case. He’d rather deal with Loki again before he was willing to admit there could be other sources of magic available.

Chapter Text

PETER-2012

“Please?” Peter pleaded, almost skipping to keep up with the man walking next to him.

“No.”

“Pleeeease?”

“No.”

“Come on! It will be great. I won’t be a menace, I swear,” Peter continued. The man gave him a disbelieving side glance.

“That’s hard to believe.”

“I’ll be the best kid you’ve ever had!”

“I don’t have kids.”

“My statement still stands,” Peter said with a grin. When the man didn’t respond, he continued. “Come on, Ben.”

“The only reason you’re asking me is because I just happen to live where you need to stay,” Ben stated. His hands were full of books on his way to the Sanctum’s library.

“And because you’re cool, and my friend. I wouldn’t just ask anyone if I could live with them for the next decade or so.” Peter trotted ahead of him a few steps, spinning around to face Ben as he continued down the path. Ben was so used to such antics he didn’t even seem to notice. “It will be cool. Awesome. Groovy. A gas-”

“Stop. No more outdated slang. I’m begging you,” Ben said, looking like he would have been covering his ears if his hands hadn’t been full.

“How am I supposed to know what you young uns are saying nowadays? I’m just too old to keep up with these modern, oh what do you call them? mai-mais?”

“You stop that right now,” Ben said with a glare. “I know damn well you’re doing this on purpose. You’re on the internet far too much not.”

“Of course I am, the internet is great. Best invention of this century, I must say,” Peter grinned, deciding to end his friend’s suffering. “But seriously, can I please come live with you?”

“Look,” Ben said, coming to a stop on the walkway. “My wife, she doesn’t know about any of this. As far as she knows I came to Nepal to get regular, medical treatment so I can move my arm again. No magic. No spells. Just regular medical stuff. I don’t intend to tell her either.”

“I know.”

“I can’t just come home with a century old child who wants to use our apartment as a base so he can become a superhero,” Ben explained.

“Well you don’t have to tell her that much,” Peter said with a shrug. “I can come up with a believable backstory for you to use. I’m pretty good at that, after all.”

“Like what?”

“Orphan you found on the streets?”

“And kidnapped across country lines? Not a chance.”

“Illegitimate child?”

“I’m not telling my wife I cheated on her just so you have a place to live.”

“Fine.” Peter paused for a moment before a thought came to him. “How about a nephew?”

“I don’t have any siblings.”

“Long lost? Or maybe part of a secret government thing so you couldn’t talk about them. But they died recently and left my care to you in their will,” Peter said. “I kinda like this one.”

“And how would they have died?” Ben asked, raising an unbelieving eyebrow.

“Mysterious circumstances,” Peter said with a dramatic flourish. “But the public report just says plane crash.”

“It’s not bad,” Ben conceded. Peter could tell he was seriously considering it. “With all the superhero stuff going on, the secret government thing might actually be believable.”

“I told you I’m good at this.”

“If you can make that work, and get all the legal documentation to prove it, then you can live in New York with me and May,” Ben finally relented. Peter let out a whoop of joy. “Only with proper documentation though.”

“Not a problem,” Peter said with a smirk. “I’ll get documents so realistic that even you’ll believe I'm your nephew.”

“We shall see.”

“Thanks Uncle Ben,” Peter teased, making Ben sigh.

“I’m going to regret this. I know it.”

VISION-2016

“I’m sorry, Peter, but there is nothing I can do,” Vision said, stirring dinner as he spoke.

“But he listens to you,” Peter whined over the speaker phone.

“I think you are grossly overexaggerating my negotiation abilities,” Vision said simply. “And, to be perfectly honest, if I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t change my mind either.”

“You both are being unreasonable.”

“You purposefully got involved in something that was specifically said to be out of your abilities which interrupted a federal investigation that led to the suspects’ escape and risked the lives of almost two hundred civilians. I do not think grounding you for the foreseeable future was as unreasonable as you claim.” Vision set down his spoon and went to search the seasoning cupboard. “You are lucky it is just that. If Mr. Stark had not been there, you could very well have been legally charged and incarcerated for such an interference.”

“But I was just trying to show that I am capable of bigger things like this,” Peter continued on.

“Obviously you are not if this is how it turned out,” Vision answered as Tony wandered into the kitchen, his focus on the tablet in his hands.

“That was just bad luck! I swear I’m not that bad all the time!”

Tony raised an eyebrow as his attention snapped to Vision’s phone.

“The kid?” Tony whispered to Vision as Peter continued to rant through said devise. Vision nodded. “How’d he get your number?”

Vision shrugged, pulling out a few spices he finally decided on and going back to the stove.

“If you could just talk to him about giving me back my suit-“

“Not a chance, half pint,” Tony called as he grabbed a soda from the fridge. “You’re not getting that thing back until you’re a full adult, capable of making proper decisions.”

“Do you have any idea how long that will be? I could make a new suit from scratch by the time I’m ‘old enough,’” Peter pouted on the other end.

“Three to five years isn’t going to kill you.” Tony shook his head as he started back out the door.

“It’s going to be longer than that,” Peter muttered.

“Bye kid,” Tony said as he disappeared again. Peter sighed through the phone.

“Vision, how am I supposed to help people if he’s not going to let me?”

“I think what he is trying to get at is that it is not your job to help people right now,” Vision said slowly. “Your job is to be a teenager, to be a kid while you still have that time. You will be an adult soon enough. There is no need to rush things.”

“Time doesn’t move as fast as you think,” Peter said, still sulking. “Not for me.”

“I’m sure every teenager feels the same,” Vision said with a smile. “Is there anything interesting going on at your school? Maybe something that could distract you from your lack of spider-themed duties?”

“Homecoming is tonight,” Peter said, not sounding overly thrilled. “I was going to hang out there with Ned but I found out Liz didn’t have anyone to go with so I’m going with her. She planned like the whole thing so I didn’t think it was really fair she showed up to it all alone, you know? Girls can be weird about showing up to dances without some sort of date, even if it’s just a friend thing.”

“Ah, so you have a date,” Vision said, teasing lightly.

“I mean, technically? That’s what it’s called when a guy takes a girl to a dance. But it’s not like a romantic date. We’re just friends.” Peter shuffled something on the other side of the phone, probably from nerves.

“Do you like her?”

“Not in the way you’re implying,” Peter said flatly. “Plus, I’m not old enough for romantic dates.”

“On average, most people go out on their first romantic date between the ages of fifteen and nineteen,” Vision stated, picking up the spoon again to stir.

“Still think I’m too young for any of that.”

“Very well,” Vision said, letting the topic drop. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for this non-romantic date about now?”

“I’m working on it. It’s called multitasking,” Peter said. “My aunt’s out getting a corsage so I figured I’d try to get my suit back in the meantime.”

“Which is not going to happen anytime soon.”

“So you said,” Peter said. “But don’t think this is over. If I have to spend the next several years calling every single one of the Avengers just to annoy you into giving me my suit back, I will.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

“Shit, um…you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you? I think I did something wrong.”

“Unfortunately, I do not. I could call Mr. Stark back if you’d like. He should know how,” Vision said. He paused for a moment. “On second thought, maybe I should just transfer you straight to Miss. Potts.”

“Nah, I think I can find something on google,” Peter stated. “Thanks though. Completely unrelated question. How do you untie a really complicated knot?”

Chapter Text

LOKI-2013

“You better say goodbye to her,” Loki stated as he watched Thor fuss over the unconscious human laying in the front of their air boat.

“Not today,” Thor replied firmly, readjusting her makeshift blanket without even looking towards his brother. Loki felt the familiar feeling a jealousy bubble up inside him at the scene.

He buried it swiftly.

“Today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now, it matters not. She will die. All mortals do,” he answered, getting more lost in thought the longer he spoke. “One day, far too soon, you will be left alone, the only person you care to love having died of old age centuries before you find your first grey hair. You will be left with nothing but a hollowness in your chest.”

“That does not matter,” Thor stated, making Loki’s attention snap back to him. He had turned to face him at some point without Loki noticing. “It will have been worth it in the end.”

“And how do you know that?” Loki asked, shifting his grip on the boat’s steering lever.

“It was worth it for you.”

Loki’s fist tightened on the lever, his knuckles turning white. It had been over a hundred years since the man’s death. He thought he was over it by now. He had been over it. But recent events have a way of bringing that pain back out of the dark hole he buried it in. And now he didn’t even have the stupid cane to help ease it.

