Prompt (from StarkGirl on FFN): hurt Peter and overprotective Tony

Prompt (from Raven/watermagic on Quotev): tony taking care of a sick/injured Peter is the cutest thing

Prompt (from Simran Gupta on AO3): Natasha finds out Peter's identity and some of their bonding

Okay. I know I don't have a large platform, but I still have a platform, so I'm going to use it: Black Lives Matter. There should be nothing controversial about this statement. If you don't agree with it, I encourage you to check your privilege. If you still don't understand, stop reading my stories now because you are not the audience I write for.

So, I don't want to ask that people donate, because I know that there are many factors influencing financial situations at the moment (including but not limited to the covid-19 pandemic), but I encourage you to sign petitions (texting JUSTICE/ENOUGH/FLOYD to 55156 is a good way to start) and to continue educating yourself on the situation at hand as well as on structural racism - especially if you are white and American. If you can donate, by all means do. If you can't, consider watching videos on YouTube where all ad revenue goes to support Black Lives Matter (ex. search "Zoe Amira"). I myself am trying to learn how to better be an ally and address the white privilege I know I experience in my life. It is not enough to "not be racist". We must be anti-racist. I will never understand what it is like to be black, but I do understand that silence is violence, which is why I'm including this note here. I might only be a teenager, but I want to do whatever I can to help.

If you'd like more resources, feel free to message me on Tumblr thinkingisadangerouspastime (or just scroll through my recent posts [ignoring queued ones] and/or my "ref" tag). A basic Google search should also turn up a bunch of information/resources, too. The best time to start learning about and fighting against white supremacy and systemic oppression was hundreds of years ago. The second best time is now. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

A couple other notes regarding the story itself:

1. This takes place probably a few months after the end of "There's a Fine, Fine Line", and while one day I'd absolutely love to write a full story detailing Flash's path to redemption and becoming a part of Peter's friend group, I know that's not something I can take on right now, so you just gotta trust Peter's narration that Flash has gotten better. :P

2. I enjoyed Betty Brant in FFH and I think she would have a delightful dynamic with MJ had the MCU chosen to allow them to actuallyinteract besides sitting next to each other on the plane for five minutes, so look forward to that.

3. There is a gratuitous M*A*S*H reference in this fic solely because I adore one (1) Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce, so. :D

4. I'm pretty sure I stretched the limits of what Peter's spidey sense is capable of, so forgive me if I like, totally misrepresented it. It was for the sake of plot!

5. Speaking of the plot, don't judge the "villains" and their "schemes" too harshly please lol. This is the first fully action-based story I think I've ever written (I'm very much a 'slice of life' and 'character introspection' kind of gal). That said, I had a ton of fun writing this, so maybe I'll try out more action/adventure stuff in the future!

xXxXxXx

Flash: congratulations, losers. if you're in this groupchat, you are cordially invited to my unbirthday bash tonight. 7 pm to whenever you wanna leave bc my parents aren't gonna be home until tomorrow evening

Peter snorted as Flash followed his text with a series of clown emojis. Ever since their run-in at the SI event, Flash had been much nicer to… well, everyone, but he seemed to put in extra effort with being nicer to Peter specifically. That didn't mean all the sarcastic quips and snide comments had stopped, of course, but it was clear that he was making an effort to change. Which Peter greatly appreciated, even if he had no clue what had sparked this transformation.

As a result, over the past few months, Flash had become a… well, 'friend' was the only word for it, really. Sure, Flash probably wasn't necessarily the first person he'd choose to go to the movies with and stuff, but their relationship wasn't so impersonal as to be mere acquaintances. And Peter would be lying if he said being friends with Flash wasn't easier than dealing with a one-sided rivalry - one-sided never on his part, for that matter.

Flash had also merged pretty quickly into his friend group, which was both surprising and relieving. MJ, perhaps most shockingly, had been the one most willing to give him a chance. Peter knew her well enough to recognize that some of her barbed snipes at Flash were actually intended to help him, be it making him aware of when he was slipping back into his former obnoxious persona or reminding him in a not-so-gentle way that he didn't have to put on such airs around them.

She was so cool.

MJ: so what im understanding is that your parents are almost as dickish as you

Flash: ha ha. very wity of you

Flash: I MEAN WITTY MJ DONT CORRECT ME

MJ: lol didn't need to. also *meant

Flash: oh whatever. so you'll be there

MJ: obviously

Their relationship had transformed into the most perfect example of frenemies Peter had ever witnessed in his life. It was the funniest thing in the world.

Betty: omg i have been DYING to get out of my house for ages. count me in!

Betty: ooh i'll bring some snacks too

MJ: this is why Betty is the superior human in this chat

MJ and Betty's friendship was… well, he was tempted to call it a strange one, but that just felt rude. Still, the two were polar opposites. Like, complete end-of-the-spectrum opposites. Betty owned every pastel article of clothing possible, while MJ's closet was an entirely neutral and arguably more 'grunge' palette. Betty got nauseous at the mere mention of violence, compared to MJ, who was a true crime fanatic, with an eerie interest in the more gruesome crimes. Betty knew everything about the most popular trends of the week, while MJ had once said she'd rather die than listen to Billie Eilish. A joke, but Betty had been horrified. And, perhaps Peter's favorite difference between them because of how literally it demonstrated their opposite-ness, Betty preferred her coffee to be basically half cream and sugar versus MJ, who insisted her body physically could not handle anything sweeter than plain black coffee.

Despite all this, the two got along like a house on fire, sometimes even better than he and Ned did. Which was weird to think about.

Betty: aww ty

Ned: i almost started to argue but then i realized you're right. so

Ned: anyways i'm totally coming! my mom has a date with eleanor tonight so she won't mind

MJ: lol can y'all believe ned's mom gets more action than flash

Flash: i swear to god

Flash: shut up or you're uninvited

Peter tried not to laugh too loudly at his friends' messages, though he knew he fell short on that attempt. His snickering was clearly audible. Tony, who was sitting in a chair next to the couch Peter was lounging on and absentmindedly flipping through a magazine, gave him an amused look but didn't comment.

Flash: so you're all spending the night

Ned: oui

Flash: ned we know you don't know french stop trying

Ned: im learning! gradually

Flash: parker i can tell you read these messeges

Flash: messages

Flash: are you coming or not

Peter: hang on lemme ask mr. stark

MJ: yes peter ask your father

Peter rolled his eyes at the text but smiled. "Hey, Mr. Stark," he said, turning his phone off for the time being. "Can I go to a slumber party at Flash's tonight? At 7?" 'Slumber party' made it sound like he was 13 years old again, but he didn't really know what else to call it.

Tony frowned at him, though Peter had known his mentor long enough now that he recognized the sternness in his gaze was all show. "At 7? Mr. Parker, this is pretty last-minute notice. I doubt your aunt would approve."

"Pff. Come on, Mr. Stark. May loves it when I hang out with my friends." This was very true. She often cited him as having 'too lonely' a childhood, and was pleased at how his friend group had expanded upon entering high school. "Besides, it's a special occasion." He grinned at the man. "It's Flash's unbirthday."

Tony snorted. "Well, if it's a monumental event like that, I don't see how I can refuse."

"You're the best, Mr. Stark!" Peter grabbed his phone to text his friends that he'd be going.

"Go start packing," Tony instructed, glancing at his watch. "We can leave in about a half hour if you don't take too long. I'll drive you there."

Peter froze, thumbs hovering over his phone and his message in the group chat only halfway typed out. "Mr. Stark, you don't need to bring me," he protested. Yeah, it was common knowledge now that he was currently staying with Tony Stark - at least amongst his friends - but it was nonetheless still a teeny bit mortifying to be out in public with him. Because… because he was Iron Man, duh. And Peter was, for all intents and purposes, just Peter.

And hopefully no one - no one else - would ever find out otherwise.

"Well, I don't know how else you plan to get there. I gave Happy the night off and you currently don't have a license - God help us all when you do get one - so I am currently the only person available to drive you."

"I mean, I could…" Peter struggled to find an alternative. He'd feel bad asking one of his friends to come pick him up, because Stark Tower was pretty out of the way for all of them. "Swing there?"

Tony gave him a dubious look. "Right." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You may be a genius, kid, but sometimes I worry about how much common sense you have. Or don't have."

Peter snickered. "May says that, too."

"And I find myself frequently saying the same thing about Tony, so he may be a bit hypocritical for trying to pull that card on you."

Peter sat up on the couch to see that Pepper had entered the room, still dressed in her white pantsuit from working with SI business all day. For some reason his gaze was drawn to the way she was holding her clipboard close to her body, the angle at which she had it positioned blocking a visual of her entire right side. Peter wasn't really sure why this had caught his attention, but maybe… no. She seemed fine. He must have been imagining things. "Hi, Ms. Potts!"

"Hey, Peter," she said, giving him a soft smile. "Do you mind stepping out of the room for a moment? I need to talk to Tony about some confidential SI business."

A familiar tingle began crawling down the back of Peter's neck. She was hiding something. Or… something felt off, at least. But it was clear it didn't concern him. Maybe he could weasel the information out of Tony later. "Sure!" he said, standing up and plastering on what he hoped was a cheery, innocent smile. "I need to pack for tonight, anyways." He waved as he walked past her into the elevator, not failing to notice how she shifted slightly to her left as he did so.

Well… whatever was going on, he hoped it wasn't too serious.

"To your room, Peter?" FRIDAY asked him after the elevator doors had slid shut.

"Yep. Thank you, FRIDAY." His room was only two floors up, but he couldn't suppress his grin as FRIDAY put on the elevator playlist he'd created a few days ago.

"Would you prefer a different song than 'I'll Make a Man Out of You'?" FRIDAY asked. "I would be happy to change it if that is the case, Peter."

He laughed, shaking his head. "No, FRI. It's fine. We're almost to my floor." As if on cue, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

"By the way, Peter," FRIDAY continued as he stepped out and began heading towards his room. If an AI could sound amused, then that was about how he'd describe her tone. "I would recommend checking your phone soon."

Well, he'd be a fool not to listen to a near-omniscient supercomputer.

9 unread messages in "hoes, bros, and foes"

Oops. He'd never actually sent the message in the group chat that he'd be going to the party, had he?

Ned: guys i think peter died :(

MJ: like was murdered

MJ: or just died

Ned: prolly murder :((

MJ: good for him

Betty: oml mj why are you like this

MJ: i didn't even provide any details this time!

Flash: you should have

Betty: no, please don't

Peter chuckled, shaking his head as he read through the messages. MJ's obsession with the macabre was as amusing as it was concerning, and Betty's repulsion of such was never short of hysterical.

Peter: sorry had to deal with some stuff! I'll be there :)

MJ: Betty, the amount of testosterone has just increased to outnumber us. We might suffocate and die

Betty: a sacrifice im willing to make to get outta my house

As tempted as he was to continue reading through his friends' antics, Peter forced himself to put aside his phone on his bed and begin packing, well aware that he'd never get anything done if he tried to do both at once. As he pulled clean clothes out of his drawers, he noticed his suit in his peripheral vision, hanging over the edge of a laundry basket. He toyed with the idea of bringing it, but… no. There was no way he'd need it.

Although, something about the way Ms. Potts had held herself was still nagging at the back of his mind…

Nah. There was nothing wrong. It was just his imagination.

xXxXxXx

Whatever qualms Tony might have had about Peter going to a party at Flash's house - not that there were many anymore, as Flash had matured tremendously in recent months - were shoved to the back of his mind when Pepper moved her clipboard, revealing the lower right side of her white blazer to be stained dark red.

Blood.

Tony's eyes widened and a string of curses left his lips as he darted over to her so fast he should have been concerned about whiplash. "Pep, what the hell happened?!" His heart was racing as he reached out to touch her bloodied jacket. "Oh my God, we need to get you to the MedBay asap -"

"No no no, I'm fine!" she hastily reassured him, placing her clipboard on the counter to her left before grabbing one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Deep breaths. I'm fine. I promise."

"You're fine?!" Tony shouted incredulously, wincing at how his voice cracked and echoed in the mostly-empty room. "Pepper, you're - you're covered in blood," he continued frantically, though he lowered his volume in the hopes Peter's super-hearing wouldn't pick up on it. "Yet you're trying to tell me that you're fine?!" He couldn't lie. This was a new one. Or maybe a new low.

Pepper sighed, wincing. "I - well… okay. It's not my blood, Tony."

Tony blinked. Rarely did he find himself at a loss for words, but… "I beg your pardon?" The whole scenario would have been comical if he wasn't entirely stressed out of his mind.

"Believe me, I didn't plan on walking in and greeting you while covered in blood, either. I told FRIDAY the wrong floor and by the time I'd realized that Peter had already noticed me. Turning around to get back on the elevator would have probably just been more suspicious, so… I improvised."

"So you decided to give me a heart attack," Tony corrected. "Got it."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "No, I decided to get Peter out of the room as fast as possible so I could talk to you about what's going on. I probably could have eased you into it better, but…" She shrugged, giving him an awkward smile. "Sorry?"

Tony could only manage an exasperated sigh in response.

Pepper chuckled before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and letting go of his hand. "Let me change into something… cleaner real quick and then I'll explain everything I know. Try not to blow a fuse from thinking too hard while I'm gone."

Tony barely registered her sass, nodding as the words "Uh huh" left his lips while he watched Pepper leave the room and disappear around a corner. Without shrapnel embedded in his chest, Tony had figured he'd never have heart trouble again. He hadn't considered the possibility of nearly going into cardiac arrest upon seeing his fiancée fatally wounded.

But she wasn't injured, he reassured himself. Pepper was fine. It wasn't her blood.

Which, in so many ways, was even weirder. He was of course infinitely relieved to know that Pepper was not going to bleed out in his arms, but he was also very wary of learning the story behind her bloodied attire. He had a gut feeling that his relaxing evening had just ended.

"Okay," Pepper said, returning to the room in more casual and certainly less bloody attire, her hair now pinned up in a loose bun. "Let's go. Private MedBay."

