Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Peter was having a good day. Well, that what he thought when he left the apartment this morning.
His morning had been fine. May had to work a night shift the day prior, so she was asleep when he woke up, but other than that, it was fine. It was when he got to school that it became weird.

Guy in the chair—Hey man, I’m not gonna be at school. Can you send me the notes?

Spooderling—Yeah, you good?

Guy in the chair—Yep, just um not really feeling the best, and my mom mentioned something about helping her. Idk man, I’ll talk to you later.

Spooderling—OK man, feel better.

 

The bell rang as Peter got up out of his chair to go to his second period of the day. Luckily for him, MJ was in it, so he wouldn’t be bored out of his mind without Ned.

“Hey MJ,” Peter said as he got out his materials for Mr. Harrington’s chemistry class.

MJ looked up.
Her pencil froze halfway across the page.
For a split second, genuine fear flashed across her face before she carefully smoothed it away.

“…Hey.”

Then she turned back to her sketchbook.

“What’s going on? What’s with the face?” Peter asked.

MJ looked at Peter and contemplated for a minute before turning back to her sketchbook and drawing.

Okay…….

That was weird.

MJ wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, but she always said something. Even if that something was insulting him.

The day continued on slowly and dreadfully building up anticipation as 2:45p.m. hit. Once the bell rang and Peter bolted out of the classroom and headed outside to avoid Flash, he hadn’t had an encounter with him today, and he wanted to keep the streak alive.

Nearing the pickup area, his eyes scanning as they landed on Happy’s car, he headed towards it. When Happy started honking at him to hurry up. He climbed into the back seat and greeted the forehead of security.

“Hey Happy, how’s your day been? Mine’s been pretty boring. Ned wasn’t here, and MJ has been acting weird. Idk, but man am I tired. I stayed up way too late spidermanning and—“

He was cut off by Happy putting up the divider between the back and front seats.

“Love you too, Happy,” Peter said sarcastically as he reached into his backpack and pulled out his homework. He wanted to get a jump start on it before arriving at the tower.

Once they reached the tower, Peter waved to Happy goodbye and strolled towards the building. He doesn’t know exactly when this place became a home to him, but he isn’t complaining.

Walking into the front lobby of Stark Tower never got old. No matter how many times you have been there, it always will manage to catch you starstruck. He said hi to Emily, the front desk clerk, and headed towards the employee elevator, greeting the ones he knew along the way.

Once he made it to the penthouse, he was immediately greeted by Pepper.

“Peter! Just the man I wanted to see.”

“Hey, Pep, how’s your day been?”

“Good, Tony has been in the lab all day, so… you have fun with that!”

Pepper briskly exited the room to go attend to “Boring CEO stuff” as she called it. Peter started to head towards the lab. As he neared, he could hear Mr. Stark blasting AC/DC, which lowered the volume in accommodation for Peter’s super hearing.

“Pete! Hey, how’s life? How have you been? What’s happening?”

“Good….. are you okay, Mr. Stark? You are acting kinda weird.”

Mr. Stark sighs and puts his head in his hands.
“It’s been a long day….. long story short, the Avengers are coming back to the tower, permanently.”

Peter was torn between excitement and rage. On one hand, he had never met the Avengers, and they were his childhood heroes. On the other hand, these were the people who deliberately hurt his mentor and part-time father figure.

“When are they coming?” Peter said, trying to mask his emotions to the best of his abilities.

“Tonight.”

 

“Whaaaaaaaaat?!”

Chapter Text

A few hours had passed since Tony had casually dropped the biggest piece of news Peter had ever heard.
“The avengers are coming back to the tower permanently.”

Peter had stared at him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain had finally recovered.

“The… the Avengers?”

Tony had rolled his eyes.

“…Really?”

“yes, kid. The Avengers.”

Since then, Peter had accomplished absolutely nothing productive.

He’d tried to read.

Failed.