“Do not put words into my mouth,” Loki hissed, startling Thor with the severity of his tone.

“I know you enjoyed your time with Theo. That you cared for him more than anyone else in your life, except maybe mother. That even after his death you went out of your way to make sure your shared child was safe and well cared for,” Thor said. Loki flinched, a sliver of guilt sneaking free to shoot through his system. Thor didn’t notice as he continued. “I know it was worth it to you.”

“It was not,” Loki interrupted, making Thor stop. “If I had the choice to go back and change things, I would, without a doubt, insure I never so much as looked back to Earth.”

“You can’t mean that,” Thor said. Loki met his eyes with a stern look.

“Oh, I do. In fact, I would do everything in my power to ensure that child would never exist.”

“’That child’ was your son!” Thor yelled, surging up to his feet, making the air boat rock to the side in his carelessness.

“And a lot of good that did him,” Loki said after he was certain the boat wasn’t going to tip them over. “He’s long since been dead.”

“You don’t know that. He was your son as much as he was his. He very well could have lived past what was considered normal. He could still-“

“He is dead,” Loki said firmly. The images Thanos had shown him flashing across his eyes before he could stop them. “He was killed long before he could be considered an adult.”

“How do you know that? I know for a fact you never have asked Heimdall nor tried to visit him on your own.”

“I know,” Loki hissed back.

“But-“

“Would you rather bicker about this all day or save your human? Because I will not be doing both.”

Thor glared at him for a long moment before turning his attention back towards the woman, dropping the subject. Loki knew he had not said his peace on the matter, but if everything worked like he wanted, Loki wouldn’t have to listen to it later.

PETER-2016

The first thing Peter noticed was pain. Everything hurt. His ribs, his arms, his legs. Everything.

The second thing Peter notice was that everything was dark. Dark and dusty. He couldn’t remember if it was supposed to be dark right now, but he was fairly certain it wasn’t supposed to be this dusty. He doubted even a haunted mansion was supposed to have the amount of dust he was currently breathing in.

He coughed, or tried to. It felt like there was weight on his chest keeping him from breathing more than half a breath.

He tried to get up, only to realize he couldn’t. The weight he felt on his chest, wasn’t imaginary. It was real. And it was pinning him down.

Peter remembered then what happened in the last hour. Ditching homecoming, chasing down Vulture, the demolished building.

The demolished building he was under right now.

Peter was having a hard time breathing. He wasn’t sure if it was from panic, the dust, or the building pinning him down. Or a combination of all three.

Whatever the reason, he just couldn’t get air in his lungs properly. He wanted out. He wanted to go home. He wasn’t sure where home was for him right now, whether it was the Sanctums, or the Parker apartment in Queens, or even the Avenger’s compound. Any of them would do. He just wanted to be out, to be safe. Because being pinned under a building was anything but safe.

He tried to calm down and think. He could get out of this. He was strong, stronger than a regular human anyways, and he had magic. He could get free. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

So Peter took a breath, beginning to shift his form into something smaller. He had been planning on a mouse, just something tiny that could wiggle its way out without a problem. But as soon as he started getting smaller, the rubble shifted with him. He had only been able to shift as small as he original form before it was too much. He had only made things worse. Because now, now it hurt.

Peter cried, screamed, tried his best to get someone’s attention, but there was no one around. He already knew this. The place had been abandoned when he first got here, it wouldn’t have changed since then. There was no one there to help.

Peter was alone.

Panic set in then. There was nothing he could do. He may be strong, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough to lift an entire building. He could use portals, but not while pinned under who knows how many tons of rubble. There was nothing he could do, no way to call for help that anyone could hear.

As many times as he hadn’t wanted to be rescued from things, he really wished someone was here to rescue him now.

Peter could feel his magic swirling in response. Like it was trying to find a way out as much as he was. But there was no spell he knew how that could solve this. It was as trapped as he was. Or he thought it was.

His eyes squeezed shut as his magic burst from him. He felt tired and dizzy once it was gone. There was still a little left but it was barely enough for human spells, and not nearly enough for any sort of transformation.

He almost started panicking again at his now limited options, but there was something different that made him pause.

The pain was gone.

He could breath.

Peter peeked his eyes open to look around. Dust still filled the air but the rubble trapping him was gone. In fact, anything that remained of the building was gone, turned into tiny pebbles and dust. It almost looked like a beach now.

He hadn’t known his magic could do that.

Peter was slow climbing back to his feet, almost falling back down again as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep but he couldn’t just let Vulture make off with the Ironman suits. He’d come this far; he wasn’t going to let all this be in vain.

Maybe he was crazy but he had to do this.

Peter opened a portal into the plane, the light as wobblily as he felt, and stepped through it.

Chapter Text

ODIN-2016

Odin’s eyes snapped open, the familiar feel of an uncontrolled magic hitting him like a brick. He turned his attention away from the television, no longer content to doze through whatever program the nursing home had it tuned to. The spells Loki had put on him being brushed away by the urgency he felt from this new magic.

The magic itself did nothing, its initial purpose already finished long before he perceived it. It was little more than a shockwave of extra magic that had not been needed for the task it was given, acting like a beacon to anyone magically gifted within the radius. Magic like that only came from a spell formed by accident, one that formed from great desperation and left the caster drained.

This almost always was a result of young sorcerers getting into dangerous situations and being unable to control their magic.

Loki had only ever had a few instances like this growing up, each one had been a life-threatening situation that the magic had saved him from, but would leave him bedridden for weeks as a result.

Odin was certain this spell had been no different for its caster. He could feel their lingering fear and desperation laced into the magic. They were young, so young. Whatever situation that child was in, they shouldn’t be, that much was certain. There was no excuse for letting such a young child get into something so dangerous that their magic had to save them from it. He hoped that their parents would find them soon and bring them back to the safety of their home. Odin had the nagging suspicion that this would not be the case, but it took him longer than he thought to realize why.

That magic felt like Loki’s.

It wasn’t exactly, he could tell that much, but it was far too similar for it to be a coincidence. There had been rumors about a century ago that Loki had had a child with a human during his time on Earth, but Odin had dismissed them. His son was still fairly young, he didn’t think he would have been so irresponsible as to have a child during that time, let alone with a mortal. But, coming face to face with this magical signature, he was starting to think those rumors may have had some merit.

One way or another, it was his duty to make sure this child’s cry for help does not go unanswered.

Odin stood up from the chair, summoning his armor and spear with a wave of his hand. The nursing home staff that had witnessed this only watched with wide eyes as he walked out of the building.

Getting to the epicenter of the magic was impeccably easy. Finding the child, as it turned out, was not. They weren’t here. In fact, nothing was really here except a pile of grey sand. He sifted through a handful of it, finding small bits of glass and metal among all the tiny grey particles. If he had to guess, this had once been a building, one that the child’s magic had destroyed without restraint.

That child shouldn’t have enough energy to move after such a spell. But they weren’t here, and he had no way of tracking them.

Odin’s eyes drifted to a flock of three nearby birds that watched him curiously. He smiled, he should have known some of them would follow him, even here. Maybe he could find the child after all.

“Come,” he called, holding his arm out towards them. All three ravens immediately took flight, two landing on the outstretched arm, while the third landed on his opposite shoulder. “I need your help once again, my friends.”

-

It only took the ravens a few minutes to return with news of this magical child and their location. It was a young boy, not too far from here, but farther than he should have been able to get. The boy was still in danger.

Odin was there in an instant, taking in the sight of a crashed metal contraption that mortals called a plane and a beach full of flaming debris. He was still trying to make sense of what he was seeing when a small yelp of pain got his attention.

An adult size figure stood among the fire, something large and metal attached to his back sparking dangerously. They held up a smaller figure that struggled weakly as they were dangled above the ground by only their shirt.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Pete,” The larger figure said, not noticing he now had an audience. “You should have stayed under that building. Hell, you should have stayed at school. I don’t like hurting kids, especially my daughter’s-“

The man stopped short, leaning closer to get a better look at the other figure.

“Why…Why do you look younger?”

The child took advantage of his distraction, lifting a shaky hand to spray something in the man’s face. The man made a cry of outrage as he threw the child to the ground, scraping whatever it was off and turning his fury onto the one that caused it.

The child didn’t even have the energy to finch as the man lifted a clawed foot high. He never got the chance to bring it down as Odin’s spear skewered the man’s wing-like attachments and dragged him several yards away to be pinned against a piece of debris.

