Melancholy Hope {Spiderson&Irondad}

Chapter 4

Natasha's POV (Assume it's Peter's pov unless otherwise stated)

Tony said he was coming by the tower with a surprise, which was exciting to say the least. We were all on edge for a mission or at least something close to, all of us desperate for some time out of the compound. A reason to use our strengths other than training.

Pretty much all the avengers live at the compound, at least part time. Steve and Bucky have their own place in Brooklyn. Clint has Laura and the kids. Wanda and Vision have their own place, somewhere secret. Loki and Thor have Asgard. Tony and Rhodey have the tower. Bruce has a cheap apartment in a few other countries and one in a nearby state though he likes to just spend his time between the tower and the compound. I'm thinking about getting a place, but for now I'm good holding down fort here.

We've all started making our own lives outside of the Avengers which is nice. We all deserve a little peace and quiet for once.

All of us are at the compound now, waiting for Tony, Steve, Bucky, Rhodey and the surprise in the big living room. Thor and Loki are out, Asgardian duties apparently. And Vision isn't here for whatever reason.

"Hey, guys!" Tony shouts as he wanders into the room. The three other avengers follow suit.

And then a kid walks in.

He's got big brown eyes, pale skin with little freckles making constellations on his arms. He has a curly mess of brown hair, and a soft, nervous smile. There's a bruise of every hue of purple on his prominent cheekbone, another few on his arms. There's a sort of empty sadness behind his innocent eyes.

"Hello, friends. This is my version of a formal introduction to my kid, Peter Parker. I'm currently fostering him. Pepper thought that I needed something more to ground me in life. More than just her, considering how busy she is with the company. So I started fostering Peter," Tony introduces, giving the kid's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The kid smiles a bit wider, a blush dusting his cheeks, and he ducks his head a little bit, looking up at us through his thick eyelashes.

"Hi," he murmurs, flushing under our confused gazes.

"How old are you, kid?" Clint asks, frowning as he looks the kid over.

"15. Been in the system for 11 years," the kid says dutifully. "Been living with Mister Stark for 3 weeks now."

"11 years?" Bruce echoes, eyes wide. "I've read about the foster system before... and it doesn't sound..." he trails off again, unsure how to continue.

"Sounds kinda sucky, right?" A sort of humorless laugh follows, and suddenly he's grinning brightly again as though he wasn't just speaking of something traumatic. "Excuse me, Miss Black Widow, my friend, MJ, was wondering if she could get a quote from you for her history project?"

~

Peter's shy and quiet as though he isn't sure whether or not he's allowed to speak. But once he's more or less comfortable, he's starting to become a cute kid.
He's currently rambling to Bruce about gamma rays and radiation, something a 15 year old kids probably shouldn't even know about. I'm half listening, half wondering what the hell this kid has gone through. He looks tired. Not even physically tired, but emotionally exhausted. Like he's always waiting for something to go wrong, he just doesn't know what. It's sad.

"Hey, Peter, can I talk to you?" I ask, touching his elbow gently. Stupid motherly instincts or whatever. Clint's kids have rubbed off on me, I guess.

He smiles nervously and follows me off to the kitchen, without a word of protest.

"Um, what's up, Miss Black Widow?" he says, averting his eyes to the floor and playing with his fingers.