He’d wandered through three different floors of Stark Tower.

Failed.

He’d attempted to finish his chemistry homework.

He’d spent twenty minutes writing his name before realizing he hadn’t answered a single question.

And through all of it, his thoughts kept circling back to the same thing.

The Avengers were coming back.

To Stark Tower.

Today.

Peter should have been excited. He knew that. Most people would have been bouncing off the walls at the idea of meeting the Avengers.

But every time he tried to feel thrilled, his brain dragged him back to the memory of Tony coming home after the fight with Captain America—tired, bruised, and pretending he was fine when Peter knew he wasn’t.

That was the part Peter couldn’t get past.

He admired them. He really did.

They were the Avengers.

But they were also the people who had hurt Tony.

And Peter didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that.

He was currently sitting on one of the couches in the common area, bouncing one leg so fast it blurred.

“You know,” Tony said from the kitchen, “if you keep doing that, you’re gonna launch yourself into orbit.”

Peter forced his leg to stop.

“Sorry.”

Tony looked over the rim of his coffee mug.

“You’ve apologized at least six times.”

“…Sorry.”

Tony sighed dramatically.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck.

“I just… I don’t know.”

Tony’s expression shifted a little, the teasing easing off.

“You don’t know what?”

Peter glanced toward the elevator, then back at Tony.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about them coming back here.”

Tony leaned against the counter.

“About the Avengers?”

Peter nodded once.

“Yeah. I mean, I know they’re, like, heroes and everything. But you got hurt because of them.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Tony’s face didn’t change much, but Peter noticed the way his jaw tightened just a little.

“Bambino,” Tony said carefully, “I got hurt because I made a choice. That’s not on them.”

Peter frowned.

“It kind of is if they were the ones on the other side.”

Tony studied him for a moment, then set his mug down.

“You’re allowed to have feelings about it.”
Peter looked down at his hands.

“I know. I just don’t know which feelings are the right ones.”

Tony’s voice softened.
“Who said that feelings had to be right or wrong?”

Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Tony pushed off the counter and crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside him.
“For what it’s worth,” Tony said, “I have forgiven them.”

Peter glanced at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Peter nodded slowly.

That helped.

A little.

Not enough to stop his stomach from twisting when—

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open.

Peter’s entire body went rigid.

Steve Rogers stepped out first.

Peter’s chest tightened immediately.

He looked exactly like the man from the news.

The man Tony had argued with. The man Peter
had seen on the other side of the fight that had left Tony hurt and angry and trying way too hard to act like it hadn’t mattered.

Tony stood up.
“Look who finally decided to show up”
Steve smiled faintly.
“Good to see you too, Tony.”
The two men shared a brief look before backing off, as if there was approval between the two.

It wasn’t awkward.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It was just… familiar.

Peter watched it happen and felt even more confused.

He didn’t know if he was supposed to be relieved or annoyed or something in between.
“Steve,” Tony said, turning toward him. “Meet the kid.”

Peter froze.

He told Captain America about me?

Steve walked over and held out a hand.

“So you’re Peter, Tony’s intern correct?”

Peter stared at the offered hand for half a second before hurriedly shaking it.

“Y-Yes, sir.”
Steve smiled.

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’”

Peter immediately nodded.

“Right. Sorry. Captain. I mean Steve. No—that feels weird. Captain is good.”

Steve chuckled.

“Captain works.”

Peter tried not to look like his brain had short-circuited.

Before he could recover, the elevator opened again.

Natasha Romanoff stepped out carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. She spotted Peter immediately.

“Who’s this?”

Tony signaled toward Peter

“Peter Parker.”

Natasha gave him a once-over.

“You always this nervous?”

Peter squeaked.

“…Maybe.”

A tiny smile crossed her face. “Cute.”

Peter’s face immediately turned bright red. Tony laughed into his coffee.

The next arrival practically filled the elevator.
Thor ducked slightly as he stepped out, Mjolnir hanging comfortably from one hand.