“Are you so low as to strike a child?!” Odin yelled across the beach, his fury reverberating in his words.

“What the –“ the man tried to respond, but Odin didn’t let him continue. He wasn’t done.

“I do not know the laws of this realm in regards to harming children, but that matters not,” Odin said, walking slowly across the beach towards the man. “The child you harmed is not of this realm but of mine. Therefore, it is my rules that apply.”

“He’s the one that got-“

“Silence!” Odin yelled. “The punishment for such an action, is death.”

“Hold on! That’s not what-“

“If you have any last words, say them now, for you will not get another chance,” Odin stated pulling out a small dagger he had on his person.

When nothing but excuses came from the man’s mouth, Odin decided enough was enough.

“Wait,” a small voice called, stopping Odin’s knife an inch from the man’s chest. The king turned to find the boy staring at them with bright green eyes that were far too familiar for him to ignore. He had rolled over at some point, trying to crawl towards them but was clearly too exhausted to get much farther. “Don’t. Don’t kill him.”

“You ask that I spare his life?” Odin questioned the boy, Loki’s son there was no doubt. The child nodded, barely keep his head out of the sand. “Why?”

“He’s mortal,” he replied, his voice almost carried away by the faint breeze. “His life is already so…so short. His daughter’s my friend. Please, don’t kill him.”

Odin sighed, putting the blade back into its sheath. He’s been a grandfather for barely a minute and this child already has him wrapped around his little finger.

“The only reason you yet live is at his request,” Odin stated, pointing towards the child. “You owe him your life. You best not forget that.”

Odin left him pinned to the debris as he walked back over to the boy, finding him already unconscious. Upon closer examination, the child had already had multiple injuries and was clearly suffering from magical exhaustion. He needed medical attention and he doubted human doctors would be able to help much.

“Come along, grandchild,” Odin whispered as he lifted the boy into his arms. “I know someone who would very much like to meet you.”

TONY-2016

Tony groaned as his phone started ringing on the table next to him. He wanted to ignore it. He was in the middle of a big move and he really didn’t have time for whatever this random individual had to say. He didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID. No one would blame him if he didn’t pick up.

But he felt like he should. Tony has been developing a sixth sense for Peter’s troublemaking tendencies, a sense that has been going off for the last ten minutes to which he had been trying to reason away. The kid was at homecoming. What sort of trouble could he possibly find there?

He thought for a moment.

Tony picked up the phone.

“Stark. Make it quick,” Tony said upon accepting the call.

“Oh my God, it actually worked!” a kid not-quite-whispered on the other end. “I mean, I know he said he worked with you but, like, this really is your number!”

“He’s pranking me, isn’t he?” Tony grumbled to himself. “What’s he doing, giving this out to everyone at homecoming? If you know what’s good for you, kid, you’d hang up and forget this number.”

“Wait! It’s not a prank!” The kid said frantically. “I’m Peter’s chair-man!”

“His what?”

“Chair-man. For his spider-man stuff. You know, the man in the chair? Support guy all heroes and spies have?”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, kid,” Tony said flatly, trying to decide if this conversation was worth continuing.

“It totally is,” the kid insisted. “But that’s not why I called!”

“I should hope not, or else I will be blocking you.”

“Peter found out who that vulture guy is and he’s going after him because the guy’s going after your suits and he said if he doesn’t go after him first you wouldn’t be able to get there in time to stop the bad guy’s from stealing your stuff and-“

“Whoa, slow down there speedy,” Tony said, a sense of dread starting to make itself known. “What’s going on?”

“You know the guy stealing all the alien tech that Peter’s been stopping?”

“The guy that ripped a ferry in half and is the reason I confiscated his suit, yes I’ve heard of him.”

“He’s Peter’s date’s father and he’s going to try and steal your suits during transfer tonight so, well, Peter went to stop them,” the kid said.

“Without his suit?” Tony questioned, freezing in place.

“He has his old one and some spare web shooters so…”

“That thing’s nothing more than a child’s onesie! It’d get torn apart by a stiff breeze!” Tony exclaimed. “Is he trying to get himself killed?”

“He couldn’t just sit by and do nothing.”

“Of course he couldn’t,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “Call him and tell him to go home. I’ll handle this.”

“I can’t. He left his phone in the guy’s car so I can track the location for him,” the kid explained. “I was talking to him through Flash’s phone but he hung up when he got there and…I haven’t been able to get in contact since. He said to only call this number if it was an emergency and if I couldn’t contact Happy. I thought this would count as an emergency so.”

“Send the location to this number,” Tony said, opening his emergency escape hatch so he wouldn’t put another hole in his ceiling once he got his suit on.

“Ok, what are you going to do?”

“Fetch that little shit and make sure he can’t find any more trouble to get himself into,” he stated, before hanging up the phone.

He summoned his suit and immediately shot through the now open hatch.

-

The location that kid gave him was just a pile of sand. According to Friday there was supposed to be a warehouse there, but it wasn’t. Just grey sand.

And no Peter.

Take two then.

“FRIDAY, locate my plane.”

“The tracker shows that your plane is current location is several miles from here, though it seems to have been rendered immobile,” FRIDAY answered immediately.

“That sounds about right,” Tony muttered, shooting up into the sky, getting to the location within barely a minute.

His plane had crashed and the beach was on fire. Why was everything always on fire when the kid was involved?

And, of course, there was still no Peter. The only thing there was a stunned man pinned to a large piece of debris by what looked like a golden spear.

Tony had no idea what was going on, or why there was a gold spear, but he knew who would.

Tony pulled the spear out of the man’s wing-thing and lifted him up into the air by his harness.

“Alright, you’re going to answer my questions and maybe I’ll be nice and not drop you in that ocean over there,” Tony stated, not needed to try very hard to sound intimidating. “Where’s the spiderling?”

“I-I don’t know,” the man stated.

“Do you want to go for a swim? Because it’s sounding like that to me,” Tony threatened. The man stayed silent, sporting an expression that Tony had come to know well. When Tony finally found that brat, they were going to have a long talk and he’d finally find out how he was able to get even his enemies to become protective of him. “You don’t need to protect the kid, not from me. I just need to know he’s ok.”

“He’s not here,” the man finally said.

“Obviously.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened,” he continued. “One moment we were alone at this crash, the next an old man with golden armor shows up and starts ranting about shit. He was going to kill me for hurting the boy, but he, Spider-man, convinced him not to. Then he took Spider-man and left.”

“So, some old man in armor took my intern,” Tony stated, dropping the man onto the sand as cops finally showed up to the scene. “Arrest this man. He tried to steal my shit and crashed my plane.”

Tony waited until the man was in custody before shooting into the air again to search for his intern. While he was up there, he called Vision.

“Vision, help FRIDAY sweep the city for Peter and/or an old man in gold armor,” he said as soon as he picked up. “My kid’s missing and I’ll be damned if I let him stay that way.”

Chapter Text

VISION-2016

Vision phased through the ceiling, landing in the room Tony had recently took over as a base of operations. Said man was pacing around the room, the lower half of his suit still on as he spoke into an outdated flip phone.

“Look, I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important,” he stressed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Some old bastard took my kid three days ago and there’s been no sign of him anywhere.”

There was talk on the other end as Tony spun to pace the other direction.

“No, not my kid. He’s basically an Avenger’s intern. You met him. He’s the brat with the shitty movie references.” Another pause as Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, the spider kid. He’s missing. I’m not involving the police. Are you insane? We’re actually trying to keep his identity a secret over here. Plus, if Ross hears he was involved at all, well, let’s just say it won’t end pretty.”

Tony looked at the ceiling for a moment before pacing back the way he came.

“He never signed the accords. Look, if you want to know more than that, go talk to Nat, I’m sure she’s got every scrap of information on him down to his first-grade report card.” Tony stopped pacing in the center of the room. “All you need to know is that this kid was my responsibility and now he’s missing. I’ll take any help I can get to find him.”

Tony sighed, his posture relaxing ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” he said, sounding somehow tired and heartfelt at the same time. “This means a lot. Let me know if you find anything.”

He snapped the phone shut before dropping it on the large hollo-table in the center of the room.

“Anything?” Tony asked after a second, turning his attention towards Vision.

“Nothing,” Vision said, watching Tony carefully. The man sighed, leaning heavily on the table. “What about you?”

“I got Nat and Steve to use their connections to keep an ear out, but that will only go so far,” Tony stated. “I’m not even sure if calling Cap was worth it but…I had to do something.”