Tony raised an eyebrow but followed her onto the elevator. "This is serious, then."

Pepper gave him an amused smile as she pressed a button for one of the bottom floors, though he didn't miss the exhaustion flickering in her eyes. "The blood all over me didn't give that away?"

Tony gave her a look that plainly said, That wasn't funny.

"Sorry," she said with a wince as the elevator began moving downward. "You're right. Not the time." She sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Anyways. There's only so much I know about what's going on. She'll be able to tell you more."

"'She'?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

Tony was fairly certain his heart stopped for the second time that evening. "Natasha?" he repeated. "She's - she's here?"

He and Rhodey had been keeping tabs on her and all of the other Rogue Avengers, and the last they'd seen, the group was hunkered down in Louisiana, weathering a Category One hurricane. When he'd expressed concern for their safety, Rhodey had assured him that was practically nothing. Just an overglorified tropical storm. Which hadn't been terribly comforting, if he was honest.

He wished Rhodey was there to hear Pepper's bombshell, too, but he was currently at some army meeting that Tony was not allowed to know anything about. Except that it was happening.

"Yes. She's here and she's in pretty bad shape," Pepper replied, the ding of the elevator arriving on the correct floor adding an eerie emphasis to her statement. "I was on my way back from a union meeting - I left the list of their terms in our room, by the way, if you'd like to go over them before I sign off - and I had to get inside through a back entrance to avoid paparazzi, as per usual. Natasha quite literally fell out of the bushes in front of me, bleeding from a long cut along her stomach."

Tony winced at the description, following his fiancée out of the elevator as the doors slid open. "Did she say anything about what happened to her?"

Pepper shook her head. "She was really pale, so I think she'd lost a sizable amount of blood. She did say something about it being an emergency and that she needed to talk to you, but then she passed out and collapsed into my arms." She gave him a weak smile. "I bit my tongue so hard to stop myself from screaming that I may have permanently damaged my taste buds."

Tony slipped his hand into hers, both wanting to provide comfort and receive it. To know she was still there. "I can imagine."

Pepper moved closer to his side as they continued walking down the hall towards the private MedBay. "After that, I managed to carry her to the elevator and bring her inside. Dr. Pierce is treating her now."

Tony nodded. Pierce was one of the few doctors he'd hired to personally treat himself after… Avengers-related incidents. Rhodey had introduced them. Pierce had served in the Korean War, and was one of the most respected army surgeons in the U.S. military. Of course, Pierce was also staunchly against the military and its corruption as an institution, which was another reason Tony had hired him.

Tony couldn't help but wonder what was so serious that Natasha, perhaps the only one of the Rogue Avengers who'd fully understood the need for them to remain out of the limelight until new Accords had been officialized, had shown up at Stark Tower. Worse, something so serious that it had caused her to arrive half-dead, from the sounds of it.

He just prayed that whatever it was, Peter would be able to remain out of it. The poor kid needed a break, which Tony hoped Flash's unbirthday party would provide.

Needless to say, Natasha's injury combined with Pepper's claim that the woman arrived only semi-conscious meant Tony had not expected her to be awake in the MedBay, much less holding a gun to Pierce's head. Where she had gotten the gun from, he had no idea. Pepper gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in horror, and Tony instinctively threw his arm out to protect her.

He tried to quickly evaluate the situation: Black Widow, with bandages wrapped around her midsection and her traditional black attire replaced by gray sweatpants, was kneeling on her hospital bed with a gun pointed directly at Pierce, who had his hands raised in surrender and appeared surprisingly calm for someone being threatened with death.

Well, as an army surgeon, he supposed this was not the first time Pierce had been held at gunpoint by one of his patients.

Natasha's other hand was clutching at her bandages. Tony noticed the gun quiver in her grasp, ever so slightly. Her red hair was a tangled mess and far shorter than when he'd last seen it. Her eyes were… shining?

Oh. Tears.

Okay. Tony was fairly certain he had a decent idea of what was going on.

"Hey, Nat," he said slowly, using a nickname to ease his way into the situation. "How's it going?"

Pierce, again to his credit, was still handling the scenario well. There was a stiffness to his shoulders, but his expression remained flat and neutral.

"He told me," Natasha said, her teeth clenched, "to call him Hawkeye." Her grip tightened on the trigger. "How - How dare he."

Her tone was level. It didn't match the tremor of her hand clutching her side.

Tony had suspected Pierce's nickname was the issue. Kudos to himself for his out-of-this-world deduction skills. "Nat." He took a single step towards her. "Pierce goes by Hawkeye, too."

"Shut up. Don't you both start toying with me."

Tony took another step towards her, aware that Pepper was still frozen in shock behind him. "Natasha." Full name. Effective. He saw doubt flicker in her eyes. "I'm going to assume that you didn't have a chance to be properly introduced to my friend here." Another step. "Natasha Romanoff, meet Dr. Benjamin Franklin Pierce, nicknamed 'Hawkeye' by his father as a child. A reference to the novel The Last of the Mohicans. Unrelated in any way to Clint Barton."

Natasha glanced at him for the first time since he'd entered the MedBay. Her grip on the gun loosened. "Benjamin Franklin Pierce. Korean War veteran. MASH army surgeon for the 4077th."

Sometimes he forgot how extensive her knowledge of American military and intelligence was. Fury's influence, no doubt.

"Ah, so you're heard of me," Pierce said with a small grin, and Tony was reminded of how even at 80-something years old the man still possessed much of his youthful sass and sarcasm. Of course, those traits had definitely been positive factors that had played into his decision to hire the doctor.

"Not related to Cli… Barton," Natasha murmured. Her eyes glistened with relief before they widened in horror, and her hand that was holding the gun fell to her side as she lowered herself down onto the bed. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened."

Tony seized the moment to confiscate her gun, putting it on a shelf high above her bed. He was relieved to note that she put up no struggle.

"Don't worry about it," Pierce said with a chuckle as he made sure her IV and the bag of O negative blood were still secured in her arms. "I know a thing or two about triggers. I didn't mean to alarm you."

Tony noticed that Natasha still seemed to be gradually coming back to Earth, and thus decided to take the reins of the conversation for her. "She'll be okay, Pierce. I can handle it from here."

Pierce hesitated. "Are you sure? I don't mind staying -"

"I'm sure," Tony promised, trying to give him a confident smile. "She and I have something important to discuss, anyways." He gestured to Pepper, who was still pale but appeared to have mostly recovered from her shock. "Pep will escort you out, if you don't mind."

Pierce chuckled. "Well, I suppose I can't complain about spending extra time with the beautiful Pepper Potts."

Pepper laughed, offering her arm to him. "Always the flirt, Dr. Pierce."

"Only with you, darling."

Tony found himself relaxing as he watched them leave, but the tension in his shoulders soon returned as he concentrated on Natasha. He sat down in the chair to the left of her bed, and a minute passed before he spoke.

"So. Ms. Romanoff." He leaned back in his seat, hoping it would make him more comfortable. It didn't. "What happened that's so serious you had to come out of hiding and show up here - and worse, something so bad it caused you to show up half-dead?"

Natasha winced at the mention of her injury, her hands brushing over her bandages. She forced a weak smile onto her face. "What, no icebreaker? No, 'how've you been, Nat'?"

"Seeing you holding a gun to my best doctor's head sort of broke any ice there may have been."

She sighed. "I'm really sorry about that. I don't - I don't know what came over me."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I think you do." She'd been on the run from the law for months and had extremely limited contact with the most important person in her life - Barton, who was still currently under house arrest. That, on top of being on the receiving end of a serious injury where she'd lost a significant amount of blood and then hearing Barton's codename from someone who wasn't him… It was clear as day to Tony why she'd snapped. Understandable, too, though that didn't make it okay.

She managed a laugh. "You're right. As always."

He tilted his head. "Funny that, isn't it?" He cleared his throat, not really wanting to drag the Accords into their conversation. "Seriously, though. What's going on?"

"I don't know all the details," Natasha said after a pause. "They caught me before I heard everything. I managed to get away, though not before one of them took a knife to me, unfortunately."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You don't need to be cryptic, Nat. Just tell it to me straight - why you're here, and what's going on."

She exhaled slowly. "I caught wind through some of my… connections… that something big was going down in New York." She offered him a half-hearted grin. "It's always New York, isn't it?" She pushed her hair out of her face. "Anyways. After much debate, I convinced Steve to let me come up here to check things out. My sources told me where to look, and who to listen for, so I wasn't completely in the dark about what I was getting into." She absent-mindedly cracked her knuckles. "Still, I don't know who's in charge or who planned it. But tonight, late tonight, I know they're planning to blackout the entire city by crashing the central power station."

Tony snorted. "Tell me why that sounds like the beginning of some cop teledrama. An episode of Law and Order or something."

Natasha managed a smile at that. "Yeah, it kind of does. Until you hear the second part." Her smile vanished, and she pursed her lips. "They're planning to use the blackout as a cover to break into SHIELD. Steal locked documents, take control of the system. Presumably only the New York operation. They're going to use a string of bank robberies to distract law enforcement."

Tony groaned. Not only was it a general annoyance when people tried to hack SHIELD, but the information on the Avengers Initiative had a thread of a connection to SI. Unlikely to be discovered, much less deemed important, but still a risk. Worse, he realized, there was now the new danger of Peter's identity being found out. It was almost impossible for that to happen, as it would require that his personal files be broken into, but the risk was nonetheless still there. "Great. Just how I wanted to spend my Friday night. Saving SHIELD's ass again."

Natasha sat up, wincing as her bandages shifted over her wound. "Look, I can stop them. Counterhack -"

"- is definitely not a word, you're right. And no, no way. You're injured. You need to stay here until you're able to at least move without pain."

"That's what morphine is for."

"Absolutely not. Besides, they already know that you know what they're planning, and they could even be aware that you came to tell me. It's not worth risking your life."

"No, they think they've incapacitated me" Natasha countered. "They won't expect me to interfere, which is exactly why it has to be me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "In case you didn't notice, they have incapacitated you. If you keep flopping around like a fish out of water, you're going to rip open your stitches, and you've already lost enough blood for one day. And, even if they hadn't injured you so severely, you're only the bare minimum of who knows their plans. So they're going to be on high alert for you regardless. Isn't there someone else in SHIELD you can contact who can take care of this?"

"No. You know as well as I do that I already took a massive risk just by coming here. You are the only person I can trust to not just give me up to Ross." She scoffed. "And if the hackers haven't pieced that together yet, then they aren't smart enough to break into SHIELD. So we have to assume they're aware of potential involvement from you, too. Either way, I am still the only one who can do this."

Tony sighed. The self-sacrificing nature of the Avengers was the most annoying thing.

Actually, Pepper often said the same about him. So he supposed he didn't have room to complain on that front.

"FRIDAY can get into SHIELD within twenty minutes, tops. You don't need to be involved, Nat. And it's safer for you not to be. Stay here and rest." Ugh. Unfortunately, that meant he had just cemented his own involvement. But it was better than Natasha running off and dying while trying to stop the hackers without him.

"I can get in less than five, Tony. You need my knowledge so we can put up firewalls and cut them off at the source."

"Okay, then why don't we just take preventative measures? Surely you can get into SHIELD through my tech. Let's secure it right now."

Natasha shook her head. "We can't alert them this early. They'll just delay their plans for later, and 'later' might be too late for us to stop them. We have to catch them in the act so we can turn them over to Fury. He can take control after that, working back to the root of their operation."

Tony frowned. "Wait. Have you told Fury about any of this yet?"

"No. He's temporarily MIA."

Tony was sorely tempted to ask why, but he didn't want to stray too far from the subject at hand. "Okay. So your plan is to let them blackout the city, which could result in the deaths of dozens of innocent people, and after they do that you'll, what - already be inside SHIELD headquarters to counter their hack and stop them?"

Natasha pursed her lips. "That was as far as I'd gotten, yeah." She gave him a rare, sheepish grin. "I was kind of hoping we could use some of your resources to take them all down at once. And ideally come up with a more foolproof plan where fewer people will be injured."

Tony sighed. As much as he didn't want to be involved, he wanted to keep Natasha out of it even more so. Admittedly, their trust was shaky at best, and she was also injured. Maybe a more realistic compromise could be found. "Okay. Well -"

"Tony?"

He turned around upon hearing his name, blinking in surprise to see that Pepper had returned.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "Tony, I need to talk to you for a second."

Tony glanced at Natasha, who nodded in understanding. He followed his fiancée into the hallway, closing the door to the MedBay behind him. "What's up?"

Pepper gave him a concerned smile. "You've got that 'things are really bad' look on your face."

Tony realized how tensely he'd been holding himself, and tried to relax. He was met with little success. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Pepper chuckled, though he didn't miss the worry in her eyes. "It's fine. You don't have to tell me anything you don't think I should know. But." She pushed his hair out of his face. "I came down to remind you that you have a teenager waiting upstairs to be taken to a party. He said something about you insisting on driving him…?"

Tony cursed. Peter's party had completely slipped his mind. And now, knowing that there was going to be a citywide blackout and some sort of covert attack on SHIELD, he wasn't sure he liked the idea of the kid being out of the house and so far away.

Then again, if he told him to stay at the tower, Peter would undoubtedly figure out what was going on and demand that he be allowed to help. So maybe it was better for Peter to be halfway across town.

And Peter was a teenager. For all intents and purposes, he was contractually obligated to be at a party on a Friday night, not trying to 'protect' SHIELD.

"Right. Okay." He blew air out through his lips. "I - ugh. Can you bring him, Pep?" He hated asking her last-minute, but he knew he'd feel even worse about telling Happy to come back in on his night off just to drive Peter to a party.

"Of course," Pepper said, rolling her eyes as if she was offended that he'd even consider she might refuse. "You stay with Natasha. Deal with whatever it is has the two of you so on edge."