“Ah good friend Anthony is this the intern you speak of?”

Peter blinked.

Tony shrugged.

“I might’ve mentioned you.”

Thor crossed the room in three long strides before offering Peter a handshake.

Peter accepted it.

Thor shook enthusiastically.

Peter’s entire arm vibrated.

“A strong grip!”

Peter somehow managed not to yelp.

“Thanks?”

Thor beamed. “I like him already.”

The elevator chimed once more.

Bruce Banner stepped out with several boxes balanced in his arms.

“Oh.”

He smiled when he noticed Peter. “You must be Peter.”

Peter nodded.

“Dr. Banner.”

Bruce laughed.

“Bruce is fine.”

Peter internally screamed.
Bruce is fine. Bruce Banner just told me to call him Bruce.

Finally, Clint Barton wandered out carrying a pizza box.

He stopped dead when he noticed Peter.
“…Who’s the teenager?”

Tony answered immediately.
“My intern.”

Peter nodded automatically.

“Intern.” Clint looked unconvinced.

“You keep saying that.”

“And one day you’ll believe it.”

“I won’t.”

Peter couldn’t help laughing.

It was strange.

These were the people he’d watched save New York.

The people he’d seen on television.

Heroes.

Legends.

And yet…

Thor was already asking where the pop tarts were.

Clint had stolen two slices of pizza before anyone else reached the box.

Natasha was teasing Steve about unpacking too neatly.

Bruce was trying to convince Tony to recycle the mountain of cardboard boxes piling up by the elevator.

They weren’t standing dramatically in formation.

They weren’t saving the world.

They were just…

People.

A very strange family.

Peter looked at them all, then at Tony.

Tony looked tired, but he was smiling.
Really smiling.

And that made something in Peter’s chest loosen just a little.

Maybe the Avengers weren’t just the people who had hurt Tony.

Maybe they were also the people Tony had trusted enough to let back in.

That didn’t make Peter’s feelings any less messy.

It just made them harder to sort out.

Tony glanced over at him, catching the look on his face.

“What?”

Peter shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve got the look.”

“What look?”

“The ‘this is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me’ look.”

Peter laughed, but it came out a little uncertain.

“…Maybe.”

Tony smirked.

“Get used to it, kid.”

Peter looked around the room again.
The Tower, which had felt so empty over the past months, suddenly buzzed with conversation, laughter, and familiar voices.
For the first time since the team had fallen apart, Stark Tower felt alive again.
Peter still didn’t know exactly how he felt about the Avengers.

Excited, maybe.

Nervous, definitely.

A little angry, too, if he was being honest.
But mostly, he was relieved that Tony wasn’t alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Peter stared at the screen for a long moment after the conversation ended.

We need to talk.

Three words.

Three horribly, impossibly ominous words.

Ned didn’t say things like that.

Ned rambled. Ned accidentally spoiled movies. Ned texted entire paragraphs about Lego sets at two in the morning because he’d found a limited edition piece online. The only time he was ever this short was when something was actually wrong.

Peter sighed, dropping his phone onto the mattress before rubbing his face.

“Great,” he muttered to himself. “That’s… not concerning at all.”

His mind immediately started racing.

Did something happen at school?

Did someone figure out my identity?

Did he accidentally tell someone?

Is he mad at me?

Did I do something?

By the time he was brushing his teeth, he’d already come up with at least twelve worst-case scenarios.

⸻

The rest of the school day didn’t help.

Ned acted…

Normal.

Well, mostly.

He still laughed at Flash getting detention. He still made terrible Star Wars references during chemistry. He still copied Peter’s calculus homework five minutes before class.

But every now and then Peter would catch him looking over with an expression that almost looked…

Nervous.

Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Every time Peter tried to bring it up, a teacher interrupted, the bell rang, or Flash decided it was the perfect opportunity to remind everyone how “Penis Parker” had almost walked into a locker because he was distracted.