“The more people that know to look, the better our chances are of finding him,” Vision pointed out. “Speaking of, were you able to get ahold of Thor?”

“No,” Tony replied curtly. “I’ve been trying for months now, but the bastard won’t so much as shoot an email back my way. He’s either ignoring me or has completely forgotten my hour-long explanation on how Earth communications work.”

“I’d assume that the latter would be more likely,” Vision said.

“At this point, the only way I’m going to get in contact with him is if he decides to stop by on a whim.”

“Boss, there’s someone at the door requesting your presence,” FRIDAY interrupted gently.

“Tell them I’m busy, FRIDAY. I don’t have time to deal with someone else’s bullshit.”

“Are you sure? The individual happens to be Thor,” FRIDAY asked again, bringing up a view of the front door, where the god stood in a hoodie and jeans.

“Speak of the devil,” Tony muttered, shaking his head. “Fine, let him in. And make sure he gets here without getting lost.”

“Yes, boss.”

It wasn’t very long before the tall Asgardian strode into the room, a grin on his face.

“Ah! Tony Stark, man of Iron! It is glorious to see you once again!” Thor belted out, much to Tony’s apparent ire. Vision was more amused than anything. The Asgardian hadn’t changed much except maybe growing out his hair. “I had stopped by your tower but the lady at the desk said you no longer lived there. In fact, she said you sold it and pointed me here.”

“A lot changed since you disappeared off the map, Thor,” Tony stated shortly. “Maybe if you kept in contact, you’d know all this.”

“But I do have that electronic mail you set up for me,” Thor said. “Couldn’t you have sent one of those?”

“I did,” Tony replied, with a roll of his eyes. “You never replied.”

“I think I would know if I got one of your Earth letters, Stark.”

“Have you even looked at a computer? Or that stark phone I gave you?”

“The strange devise you call a ‘phone’ stopped functioning after two days.”

“Did you charge it?”

“Of course! That was the first thing you told me would need to be done. I took extra care to insure it was sufficiently charged. I even went so far as to use electricity from my hammer. It stopped working after that.”

“You electrocuted the phone. Of course you electrocuted the phone.” Tony rubbed his forehead, obviously trying to wrap his head around it. “We’ll deal with that later. Much later. I’d love to go through all those tedious pleasantries like why you’re showing up now, but I really don’t have the time. Or patience, really. I need your help.”

“What a coincidence, I was hoping for your assistance on a matter as well,” Thor said.

“Mine’s more important,” Tony interrupted before he could continue. “I’ve got this kid, an Avenger’s intern. He got himself into some trouble a few days ago and has been missing ever since. I was hoping your magical bullshit could help find him.”

“I mean, I have some people I could ask. Heimdall is often very good at finding people, but can be cryptic about it at times,” Thor pondered. “What is your apprentice’s name?”

“Peter Parker. Goes by the title Spider-man when he’s, you know, Avengering,” Tony explained. Vision watched as Thor’s demeanor seemed to shift, going from fairly lighthearted to a more serious one.

“Is Peter a common name for this realm?” Thor asked after a moment.

“I don’t know about this ‘realm’, but it’s pretty popular in this country. You can’t go two blocks down the road without running into someone named Peter,” Tony explained. “Why?”

“No reason. I simply knew someone named Peter once. It was quite some time ago, by your standards,” Thor said, an almost sad tone to his voice that Vision took note of. “It just seemed strange to be looking for someone with that name once again. But it is no matter.”

“Ok?”

“I was also looking for an individual and was hoping you would be able to help with this,” Thor said, back to being serious. “A few days ago, I felt a spike in magic. I am not very magically inclined so finding the person that sent it is proving to be difficult.”

“Why do you want to find them?”

“A spike like that only happens when a young sorcerer loses control of their magic due to being in a dangerous situation,” Thor explained. “Now I have no idea who this person would be, someone more sensitive to magic would be able to pick up more from it than I. But it is my responsibility to insure this young sorcerer was able to find safety. They will be weakened for several weeks, if they don’t have somewhere safe to stay during that time, it could mean the difference between life and death for them.”

“How long ago did you sense this ‘magical spike’?” Vision asked, curiosity tickling at his mind. He thought back on the travel inconsistencies of the months prior. How Peter went from Germany to New York in a few hours; hours he seemed to have spent avoiding police or walking the to the compound.

“Approximately three days prior. It was fairly strong; I was on an entirely different continent and still felt it. By the time I got to the location, there was nothing.”

“Well, that certainly makes both tasks a little easier,” Vision stated, feeling more confident in the idea now. “I believe we may be looking for the same individual.”

“Are you suggesting Pete has magic?” Tony question, not at all convinced.

“He has displayed some seemingly impossible feats, including accelerated travel across oceans, finding both of our very secure phone numbers, and a strange sixth sense for danger. It does seem that may be the case,” Vision explained. “There’s also the fact that OSCORP has no record of experiments on spiders, let alone of the radioactive variety. He very well could be using magic and either is not aware of it or is masquerading it as science.”

“Peter being magical is not what I wanted to come out of this meeting,” Tony said with a groan. “And, honestly, I’m not prepared to deal with that right now. Just…find him. If he’s Thor’s magical lost child then whatever. We’ll figure that out later. I just need him found.”

Tony was gone from the room before either could say another word.

“Do you honestly think we are looking for the same child?” Thor asked. Vision could hear the sad tone in his voice yet again.

“It does seem to be the case,” Vision said. “Do you think you may know him?”

“I don’t know. But the Peter I knew was magically inclined as well. I have no doubt he would be able to pull off the feats you just listed. But…” Thor paused, “it just cannot be. It was far too long ago. If my Peter was still alive, he would certainly not be a child anymore.”

ODIN-2016

“You kept him from me,” Odin said. There was no heat in his voice as he watched her fuss over the child. It had been three days since he had brought the boy here and she has barely left his side. He had since been cleaned and clothed using a bit of her magic, his wounds treated by hand since his magic couldn’t heal them in his state. He now took up residence in the spare room she just happened to have set up, rarely left alone, just in case.

Odin refused to admit he was worried for the child but the almost permeant indent in his chair seemed to disagree.

“I did,” Frigga said, tucking in the boy’s blankets for the millionth time that day. It reminded him of when she would care for Loki the few times he was like this. “It was in everyone’s best interest. At the time.”

“He is our grandchild,” he said, his wife interrupting him before he could continue.

“And tell me, husband, would you have treated him as such?” Frigga asked, turning her attention towards him. He could tell she already knew the answer. “Or would you have treated him as Loki’s son, a magical bomb just waiting to go off?”

Odin said nothing, but that seemed to be as much of an answer as Frigga needed.

“Loki feared you would force him to get rid of the child had you known,” Frigga continued. “He also feared what you would do if you hadn’t. You are as much a reason as any that he gave the boy up to mortals.”

Her attention went back to the boy as she brushed a few stray curls out of his face.

 “How old is he?” Odin asked after some time had passed. She smiled lightly.

“A hundred and twenty-six.”

“He looks like he should be older than that.”

“His aging is strange,” she replied with a soft chuckle. “We had thought it was a mortal rate, but seeing him now, it does not appear to be the case.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, Odin trying to figure out how to ask about the child without sounding too eager.

“His name is Peter,” Frigga said, smiling at his antics. “He grew up among magically inclined mortals who taught him what they knew. He likes harmless pranks and watching mortal technology grow more advanced. He wants to be a hero and has been working as one for the last few months, though it has been in a more apprentice type position than strictly on his own.

“His greatest desire is to be with his family, but isn’t sure if he will be able to trust Loki enough to do so. Even so, he’s determined to find him and ask a multitude of questions in order to see if he really is just the villain many paint him to be. To see if it’s worth it to put his trust in the man.”

“How do you know all this about him?” Odin asked, watching as the boy, Peter, stirred briefly.

“Heimdall has seen to it that I’ve been kept informed about my only grandson,” she said, running fingers through his hair. “Just as he saw fit to help me come here.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked.”

Before Odin could ask anything else, Peter’s eyes cracked open to squint blurrily at Frigga. He mumbled something, trying to sit up, but Frigga kept him from doing so with a gentle hand.

“Hush, grandchild. You are safe,” she said softly. “Go back to sleep.”

“’adda go ‘ome,” he muttered, still trying to sit up. Unfortunately for him, he seemed unable to detangle from the blankets let alone his grandmother’s hand. “They’ll worry.”