Well, 'on edge' was an understatement. But he hoped his gratitude was evident on his face. In case it wasn't, he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Thank you, Pep. You're an angel."

She gave him a knowing smile. "I try my best." She started to leave, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Hey," he said slowly. "Tell… Tell Peter to pack his suit." Just in case.

Pepper nodded. "I will."

This time he let her go, waiting for her to turn the corner before rejoining Natasha in the MedBay.

"So," she said as he sat back down beside her. "Ready to make a plan?"

Tony sighed, fully aware that he no longer had any choice in the matter. "Yeah. Let's do it."

xXxXxXx

"He wants me to do what?" There was no way he was hearing any of this correctly. First being told that Tony could no longer drive him there, which was weird in itself because he'd been so insistent, and now being informed that Tony wanted him to -

"Pack your suit," Pepper repeated. "Before you ask, no, I don't know why he wants you to. But it seemed pretty important to him."

Peter hesitated. Packing his suit seemed like an unnecessary risk, since he was just going to hang out with his friends and in theory his bag could spill open and reveal his suit at any time, but if Tony had put so much emphasis on it… Well, Ned could help cover for him if trouble arose.

"Alright," he said, shouldering his duffel bag. "I'll go grab it." His bedroom, in which his suit was still thrown out over a laundry basket, was fortunately only at the end of the hall, and he was able to return to the main room where Pepper was waiting in a matter of minutes.

Pepper finished typing something on her phone before sticking it into her pocket and giving him an encouraging smile. "Ready to go?"

Peter nodded, and he followed her into the elevator that took them down to the garage. Regrettably, his playlist did not start to play. Or maybe it was a relief. He wasn't sure if he wanted Ms. Potts to know he sometimes listened to the Mulan soundtrack on loop.

"Oh, do you mind giving FRIDAY the address?" Pepper asked as she unlocked one of the smaller cars in the garage, opening the passenger seat for him. "And you can just read it out loud. You don't need to type it in anywhere."

Ms. Potts sometimes reminded him of MJ in that she often answered questions before he'd even thought to ask him.

Peter buckled in before taking his phone out of his pocket, scrolling up in his and Flash's text thread to when Flash had first given him his address. If he was smart, he'd save it to Flash's contact, but… Nah. "11202 135th Street."

Pepper raised an eyebrow as she turned the car out of the garage, pausing before pulling out onto the street. "That's a wealthy neighborhood. Mostly 'summer homes' there. Whose house am I bringing you to, again?"

Peter hesitated, feeling almost embarrassed by the question. He was aware that his and Flash's history was… rocky at best. Tony had grown to accept and maybe even weirdly appreciate their newfound friendship, but he wasn't sure how much Ms. Potts knew about what was going on. He hadn't had as many heart-to-hearts with her as he had Tony. "Flash." He paused, then added, "Thompson. And yeah. He says it is… one of his summer homes."

Pepper frowned. "Thompson. Yes, I think I know that name." She chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains the beachfront property."

She didn't ask any other questions, for which Peter was relieved. As she turned a knob on the dash to play music from a local radio station, he signed into his phone so he could message his friends that he'd left the tower.

Peter: omw

Peter: ms. potts is bringing me :)

MJ: MY IDOL IS BRINGING YOU

MJ: AND YOU DIDN'T LET M W

Flash: lol. it's not like she's staying over

Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at Flash's text. Flash was getting better, yes, but sometimes he still commented when he really would have been better off keeping his mouth shut.

Peter: dw mj i promise i'll introduce you to her soon

MJ: you'd better

Betty: BLATANT favoritism

MJ: don't hate me cuz you ain't me

Peter couldn't help but cringe at her text, but also found a smile sneaking onto his lips. He loved his friends, and he was incredibly lucky that they all got along so well. Even Flash, as annoying as he could sometimes be.

Ned: come on. everyone knows I'M peter's favorite

Ned followed his text with a dozen heart and kissy-face emojis, with a blushing one here and there just to spice things up, and Peter had to bite his tongue to keep his laughter from escaping. It took every ounce of his willpower to refrain from making a reference to Ned as his guy in the chair. Stupid secret identity. He was never able to have any fun.

He started to type an alternate response, but stopped only a few words in as he felt a familiar tingle on the back of his neck as Pepper stopped at a red light. He snapped his gaze away from his phone to scan the area around the car, but it appeared to be a typical intersection. There was a gas station to his right, and a bank and a pharmacy to his left. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening, either.

He glanced at Ms. Potts, whose gaze remained steadfast on the road. Her shoulders appeared stiff, but he had to consider that she was always a bit stressed because of Tony and SI and… well, most things in her life. And she had said she didn't know anything about what Tony was doing. Still…

"Do you know why Mr. Stark couldn't drive me?" Peter asked in what he hoped was a casual, inconspicuous manner, turning off his phone so he wouldn't be distracted by his friends' texts. "He was pretty insistent earlier about driving me himself. Did… something happen?"

Pepper sighed, turning left after a green arrow appeared on the correct traffic light. "I don't know much about why he changed his mind, no. Although I'm sure that's not really what you want to hear." She offered him a small smile. "But your concern is very sweet, Peter."

"Nothing serious happened, right? He's not, like, hurt or anything, is he?"

Pepper hesitated, then pressed a button to turn the radio off. "No, he's not hurt. Let's just say that… an old friend showed up, and they need Tony's help with something. And it's something so important he had to drop everything to deal with it."

Peter noticed her grip tighten on the steering wheel as she spoke. Her words were evasive, but it didn't match the… exhaustion in her voice. He wondered if that was how May felt, dealing with Spider-Man antics and work and every other thing in their lives. "So… I'm guessing whatever he has to do involves Iron Man?"

Pepper nodded. "Most likely." She then gave him a knowing look. The concern in her eyes reminded him of May, which was a little bit scary if he thought too much about it. "But don't even consider trying to get involved. Tony only wanted you to bring your suit as a precautionary measure, okay? It is not an invitation to assist him. Your plans for tonight should be to have fun with your friends. Understand?"

Peter laughed. "Yes ma'am. Copy that." Of course, he technically made no promises to remain uninvolved. He'd keep an eye on the news while with his friends, and if Tony needed help, then he'd be there. And he'd have Ned to help cover for him.

Not a foolproof plan by any means, but better than nothing.

The rest of the drive to Flash's house was spent discussing the classes Peter planned to take as a junior, specifically how he was really nervous about AP Physics C because he'd heard the teacher was both super mean and bad at teaching, which was the worst possible combination for an AP class. Pepper reassured him that he'd be fine because he probably already knew more about physics than his teacher did. Which, the more Peter thought about it, seemed lowkey true. Pepper also suggested that Tony could tutor him in the subject if he needed help that desperately. A solid backup plan.

As Pepper drove down the street to Flash's house, Peter felt a tingle on the back of his neck for the millionth time that evening. But, once again, he couldn't see anything weird going on. The weirdest thing on the street was just the house next to Flash's, and that was really only because it was empty and looked slightly more rundown than all the giant houses next to it. He doubted anyone had lived there for a year or two, at least. But being abandoned didn't mean it was the thing that was triggering his… er, sixth sense. Maybe he was just concerned for Tony?

On a side note, going to Flash's house - or houses - always made Peter feel more broke than he actually was.

Pepper slowed down as she pulled into the driveway of Flash's hou… mansion. He should just call it what it was. Really, how had they ever become friends?

"I'll do my best to make sure Tony is able to pick you up tomorrow, okay?" Pepper said as she put the car into park and unlocked the doors. "I know he felt bad about not being able to drive you tonight."

Peter nodded and gave her a grateful smile before climbing out of the car. "Thank you, Ms. Potts. I'll probably text you later about what time tomorrow Flash plans to kick us all out."

Pepper laughed. "Alright. I'll keep an eye on my phone."

Peter made sure he had his bag and his phone before closing the car door, waving goodbye as she drove away before making his way up to the door and ringing the doorbell.

Flash opened the door a few seconds later, rolling his eyes upon seeing Peter. "Of course you're early, Parker." He stepped aside to let him in.

Peter mock-glared at him as he entered, Flash shutting the door behind him. "Three minutes, Flash. I'm only three minutes early."

"Look. There's a reason why there's no such thing as being 'fashionably early', okay?"

That… was a surprisingly valid point.

Peter wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Anyways," he said, hastily trying to think of a way to change the subject, "what's going on… with your neighbors?" Maybe Flash could give him a clue about what was so off-putting about the abandoned-looking house.

Instead Flash just gave him a weird look. "What? Why do you care about my neighbors?"

Ugh. Peter hated making small talk. "I mean, not your neighbors neighbors. The empty house. Next door."

Flash raised an eyebrow. "Uh… it's empty? Because no one has lived there for years?" He frowned, leaning in close to Peter. Almost nose-to-nose close. "Are you okay, Parker? Did you hit your head or something?"

Peter flushed at the question, but he was saved from having to respond when the doorbell rang again.

Flash groaned, pulling away from Peter, much to Peter's silent relief. "Ugh. Someone else who's as timely as you." He opened the door to reveal Betty and MJ, with MJ swinging a set of car keys around her finger that Peter knew for a fact were not hers while Betty was trying to put a golden stud in her left ear. Plastic grocery bags filled with chips and other assorted junk food hung from their arms.

"Sorry we're so early," Betty said with a triumphant grin as she successfully snapped on her earring back. "I slightly overestimated how much time I needed to pick up MJ, stop at the store, and then head here." She accepted her keys back from MJ, dropping them into her purse as the two stepped inside. Flash shut and locked the door behind them.

"And yet Peter beat us anyways," MJ said dryly, though amusement sparkled in her eyes. "At least we got here before Ned."

"Speaking of Ned…" Flash rolled his eyes as he read a message on his phone before shoving it into his pocket. "He said he's gonna be late, so let's just bring all your stuff upstairs now."

MJ fell into step with Peter as they began making their way to Flash's room, Flash leading the way. "So," she drawled, smirking at him. "How's the suite life at SI, what with being Tony Stark's favorite teenager?"

Long since used to MJ's teasing, Peter just laughed. "That is top secret information, I'm afraid."

"Uh, damn right it is," Flash called from in front of them, earning a snicker from Betty. "This house must remain free from any and all mentions of Tony Stark during your time here. Got it?"

"Come on, Flash, you have got to get better at disguising your envy," Betty chastised. "I told you that you should have kept taking theatre in middle school! You weren't even completely terrible! And if you had kept it up, you'd be a much better liar now."

"Betty. I was awful. Literally who do you think you're talking about, because I swear it definitely wasn't me."

Peter often forgot how long Betty and Flash had known each other. They just liked to pretend they hadn't.

He also knew that Flash's animosity towards his SI internship was considerably more of a facade nowadays. He knew little to nothing about Tony's relationship with Flash, but he was aware that Tony and someone else met with Flash every other weekend for some undisclosed reason.

He wasn't supposed to know about those meetings, either, but he couldn't exactly control what he did and didn't overhear because of his superhearing. And in his defense, he'd skedaddled as soon as he realized.

"Believe me, I do not want to talk about Mr. Stark, either." Peter followed MJ and Betty's lead, dropping his duffel bag onto the floor of Flash's room. "I'm here to take a break from everything SI-related. And everything school-related, too -"

"Ugh, don't even mention school," Betty said, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "It is summer right now. We are free of all academic pressure." She gestured accusingly to MJ. "I spent thirty million years arguing her out of bringing her Decathlon cards!"

Flash mimicked gagging, earning a shrug from MJ, who simply said, "I see no harm in maximizing our free time to practice."

"Absolutely not," Betty retorted. "I'm not even on Decathlon, and I'd like to keep my association with it as minimal as possible. Preferably at like, zero."

Peter dramatically threw a hand over his heart. "Betty. How you wound us."

"Good. Bleed out and die."

She'd definitely been spending more of her time with MJ.

They all ended up sitting on the floor of Flash's room, munching on some of the chips Betty had brought while arguing about what kind of pizza to order as they waited for Ned to arrive.

"I told you, I am not ordering a pizza for each of us," Flash repeated. "The discount is for medium pizzas, so we're gonna get three two-topping pizzas and all share them. And if we don't figure out a compromise I'm just going to order whatever the hell I want and you can deal with it." Although he tried to make it sound like an ultimatum, the obvious grin on his face ruined the effect.

"One of them can't have cheese," Betty insisted. "I mean, I have my medicine, but pizza is totally not worth the cramps. Only ice cream."

"So Betty will get her own pizza," MJ said, amused. "Right."

"Because I can't eat cheese! I'm the victim here!"

Peter tried not to laugh at his friend's squabbling. "Look, I'll eat literally anything. So don't worry about me."

"I can't believe I'm actually grateful for your presence, Parker," Flash said, rolling his eyes. "And it's because of your insatiable appetite, which makes it even weirder."

Peter knew his face had grown red at the comment. For people who didn't know he was Spider-Man, which was a majority of the population, his drastic increase in appetite between freshman and sophomore year was… weird, as Flash had put it. "I'm just not very picky." Which had been true even before he became Spider-Man. There'd been low points in his life, especially right after his parents died, where he'd learned to eat and appreciate whatever food was on the table.

"Okay but honestly, Peter, every girl I know would kill to have your metabolism," Betty said pointedly. "You're able to eat however much of whatever you want and still stay in shape. Like, that's so lucky."

Peter found himself instinctively pulling down the bottom of his shirt. She had no idea just how fit he really was. Ideally, he didn't want anyone to, which was why he always changed for PE in a bathroom stall. Ned stood guard when he could. "It's… er, hereditary, I guess?"

Betty shook her head. "The things I'd do for genes like that."

Peter was saved from having to continue the conversation further when their phones all buzzed in unison.

Ned: IM HERE

Ned: LET ME IN

Ned: pls tell me none of you ordered anchovies on the pizza

"I'll go get him," Flash said, starting to stand up.

An idea occurred to Peter, and threw out an arm to stop him. "No, it's okay," he said, hoping he didn't sound too frantic. "You guys can finish ordering the pizza. I'll let Ned in, since I don't care what the toppings are."