By the end of the day, Peter still had absolutely no idea what Ned wanted to talk about.

Which somehow made everything worse.

⸻

By the time Happy picked him up outside Midtown, Peter’s anxiety had successfully shifted gears.

Because tonight…

Tonight he was having dinner with the Avengers.

His stomach twisted.

“Kid.”

Peter looked up as Happy opened the passenger door.

“You look like you’re about to throw up.”

“I might.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“You’ve literally fought aliens.”

“Yeah, but aliens don’t judge your table manners.”

Happy snorted.

“Fair point.”

⸻

Stark Tower was somehow even busier than it had been yesterday.

Agents moved equipment through the lobby.

Boxes were stacked everywhere.

Someone was arguing with a delivery driver over three industrial espresso machines.

Peter carefully stepped around a drone carrying what looked suspiciously like an entire couch.

“…Is it always like this?”

“No.”

Happy watched two interns sprint after a runaway cleaning robot.

“…Actually…”

A loud crash echoed from somewhere upstairs.

“…Maybe.”

⸻

The dining room looked almost unreal.

The long table was already set.

Actual plates.

Real silverware.

Candles.

Peter immediately became painfully aware that he’d almost worn his chemistry club hoodie.

Tony walked in carrying two bottles of sparkling water.

“There he is.”

Peter straightened instinctively.

“Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Relax, kid.”

Tony pointed toward the table.

“Nobody’s allowed to be formal during dinner.”

“…Really?”

“Nope.”

Tony looked toward the ceiling.

“FRIDAY?”

The familiar Irish voice answered immediately.

“Yes, Boss?”

“House rule.”

“I have updated the reminder. Formality protocols disabled for dinner.”

Peter blinked.

“…She has dinner protocols?”

“I have four hundred and seventeen dinner protocols.”

“…Of course you do.”

Tony grinned.

“See? She’s learning.”

⸻

One by one, the others filtered in.

Steve offered Peter a warm smile.

“Good to see you again.”

Peter nearly dropped his glass.

“You too, Captain—I mean—Steve—I mean—”

“It’s okay.”

Steve laughed.

“You can call me whichever is easier.”

Natasha slipped into a chair across from Peter.

“So you’re the kid Tony won’t stop talking about.”

Tony looked offended.

“I do not talk about him that much.”

“You absolutely do.”

“I mention him.”

“You gave Bruce a twenty-minute presentation.”

“It was twelve.”

“It was twenty.”

Bruce looked up from the bread basket.

“It was twenty-two.”

Tony frowned.

“Traitors.”

Peter wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

⸻

Dinner actually…

Wasn’t terrible.

Thor enthusiastically insisted Peter try Asgardian honey.

Clint somehow turned dinner rolls into a trick-shot competition.

Bruce politely answered Peter’s questions about gamma radiation before Tony interrupted to tell Bruce he was “making the kid even nerdier.”

Peter laughed harder than he’d expected.

For the first time all day…

He started to relax.

⸻

“…So then,” Clint said, “the bird stole Steve’s sandwich.”

“It was one time.”

Steve sighed.

“It was absolutely not one time.”

“It learned.”

Thor nodded solemnly.

“The bird was worthy.”

Everyone laughed.

Then—

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Tony looked up.

“FRIDAY?”

Silence.

Then—

“Good evening, Boss.”

“…It is currently…”

A pause.

“…Tuesday.”

Everyone froze.

Tony slowly lowered his fork.

“…FRIDAY.”

“My apologies.”

Another pause.

“It is approximately…”

“…fish.”

Peter blinked.

“…Fish?”

Bruce frowned.

“That’s… not good.”

The lights flickered again.

Then every screen in the dining room suddenly lit up at once.

Security cameras.

Weather radar.

A recipe for blueberry muffins.

Three stock market graphs.

One image of a llama wearing sunglasses.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Clint stared.