“You can go back once your magic is at a stable level again,” she said. “How does that sound?”

Peter thought for a long moment before relaxing back into the pillow.

“Ok,” he mumbled, eyes already drooping shut. “’ll need a school pass.”

Frigga chuckled, tucking him in again despite the blankets barely getting wrinkled.

“We can worry about that later.”

“Ok.”

He looked just about to doze off when his face scrunched in confusion. Odin refused to say it made him look exceptionally adorable. But it did make him seem even younger than he was.

“’id you call me grandchild?” he asked, words slurring a bit in his exhaustion.

“Indeed I did,” Frigga said with a fond smile.

“Why?”

“Because you are my grandchild.”

“I don’ have grandparents. No’ really,” Peter said slowly.

“Of course you do, and I happen to be one of them,” she said, before motioning towards her husband. “The other is sitting grumpily over there.”

Tired, green eyes blinked at him slowly. Odin thought the boy tried to wave but with his arms under the blankets, all it did was wiggle them slightly.

Odin didn’t know how to respond to that so he didn’t. Eventually the boy’s attention went back to Frigga.

“I’m tired,” he murmured, his eyes drooping once again.

“That’s alright. You can go to sleep now,” Frigga said. “We’ll make sure you stay safe.”

“You’re not going to leave, right?”

“No, we won’t.”

“Ok.”

A second later, Peter was back asleep.

“He is…interesting,” Odin said slowly. Frigga rolled her eyes.

“And you, my love, are as awkward around him as I feared you would be,” she said, almost teasingly as she straightened his blankets. She placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead before standing.

“I have never had a grandchild before,” Odin grumbled in defense. “I believe I deserve a bit of a reprieve.”

“Of course,” Frigga said, pulling a book out of the nearby nightstand and holding it out to him with it’s cover facing the floor.

“And what is this?” he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Just a little light reading,” she said, a small smile telling him she was up to something. “To ease the boredom of being on ‘watch.’”

Odin took the book tentatively, Frigga kissing his cheek as she headed towards the door.

“I’ll make us some dinner. Let me know if he starts to wake again.”

“Of course.”

“And read the book,” she said, pointing at it. 

Odin watched her leave for a long moment, before turning his attention towards the book. He flipped it up, sighing as he read the title.

Grandparenting for Dummies.

A hint of a smile pulled at his lips as he shook his head. He loved that woman. He didn’t know what he would have done without her had she truly lost her life to those invaders.

Odin flipped the book open to the first page, glancing at the boy asleep nearby. It would be a while before he woke again. He may as well ready the book while he waited.

Chapter Text

TONY

“We’re doing everything in our power to find him, Mrs. Parker,” Tony assured, taking a seat in May Parker’s nicely decorated Livingroom. It was a homey area, decorated with various sentimental pictures and nick knacks. Tony felt very out of his element but refused to show it. That was the trick to being comfortable anywhere, just never let anyone know that you’re not. “He’s my intern, I have a responsibility to find him.”

“Are you sure it’s not because he went missing during his vigilante activities?” May asked plainly, sitting down in the chair across from him. Tony blinked. That was the last thing he expected to hear.

“Pardon?”

“I’m not an idiot, Mr. Stark,” May crossed her arms, giving Tony a stern look. “I know it wasn’t a coincidence that Peter’s very first trip as a Stark intern happened to coincide with Spider-man’s reveal in Germany. Or the fact that Spider-man appears in DC the very weekend Peter is on a school trip. Or that no one has seen either my nephew or your spider in the same number of weeks. So let’s please talk about this plainly. Why are you here?”

“I was hoping you would have some insight on the boy,” Tony said after a moment. He shifted a bit under the woman’s gaze before elaborating. “It has come to my attention that I may not know Peter as well as I thought.”

“Not surprising, only met him a few months ago.”

“Which is usually all I need to get a good read on someone,” Tony stated. “I’m good at reading people. Most of the time.”

“Not my Peter, I can assure you of that,” May said, a small smile on her face. “I’ve known Peter for almost five years and I feal like I hardly know him. He can be very good at keeping things to himself when he wants to be.”

“The way he talks, it sounds like you raised him longer than that,” Tony said slowly.

“No, only since 2013. Ben brought him home from a trip to Nepal and he’s been with us ever since. Well, until Ben died late 2014. Since then, it’s just been me and Peter.”

“Nepal?” Tony asked.

“It’s complicated. And very much a family matter,” May stated.

“If it has even the slightest chance of helping me find Peter then I have to know,” Tony stated. May hesitated. “Please.”

“Ben had a bad car accident a few years before that paralyzed his arm. He couldn’t work and without him working, we were having a hard time paying the bills. He was desperate to move his arm again. He consulted a lot of doctors and they either couldn’t do anything or they were far too expensive for us to afford,” May explained carefully. “He had heard of this place in Nepal that, as long as you were accepted in, you would be healed at no cost. He thought it was worth the risk so he collected what was left of his savings, which was barely enough to cover a single plane ticket there, and left. Three months later he comes back, his arm mobile once again and with Peter in tow.”

“Why?”

“Ben claimed Peter was his nephew, son of a brother whose identity had been hidden because of government business. That when his brother died, he was given custody of a child he hadn’t known exited until that moment,” May explained.

“’Claimed?’”

May sighed, shifting in her chair.

“I knew Ben since we were in middle school. We were high school sweet hearts. I know for a fact he was an only child,” May explained. “All the paperwork is there and checks out. Legally he’s Ben’s nephew. But the two of them never acted like it. They acted more like friends then they did child and guardian.

“I called Ben out on it once. He said it was complicated and I wouldn’t believe it if he told me. It took some additional prying but he eventually said that Peter was looking for something and had needed somewhere to stay while he did.”

“Looking for what?” Tony asked after a moment.

“Ben never said. And I never felt the need to ask Peter,” May smiled to herself briefly before continuing. “I was going to, but…he gets this expression sometimes, like he’s watching the world rush by him at the speed of light, leaving him behind in its wake. Like, in that moment he becomes very aware of how fleeting the word is and…It’s a very lonely expression, Mr. Stark. He needed someone to show him care and affection, if he knew that I was aware we weren’t related, I’m not sure he’d let me continue to do so.”

 “He may,” Tony offered.

“You may be right, but to me, it wasn’t worth the risk,” May stated. Tony nodded. He could see why. “Is there anything else?”

“Do you happen to know some places he may go? Maybe places that are a little out of the ordinary?” Tony said. He wasn’t sure he’d get much of an answer he didn’t know already, but it was worth a shot.

“No, I don’t,” She said. “I know he did have places like that, but I don’t know where. He’d just not be here one moment, and then be here the next.”

“Ok, thank you for your time,” Tony climbed out of his seat and headed towards the door.

“Mr. Stark,” May called. Tony hid a wince as he turned back to look at her. She sounded like Peter when she called him that, which Tony didn’t exactly like. “Promise me you’ll find him.”

“I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise,” Tony offered, leaving through the apartment door without saying another word.

-

PETER

Peter sat in the increasingly familiar bed, picking at the quilt that lay over his legs. He’d woken up a few days ago after apparently sleeping for a week. What he saw upon gaining consciousness was even stranger than that. Grandparents. He had grandparents that had saved him from Mr. Toomes and kept him safe while he recovered.

This was a new experience for him. He’d never had grandparents before. His mortal father’s were long since dead by the time he was born and Loki’s parents, well his scroll made it sound as if they couldn’t be trusted. Peter didn’t quite understand why. His grandmother was really nice, if a little insistent he not leave the bed for anything except a bathroom break.

His grandfather, it was hard to get a read on him. He mostly just sat in the chair reading some book he was hiding the cover of. Peter vaguely remembered him being there to end the fight with Mr. Toomes but that’s really all he knew about him. That being said, he didn’t seem like the man his father’s scroll made him out to be.

“Soooo,” Peter started, trying to get his grandfather’s attention.

“Your grandmother said you are to stay on bedrest for the time being,” Odin said, not looking up from his book. “Therefore bedrest you shall stay.”

“I know that,” Peter rolled his eyes dramatically. Odin finally looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to play checkers.”

“Play checkers?” Odin questioned.

“Yeah, it’s this board game with a checkered board and different colored chips-“

“I know what checkers is,” Odin interrupted softly.

“Cool, do you want to play?”

Odin watched him for a moment, his face slightly scrunched as if he were looking at a difficult puzzle.