Flash shrugged, sitting back down. "Okay. Fine by me."

As Peter left the bedroom, he could feel a pair of eyes following him. Through process of elimination, it was probably MJ. The thought made him blush, but he shook himself out of it as he headed downstairs and opened the front door for Ned. "Glad to see you made it," he said with a wide grin as he moved aside to let his friend in, shutting and locking the door behind him. "I was worried you wouldn't show."

Ned made a face. "Okay, so my mom had work today, right? Eleanor wanted to throw her a big surprise dinner for their date, which is really sweet, but she had me help her cook everything before she brought me over here. Which took forever."

Peter laughed. "Got it, got it. But hey - it's pretty cool you helped her out. I'm sure your mom will appreciate it."

Ned snorted. "My mom is lucky I love her so much." He started to head upstairs, but stopped as Peter stepped in front of him. "Uh… something wrong?"

Peter made a shushing motion, tilting his head towards the stairs. Ned seemed to get the hint, and gave him a knowing nod as they both pulled further away from where their friends might overhear them.

"Okay," Peter said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I'm not sure, but I think something might… happen tonight. I know that's vague, but whatever it is, Mr. Stark doesn't want me to get involved, which means it's probably serious. But -"

"But you'll help him anyway if you think you need to," Ned finished, "and you'll need your guy in the chair to cover for you. No problem."

Peter couldn't stop himself from beaming in response. God, he loved Ned. "You are the actual best."

"Don't I know it."

They immediately fell into their handshake, just reaching the fist bump at the end when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"What's taking you losers so long? The party's up here."

They turned around to see MJ leaning over one of the upstairs railings, smirking down at the both of them.

"I'm playing favorites," Peter replied, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. Bantering with MJ always made him flustered.

"Well, the longer you play favorites, the less influence you have over pizza toppings. If I were you, I'd haul ass and get up here."

Peter and Ned exchanged a look, then proceeded to do exactly that.

As he ran upstairs, Peter guiltily found himself hoping that nothing would happen after all. It wasn't that unreasonable of him to want a night off, was it?

Either way, he'd stay on high alert. Just in case.

xXxXxXx

"Okay. Let's go over the plan one more time." Tony stopped pacing and returned to the chair beside Natasha's bed, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll alert local law enforcement about the bank diversions and the power outage so they'll be able to address them immediately as they occur. I'll also let all hospitals in the area know about the blackout so they can have generator power already up and running to support people on life support and anything else that requires electricity. I can say all this information is a tip from…?"

"Anonymous? Or one of your, quote, 'many sources'?" Natasha suggested. "Surely they all know by now that you have a plethora of informants at your beck and call."

Tony tilted his head, acknowledging her point. He sighed. "Yeah, that'll have to work unless I come up with something better." He ran a hand through his hair. "Anyways. If I share that 'tip' first, officers will be able to arrest the lower members of this organization as they're hitting the banks."

"Meanwhile, we'll get into SHIELD," Natasha continued. "The second the blackout occurs, you'll reboot the networks I need and and then I'll start reinforcing SHIELD's encryption."

Tony snapped his fingers. "We'll need plainclothes officers and electricians at the power station, too, to apprehend the people there and to repair things as soon as possible." He frowned as a thought occurred. "How do you know we aren't going to need some backup? And won't there be at least a few SHIELD operatives already in the building? Is there anyone you can contact so they can deal with this and allow you to stay behind and rest?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "We already went over this. I'm fine. The cut was shallow and the painkillers are kicking in, too."

"That hardly means anything."

She ignored him. "But no, there's not going to be anyone from SHIELD there. The entire underground complex is being fumigated tonight, which is probably why -"

"Probably why they chose tonight for their plan," Tony grumbled. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

Natasha gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you for helping me, Tony. Steve wasn't too sure you would."

Tony scoffed. "I imagine you know better than to take Captain Star-Spangled Banner's words as law. But don't thank me yet. Not until we pull this off." He massaged his temples. "Anyways. You 'counterhack' the hackers, or whatever you've decided to call it, and during that time I'll try to track them through their software. Depending on where they are, we either send police to apprehend them or do it ourselves and hand them over to your 'connections'."

"Exactly. This is going to work."

He sent her a dubious look. "Your confidence sure is high for someone working off minimal information who already got stabbed by these guys."

"I'm an optimist."

Tony snorted. "Better you than me." He stood up, brushing off his lap for no other reason than giving his hands something to do. "We have a few hours before we need to leave. Until then, you are going to rest and give your body as much of a chance to recuperate as possible. Understand me?"

Natasha looked like she wanted to argue, but something inside her must have relented, as she simply nodded. "Alright. I'll be here."

"I mean, you'd better not be going for a wander with a five-inch gash across your body." He pointed to the right side of her bed. "If you need anything, press the button on the underside of that armrest. Pepper or I will come down to check on you."

"Roger that, captain."

Tony could tell by the lilt in her voice and the smirk on her lips that she was teasing him, but the words stung nonetheless. He did his best to disguise his grimace as a smile before giving her a final nod and leaving the MedBay, nearly running into Pepper as he stepped out the door.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed before giving him a warm smile that caused practically all of the tension in his body to melt away. "I wasn't sure you and Natasha would have finished planni… ah, talking by now."

They began heading back towards the main room on the floor, Tony allowing himself to slip his hand into Pepper's as they did so.

"We discussed a lot," he finally said, allowing himself to practically collapse onto the couch before draping his arm over his fiancée's shoulders, absentmindedly twirling her red hair around his fingers. "I have to admit, Pep, I really didn't expect my Friday night to go like this." He'd wanted to sit and relax with Pepper, read a book or two, maybe every now and then sending Peter a stupid text just to be a fun bother while the kid was at his party. But now…

Pepper placed her hand over his chest, gently tapping the arc reactor. "Sometimes your superhero alter ego can be quite a hassle, huh?"

Tony chuckled, taking her hand in his free one and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Yeah, but you think it's pretty hot. Don't deny it."

She laughed, placing her head on his shoulder. "I plead the fifth."

"Uh huh. You say that every time." There was a pause as Tony took a moment to truly soak in her company. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.

"So I take it you'll be home late?" he heard Pepper murmur.

He winced. "Yeah."

"After midnight?"

"Mhm."

She sighed, but pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'll keep the bed warm."

Tony couldn't stop himself from smiling. Sometimes his heart felt like it was going to overflow with love when he was around Pepper. "Thank you."

"Mhm. You're welcome."

There was another pause where neither spoke, simply allowing themselves to be in the presence of the other. "Anyways," Tony finally continued, "how's Peter? I assume you were able to drop him off in one piece?"

"I resent the implication that I'm such a terrible driver, but yes, he got there safe and sound." She lifted her head, giving him a suspicious look. "Although, you neglected to mention that he was going to Flash Thompson's house. I thought he and Peter were…" She grimaced. "'Enemies' feels like too strong of a word. Rivals?"

"Eh, they're working on watching things up. 'Frenemies' might be a better term." He ran his thumb over her engagement ring. "Flash isn't a bad kid. He's just got bad parents."

Understanding dawned in Pepper's eyes, and she nodded. "I see. Well, I'm happy they're working things out. They're both too young to carry the kind of negativity that comes with hatred."

"Always a wise one, you are."

She scoffed. "You sound like Yoda." But she was smiling.

Eventually they both had to return to business, with Pepper heading to her office in the penthouse to fill out SI paperwork while Tony went downstairs to his lab. It was there he made the necessary calls about his 'tip' regarding the banks and the power outage. Thankfully, the people who'd answered the phone had all seemed so in awe of the fact that they were talking to Tony Stark that they didn't question where he'd gotten the information from. He just hoped they'd actually pass on the word to their superiors.

While in the lab, Tony absentmindedly tinkered with the different projects on his worktables - repulsors for Mark 48, different nanotech devices, portable water filters. His thoughts were, almost needless to say, all over the place. Natasha's plan, the Rogue Avengers, Peter's party - his mind was crammed with concern for a dozen people on a hundred different levels.

But it was all going to work out. It had to. Natasha's wound would heal, Peter would have a great time at his party, the plan would go off without a hitch, and Ross would be none the wiser.

If something went wrong… Tony didn't know what he'd do.

xXxXxXx

"Okay, no more UNO!" Flash said angrily, throwing his cards on the floor. "I am so done with this game."

Ned snickered and whispered to Peter, "Rage quit."

"Don't be a sore loser, Eugene," MJ said, rolling her eyes. "It's not our fault you have a terrible poker face."

Flash turned scarlet, which really only proved MJ's point. "Whatever, Jones. It's still a stupid card game."

Betty yawned, stretching her arms over her head to crack her back. "I hate to agree with Flash, but I'm getting tired of UNO, too. Should we play something else?"

Peter shrugged, making sure to answer faster than Flash could. "Fine with me." He placed his cards down on the discard pile. "Is there something specific you guys want to play?"

MJ's eyes lit up, and Peter had to look away because he found her expression so endearing it was downright embarrassing. "Let's play Scattergories!"

Betty groaned, though there was no real aggravation behind it. "MJ. Please. I love you. If you love me, you won't make me use my brain on a Friday night in the middle of summer."

Peter noticed Ned beginning to pick up UNO, and he lent him a hand, grabbing the piles of cards that were out of his friend's reach. Flash started helping, too, and Peter had to hide a small smile.

MJ relented. "Okay, no Scattergories. I am a reasonable woman."

"What about Apples to Apples?" Ned suggested as he finished putting the UNO cards back into their box. "I would say Cards Against Humanity, but I don't have it." He rolled his eyes. "My mom thinks it's 'inappropriate'."

Well, Ned's mom wasn't wrong, but to be inappropriate was pretty much the point of the game. That said, Peter was always a little embarrassed to play it, mostly because May never failed to beat him when they played with other people. Truly humiliating.

"I think I have it," Flash mused. "I'm pretty sure I bought it last June, when they were selling pri-" He cut himself off, looking flustered seemingly out of nowhere. But if anyone noticed besides Peter, they didn't comment.

"Ugh, no more cards," Betty said dramatically, moving the back of her hand to rest on her forehead with an elegant flourish. "What are we, commoners?"

Flash snorted. "Okay, Your Majesty. What do you suggest?"

"Hmm…" Betty tapped her chin, pondering the question so seriously it looked more like she was contemplating the meaning of life. Peter had to bite back a laugh. "Ooh! Truth or dare!"

"Are you serious?" Flash scoffed. "Betty, how old are you again?"

"Older than you. And Truth or Dare is a slumber party staple," Betty said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Unless… you're too scared to participate? Got something to hide?"

Insulting Flash's pride to get him to agree. No one could say Betty didn't know exactly what she was doing. She was eerily good at manipulating people - MJ's influence, most likely.

Peter himself didn't really have a problem with Truth or Dare. There was always the underlying anxiety about questions veering too close to Spider-Man, but he was pretty good about dodging those. Well, good enough. If the need arose, he'd tell selective truths. Maybe that was lying by omission, but… Eh. Sacrifices had to be made for the sake of his secret identity, right?

"Okay, fine," Flash grumbled. "We can play the stupid kiddie game."

MJ and Betty exchanged a knowing look, and Peter had a sinking feeling that they planned to tear into Flash when the opportunity arose. This unspoken chemistry was why he always treaded lightly around the two of them. Together, they were an unstoppable force.

Peter froze as he felt a familiar sensation crawling up the back of his neck, and he instinctively whirled around to look behind him.

Nothing there.

"You good?" MJ asked, eyebrow raised. "You look a little… spooked."

'Spooked' was an understatement. That was the jumpiest he'd felt all evening. "Yeah, I'm fine," he reassured her, unsure of how convincing he sounded. "Just got a chill."

"Do you need me to turn up the thermostat?" Flash asked, and Peter half-wondered if he just wanted to get out of the first round of the game.

"No, it's okay. It was a random chill kinda thing."

"Eleanor says those are caused by someone walking over your grave," Ned offered cheerily. His tone didn't match the creepiness of his words.

"I think Eleanor and I would get along," MJ said with a wide grin. "I like that explanation."

Relieved that the attention was no longer on him, Peter discreetly checked his phone. No texts from Tony or Ms. Potts, or even Happy. No breaking news alerts.

Weird.

He'd just have to keep an eye open.

"Anyways," MJ continued calmly, as if she hadn't just been talking about a weird paranormal phenomenon. "Let's lay down a few ground rules. No dangerous dares. Nothing with drugs, nothing with alcohol, and nothing that could involve bodily injury." She waited for everyone to nod before she kept speaking. "Love life is fair game for truth, but try to avoid being creepy about it. Family life is off-limits because this game is supposed to be hilariously uncomfortable, not awkwardly uncomfortable. If you break these rules, you get put in the time-out corner." She gestured to the far side of Flash's room. "Sound fair?" When everyone nodded, she grinned. "Great. We'll go clockwise in a circle. You can ask anyone except for the person asked immediately before you."

MJ could often be closed off and even a little awkward at school, but at Decathlon practice and events like this where she was with her friends, her natural instincts as a leader were able to shine - and Peter found that really attractive about her. Which was a secret he'd take to his grave.

"Ned can start," Betty declared. "Unlike someone I could but won't point fingers at, he hasn't complained once tonight about our choice of games."

Ned was clearly trying to hold back his laughter as Flash glared at Betty, an attempt which was met with moderate success. "Okay. Uh… MJ. Truth or dare?"

"From you… I say truth."

Ned frowned. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Probably a compliment, considering present company," Peter said with a wink at Flash to let his friend know he was kidding. Flash would probably still try to embarrass him when it got round to be his turn, anyways, but at least it'd be all in good fun. Hopefully.

"Alright, MJ. You gotta be totally honest with us." Ned smirked at her, evidently pleased with whatever question he'd come up with. "Do you actually like Ernest Hemingway, or did you just say that the whole year to stay on Ms. Smith's good side?"