“…I kinda wanna know where the llama came from.”

“I am eighty-seven percent certain,” FRIDAY announced proudly, “that the llama is tactical.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No.”

“It possesses sunglasses.”

“I noticed.”

“Sunglasses increase tactical efficiency by… Tuesday.”

Bruce coughed into his napkin, trying not to laugh.

Natasha wasn’t even trying.

Steve looked deeply confused.

Thor pointed at the screen.

“I trust the llama.”

Peter had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

⸻

“FRIDAY,” Tony said carefully, “run a diagnostic.”

“I have diagnosed the problem.”

“Great.”

“What is it?”

“I am experiencing…”

A long pause.

“…vibes.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Peter looked around the table.

Bruce looked like he was going to choke.

Clint had buried his face in his hands.

Natasha was openly laughing now.

Even Steve’s shoulders were shaking.

Tony closed his eyes.

“…Kid.”

Peter looked up.

“Yeah?”

“If you ever become an AI engineer…”

“…don’t let this happen.”

Peter nodded solemnly.

“I’ll add it to the list.”

Another screen flickered.

The tactical llama disappeared.

Only to be replaced by a giant bouncing DVD logo that somehow never touched the corners.

FRIDAY spoke again, perfectly cheerful.

“I have resolved the issue.”

Tony looked around at the blinking screens.

“…You absolutely have not.”

“Confidence is important, Boss.”

This time, even Tony laughed. The tension broke instantly as Bruce stood to help diagnose the system, Peter eagerly following after him while the rest of the Avengers continued joking that perhaps the tower was now under the command of a highly tactical llama.

_________________________________________

“Sir we have successfully overridden the security protocols, but one itty bitty problem, FRIDAY seems to be trying to put out a distress signal”. The woman near the computer said.

Hammer paced around the room furiously. “I TOLD YOU I need Friday at my command, she has all of the answers to take down Tony stark!”

“Sir you might want to look at this” the woman said with a hint of joy in her voice.

The screen showed Peter walking into Stark industries and taking the elevator up to the top floor that no one else has access to.

“ the system says that he is some sort of high level intern”

Hammer observed different prices of footage from around the tower including Tony Stark himself having an intern in his personal lab.

“ Elena I have a plan.”

Chapter Text

Peter had barely made it to his locker before someone grabbed the strap of his backpack.

“Don’t move.”

Peter froze.

“…MJ?”

“Correct.”

Before he could turn around, another hand landed on his other shoulder.

“And me.”

“Ned?”

“We’re cornering you.”

Peter blinked.

“…Is this an intervention?”

“Maybe,” Ned said.

MJ nodded once.

“Depends on your answers.”

Peter looked between them.

“…Should I be concerned?”

“Very.”

Peter sighed dramatically.

“I haven’t even had first period yet.”

MJ crossed her arms.

“Phone.”

“My… phone?”

“Take it out.”

Peter slowly pulled it from his pocket.

“…Why?”

Ned exchanged a glance with MJ.

“You first,” MJ said.

Ned swallowed.

“I got a text a few night ago, Ned too.”

Peter frowned.

“…Okay?”

“From a number I don’t know.”

Peter’s stomach tightened ever so slightly.

“What did it say?”

Ned unlocked his phone and held it out.

Unknown Number

You’re Peter Parker’s best friend, right?

Peter stared.

His smile disappeared.

“When was this?”

“Like… midnight.”

“You didn’t answer?”

Ned looked offended.

“Peter.”

“…Right. Sorry.”

MJ silently unlocked her own phone.

“I got one too.”

She handed it over.

Unknown Number

You seem observant. Keep watching Peter Parker.

Peter looked up immediately.

“What?”

“There was another one this morning.”

She scrolled.

He’ll need someone paying attention.

Peter felt his stomach sink.

“…That’s not funny.”

“I know,” MJ said quietly.

Ned shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“I thought maybe it was Flash trying to be weird…”

“But Flash can’t spell ‘observant,’” MJ interrupted.