“How do you expect to play without a board?” he asked after a moment.

Peter summoned a small travel game set he kept on hand.

“Peter, I told you no magic until you’re recovered!” Frigga called from the other room.

“I was just summoning something I had tethered. It didn’t even use that much!” Peter called back.

“That’s still more magic than you should be using, young man,” she scolded.

Peter pouted, still not used to people being able to just sense him using magic. He could get away with murder at the Sanctums, but here he couldn’t even summon a game without getting caught.

His grandfather watched the exchanged from his chair, a faint air of amusement around him.

“I didn’t think I’d get caught,” Peter grumbled. A small smile flitted across Odin’s face barely visible enough for Peter to notice.

“Your father never thought he would either,” he offered, looking back at his book. “But he always did.”

Peter had a million questions for him. He wanted to know more, more about his father and his family in general. But he wasn’t sure if his grandfather would just answer questions like that. This was the first time Peter had heard him acknowledge Loki since he woke up. He probably wouldn’t get very many answers if he just spewed questions at him like a faucet.

“I still got the checker board in the end,” Peter held up the travel game box, going with his original idea to get to know the man. “Do you want to play?”

Odin looked at him briefly before turning back to his book, flipping back several pages like he was looking for something particular. Eventually the man nodded, closing the book and setting it on a side table.

“Yes, I would,” he answered. Peter grinned at him, setting up the checkers board on the bed while Odin shifted his chair forward.

The two played quietly for a while, the clack of chips moving being the only sound for quite some time.

“Loki said I should be weary of you,” Peter said after a while. Odin paused mid-move before slowly putting the chip where he wanted it to be. “He left me a note and in it, he said one of the reasons he gave me away was because he was afraid of what you would do if you found out about me.”

“With good reason,” Odin said after a moment. Peter blinked, staring at Odin with large eyes. He expected him to deny it, that’s what most people would do when confronted with an accusation like that.

“You seem fine now. You saved me from Vulture,” Peter said slowly.

“The man you see before you now is not the same man you would have met as an infant,” Odin explained. “It is not even the same man you would have met two years ago. Your father was right to tell you to be weary.

“I do not know what I would have done had I learned of your existence from the start,” he admitted. “At that time, I feared the magic your father wields, treating him more like an ticking bomb rather than a son. I doubt I would have treated you any different.”

“But you’re not like that now,” Peter stated again, moving a piece but not paying attention to where.

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for much to change now,” Odin said, studying the board.

“No, it’s not. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“Not for much longer.”

Peter watched him, not even noticing as Odin moved his own chip.

“That’s just something old people say when they don’t know how much time they have left,” Peter countered.

“That is not it,” Odin stated, all pretense of playing the game now gone. “I know exactly how much time I have left, and it is very little.”

“I don’t understand,” Peter said slowly.

“I have been alive for a very, very long time. In that time, I have gained much knowledge, including that of my own death,” Odin explained gently. “In a few weeks, maybe a month, my time will come, and that will be that.”

“But that’s not fair,” Peter said, furrowing his brow as he tried to think through what he had just heard. “I only just met you and now you’re just going to die?”

“That’s probably for the best,” Odin said. “You will have less to be upset about.”

“That’s not how that works,” Peter stated. Odin just smiled a bit.

“It will be my time, that is all,” Odin said simply. “Now, are we still playing this game or is that finished?”

Peter sighed moving a piece, though he didn’t feel much like playing anymore.

“If you would like,” Odin started, almost tentatively, “I can tell you stories of my sons, your father and uncle. They got into some hijinks in their youth that I have a feeling you would be entertained by.”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a hint of a smile. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

TONY

“Alright, everyone here?” Tony asked even as he did his own headcount. Vision, Natasha, Rhodes, and Steve sat at the kitchen table that Tony had decided was their meeting spot for today. He still wasn’t sure if physically bringing Steve to this meeting was a good idea, but it was too late now. Tony would much rather have him here than deal with the fiasco that would be a video call. He was very aware how hackable communication connections were nor was he very keen on talking two of the five other people through the entire thing.

Speaking of the technology inept, he was missing one.

“FRIDAY, where’s Thor?” Tony called to the ceiling.

“Not yet present, boss,” She replied back. “I believe he may be running late.”

“He did get the meeting time, right?”

“Yes, and he did respond that he would be here. Though the text itself seemed to take him a while to send,” FRIDAY responded.

“Did you send him a reminder this morning?”

“Yes. He has yet to respond.”

“Send Thor another message telling him we’re starting without him,” Tony said.

“Yes, boss,” she replied. “I will let you know if I get a response.”

“I swear, if he fried another phone, I’m not replacing it this time,” Tony muttered to himself before turning towards the rest of the group.

“Alright, the meeting for Operation Lost Spider is in session,” Tony stated, leaning back against the island counter instead of joining them at the table. He felt too antsy to sit still right now. Or for the last month, really.

“Did you come up with that on your own?” Rhodey said, obviously trying to lighten the tense mood. He was in his wheelchair at the moment, giving himself a break from the braces. “Because that doesn’t sound like something you’d come up with.”

“Vision did,” Tony nodded the person in question. “Apparently my original title of ‘Operation Where the Fuck is my Intern’ was inappropriate.”

“As was your secondary title of ‘Operation Just find the Fucking Child,’” Vision added.

“Yeah, those sound like yours,” Rhodey stated with a nod.

“With the pleasantries out of the way, can we please get started?” Tony stated, tapping his fingers on the counter impatiently. “Has anyone found anything since last time?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Vision said shaking his head. “The last time Peter Parker was seen, he was leaving his homecoming dance soon after arrival. The last time Spiderman was seen was at the crash site.”

“Rhodey, what about the military? Have they heard anything?”

“Nothing,” Rhodes stated. “I’ve asked around as much as I can without causing suspicion, and kept my ear out. There has been no word about spider themed heroes since his disappearance.”

“My contacts have nothing as well,” Steve explained.

“The only thing I’ve dug up is things you don’t want to hear,” Natasha stated, giving Tony a flat look.

“I don’t need to know about weird bullshit you found in his past, I just need to know where he is now,” Tony stated.

“He could be a spy,” Natasha pushed. “His documentation is sketchy enough for it.”

“If he is, I’ll deal with that after I find him,” Tony shot back.

The group all shared a look that Tony couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Tony,” Rhodes started cautiously, “It’s been a month since he went missing. That is an awfully long time to be missing for.”

Tony watched them critically, having a feeling where this was going.

“I was missing for three months and you didn’t stop looking for me, I’m certainly not giving up on Peter after only one,” he said firmly, straightening up off the island to pace the room. “Now, let’s come up with some new strategies. Maybe there’s something we haven’t tried, or someplace we haven’t looked. Just something.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said softly. But Tony didn’t want to hear it.

“No. Shut up. I’m not giving up on him,” he said, swinging around to point at the group. “He was my responsibility. He went missing on my watch. There’s no way in hell I’m not-“

“Mr. Stark, I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat?”

“Check the fridge,” Tony answered immediately, before returning to what he was saying. “So, there’s no way in hell you’re going to convince me I won’t find this…kid.”

No one was looking at Tony anymore. Instead, everyone had locked eyes with something behind him with a variety of confused and surprised expressions. It took Tony another long moment to realize why.

He spun around, finding a familiar mop of brown hair rummaging through his leftovers. The teenager pulled out a Tupperware container of sandwiches, eyeing it suspiciously as he turned towards them.

It was Peter, and he looked…fine. Better than fine, really. He looked no different than the child he had last seen a month ago. He was wearing some clothes he kept here for interning weekends, a red shirt that said ‘web designer’ and some spider themed pajama pants.

“When’s the last time you had your fridge cleaned out?” Peter asked, seemingly not noticing the multiple gazes drilling holes into him. “I’m pretty sure ham sandwiches aren’t supposed to be this green. Or at all really. Maybe in that Dr. Suess book but not-“

Before Peter could fully start whatever rambling he was getting to, Tony all but hurtled the island countertop and pulled him into a desperate hug. The Tupperware container clattered to the floor, Peter standing there in shock for a moment before eventually returning the hug.

“Uh, ok. Hi?” Peter said awkwardly. “Um…I missed you too?”

“Where have you been!?” Tony demanded, pulling the kid away to look at him at arm’s length. There were no new scars or missing limbs. His hair wasn’t even longer, which it probably should have been after a month.

