Chapter Text
While outside the building, out in the open field between the hangar and the gate, the battle was still raging, Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and led him to a car parked in such a way that it blocked passage for everyone else. Following Tony, Peter glanced back over his shoulder at the Avengers, caught in the whirlwind of the fight, tossing their enemies to the ground like rag dolls.
Natasha spun the silver hunting knife’s hilt in her right hand before throwing it straight into the carotid artery of one of Martin’s gang members. The man collapsed, with no chance of survival, desperately trying to draw one last breath before he died. Natasha didn’t even bother checking if she’d hit her mark—she was sure of her skills, and in the time it would have taken to look back, she had already taken down two more.
Steve, dressed in his patriotically themed outfit—hilariously unsuited for the situation—was hurling his shield with such force that it pierced through concrete walls. Well, there were only three holes in the walls; the rest of the throws were so accurate that fifteen mafia members lay dead, with shattered ribs and crushed chests.
Clint had climbed a watchtower, from which he fired arrows in every direction. Halfway through the battle, he decided the height wasn’t enough and climbed even higher, onto the roof, firing from afar until he ran out of arrows. Then, he switched to hand-to-hand combat, and the number of bodies piling up around him was second only to Natasha’s.
Rhodey and Sam attacked from the air, grabbing enemies, lifting them high into the sky, and dropping them to their certain death. Or, they used repulsors from the latest Stark Industries models—which was more humane, but far less fun for them.
And then there was Bucky. There were no words for him. He showed up halfway through the fight, skipping the grand entrance, wearing a Hawaiian shirt with palm trees and pink sunglasses perched on his nose. Keep in mind—it was winter. He sat in a foldable camping chair in the middle of the battlefield, opening a magazine and solving the crossword on the back page. On the grass, leaning against the metal leg of the chair, was a half-empty can of soda, which he reached for every five minutes. His metal arm did all the work—choking out anyone who dared disturb his peace. As he strangled and tossed aside enemies, he didn’t look up even once.
In short, the Avengers had the situation under control. Asking whether they needed help was as useful as asking a millionaire if he needed financial support. Tony estimated the fight would last ten more minutes at most.
Without waiting for anyone else, Tony led Peter to the vehicle, inviting him into the back seat of his sleek black car. Peter took the left seat, Tony the right, and Happy was the driver. He nodded to Peter in the rearview mirror in greeting.
“I’m proud of you, Pete,” Tony said as they buckled in and the car started moving. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder again, expressing his approval. “You did amazing. I can’t even begin to say how much you impressed me.”
Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, bulging slightly until he caught himself and returned to a blank expression.
“Thank you, Tony. Honestly, I was scared when I came into your office, thinking you might actually kick me out. The fact that we had to pretend, act in front of everyone, was nothing compared to the trouble I’d be in if I really had to go back to the streets.”
“I’m sorry John and Martin forced us into that. I promise, no more pretending from now on. You’re staying in our home for good. You’ll continue school, spend time with family.”
Peter looked at Tony and clenched his teeth.
“With family... Why does that word feel so unreal?”
Tony reached out and ran a hand through Peter’s hair, calming them both.
“How else would you describe people who protect each other with their lives, care for one another, and love each other?”
Peter smiled, picturing himself happy in the tower, surrounded by people who enjoyed his presence and expected nothing in return. Why him? Out of all the homeless kids, why was he the one getting a loving home and a family?
“There’s one more thing,” Peter said, nestled against Tony’s chest, as Tony’s arms held him tightly.
“Hm?” Tony asked, resting his cheek on the top of Peter’s head, ready to listen and grant the boy’s every wish.
“I’d like to help find loving homes for the other homeless kids from Queens.”
“Anything you want,” Tony smiled and would’ve hugged his kid tighter—if he weren’t already holding him with all his strength.
***
“Peter, sweetie!” Pepper called out as she saw Peter entering the house with Tony at his side.
She bent her knees slightly to be closer to his height and hugged him tightly with her arms.
“And Tony,” Tony added in a jealous tone, making it clear he was teasing.
“I’m so happy you’re finally with us!” Pepper ignored Tony and held Peter close.
Tony smiled softly and walked deeper into the house, leaving Pepper and Peter alone, because if anyone had things to clear up—it was the two of them. Peter had already learned from Tony that Pepper hadn’t actually betrayed her husband, and the lie had only been a way to protect sensitive information in case Peter turned out not to be trustworthy.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that because of me,” Pepper said. For some reason, her embrace soothed all of Peter’s worries and was calming in and of itself. To him, she didn’t even need to say anything—he had nothing to forgive her for, as she hadn’t truly hurt him in any way. “Lying to you was so hard and awful. I’ll understand if you don’t want to…”
Peter cut her off by hugging her even tighter.
“It’s okay. It was the only way. I’m glad you agreed, because that’s how we dealt with Martin once and for all.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Pepper murmured in relief, grateful for his understanding—that he didn’t hate her.
“I think it’s been an exhausting time for all of us. We deserve a long rest,” Tony added, wrapping his arms around the two most important people in his life.
“No more stunts like that.”
“Promise.”
“And now…” Tony stepped back and clapped his hands. “While the rest of the Avengers are cleaning up the mess, it’s time to rebuild our bonds. You—” he pointed at Peter, “upstairs, grab three blankets.” Peter saluted and happily ran off to complete the task. Tony turned to Pepper. “Pep, I’m too scared of you to give you orders—so just sit back and relax.”
Pepper laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched Tony rush to the kitchen and return a minute later with a bowl of popcorn.
“FRI, play a movie.”
And just like that, Peter sat between Pepper and Tony, enjoying a film and their company. If every day of Peter’s life could be like this, he would die happy.