MJ's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, the only sound that came out being a strangled, "Urghm." Everyone burst out laughing, and her face turned a pretty shade of scarlet.

"I knew it!" Ned exclaimed gleefully. "No one could ever genuinely like Hemingway."

MJ started to protest, but then she grimaced and sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. Yeah, Hemingway is crap. I was just playing teacher's pet with Smith. And in my defense, it totally worked, since I was exempted from the midterm and the final." She proceeded to glare at all of them. "But if you speak a word of that to her, I will never forgive you. I spent the entire year cultivating a good relationship with her so she'll write me a glowing recommendation for an internship I'm applying to."

Only Betty appeared unfazed by MJ's threat. "What happens in Truth or Dare stays in Truth or Dare," she promised. "Okay, Peter - your turn!"

Any other day, Peter would have considered seizing the opportunity to tease Flash, but his curiosity of what Betty and MJ had in store for their friend outweighed his own desire to pester Flash. "Betty," he finally said with a small grin. "Truth or dare?"

Betty appeared to size him up, as if debating which option would be worse coming from him. "Dare."

Peter couldn't stop his grin from widening. "I dare you to do a cartwheel."

Betty groaned as everyone started laughing. Ah, Peter's favorite kind of dare - subtle malice. "God, I am so bad at gymnastics!" Her expression then hardened, the transition so rapid it was almost comical. "But I am not a coward, Peter Parker." She fished a scrunchie out of her purse, tying back her hair before squaring her shoulders and marching to an empty space in Flash's massive bedroom. "Here goes nothing!"

Betty raised her arms above her head, stepped forward with her right leg, and promptly completed the saddest, most crooked cartwheel in the history of mankind.

Peter had never seen anything so glorious in his life.

Betty gave a dramatic bow as she stood back up, offering cheesy finger guns while the group practically cried with laughter and applauded her effort. MJ ended up falling over sideways, leaning into Peter's chest.

Peter silently hoped the red blush on his face would be attributed to a lack of oxygen from laughing too hard.

Even Flash seemed to have finally relaxed into the game, as he too was bent over laughing. Ned's hand was on his shoulder, presumably to keep them both from falling over.

"Let it be known that Betty Brant is a badass," Betty said with a giant grin, taking her hair down to dramatically toss it over her shoulder. "And no, I will not be taking criticism."

Flash had started snorting with laughter, and he waved his hand. "Someone - Someone else go," he wheezed. "Before I need to get my inhaler."

With how much soccer Flash played, Peter sometimes forgot he had asthma.

Betty returned to the circle, smoothing down her shirt as she sat. "Okay! MJ, I believe it is your turn."

Peter had a feeling that although MJ and Betty had silently plotted Flash's demise together, it would be Betty who got to ask him truth or dare, as MJ asking was more likely to put him on the defensive. And he appeared to be right, as MJ turned to face Ned with a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

The blood drained from Ned's face. "Uh oh."

MJ laughed. "You overestimate my capacity for wickedness."

"Uh, no I don't."

Her grin widened. Peter pretended that he wasn't at all freaking out because of the way her shoulder was still pressed against his. "Okay. Truth or dare, Ned?"

He hesitated. "Dare…?"

"I dare you to lick the bottom of a shoe of your choosing."

There was a chorus of disgusted sounds around the room, the most distinct being a loud "Ew, MJ!" from Betty.

"Should that be considered a health hazard?" Peter asked. "Since we don't know where people's shoes have been. Ned could ingest select traces of the Bubonic plague if someone has been on the subway recently enough." He was silently pleased to note that although MJ rolled her eyes at his question, she didn't move away from him.

"Don't be ridiculous. He'll be fine."

Ned had a thoughtful expression on his face. "You said anyone's shoe?"

MJ shrugged. "Yep."

"Great." Ned turned to Flash. "You've gotta have a pair of shoes you've never worn, right?"

Flash, who seemed hilariously delighted to be a part of Ned's loophole against MJ, jumped to his feet and ran over to his closet. "My dad gets me the wrong size shoes every Christmas. I have at least 16 pairs I've never worn."

MJ groaned as Flash pulled out a pair of squeaky clean, shiny dress shoes. "This is cheating."

Peter laughed, grinning at her. "I would call it a clever interpretation of your demands. You of all people should respect that."

"Eh," MJ said, her tone edged with disappointment as Ned quickly licked the bottom of the shoe Flash provided. "Still not as entertaining."

Betty's shoulders had slumped in relief at Ned's successful manipulation of the dare. "MJ, we can't be friends anymore. That was a revolting suggestion."

"Please," MJ scoffed, though she was grinning. "You know it could have been way worse."

Betty looked queasy at the thought. "Right."

Peter had zoned out of their conversation - not intentionally, of course, but he was easily distracted by the weird tingle coming to bother him yet again that evening. It wasn't any stronger than before, but it was now more… persistent. While earlier it had been a lapse, like a moment out of time, now it remained, inching up and down the back of his neck the entire time Betty and MJ were bantering.

So what the hell was causing it?

He was about to check his phone again when he was snapped out of his thoughts by -

"Anyways!" Flash interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's my turn now. Let's not neglect that."

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Flash's voice effectively counteracted Peter's… sixth sense, or whatever. He should probably talk to Tony about the stupid tingly feeling, but that was a problem for tomorrow's Peter.

Ned tossed the shoe he'd licked back at Flash, who barely managed to dodge it. "As if we could forget."

"Ha ha, Leeds." Flash proceeded to scan the group, his gaze finally landing on -

Well, Peter supposed he should have seen this coming.

"Parker." Flash smirked at him. "Truth or dare?"

Neither was really ideal. Which he supposed was the point of the game. Still, Peter felt a slightly more intense dislike towards the idea of Flash nosing around in his personal life, even though their relationship had progressed leaps and bounds in the last few months. "Dare."

"I dare you to do a split," Flash said without missing a beat.

Peter had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Flash had overheard him talking to Ned ages ago about how he was working on improving his flexibility - though Flash had no idea it was related to Spider-Man - and apparently still hadn't gotten over the fact. "Lame. But okay."

Peter stood up and moved out of the circle so he wouldn't accidentally kick anyone. He hadn't stretched, so it wouldn't be a great split, but at least he'd changed out of his jeans and into pajama pants. People who could do splits in jeans were almost certainly supernatural beings in disguise.

He did some quick stretches on either leg, not wanting to pull a muscle just to satisfy Flash's dare, then cracked his back before carefully dropping into a left-leg split. It wasn't the best, but it would do.

Ned whistled as Betty and MJ offered a round of applause. Flash looked both irritated and impressed.

Peter acknowledged their praise with a gracious nod, grinning as he pushed himself out of the split and rejoined the circle. He sat close to MJ, though not as close as she'd moved next to him earlier. He was a coward - no excuses, just the truth. "Thank you. I'm an aspiring ballerina."

"Peter, you're too perfect," Flash said, and though he was clearly trying to speak with disdain, his tone came across as that of begrudging respect and admiration.

Peter snorted, shaking his head. "Nah. You just haven't been my friend long enough to see everything stupid I do."

"And trust me when I say that's a lot," Ned added, playfully nudging Peter's shoulder. "But we love him anyway."

"I am of the opinion that Peter is most entertaining when he's at peak dumbass," MJ said, completely straight-faced. "This side of Peter is not commonly shown at school, however."

"Because I have an intelligent, witty facade to maintain!"

"Sure you do, Peter. Sure you do."

"Anyways," Betty said, unsuccessfully stifling her own grin at the conversation, "let's move on. I do believe it is my turn." She shifted to better face Flash, giving him an innocent-looking smile that didn't at all match the scheming gleam in her eyes. "Truth or dare?"

Flash regarded her with intense suspicion, and Peter tried not to laugh as his gaze flickered over to MJ, who was smirking at his discomfort.

"You'd better choose wisely," Ned snickered, having long since given up on trying to hold back his laughter.

"Ugh," was Flash's response. He sighed. "Okay. Truth."

Betty's smile widened, and Peter found himself increasingly curious about what she was going to ask him. "Eugene Thompson. You must tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you Thor."

"Uh huh. Got it."

"Who…" Betty paused dramatically, which was a highly if surprisingly effective means of increasing the tension in the room. "… is your celebrity crush?"

Really? Celebrity crush? That was it?

Well, Flash's face was gradually turning a darker and darker red, so maybe MJ and Betty knew something he didn't about Flash's love life.

"Classmate crushes come and go," MJ added, "but celebrity crushes tend to remain over time, therefore revealing more about a person's perceived taste."

"I swear you two are still middle schoolers on the inside," Flash grumbled. "First asking Ned to lick a shoe. Now this. You're ridiculous."

"Oh, stop stalling and answer," Betty countered with a dismissive wave of her hand. "There is no room for cowardice in truth or dare."

Flash adamantly kept his eyes trained on the floor in the middle of the circle. "This is so embarrassing."

"You know that's exactly the point," MJ drawled, smirking at him. "Come on. Who is it?"

Peter winced as his sixth sense started going haywire yet again, unintentionally tuning out the conversation at hand. The interval between this time and the last was considerably smaller - yeah, he probably needed to be worried. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing in his password and immediately going to local news.

Still nothing.

He debated whether or not to send a message to Tony. He was almost certain that his mentor would either ignore the text or tell him to stay out of it, so maybe it wasn't the greatest idea. But he also wasn't figuring anything out on his own, which was beyond frustrating.

"You good?" he heard Ned whisper, and he offered his friend what was hopefully a little better than a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah. Just… got a weird feeling."

"Flash, you know you're not getting out of this," Betty said, placing a hand on her hip. "I will hound you for the next hour if I need you."

Flash scowled, then proceeded to hastily mutter something under his breath that sounded vaguely like "powder hand".

"You have to be audible when you say it!" Betty argued. "Try again."

Flash's face reddened further, and he finally sighed in resignation, lifting his gaze from the ground. "Spider-Man."

Peter's eyes widened, and he noticed in his peripheral vision that Ned's did the same. His breath got caught in his throat, and he broke into a coughing fit that led to Ned frantically thumping him on the back.

"See, no one reacts weird when Liz said she had a crush on Spider-Man, but when it's me Parker suddenly catches my asthma," Flash complained. "Fuck this."

"Sorry," Peter managed to get out as his coughing subsided, wincing as his voice cracked. "I just choked on my spit."

Flash shook his head, his face still flushed in embarrassment. "Yeah, right. Laugh it up."

"No one's laughing, Flash," MJ said. "Peter's just an idiot who doesn't know how to breathe."

"Spider-Man isn't a crush to be ashamed of," Betty added. "He's up there with like, Freddie Mercury in coolness factor."

Something akin to relief flickered in Flash's eyes. "Seriously?"

MJ nodded, rolling her eyes. "Um, yeah. The way you were freaking out, I thought you were going to say one of the Kardashians or something."

Flash's nose wrinkled in disgust. "I've literally never been so insulted. Thanks."

Peter was aware that Ned was frantically glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. His friend wasn't speaking, but Peter could tell exactly what he was saying - dude, what the hell?!

Peter didn't really know how to answer him. The weird tingling sensation on the back of his neck was yet to disappear, too, which only made things more confusing.

"Quick pause on the game," Betty said. "So… why Spider-Man?"

Flash groaned. "Stop turning my party into a preteen girl's sleepover."

"Aw, come on!"

"No. It's none of your business!"

Betty continued trying to weasel information out of Flash, with Flash shutting down her questions each time. The only thing he clarified was that no, he didn't know his sexuality, and he didn't care about defining it because his parents had given him enough labels in life already.

Which really only raised more questions.

Peter was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the conversation. He knew Ned could tell, because his friend had leaned over and whispered again, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Peter had nodded, but… He doubted that was the truth.

It wasn't even because Flash had a crush on Spider-Man. That was whatever. Peter was starting to get used to the ever-growing number of fans of his superhero alter-ego.

It was because Flash had a crush on Spider-Man. Flash, who for a long time had wanted nothing to do with Peter. The contrast was hard to comprehend.

The duality of man, he supposed.

But far more pressing than Flash's love life was the constant tingling of his stupid, stupid spidey sense. Or whatever. He didn't really know what to call it. May and Tony would probably try to give it some idiotic name, like 'Peter power'.

Dammit, something was off. Something - something wasn't right. But Peter still had no clue as to what.

He needed to clear his head.

Peter stood abruptly, stumbling over a pretty pathetic "I have to go" before practically darting out of the room.

All he needed were a few moments to breathe and to comb through the situation. At least, that was what he silently insisted as he locked himself in one of Flash's bathrooms. He hadn't gone terribly far away from his friends, and even through the walls he could hear Flash say, "What, does he hate Spider-Man or something?" followed by Ned's surprisingly convincing reply of, "No, I think he just ate something bad earlier. He was complaining about a stomach ache when I arrived."

Ned was the best.

Peter sat down on the edge of the bathtub, taking several deep breaths to calm himself, or at least get himself into a more rational state of mind, as it did little to eliminate his ever-growing anxiety as a result of his annoying sixth sense. He tapped his watch to activate his AI. "Hey, Karen?"

"Yes, Peter?" The mechanical voice seemed louder in the quiet, spacious bathroom. "How may I help you?"

He paused, having to take a moment to figure out how to formulate his question. My sixth sense is going completely haywire - why? was probably too much even for a near-omniscient AI, so he finally decided on, "Are there any reports of criminal activity in the area? Or any reports at all involving Mr. Stark?"

"I will check. One moment, please." A minute or so later, she said, "Nothing has been reported. My scanners are not detecting anything, either, though my range is limited in this form."

Peter chewed his bottom lip. The feelings of spiders crawling up and down on the back of his neck was still yet to diminish. If anything, it was more intense.

This was weird.

"Okay. Karen, can you -" He cut himself off as he noticed a light faintly flickering in through the bathroom window, and he jumped onto the counter to get a better look at what it was. "Hold that thought."

"Certainly, Peter."

