How Far We've Come

Chapter Fourteen

"That's your plan? That's it?"

Tony knew Fury wasn't a dumb man, but it felt like Fury was trying to prove he was indeed intellectually deficient.

"Please, Stark," Fury replied. "Share with the group your genius plan that doesn't involve those two knuckleheads getting their hands on your tech."

Tony snapped his fingers. "Jarvis, send all the suit prototypes and anything that isn't my personal bright and shiny ride into the safe. Pronto."

"Initiated, sir. All suits and tech shall be locked up within two minutes. Shall I lockdown all computers as well?"

"I've got an even better idea. Back up all the computers on my server and wipe them. You can reinstate them after Tweedledee and Tweedledum are back on their way to algebra. Or prison. Whichever comes first."

"As you wish."

"You see that, Fury? That's how helpful people are supposed to sound."

Fury huffed and rolled his eye. "Are you done?"

Tony stroked his chin and thought about it. "Sure, I'm done."

"Finally," Clint murmured.

"So, what? We're just sitting ducks until they get here?" Peter piped up. He was rubbing his scar, worry spread across his features even as he fought to stay stoic.

Fury shrugged. "The chances of anyone getting onto this floor are minimal. It's a bunker. Plus, Stark's tech is locked away and the quinjet isn't here. Being sitting ducks is the best possible way to make sure they don't get anything else from us."

Nat rubbed her forehead. At some point between when she took the elevator and when she strode over to the table, she had changed into her usual suit. No one was brave enough to ask where the dress went.

"What are we going to do if they get into the tower? Just let them run around until they get bored and leave?" Peter was scratching at the scar now, his fingernails audibly removing the top layers of skin. "I mean, what if they- I don't know! Find something else? Corner us?"

"Kid, you could defeat Supergirl with your eyes closed," Tony said. Well, maybe not. Peter looked one punch away from a nap. "It's going to be fine."

Peter shook his head furiously. "No, it's not going to be fine! Last time you guys went up against these people- last time you-"

Steve gently took Peter by the arm and pulled him to the other side of the floor, out of earshot and sight of the rest of the team.

The city lights spilled through the bay window, illuminating Peter's face.

He wasn't crying but he wasn't breathing either.

"Peter, what is it? Is this because of what happened at the school?" Steve didn't want to embarrass Peter by giving him a hug or touching his face. He knew teenage boys didn't want their dads comforting them in public.

A nagging voice edged its way into Steve's mind, whispering maybe Peter just doesn't want comfort from you. Tony has always been his favorite dad. Everyone knows that.

"No, no, it's- it's not like that!" Peter coughed into his fist, gasping for air like he was coming up after a long swim. "Pops, it's not-"

"Take a breath." Steve glanced over his shoulder. No one was looking their way. The team had respectfully turned their backs to them.

"Alright, look out at the skyline with me. C'mon. Turn your back to them," Steve instructed. "No one's looking at us. It's just you and me. Just you and me."