Stark Men Are Made of Iron

Just a Conversation

Peter took deep, calming breaths before he snuck back into his room, changed into his street clothes, and then snuck back out to come in the front doors. It was a roundabout way of keeping his secret a secret, but the teen didn't have much choice.

His heart was pounding as he rode up to the penthouse. If this were any other situation, he'd be running to tell his father, but how could he explain what he had heard without telling his father about how he had heard it?

Peter ran an uncertain hand through his hair just before he stepped out into the entrance way. Even though it was only 8 at night, the lights were down and there was no noise. No sounds of Rhodey and Happy teasing Tony, no Pepper passing food up and down the table, no after dinner chat in the living room.

"Hello?"

The teen poked his head through the living room.

"Hey." Natasha was sitting on the couch, facing away from the boy. "You missed dinner."

Peter's face went red. "I- I- I got- Ned and I, we were-"

"I know an excuse when I hear one. I don't need to hear yours."

Peter walked quietly through the penthouse. He came around the end of the couch to sit with Natasha only to find his father asleep on the couch, his head in Natasha's lap. The teen's eyebrows shot up.

"You missed dinner. Your father tried calling, you know, he probably called you a dozen times before Rhodey got the phone away from him." Natasha ran gentle fingers through Tony's hair, carefully working through the curls so she didn't pull too hard. "I know you won't tell me why you were out the entire day, or why no one could get a hold of you, or why it looks like you've seen a ghost how white you are, so instead, I thought I would tell you a little about what happened here. Your father made pasta - did you know he could do that?"

Peter nodded and Natasha hummed.

"It was very good. He made linguine and this beautiful sauce. It was cheesy and creamy and really flavorful. He made this broccoli dish on the side, too, he said it was one of your favorites. Crispy, baked broccoli."

Peter was hungry, his stomach growled a little. He hadn't eaten since before the scene at the office building and he suddenly felt the pull of hunger he'd been ignoring.

"And your father had a plan to talk to you about something, but he couldn't do that because you never came home. Do you know how worried he was, Peter? He was beside himself, calling and letting his imagination run wild about what might have happened. Happy went out looking for you at 5;30, Pepper and Rhodey took off about an hour ago to help him, and I just got Tony to sit still for a full minute. You owe everyone a very big explanation and a very big apology."

Peter stared down at his feet and shuffled a little, then brought uncertain eyes up to the assassin. "Help me come up with a-"

Natasha held up a hand. "I'm sure by now you've figured out there's something going on between your father and I. That is what he wanted to talk to you about tonight, but you missed out. As for your excuse, I am not going to help you with that. You can hate me if you want, you can think I am mean and uncaring - which, by the way, I am not - but I will not help you lie to Tony. He's a good man and an incredible father, and he means a lot to me. You're on your own."

Natasha looked back down at the man in her lap. Peter took the cue and left, his shoulders slumped as he thought of how much trouble he had caused. He sent a text to his family saying he was okay and back at home, stripped down to his boxers, and crashed onto his bed. There wasn't anything to patch up that evening, but tomorrow morning would be hard.

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The team had been called in for a meeting. It was an emergency thing, Fury said, but Tony didn't think there were any emergencies that called for a 5am meeting.

Everyone filed in, nonetheless, with sleepy eyes and half-full cups of coffee, and took their seats around the table. Fury waited at the head of the table, a presentation loaded up on the screen.

"Can we get started, please? I'm not really a morning person, and I have to go straight from this to training," Clint said tiredly.

"And I have to go scold my son, so really. Speed it up." Tony waved a hand.

Fury rolled his one good eye. "We've identified a potential threat to the Avengers."

Everyone sat up at that, looking between one another. A threat to a brand new superhero alliance that hadn't even got started on all the good they wanted to do yet? It was news to them. Bad news.

"How do we know its a threat?" Steve asked.

Fury went to his next slide on his presentation. There was a grainy picture, taken from way too far off, of Spiderman. He was mid launch, a trail of webs still tethering him to the building behind him, but his body was hurtling towards the other side of the street.

"This is Spiderman." Fury clicked through a few slides, each one with a different picture of Spiderman on it. "He's a new hero, we just picked up our first picture last week. He's been an asset so far, dealing with low level drug busts, muggings, suicides, etc. He's got the right intentions." Fury switched over to a photo of Spiderman, this one much clearer, scurrying out of a window.

"This was taken last night, however. By one of our own. There was a call to police at 4:13 about gun shots in the area. Police arrived and discovered evidence of HYDRA. SHIELD was called for back up. We had taken in the front doors when there was scattered gun fire. Spiderman was seen leaving the scene shortly after."

Tony scoffed. "And? It sounds like he's a decent guy, and I doubt he's really tied up in HYDRA if he's working weekends as a resident good guy. Isn't it possible he went in trying to stop HYDRA and just didn't know what he was getting into?"

Fury gave a curt nod. "Exactly the issue, Stark. We don't know, with any certainty, who Spiderman is or what his mission is. I want you guys to bring him in for questioning."

Steve laughed. "Won't that look a little odd? A group of superheroes capturing some kid off the streets when he's doing good things?"

Fury's face was cold. "Just do as you're told, Rogers, and remember. We told the world this group was designed to keep them safe. Is it too much to ask that we do our homework on these new heroes before giving them a clean bill of health?"

The team shared weary glances, but they knew Fury was right. They owed it to the people in New York to check this guy out before he got too big.

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Tony and Natasha rode up to the penthouse together. Tony was prepping his first ever "I'm disappointed" speech, and Natasha was helping.

"-so I want you to tell me where you were last night."

"He won't tell you," Natasha said, a slight sing-song in her voice. Tony smiled at her, despite how upset he was. "He already asked me last night to help him come up with an alibi. Whatever he gives up this morning will just be a story he and Ned cooked up."

Tony pursed his lips and leaned against Natasha's side. She hooked an arm around his waist. "I know."

"What are you going to do?"

Tony sighed. "We're going to have a conversation, and when we're done with that, I'm going to let it slide."

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"When I was a kid, my father was always absent, and the only times he was ever around, he wanted to control my every move. When I went out and missed events or showed up late, it didn't matter if I told the truth or if I lied, I always got a good beating." Tony winced a little and Natasha pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I'm going to let my son lie to me because he needs to know that I trust him, even when I know he's lying. Peter's a good kid. He's not out partying or drinking or sleeping around. He's not me. I can trust he's making good choices, even if he isn't tell me about them."

The elevator dinged and the two walked out into the kitchen to make their second batch of morning coffee and to wake Peter up. It was time for a conversation.