Flash had told him that no one lived next door. And the disrepair of the house had definitely supported that statement. But if that was the case, why was there a dim light on inside? And why was that light in a specific, more off-center back room so that no one would notice it from the street?

There was someone inside that house.

Normally, Peter wouldn't have been too concerned with stuff of that sort, but considering this was the first unusual thing he'd seen all day while his sixth sense was blaring like a fire alarm… Well, he figured that was enough reason to at least be suspicious. "Karen, can you pick up anything from that house next door?" He held up his watch to the window, unsure if that was at all helpful for her.

"I am detecting several heat signatures," the AI said after a pause, "but it is difficult for me to distinguish them. Perhaps in your suit I would be more effective? My range is more enhanced there."

Peter again found himself chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered the situation. Currently, his friends thought he was… well, probably throwing up based on the excuse Ned had given them. Which was fine, because it meant they'd be less likely to actually come inside the bathroom to check on him.

But he needed his suit, which was in his duffel bag that was still on the floor of Flash's room. He could probably text Ned and have him bring the bag under the guise of needing a change of clothes. Assuming that worked, he'd still need to sneak out of and back into the bathroom unnoticed. Manageable, but easier said than done with other people in the house.

Ugh. At least there was no way things could get any worse.

And then the power went out.

xXxXxXx

"Okay. I've got your systems back online," Tony said, adjusting his filtered mask as he took a step away from his suit that was currently hooked into SHIELD's grid. If Fury ever found out SI tech had been plugged into SHIELD equipment, he'd probably kill him. "FRIDAY's keeping an eye on news stations. So far they've apprehended two groups staging bank jobs. All hospitals in the range of the blackout had generators at the ready. No deaths reported so far." And hopefully there would be none that evening.

Natasha nodded, and though her own mask covered her face, he could see the way her body winced as she sat down in front of the computer Tony had rebooted for her. She did not otherwise acknowledge any pain she was in and immediately began typing away. "You put up the blockade to slow their breach?"

"Yep." He gestured to the Mark 47, still connected to SHIELD's dash. "It won't deactivate unless the suit is unplugged. Even if somehow they get past it, it'll still slow them down significantly."

"Great," Natasha muttered. "Thank you." Her focus on the screen was so intense that Tony wouldn't have been surprised to see a hole form in it. "Now it's just on me."

He was tempted to tell her not to put so much pressure on herself, but he refrained. Not only did he not want to distract her, but he also knew that Natasha thrived under pressure, so it was probably for the best to let her be.

FRIDAY finished rebooting the security cameras in the building, so Tony took up the job of keeping an eye on different rooms. Natasha seemed to be right so far - not a single person in sight. No one from SHIELD, and no hackers.

God, he really wished they had something else to call them. 'Hackers' practically screamed 'I have the vocabulary of a prepubescent teen'.

"One firewall up," Natasha said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. "Two more to go."

"When you're done, I'll give you a gold star sticker."

"Not a half-bad incentive."

"It's a tried-and-true method." Specifically on Peter. The kid his friend Ned loved stickers. Peter insisted this was true of all teenagers, no matter what they said otherwise. Tony figured the kid knew better than he did.

Huh. Maybe he needed to give Flash a sticker next time he met with Dr. Nguyen. That might encourage him to loosen up further. It was worth a shot.

"Boss, three people were apprehended at the central power station," FRIDAY reported. "They crashed into the grid, and empty bottles of alcohol were found in their car."

"So they staged a drunk driving scene," Tony mused. "Incredibly bland but perfectly effective. Thanks, FRI. Keep an eye out for further news."

"Yes, sir."

"And two down," Natasha said, cracking her wrists, undoubtedly stiff from typing so much so fast. "Have they gotten past your block yet?"

Tony crossed over to his suit, tapping the back to pull down a keyboard with a small screen above it. "Not yet," he said after a pause. "So I'd say we're making great time."

Natasha didn't respond, and he figured her attention was still glued to her task. Not that he was complaining - he wanted nothing more than to get back to the tower as soon as possible.

Then he remembered that he needed to be tracking the hackers' location, because he couldn't go home until they'd apprehended them or sent Natasha's 'connections' to do so for them.

Tony bit back a sigh as he tapped away at his keyboard, gradually working towards getting a lock on their location. They'd done well at disguising it, but far from impossible to break through. "Don't forget we have a little side trip to take after this."

"What, you don't want me out of your hair as soon as possible?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "For one, I told you that you aren't going anywhere until that cut of yours has healed. Two -" Ding. He had a hit. "Two, as your host, I am obligated to offer you an evening of entertainment."

Natasha chuckled, her gaze still steadfast on the computer in front of her. "It's a few hours past evening, but you've got my attention."

"Fan-tastic." He typed in a security key, and the program he was running began putting together the address based on the detected IP. "I know you're ecstatic to pick up our hackers."

Natasha didn't answer immediately, instead muttering a triumphant 'yes' as she presumably finished equipping the third and final firewall. She then spun her chair around, meeting Tony's gaze with an eyebrow raised. "You've got their location?"

"Any second now." As if one cue, there was a low beep from his suit as the street address was finalized. "11201 135th Stree…" He trailed off as he realized exactly where that house was. "You've got to be kidding me."

Natasha frowned, worry creasing her features. "What's wrong?"

Tony cursed as he read the address a second time, making sure that he wasn't imagining things. "Peter is currently at the house next door to our hackers." Knowing the kid, he'd have picked up on the fact that something strange was going on and planned to investigate it. Hell, he was probably already in the midst of an investigation. At least he'd had him pack his suit. "He's at a slumber party or something with his friends."

Natasha's frown deepened. "Peter? That's the teenager I met last time, right?"

"Yeah. We had on our matching Star Wars shirts."

Natasha chuckled. "Yes, I recall." She frowned again. "Are you worried he's going to get involved or something? He's just a kid, Tony. He probably has no clue what's going on."

He needed to tread lightly here. The list of people who knew Peter's identity did not need to grow any longer. "If Peter and his friends notice something weird going on, even if it's barely out of the ordinary, they will check it out. They're a regular… Mystery Gang, or whatever those Scooby Doo characters are called."

Natasha tilted her head. "Okay. How do you want to approach this?"

Tony knew they couldn't let the hackers go free. Wasn't even an option on the table. "I'll text Peter and tell him to keep his friends inside," he decided after a pause. "We'll go in the other house together to take care of the hackers, easy peasy. You'll need to have called for backup beforehand - whoever you know you can trust - that way we can turn them over immediately afterwards." He then sent her a stern glare. "You will also avoid hand-to-hand fighting at all costs, understand? Only long-range combat for you."

Natasha nodded, and he was silently grateful that she made no attempt to disagree. "Sounds like a plan."

A plan it was. He just hoped it would work.

xXxXxXx

"Peter, do you have any idea what's going on?" Ned asked as he slipped inside the bathroom, Peter's duffel bag hanging from his arm. "Did Mr. Stark text you? Is it related to that weird feeling you got earlier?"

"I'm not sure," Peter admitted, taking his bag and digging through it to pull his suit out from the bottom. "But there's something weird going on next door. And I'm going to check it out." He grabbed his shirt and yanked his over his head and shimmied out of his pants before he started putting on his suit. "What have you been able to find about the power outage since I texted you?"

"Well, thanks to the multiple backup generators that restored power to Flash's entire house including his WiFi, we've been nonstop bombarded with news alerts," Ned replied wryly. "Some drunk guys drove into the central power station. The entire city is in a blackout, but they're working fast to restore it because apparently there were electricians on site. Which is a weird coincidence, but I guess no one is complaining." He paused, frowning. "There was something else… Oh! Police have caught, like, a massive ring of people who were planning to rob banks during the blackout thanks to some anonymous tip they got earlier this evening."

Peter pulled his mask down over his face. "I don't think robbing banks was the real goal." He couldn't explain his hunch, necessarily, but he had a gut feeling the bank robberies and even the blackout were just a cover-up for something bigger. "I mean, what are the odds that people show up in the house Flash says has been empty forever and they don't lose power when the rest of the city does?"

"Definitely suspicious," Ned agreed. "Do you plan on telling Mr. Stark about it? It could be really dangerous."

Peter grimaced. "Eh… Maybe. I don't want him to get stressed, especially if it turns out to be nothing. Plus, Ms. Potts said he had to deal with an old friend tonight, which is basically code for a Rogue Avenger, so he probably has his hands full."

Ned nodded. "Valid."

Peter tapped the spider on his chest, the little drone breaking away to hover in front of his face at eye level. He had to stifle a laugh at Ned's excited gasp. "Okay. Go scope out next door," he instructed the drone. "Don't get caught."

The drone bobbed up and down before zipping out the open window.

"Dude, your life is so cool," Ned said in awe.

Peter grinned, though he knew his friend couldn't see it underneath his mask. "It's even cooler that I'm actually able to talk to you about it." He cracked his wrist. Not in reaction to Ned or anything. It was just stiff. "You'll make sure no one comes looking for me or tries to check on me, right?"

Ned gave him a thumbs up. "I'll tell them you're still feeling pretty nauseous and that you don't want to be around anyone."

"Perfect." Peter glanced at the clock on the bathroom wall. "I'll try to have Karen send you periodic updates. If I'm not back within… an hour, I guess, text Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts and tell him what I'm doing." He hoped it wouldn't get to the point, but he gave Ned his phone. "Your thumbprint should still be in it." God. He could already picture Tony's disappointed glare for getting involved when he'd been told not to.

Oh well. It wasn't like it was the first time.

"Don't worry." Ned puffed out his chest. "Your guy in the chair will not let you down."

"I know you won't."

The drone then returned, and Peter did his handshake with Ned before his friend left him alone in the bathroom. "Alright, Karen," he said as he made sure the door was locked again. "What's going on over there?"

"There are four men in the building," Karen began, the drone projecting a small, 3D hologram of the scene as she spoke. "Each is armed with a gun, though you should not discount the possibility that they have other concealed weapons."

Wow. Great start.

"They are all engaged on different computers. The room they are in is filled with extensive computer set-ups, including numerous PCs and a few laptops. The drone was unable to get a concrete read on what they are working on, but it appears they are having difficulty breaking into some unidentified secure network."

Peter frowned, pondering the notion of what network, exactly, they might have been trying to break into. Presumably something big and influential, or they wouldn't have had the massive set-up he could see in the drone's hologram. That kind of tech would have taken them hours to prepare. The FBI, maybe? The Pentagon? Even SI?

Huh. If it was SI, then that could explain why Tony had seemed so on-edge earlier. But it wasn't like Peter had any proof of his suspicions. And the only way to get proof would be to launch his investigation. "Alright." He pushed the window all the way open, hopping onto the windowsill as the drone returned to its place on his chest. "What's the best place to enter the building?"

"There is a broken window on the second floor," Karen replied. "Entering through there will lead you to the room adjacent to where the four men are."

"Copy that, Karen." He glanced around to make sure there was no pedestrian ambling by - it was nearing midnight and there was a citywide blackout, so it would have been weird if there was - before climbing out the window and crawling up onto the roof of Flash's house. He crouched behind the chimney, which shielded him from a majority of peeping eyes. At least those of anyone looking from the street.

A quick examination of his surroundings revealed that he could swing from a tree onto a balcony above the broken window, then from there he could crawl into the house through that very window with minimal disturbance.

"Karen, how secure is that balcony?" Peter whispered, relieved the thought had occurred to him before he catapulted himself onto it.

"It cannot withstand sudden, tremendous pressure," the AI said, showing him a schematic version of the balcony that highlighted the weakest parts in red. "But it should be safe for you to land on with caution."

Perfect. "Thanks, Karen."

"You are very welcome."

Peter shot a web up to a large tree branch, bracing himself against the chimney before swinging between the houses and landing on the balcony with a low thump. He remained frozen in place until Karen informed him that there were no disturbances from the men inside. He then carefully flipped himself over the edge of the balcony to above the window, sliding a glass pane upwards towards him. The high-pitched creak made him wince, but the sound was short-lived as he'd soon opened it enough to crawl inside. As the drone had shown him in the diagram of the house, there was indeed a dim light glowing from underneath the closed door that led out of the room. He also recalled the diagram had shown the four men to be facing away from the room he was currently in because of how their computers were set up, which meant if he acted fast, he could maximize the element of surprise and web all of them up at once.

"Karen," he started to whisper, "can you activate -"

"You have a text from Tony Stark," Karen interrupted. "Would you like me to read it?"

Peter bit back an annoyed groan. Adults always seemed to interfere at the worst times. "Alright, fine. But make it quick!" He didn't want to be overheard and therefore completely squander his advantage of a surprise attack.

"The message reads: 'You and your friends stay inside. Something sketchy is going on at the abandoned house next door to Flash's. If I catch a certain red and blue superhero there, he's going to be grounded for a month.' How would you like me to reply?"

Wow. He couldn't believe Iron Man had used 'sketchy' unironically. "Don't." It was too late to turn back now. If he was grounded, so be it. "The best way to keep my friends safe is to provide a distraction. And ideally also to catch the bad guys."

"I understand, Peter." Huh. She'd been easier to convince than he'd thought. "What were you asking me before Tony Stark's message arrived?"

"Can you switch to web grenades in my right webshooter and taser webs in the left one?" His plan was simple: secure the men under a web grenade and then electrify their tech beyond repair. Then he could switch back to regular webs and finish tying them up manually.

"Certainly, Peter."

There was a quiet click as the settings shifted, and after a final examination of the men in the adjacent room through thermal imaging of his mask, Peter jumped into action.

The plan went perfectly. He busted the door down, shot a web grenade that caught all three men in a massive bundle, and successfully short-circuited their tech via a rapid stream of taser webs. They had no time to pull their weapons on him, and he disarmed them all before he webbed them up individually. He also made sure to web them against the wall with several feet between each. Just to be on the safe side.

