Gang Life (PercyxAvengers) (PeterXPercy)

The Tension Inside of This Interrogation Room Is Astronomical

I'M BACK GUYS

THE COVID DIDN'T KILL ME (i'M a bAd BitCH yOU cAn't kiLL Me)

THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND SUPPORT EVEN THOUGH I BARELY UPDATE

***Warnings***

· Explicit Language (as always)

· Slight Nudity(?)

Chapter 7:

Tony's POV:

After gently taking the baby again and assuring the young gang member she would stay within his sight in a cozy baby stroller Clint had managed to dig up from god knows where, I tightly cinch his arm back to the chair, making him let out a low grunt.

'He's still a criminal,' I remind myself.

Bruce heaves over his medical box and gets to work mending Jackson's wrist, which is still sticking out at an abnormal angle.

He waves his hand towards me in a nonchalant manner. "You can go ahead and start the sponge bath."

I almost choke on my own saliva.

"Excuse me, what?" My eyebrows shoot up. "Hell no. I'm not his mom."

Bruce rolls his eyes. "Well, you're a whole lot closer to being his mom than I am; so just get to it, Stark."

My mouth falls open. "What the hell do you mean by that? I'm— Hey wait a minute." I spin around, throwing out my arms. "Steve! I know you'd—"

"Heavens no. I am the least qualified in the room for that." He takes a step back, eyeing the young criminal. "And Bruce is right, you're technically the closest to being his moth—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shut up, you old popsicle. That just makes it even more—"

"My mom's dead," Jackson interrupts with a deadpan expression, eyes glued to the baby not far in front of him. "So can we stop having this conversation and just fucking get on with it?"

I grimace, mentally smacking myself.

Idiot. You knew that.

"If you'd just let me shower by my damn self, you wouldn't be having this problem." Jackson attempts to shift in his seat. (A/N I feel like it's important for you guys to know that I accidentally typed that as "attempts to shit in his seat" the first time)

I sigh. "Yeah, you already know we can't do that. I guess I'll just..." I step forward and awkwardly rest my hand on the boy's shoulder.

Jackson scowls at it from the corner of his eye. "Hurry the fuck up."

Biting the inside of my cheek, I resist the urge to smack the kid and instead slip a small knife out of my pocket.

My hand clasps the part of his shirt that's not already popped open, holding it away from his body as I start to run the blade down it.

"Was it really necessary to cut my fucking clothes off of me?" Jackson gives me the side eye.

"Well I'm not taking your restraints off to meticulously unbutton your shirt, alright, kid?" I huff. "It's not like I want to do this." The dress shirt falls away.

The gang member just rolls his eyes.

I pull the rest of the shirt out of the way and throw it behind me, revealing his sweaty, but extremely sculpted torso.