“I was staying with my grandparents,” Peter answered, almost questioningly. “I didn’t think I needed permission to spend time with family.”

“Spending time with family is one thing, disappearing for a month with no way of knowing where you are, is another,” Tony stated. Peter blinked at him in shock.

“I was gone a month?”

Tony pause, seeing the genuine confusion on the kid’s face. Maybe he just didn’t know he was gone that long? Like he was passed out of most of it or-

“I thought it was like, three weeks, tops.”

Nevermind.

“That doesn’t make it better!” Tony exclaimed. “Do you know how many favors I called in trying to find you? You could have called or let us know you were alright!”

“They didn’t have a phone,” he stated with a shrug.

“Who doesn’t have a phone?!”

“My grandparents?” He said, giving him an odd look. “I just said that. My grandparents don’t have a phone. And I lost my phone tracking Vulture down. And my borrowed phone was…well, it got lost too.”

“And in the last month you couldn’t find some way of contacting me? Or hell, even just contacting your aunt. She was worried sick over you too,” Tony paused, a thought coming to mind. “Wait, does your aunt even know about these grandparents?”

“Well…”

“That’s a no,” Tony sighed, rubbing at his forehead and started pacing the room again as he muttered to himself. “He answers one question and ten more pop up.”

“Mr. Stark? About your Dr. Seuss sandwiches,” Peter started having picked up the container again. “Are you sure there’s actually food in your fridge?”

“FRIDAY, order some sort of take-out for the kid. I’m not going to have him starve to death while we try to figure out what’s going on,” Tony stated. “Hell, order some for me too. I don’t care what. I have the feeling it’s going to be a long night and I don’t feel much like cooking.”

“You cook?” Peter asked skeptically.

Tony ignored him.

“Hey, which of you chuckleheads are staying for this whole thing?” he asked, turning towards the suspiciously quiet table of onlookers. All hands were raised. “That’s what I thought. FRIDAY, tack on something for the peanut gallery.”

“Right away, boss,” FRIDAY answered immediately.

“Thank you, FRIDAY!” Peter called towards the ceiling.

“You’re very welcome, Peter.”

-

This kid was trying to give him a heart attack.

Either that or a really bad migraine. Tony almost wished he hadn’t given up drinking because he could probably use a few shots right now.

“So, let me get this straight,” Tony said, running a hand through his hair as he tried to wrap his head around it all. Peter sat at the other end of the table, seemingly oblivious to the stress he was putting on Tony. He had already polished off his chosen pizza from the stack FRIDAY ordered and was currently picking at Tony’s untouched one. The others watched the exchange carefully, occasionally popping their own question into the mix, but otherwise stayed silent.

“My plane crashed. Which your grandpa picked you up from. A grandparent, mind you, that you didn’t even realize you had until that moment. And you just, went with him?”

“I mean there was a little more unconsciousness and fire involved, but yeah, that’s about it,” Peter said with a shrug. He took a bite of a stolen pizza slice, apparently not seeing anything wrong with this.

“So you stayed with them. For a month. People you didn’t know before that exact moment. Do you see what’s wrong here?”

“No?” Peter said around the bite of food

“How did you even know they were telling the truth about you being their grandchild?!”

“Because they were?” Peter said once his mouth was no longer full. “It’s not rocket science. Theoretically, I knew I had grandparents out there. I just didn’t know they would, you know, recognize me as such.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Just because I was young when I went to live with my Aunt May doesn’t mean I don’t remember my life before that,” Peter said. “For instance, I remember that my paternal grandparents were dead before I was born, also I pretty sure they disowned my dad but that’s another issue entirely. My, I guess we can say, maternal grandparents, I knew to be alive. But their relationship with their children had been strained to the point where they didn’t entirely know I existed. So yeah, grandparents showing up was as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”

“And your Aunt May didn’t know any of this,” Tony said, not bothering to phrase it as a question. There was something odd about this whole story that didn’t quite line up. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.

“How could she? She never knew my parents so she definitely wouldn’t have known my grandparents,” Peter answered, motioning with his pizza before going to take another bite.

“Where does magic fit into all this?” Vision asked. Peter paused mid bite, a blank expression on his face.

Right, that’s what wasn’t adding up. The magic aspect.

“Magic?” Peter asked slowly.

“Yeah. It fits in to all of this somehow, right? How?” Tony added.

“Why would you think magic was involved?”

Tony was about to list off the grocery list of reasons magic had to be involved when the kitchen door flew open, revealing a grinning idiot. An exceptionally late, grinning idiot.

“You’re late,” Tony accused, shooting a dirty look at the blond.

“I apologize for my tardiness, I hadn’t realized Midgardian time zones could be so varied,” Thor said as he entered the room. He was dressed in, what Thor liked to call, ‘Midgardian attire.’ Basically, a plain hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, his hammer tied to his belt loop like an oversized set of keys. “Did I miss the meeting?”

“No, it’s been extended for…various reasons,” Tony said with a sigh. “You may as well sit down, this could be a-“

A small flash of light caught the corner of his eyes, stopping him in his tracks. Tony spun towards it only to find Peter gone, an even smaller child having taken his place.

The boy couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, ashy brown curls framing piercing green eyes that were wide with shock. He had Peter’s pajamas on and his half-eaten slice of pizza halfway towards his own mouth. Like Peter had been replaced by this child in the few seconds it took for Thor to walk into the room.

Tony didn’t even have time to question where his intern was now before all hell broke loose.

Chapter Text

PETER

Natasha and Rhodes had weapons in their hands almost as quickly as Steven and Vision took them away. But Peter barely noticed. He was only about as aware of it as he was that he had dropped his Parker form, which was filed under a faint annoyance at how low his magic levels still were.

Most of his attention was on Thor.

Thor. His uncle. One of the two men that he had been searching for for the last decade, at least. He was right there standing in the doorway, looking as shocked as Peter felt.

Finally finding Thor after so long felt different than meeting his grandparents; Peter had about a week of in and out consciousness to get used to them before he was awake enough to recognize what their presents meant. But Thor, he appeared out of nowhere. And Peter…well, he didn’t know what to do. He certainly didn’t know what Thor would do. Would he even recognize him?

“Everyone stop! He’s not a threat!” Steve said, tossing the pistol he took from Natasha so he could grab the second she was pulling out of thin air. “I know him. It’s a little hard to explain but he’s-“

“MY NEPHEW!” Thor yelled, pure joy in his voice as he rushed forward and pulled Peter out of his chair and into a bone crushing hug, his pizza disappearing somewhere into the room.

Peter guessed that answered whether Thor would recognize him.

“Of course it was you!” Thor exclaimed happily, “When Stark told me of his lost apprentice who may have magic, I hadn’t dared to hope, but here you are!”

Thor held Peter out in front of him like one would lift a cat, his feet dangling two feet above the ground. Peter could only blink at the grinning man in front of him.

“Look at you! You’re still so small! Certainly not the old man your father expected you to be at this age,” Thor said proudly.

“I age slower than humans,” Peter said out of habit.

“So I see,” Thor’s excited grin shifted slowly to a fond smile. “I imagine that had to be hard for you, seeing everyone else age at a rate you do not. But I cannot say I am not happy that this is the case. After all, it means I have that much more time to spend with you, to make up for the time we lost up until now. If you’ll let me, that is. A hundred years is such a long time here, and I would understand if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Peter’s shock wore off quickly, letting loose a tidal wave of other emotions that he just couldn’t process all at once. Too much had happened recently for him to just brush this off until later. The building, Vulture, his grandparents, even Tony actually being concerned about him, it all felt like he built a block tower too tall with Thor being the block to send it crashing down.

A sob broke free as he wrapped his arms around Thor’s neck, hiding his face against the man’s shoulder. He didn’t question if Thor had brought him closer again or if he had somehow managed that himself. Instead he gripped his uncle’s hoody like a lifeline, trying to fight the tears already streaming down his face.

“This all must be so overwhelming to you,” Thor said quietly to him, holding Peter close as he rubbed his back in comforting circles. “Especially after all you’ve been through earlier this month. But you are safe now. It is alright to cry.”

And cry Peter did.

Peter didn’t know how long he cried. It had to have been a while considering Thor had sat down in Peter’s char at some point during it. The others talked quietly amongst themselves, trying to give him some space it was clear he needed. As the tears finally slowed, Peter glanced around the room.