"So," Peter said, staring them down. Not that they could really tell because of his mask. "Who wants to tell me what's going on here? What's with the fancy monitors and cables and all that jazz?"

"Shut up, Spider-Man," one of them sneered. He had a long scar running down his jawline. "You have no clue what you just interrupted."

"Um, duh." Peter leaned against a chair one of them had previously been sitting in. "That's why I asked."

The same guy scoffed and rolled his eyes, but said nothing else.

Peter then felt a familiar tingle on the back of his neck. The same feeling that had been pestering him all evening.

Something was wrong.

Wait. Hadn't Karen said there were four -

DUCK!

Peter trusted his subconscious, rolling to his left to narrowly avoid getting smashed on the back of the head with the barrel of a handgun. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, flipping up to land on a wall across from the fourth man. "Is that really how you should act when you meet your heroes?"

The newcomer to the party was a man with short gray hair and an expression of permanent irritation in his eyes. "Don't act so full of yourself, Spider-Man." He levelled the gun at him. "I should kill you right now."

"Aw, but where's the fun in that? We've only just met!" Okay. Peter needed to stall until he could figure out how to get the gun away from the man. "Besides, how do you plan on getting your friends out of their sticky situation if I'm dead? Don't tell me you plan on waiting 48 hours for the webs to dissolve. Surely your hideout and all your plans will be discovered if you do that."

He was lying through his teeth. But hopefully they didn't know that.

"Begging for your life," the man muttered. "Pathetic."

How rude.

Peter crawled across the wall, dropping to the floor beside a filing cabinet stuff so full that papers were practically spilling out of it. "Well, would rather I try to make demands? I figured that was kind of your thing, and I didn't want to overstep." Hmm. He could probably web the gun away, but if he did that, it was possible the man would still have enough time to fire once. And he really didn't want to get shot. Tony was always mad when that happened.

"No, that won't be necessary," the man replied coolly. "I don't plan on killing you." He gave him a cruel smile. "Spider-Man's identity is worth far more than Spider-Man's dead body."

Well, that wasn't terrifying at all. "So… you'll tell me what you're planning here and then let me go on my merry way if I, what - show you my face? I mean, I know I'm incredibly attractive and it's hard for you to resist that temptation, but I prefer when a guy at least takes me out to dinner first -"

"Oh my God, shut up!" the man with the scar shouted, but he was easily silenced by a look from the guy with the gun.

Peter nodded in understanding upon witnessing their interaction, brief as it was. "I get it, I get it," he said to the gray-haired man. "You're the Heather Chandler, and Mr. Scarface over there is your Heather Duke."

"Enough chatter." The man fired the gun. Peter ducked, then realized a second too late that the bullet had not been aimed at him as a monitor fell off the top of the filing cabinet and crashed down onto his head.

xXxXxXx

"This is it," Tony said as they arrived at the address he'd tracked. "FRIDAY, take a scan of the house and its surroundings, please and thank you."

"Got it, boss."

As FRIDAY started working on that, Tony turned his attention to Natasha, though he remained inside the Iron Man suit. "How are your bandages?"

"They're fine," she said, adjusting a setting on the widow bites in her bracelets. "And before you ask, yes, the painkillers are still working. I'm good."

Tony chuckled, because she was right - that was exactly what he'd been about to ask. "Just making sure."

"So what's the plan?" Natasha said after a pause, having finished toying with her widow bites. "You have a plan, I assume?"

"Always do. The plan is to first let FRIDAY finish pulling together schematics of the building and what's going on inside. Then we can figure out the best approach to get in, apprehend our bad guys, and get out."

Natasha nodded. "Some SHIELD operatives - informed by my connections, not me - are on their way now to pick up the hackers once we've incapacitated them."

"Great." Tony's gaze drifted to the house next door, also known as the house of one Flash Thompson. Where Peter and several of his friends were currently residing. Jesus, what were the odds of the two places being right next to each other? Of course, the location itself made sense for the hackers. Abandoned home but in a wealthy area, so plenty of access to high broadbands with low risk of disturbance. Still. A creepy coincidence.

"Bad news, boss," FRIDAY said through their private coms, meaning Natasha couldn't hear her, successfully pulling Tony out of his thoughts. "Peter is inside."

Tony had to bite his tongue to stop himself from letting out a string of curses. "Great. Fantastic." Had he not been inside a giant metal suit, he would have massaged his temples because he could already feel a killer stress headache coming on. "Alright. Fill me in."

"There are five people inside the house. Peter appears to have webbed three of them to a wall" - okay, not bad - "but he himself seems to have also been apprehended and is currently restrained with rope to a chair. My scanners detect that he is currently unconscious."

Tony knew at least half of his gray hairs had come from Peter. There was literally no other explanation. "Okay. Does it look like he's in immediate danger?"

Natasha gave him a questioning look that said, He?

Tony ignored it for the time being.

"There is one person in the building who is not restrained in any fashion" - right, probably a fourth hacker - "and does have a gun, but it is currently in its holster. He also has a knife strapped to the inside of his boot."

"Any other weapons in the building?"

"There are three guns webbed to a wall." Ah. Yet again, Peter's doing. "My scanners have also detected there was an extensive computer network set up in the room where the men are webbed to the wall, but the internal servers have all been completely fried."

"Taser webs?"

"I would not discount the possibility."

Tony sighed. So this was now a 'capture the hackers' and a 'rescue the Peter' mission. "Alright. Pull up a hologram of the building's layout, FRI, so Nat can see it all, too."

FRIDAY did as instructed, projecting a blue hologram from a light in the right forearm of his suit.

"Okay," Tony said, redirecting his attention to Natasha. "The good news is that our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man beat us here and took out three of our four bad guys for us!"

"Let me guess. The bad news is the fourth guy took out him?" Natasha said, trying and failing to hide her amusement.

"Brilliant deduction, Holmes. You hit the nail on the head. So what this means is we're going to have to work with just a little extra caution."

Natasha nodded. "Tell me what you need."

Tony examined the schematics FRIDAY had created, studying the numerous different entrances into the house. "We do have the element of surprise on our side," he mused. "Our best play might be for me to go in as a distraction, while you sneak in from behind and take him out with a widow bite to the neck." For one, that would keep her out of the direct line of fire. The last thing she needed was a bullet wound. And two, he would be the one face-to-face with Peter. Or Spider-Man, as he'd have to refer to the kid for the foreseeable future.

Natasha spun the holographic diagram around, deep in thought. "Cool," she finally said. "Sounds like a plan." She then waved the diagram away. "Ready to go?"

Well, it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. "Let's do it."

xXxXxXx

Peter woke to the sound of Karen reading information about his vitals.

"Mild concussion. Bruising to the ribs. Fracture in left wrist. Contusions on chest. Conditions are non-fatal and stable. Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark?"

Peter blinked as the world slowly became less blurry around him. He tried to reach up to rub his face, only to find that his hands were bound behind his back.

Hmm. That couldn't be good.

Although, the ropes weren't exactly sailor knots, so it wasn't like he couldn't break out of them in seconds. He just needed the world to stop spinning for a second.

"Prolonged lack of response may be indicative of greater neural trauma than first detected. Preparing transcript for Tony Stark -"

"No, Karen!" Peter hissed, relieved to note as the world finally stood still that no one else was in the semi-cluttered room with him. "I'm fine! I'm good!" Except for his growing headache and the dull pain in his wrist and his ribs and all over his body. Sounded - no, felt like the AI's scans had been accurate. "I was just trying to take in my surroundings."

It seemed like he was in a room that was once a library, based on the numerous bookshelves that lined the walls. The dust everywhere also indicated, however, that it had not been used as a library for a considerable amount of time.

"Karen, pull up floor plans of the house," he whispered. "Highlight the fastest way out."

"Certainly, Peter."

Unfortunately, however, as the AI began working on the task, the gray-haired man from earlier returned. Probably also the person who tied him up.

"Your webs are a pain in the ass, Spider-Man," he growled, shutting and locking the door behind him. "How the hell do you get rid of them?"

Peter was silently grateful his mask hid the giant smirk on his face. He'd worked for ages with Tony to increase the strength and longevity of his webs. "You need vibranium to cut them. Or, like I said earlier, you can wait 48 hours for them to dissolve. Your choice." The actual 'life' of his webs was actually closer to 24 hours, but he didn't need to share that.

The man rolled his eyes. "Of course. I should have known Iron Man's little protege would have shit like that." He then crossed the room towards Peter, crouching down to face him eye-to-eye. Eye-to-mask? Whatever. "You're lucky I'm not as violent as some of my friends you tied up, or else you'd be dead by now."

"I mean, you did drop basically an entire PC on me," Peter pointed out. "That's pretty violent."

The man ignored him. He then reached out and tried to pull off the Spider-Man mask. His attempt was met with no success.

"It's attached to my suit," Peter apologized as the man released his head, pretending that his hair hadn't just been violently yanked upwards. "I'm sorry. I know that's not the news you wanted to hear today."

The man promptly clobbered the side of his face. "Twat," he glowered. "Shut up."

Peter had a feeling his concussion had just been upgraded from mild to moderate. But on the bright side, Karen had started displaying the building's floor plan in front of him. He just needed to stop seeing double before he could properly examine them.

The man proceeded to pull a knife out of his boot, pressing the edge of the blade against Peter's throat. If Peter's head hadn't still been spinning, he probably would have felt very threatened by this action.

The pressure against his throat increased, which caused Peter's breath to hitch.

"What, it can't be cut either?" the man grumbled. "The hell is your costume made of?"

"Cotton polymer," Peter replied, annoyed his voice had chosen that moment to go up an octave when he was trying to be cool and sarcastic. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when the knife was removed from his throat. "Not easily sliced, unfortunately for you." Not the most difficult to penetrate, though. Which he kept to himself. "Shrinks in the wash, too."

The man sighed. "It's a shame. I really didn't want to kill you." He tucked his knife back into his shoe and pulled his gun out of its holster. "Your identity would have been useful. Probably would have raked me in several million from the people who do want to kill you. Still." He shrugged. "It's not worth the hassle."

Peter noted that Karen had finished highlighting the best route to break out of the house. Which meant that he just needed to stall and get the guy to lower his gun. If he could do that, then he'd be able to break out of the bindings and web the creep to the wall, no problem. The dizzy spells falling over him every couple of minutes weren't exactly helping, though.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Peter sputted, hoping he didn't sound too desperate as he scooted his chair backwards an inch or two. "You said you weren't the violent type, but blowing my brains out is like, really violent."

The man tilted his head, malicious amusement glittering in his icy blue eyes. "What, do you plan to give up your identity in the hopes I'll spare your life?"

No, I just need you to lower that gun half an inch, is what Peter wanted to say, but he bit his tongue and refrained. "Look, dude, I don't know who you are. I don't even know why you're here. All I know is that you guys were obviously trying to break into some important network, probably an upper-grade one because of all that tech you had. Which is very much an illegal activity. So I interfered. And for all my hard work, you want to grant me a death sentence? Totally unfair! What, you think I wanted to spend my Friday night like this?"

Hmm. Was that overkill? He wasn't sure - delirium had a greater hold on his brain than he would've liked.

His incessant rambling seemed to work, as the man did lower the gun. Slightly, but the seeds were planted.

"You have no idea what we were working on?" The man's voice was oozing with skepticism, but Peter didn't miss the glimmer of doubt in his eyes. "Really, Spider-Man, you expect me to believe -"

Whatever follow-up comment he'd had prepared was interrupted by a small explosion that shattered the door leading into the room and sent clouds of dust and wooden splinters flying everywhere. The man swivelled on his heel in response, levelling the gun at…

Peter groaned. He was so in for a lecture.

"Hi, Spider-Man." The dryness of Tony's voice was an odd contrast to the unblinking stare of the Mark 47. "Got yourself in a sticky situation?"

"No," Peter protested, standing up and easily breaking out of his bindings. Satisfying at the action was, it did earn the gun being pointed at his head again. And, unfortunately, the gun was considerably closer to his face than it had been to Tony's. Oops. "I had everything under control," he continued, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending that his ribs weren't screaming at him for the action. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'd already taken care of 75% of these guys."

Tony snorted. "Isn't that a C?"

"It's a supermajority is what it is."

"Enough!" the gray-haired man snapped. "Both of you." His grip tightened on the trigger, and Peter felt his focus increase by a hundredfold. Even his headache lessened. Huh. Must have been the adrenaline kicking in. "One more word from either of you and Spider-Man bites the dust."

Jesus, how old was this guy? Maybe the gray hair wasn't just a fashion statement.

There was a low whirring sound as Tony raised his right arm at the man, repulsor glowing with its typical white light. "You are in no place to make demands," he said calmly. "I suggest you put the gun down before I give you a hole in your chest bigger than the one in mine."

As impressed as Peter was with Tony's choice of threat, he instinctively stiffened as the man took a step closer to him. The light of the repulsor intensified in response.

"I said, not. Another. Word," the man growled.

Tony hesitated, then dropped his arm. "Okay. Fine. How about one more word? Just one. Then I'll listen to whatever you have to say."

The man's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at Tony's sudden cooperation, and Peter readied himself to activate his taser webs. "What?"

"One word, I promise! Ready? Here it is: surprise."

Peter ducked and rolled out of the way, but before he could fire his webs, blue electricity crackled around the man's body as the gun fell out of his hand and he collapsed to the floor. "What the -"

"Hi, Spider-Man." A woman with short red hair stepped out of the shadows from the back corner of the room, popping out an empty cartridge from a black armband on her wrist. "I do believe we've met before."

Tony rolled his eyes. Not that Peter could see it, but he knew he had. "Spare us the dramatic entrance, Nat." He gestured to her. "Spider-Man, Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as Black Widow. You met her in Germany when she proved herself to be a two-timer with the Capsicle, yadda yadda yadda. But you're both spiders, so I'm sure you'll get along swimmingly."

"Hi," Peter managed to say, offering his hand for her to shake. The non-injured one. "I'm Spider-Man." Which Tony had just said. Wow. Eloquent of him. "It's nice to meet you. Again."

Natasha chuckled, shaking his hand. "Same to you."

"Anyways," Tony said, stepping out of the suit, which promptly closed behind him and picked up the still-unconscious guman from the floor, tossing him over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Nat, can you go and start taking care of those goons Spider-Man webbed up for us? Get them picked up by whoever it was you contacted and do any necessary interrogation about who they work for?"

Natasha nodded. "Of course." She glanced at her armbands. "I still have half a dozen widow bites left in each, so if needed I can use a few to get information out of them."

"Uh huh. We get it. You're intimidating." Though Tony's voice had an edge of sarcasm, Peter could see a certain softness in his mentor's eyes. He was happy Tony had started to patch things up with Ms. Romanoff. It was probably better for the both of them. "Now shoo. I need to have a few words with Spider-Man."

She nodded again, giving Peter a friendly smile before leaving the room, the Iron Man suit following behind her.

Tony then returned his attention to Peter. Peter tried not to wince.

"Uh… Hey, Mr. Stark?"

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kid, I don't even know where to begin."

"Maybe with a 'good job'?" Peter suggested, absent-mindedly massaging his left wrist and cringing as he hit a sore spot. He was of the opinion that he'd been handling things pretty well on his own. A little risky at the end, sure, but still under his control.

"How about 'what part of do not get involved do you not understand'?" Tony snapped, glaring at him. "What were you thinking, Peter? You could have gotten killed!"

"I was thinking that I could handle a few computer lackeys, and I was right," Peter argued, pulling off his mask. "I was in the prime position to catch them, had the element of surprise, and saved you at least an hour of work by lending a hand. Ms. Romanoff is probably getting information super easily right now out of the people I webbed up!"

"Kid, you were captured. Nat and I had to come save your ass! Not to mention you completely ignored my text about staying inside. Even if you weren't going to listen to my advice, I would have appreciated a little warning about your involvement so I could have had a better idea of what to expect when I got here."

"Oh my God, you're not even listening to me." Peter bit back a sigh, reminding himself that he had to avoid sounding like a whiny teenager. If he wanted Tony to take him seriously, he needed to act more mature. Although his mentor was right that he should have least acknowledged the text he'd been sent. That was definitely on him. "Mr. Stark, I know it looked bad. But you saw how easily I broke out of his ropes! I was trying to get him to lower his gun, okay? Then I was going to knock him out and escape using a plan Karen helped me come up with. I swear, right after that I was going to contact you and tell you everything so you or someone else could come and - and round them up, or whatever." He'd thought it all through! Not perfectly, maybe, but at least more thoroughly than half of his attempts to apprehend the Vulture.

Tony looked like he wanted to continue arguing, but then he stilled himself and took several deep breaths. Some of the tension drained from his shoulders. "Okay. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and assuming that you'd rushed in blindly. I am also sorry for underestimating your abilities. You are a very capable superhero and I did not mean to suggest otherwise."

Peter had to consciously stop himself from gaping. "Um, who are you and what did you do with Tony Stark?"

Tony gave him a dubious look. "Kid, don't interrupt when I'm trying to foster healthy communication between us."

"Right. My bad."

Tony sighed before continuing. "Anyways. Like I said - I'm sorry for not believing that you had the situation handled. But." He sent Peter a stern look that reminded him chillingly of Ben. Or maybe that was just the concussion talking. "I do wish you had given me more warning of what you were planning, that way I could have provided more appropriate support. You understand where I'm coming from?"

Peter nodded, unable to keep a giant grin from breaking out onto his face. "Yes sir. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I promise I'll do better!"

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I know you will."

Peter started to comment on how he needed to get back to Flash's sleepover before anyone could get too suspicious, but before he could get more than half a word out he was slammed with another dizzy spell, probably worsened by the fact that he was standing up. He ended up stumbling forwards, Tony catching him with a surprised grunt before he could hit the floor.

"Whoa!" his mentor exclaimed, sitting him down on the chair he'd been tied to only minutes earlier. "What the hell happened there?"

"Don't worry, I'm okay -" Peter started to protest, but Tony ignored him.

"Karen, read me his vitals."

"Peter is currently suffering from a mild concussion, bruised ribs, and a fractured wrist," Karen reported. "His condition is stable, but it would be unwise to delay treatment longer than necessary."

"Traitor," Peter grumbled, though his words were again ignored. Now there was no chance he'd get to go back and hang out with his friends.

Tony sighed. "Thanks, Karen. Can you tell Pepper to set up another bed in the MedBay?"

"Certainly, sir."

Tony glanced at his watch. "It's still going to take about half an hour to get back, kid, so I'm afraid you're going to have to deal with the pain a little longer."

"It's not that bad," Peter insisted, though he made no move to stand, tragically aware that doing so would undoubtedly result in another dizzy spell. "But we can't go back to the tower immediately, anyways."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "And we can't do that, because…?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "We still have to establish my cover story. Duh." Tony was apparently as bad at secret identity stuff as he was.

No, wait. That totally tracked.

xXxXxXx

Sometimes Tony really hated it when Peter was right. But as much as those situations could annoy him, he also would never blatantly ignore when the kid made a good point, because that was more often than not detrimental to the both of them.

Which was why he was currently standing outside of Flash Thompson's house, waiting for someone to come answer the door.

Peter had pointed out that Spider-Man needed to leave so Peter Parker could be picked up from next door under the guise of being sick. Tony was honestly pretty impressed that the kid had already established a decent alibi. Of course, he supposed it helped that he had his friend Ned to cover for him, too.

Nat had definitely been suspicious of Spider-Man's hasty exit, but Tony had told her that he'd claimed he wanted to go help deal with victims of the power outage in the poorer parts of Queens, which she seemed to have bought. At least, she hadn't asked any further questions.

Peter, then, had swung back across to Flash's house and crawled into the bathroom through an open window. Tony watched him and had to pretend he wasn't terrified of the possibility that Peter could faint mid-swing and thus fall to his death. Much to his relief and that of his cardiologist's, Peter was perfectly fine.

Tony was pulled out of his thoughts when the door opened in front of him. "Hi," he said, plastering on a fake smile. "Peter told me he's not feeling well?"

"Uh…" Tony suddenly realized who'd answered the door - none other than Flash Thompson. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. It was his house, after all. "Yeah. I'll… go get him."

Tony felt his smile become a little more genuine. "Thanks. It's good to see you outside of business-related meetings, kid."

Flash offered him a tentative half-smile in response. "Yeah. You too." He stepped aside. "You can come in. While you wait. So you're not outside with the bugs."

Tony chuckled, accepting his offer and moving inside the house. "Much appreciated."

Flash looked like he wanted to say something more, but apparently decided against it, as he simply closed the door before heading upstairs. Presumably to go get Peter.

Well, the kid had certainly matured over the past few months, a conclusion he'd come to based on his own interactions with Flash as well as everything Peter talked about regarding him. Did Flash have a ways to go? Sure, but the fact that he was willingly making an effort to change was of the utmost importance. It had taken Tony nearly forty years to take that step himself.

Flash soon returned, a yellow duffel bag slung over his shoulder as Peter followed behind him. Tony tried not to wince - now that Peter wasn't in his suit, his injuries were far more clear. Especially the dark purple bruise forming on his left wrist. Maybe that was more than a fracture.

Tony accepted the duffel bag from Flash. "Thanks for inviting him over, and I'm sorry he has to leave so early."

Peter shot him a look that said, That's my line, but Flash didn't seem to notice.

"It's no big deal," he said, tone casual as he shrugged. "I can have another party when he gets better. My parents are away like half of every week, so there's plenty of time."

A pang of sympathy shot through Tony's heart. "I could also host something at the tower for all of you," he suggested. "You shouldn't be expected to host every time."

Flash hesitated, then smiled, considerably more genuine than before. "That'd be pretty cool."

They exchanged goodbyes before leaving, Tony helping Peter to the car where Natasha was waiting for them behind the wheel. She'd kindly offered to drive them back, which Tony wasn't going to refuse if it meant he could keep an eye on Peter's vitals during that time.

"You're such a softie, Mr. Stark," Peter teased as he climbed into the backseat. "Offering to host something at the tower for us like that."

"Please," Tony scoffed, making sure the kid was buckled in before crossing around the front of the car to get into the seat next to him. "I'm just a kind and generous person by nature."

"Uh huh. Sure." Peter was biting his lip to stop himself from laughing, to no avail. "That's totally it."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I come pick you up in the middle of the night and this is the thanks I get? Ungrateful." He glanced up at Natasha, who was watching their conversation with amusement via the rearview mirror. Although he would have preferred she kept her eyes on the road. "Anyways. Peter, you remember Natasha, right?"

Peter gave her a small wave. "Hi, Ms. Romanoff. It's nice to meet you. Again."

Tony could have sworn he saw recognition flicker in Natasha's eyes, but whatever it was disappeared as soon as it had come.

"Hi, Peter," she said pleasantly. "I'm glad to see Tony hasn't driven you crazy yet."

Tony rolled his eyes again. "Oh, come on. Is today 'International Be Cruel to Tony Stark Day'? You guys are relentless."

"Yes," was Natasha's smooth response. "In fact, that particular holiday is unique because it occurs 365 days a year."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"Aw, don't be so sour. At least you get Leap Day off."

"How generous of you."

As Natasha returned her attention to the road, Tony refocused on Peter. He was relieved to note that the kid's eyes had not glazed over nor did his skin look unnaturally pale, so those were good signs. Still. That didn't mean -

"You're just like May, Mr. Stark," Peter said with a laugh. "I can literally feel the worry radiating off of you. I'll be fine! It's just a mild conc-" He paused, gaze flickering over to Natasha, who was focused on making a left turn. "A mild stomach bug," he finished. "No big deal."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I know." Pepper had texted him, letting him know that the MedBay was ready for whenever they arrived. "But because your aunt isn't here to worry, I'm having to do it all in her stead. So get used to it."

Peter grinned at him. "Mr. Stark. You know you're just proving that you're a big softie."

"Kid, if you keep it up, I'm gonna ground you the moment you get better."

"What?! I didn't do anything."

"Verbal abuse. Emotional degradation by referring to me as a 'softie'."

"Wow. Okay. That's not at all petty of you."

Their banter continued all the way to the tower, partially because it was entertaining but primarily because Tony needed to keep Peter awake without explicitly stating so. As soon as they arrived, Peter was whisked away by Pepper to the MedBay. Tony started to follow, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry," Natasha said as he turned around. "I know you're worried about your kid. I won't keep you long."

Tony didn't have the energy to protest against her choice of 'your', the exhaustion of the day's events truly hitting him now that he was back at the tower. God, he was getting old. "You're fine. What's going on?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving. Now." She pushed her hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over her chest. "I indirectly handed over the hackers to the SHIELD ops I trusted, but I can't hang around any longer or else someone might connect me to you. If that happens, then all of the progress you've made with the Accords will be lost. I can't allow that to happen. You've worked too hard."

Tony wanted to argue. Wanted to insist that she shouldn't be going anywhere until she was fully healed. But she was right. "At least stay the night," he offered. "Give your body just a few more hours to rest."

Natasha gave him a gentle smile - an uncharacteristic expression that nonetheless suited her well. "Peter's right. You are a big softie."

Tony chuckled. "Well. Maybe a little."

Natasha sighed. "But like I said. I can't stay. It's not worth the risk." She took off her bracelets of widow bites, taking his hand and placing them in his palm. "I also should not be seen with any upgraded Stark tech. Just in case." She released his hand, tilting her head in the direction Pepper had taken Peter. "Take care of the little spider, okay? But look after yourself, too. Don't forget that he needs you just as much as you need him."

Tony wasn't sure how to interpret her comment, but the soft look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. "I'll do my best."

She smiled at him. "You always do." She hesitated, then left through a side door out of the tower, and within seconds she had disappeared into the night.

Tony watched where she'd vanished for a moment longer before heading down into the private MedBay, where Peter was hooked up to an IV and had a clean white bandage wrapped tightly around his left wrist.

"Hey, Mr. Stark!" he said cheerfully. "You just missed the doctor. Also, Ms. Potts said she was going to bed because she has an early meeting tomorrow."

Tony snorted. He couldn't blame her. He then sat down next to Peter's bed, having to push aside a chilling sense of déjà vu from doing the same thing with Natasha only hours earlier. "So what did Pierce say? Does it look like you're going to pull through?"

Peter laughed. "Yeah. With my super-healing, I should be fine in a day or two."

"Thank God. Otherwise I'd have to start charging you medical bills."

"I would be in debt for the rest of my life."

"Which is a bad thing, Mr. Parker, because it's a testament to how often you manage to get injured." Tony shook his head. "But on a more positive note…" He gave Peter a warm smile. "I'm really proud of what you did tonight, kid. I'm still upset you ignored my text, but I'm impressed with how well you handled yourself. Even if it did scare the hell out of me when FRIDAY said you were in the building, tied up and unconscious."

Peter laughed. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that." He beamed at him. "But thank you! I swear I'll get better with keeping you updated with all the other stupid decisions I make in high-risk situations, too."

"You are single-handedly responsible for all of my gray hairs."

Peter snickered. "Yeah, I know."

But if Tony was being honest?

He wouldn't have it any other way.

xXxXxXx

Fun Fact: my birthday is coming up in a few days, and the best present you lovely readers could give me is supporting your local, black-owned businesses/restaurants; buying and reading books on racial injustice and white supremacy; and continuing to support the BLM movement in any ways you can. (If you are financially struggling and therefore have limited options, I totally understand. Just do whatever you are able.) As always, you can leave me a prompt, but I write these oneshots completely on my own time whenever I feel inspired, so there is no guarantee of when I'll get to it. Also, thank you so much for the tremendous support you gave me with "There's a Fine, Fine Line"! I'm so happy you guys are continuing to enjoy these oneshots even though my writing style has changed pretty dramatically over the past few years. Thank you for reading!