Natasha still looked suspicious but at least her and Rhodes weren’t still pulling out weapons to aim at him. Rhodes and Steve looked more worried than anything, occasionally shooting a glance at him to check on him. Vision barely looked phased as he set down a cup of water for Peter. He sent Vision a thankful smile as he grabbed the cup.

Tony, on the other hand, was tense. He looked everywhere but at Peter, who tried not to take it personally. The man was allergic to emotions; honestly Peter was still surprised he got that hug from him earlier.

“All I’m saying is that he’s a good kid,” Steve was explaining to the group, obviously talking about Peter.

Peter took a sip of his water, listening to the group.

“A kid you found in a Nazi base and has used magic powers to break into Wakanda. Repeatedly,” Natasha argued back. “That’s more than a bit suspicious.”

“It’s barely considered breaking in anymore,” Steve said with a shrug. “He’s got permission to be there now.”

“Permission as in they want him there, or permission because they can’t keep him out?”

“Probably a little of both at this point,” Steve answered after a moment. “He’s friends with Princess Shuri so even if they had a way of keeping him out, they probably wouldn’t.”

“So they’re just letting a hundred year old child wander around their very restrictive city?”

“A hundred and twenty-six,” Peter corrected, taking a sip of water as everyone’s attention snapped onto him.

He was aware he should probably find his own seat at some point but he’d rather not right now. At least with Peter sitting in his lap, Thor couldn’t leave again. Not that he thought he would but, just like the hand he still had gripping the man’s hoodie, it was a nice reassurance. He glanced at Thor, finding the man sending him a happy, reassuring grin. Somehow Peter didn’t think his uncle minded all that much.

“You’re a hundred and twenty-six years old,” Tony said slowly, finally looking towards Peter again. Peter nodded. “Then why do you look like you’re ten. If that’s even your real form.”

“It is,” Peter said awkwardly, “And I don’t look ten, I look twelve and a half.”

“Oddly specific of you.”

“If it took you ten years to look one year older, you’d count the halves too.”

“Another question, Where’s my intern?” Tony asked. Peter stared at him, unsure what he meant. “My intern, the one you were impersonating. Peter Parker. Where is he?”

“Right here?” Peter answered, still very confused. “Peter Parker has always been me. I’m just not always Peter Parker.”

“You.”

“Me.”

“You’re my intern.”

“Yes,” Peter said, patronizingly slow.

There was silence as Tony seemed to sort through the information he was given.

“So you’re telling me,” Tony said, somehow even slower, “That I haven’t been letting a teenager run around NYC, fighting crime, I’ve been letting a fucking twelve-year-old do it?!”

“I’m a hundred and twenty-six!” Peter exclaimed, defending himself. “I’m older than everyone in this room!”

“Except me,” Thor stated, holding a finger up.

“Except Thor,” Peter amended. “I think I deserve a little more credit than that.”

“But are you the mental equivalent of a hundred-year-old individual?”

“I like to think I am,” Peter muttered. Tony turned towards Steve, expecting a better answer.

“No, he’s definitely a twelve-year-old mentally. Just, you know, one with a hundred yearlong childhood.”

“A Twelve-year-old. Fighting crime. And I let him!” Tony exclaimed again. He started pacing again in front of the island. “Rhodey, I’m going to hell for this, aren’t I?”

“I mean, probably. Among other things, I’m sure.”

“This is what you’re focusing on?” Natasha asked, getting everyone’s attention once again. “It was just revealed that he’s been hiding his identity and using his connection to you for who knows what, and you want to focus on his age.”

“I’m getting there, Nat, hold your horses,” Tony stated before pointing at Peter. “You’re never getting that suit back, kid.”

“Why not?!” Peter exclaimed. “You said I could have it back in a few years!”

“That was before I found out you’re an immortal twelve-year-old!”

“I’m not immortally twelve! I am growing!”

“Yes and it will be, what, fifty sum-odd years until you get to adult age.”

“Fifty-four,” Peter muttered.

“Yeah, you’ll get that suit back when you’re a hundred and eighty, and not a second sooner,” Tony stated, finger in the air. “That is really weird to say.”

“Sounds weird to say,” Rhodes commented. “I don’t know what’s weirder, hearing that or hearing what’s apparently your parent voice for the first time in my life.”

“You get used to it,” Steve said with a sigh. “The weird time thing, not Tony’s parent voice. That’s just odd.”

“We shouldn’t be getting used to anything,” Natasha started, sending Steve a glare before turning to Tony. “Stop playing house and start dealing with this properly.”

“I am!”

“He’s a breach of security. Your security.”

“So are you. So is Steve. Hell, everyone here is a breach of security other than myself and you don’t see me bitching about it,” Tony responded, waving a hand dismissively. Natasha glared at him but Tony was already shifting focus onto Peter. “There is one thing I very much want to know.”

Peter stalled by taking a sip of water. Tony had been…oddly alright with all of this so far but he had a feeling he knew where this next question was going and, well, it would definitely test how alright he really was.

“Thor, you said he was your nephew, right? I didn’t mishear that shout?”

“Yes! Peter is my one and only nephew,” Thor answered happily, sending a grin down to Peter.

“Like nephew because they’re your sibling’s kid or like you’re his honorary uncle because you’re really good friends with his parents.”

“You can be an honorary uncle?” Thor asked, sounding confused and somehow excited.

“I’ll take that as an ‘sibling’s kid’ kind of uncle,” Tony stated with a sigh.

“Honorary uncle sounds like a great title, I wish to be one!” Thor exclaimed happily.

“Yeah, get in line buddy,” Rhodes said. “If Tony ever has a kid, one that’s somehow not already related to you, then I’ll fight you for the title. You know, like at rock-paper-scissors or something. Not actual combat, for sure.”

“I do not know how one fights with rocks, papers, or scissors but I will happily duel you for that title when the time comes,” Thor said happily.

“Thor, focus. I have one more, very important part of this question,” Tony stated, sounding very serious. He paused, making sure he had the larger man’s attention. “Please, for the love of all things holy, tell me you have a second sibling we don’t know about.”

“No, as far as I’m aware I do not,” Thor answered. “My only sibling is Loki.”

Silence settled in the room like a heavy blanket as everyone put together the pieces to the puzzle. This was the part Peter was unsure of. He knew how much Loki had affected them, as a group and as people. Peter was well aware that Tony in particular still had nightmares about the invasion and Loki’s uses for magic.

“Peter is Loki’s son,” Vision summed up after a minute or so. He had been quietly observing until now. “Judging by your conversation earlier, is it correct to assume his mother was human?”

“Father, actually,” Peter corrected quietly. “My father was a mortal named Theo Bell. Biologically speaking, Loki was my mother.”

The room was silent again so Peter continued.

“I mean, I usually refer to Loki as my father since, from what I understand, he more commonly presents as male. But he was female when I was born and did carry and give birth to me so yeah,” Peter rambled. “Shapeshifting is weird.”

“I…cannot except that shapeshifting is that powerful.”

“Shapeshifting isn’t just making yourself look like something else, it’s making yourself become something else,” Peter explained with a roll of his eyes. “If it was any less powerful than that you would have found me out ages ago. Also, like, have you seen Nortic mythology? Specifically that one about Sleipnir, Odin’s eight legged horse and how he came to be born?”

“Is that real?!”

“I have no idea. But shapeshifting wise, totally could happen.”

Peter could pinpoint the exact second Tony’s brain was done accepting new information. It was marked with a slow blink and followed by Tony up and walking out of the kitchen.

“Tony! We’re not done here!” Natasha called after him. Tony yelled a few choice swear words back at her and slamming a door in the next room.

“Is he mad at me?” Peter asked, hearing a few more doors slam as he moved farther away.

“I think he’s overwhelmed right now,” Steve said slowly. “I think we all are. So maybe picking this up tomorrow would be in everyone’s best interest.”

“Steve, he’s-“ Natasha started only for Steve to cut her off.

“Still Peter. He’s still the same kid that’s been protecting New York City every night, and helping keep Tony busy,” Steve explained. “He just happens to also be the same kid that likes to open portals to Wakanda and magically steal fruit. That being said, I still vouch for him.”

“Fine, but if something happens, it’s on you,” Natasha said, pointing at Steve before also leaving the room.

“Sooo…” Peter said slowly. “Anyone want to take bets on how long it takes Tony to leave his lab?”

“Three days, minimum,” Rhodes said with a nod.

“I don’t know, I think this may be at least five days,” Vision mused.

“If it’s over a week, I’ll call Pepper to drag his ass out,” Rhodes said with a sigh.