“…True.”

Peter looked between them again.

“You guys should’ve told someone.”

“We’re telling you,” Ned said.

“No, I mean—an adult.”

“We wanted to know if you knew anything first,” MJ replied.

Peter tried to think.

Had he pissed someone off while patrolling?

Had one of Vulture’s old associates gotten out?

Had someone recognized him?

No.

No one knew.

They couldn’t.

“…I don’t know who sent them.”

MJ watched him carefully.

“You sure?”

Peter forced himself to meet her eyes.

“…Yeah.”

She held his gaze for another few seconds before nodding.

“I believe you.”

Peter wished that made him feel better.

It didn’t.

Ned rubbed the back of his neck.

“So…”

“So?”

“…We’re not dying, right?”

Peter let out a laugh despite himself.

“No.”

“You hesitated.”

“I absolutely did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

“You watch too many movies.”

“Says Spider—”

Ned stopped himself.

Peter shot him a look.

“Dude.”

“Sorry.”

MJ sighed.

“Regardless of who sent them…”

She took her phone back.

“…Be careful.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

The warning bell rang overhead.

Students immediately began pouring into the hallway.

Ned adjusted his backpack.

“Text us if anything weird happens?”

Peter smiled.

“When does weird not happen to me?”

Neither of them smiled back.

Peter’s own smile faded.

“…I’ll text.”

⸻

As the three headed toward class, none of them noticed the man sitting inside a black sedan across the street.

He lowered a pair of binoculars.

“They’re suspicious,” he said into a small earpiece.

A woman’s voice crackled back.

“Does Parker suspect anything?”

The man watched Peter disappear into the school doors.

“…No.”

A pause.

“Good.”

The line went dead.

The sedan pulled away from the curb, disappearing into morning traffic.

Peter never even looked up

Chapter Text

Dinner had somehow become a tradition.

Peter wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened.

Maybe it was because Tony insisted that “family meals prevent billionaires from becoming complete gremlins.”

Maybe it was because Thor had declared Midgardian pasta “a gift worthy of Valhalla.”

Or maybe…

Maybe Peter just liked that, for a little while each evening, nobody was Iron Man or Captain America or Spider-Man.

They were just…

People.

Very strange people.

⸻

Peter wandered into the dining room a few minutes early.

“Hey, kid.”

Tony didn’t even glance up from the saucepan he was stirring.

“Need anything?”

“Yeah.”

Tony pointed with the wooden spoon.

“Set the table.”

Peter laughed.

“I walked right into that.”

“You absolutely did.”

⸻

By the time everyone arrived, the room buzzed with conversation.

Thor was enthusiastically explaining why syrup belonged on nearly everything.

“It improves morale.”

“It improves diabetes,” Clint muttered.

Natasha snorted into her drink.

Steve looked genuinely horrified.

Bruce quietly accepted defeat and poured Thor more syrup.

Peter couldn’t stop smiling.

This…

This was nice.

⸻

“FRIDAY,” Tony called.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Status report.”

A pause.

Then—

“I have determined that approximately… forty-two percent of this meal is emotionally supportive.”

Peter blinked.

“…Emotionally supportive?”

“The garlic bread appears encouraging.”

Clint leaned toward Peter.

“I think she’s getting worse.”

“I heard that, Agent Barton.”

“…See?”

⸻

Halfway through dinner, Peter found himself relaxing.

Actually relaxing.

Steve asked about school.

Bruce wanted to hear about Peter’s science fair projects.

Thor listened with complete seriousness while Peter explained web fluid.

“Young Peter has created artificial silk?”

“…Sort of.”

“A brilliant warrior.”

Peter ducked his head.

“It’s really just chemistry.”

Thor slapped him on the shoulder.

“Exactly!”

Peter nearly face-planted into his mashed potatoes.

⸻

Tony smirked.

“You’ll get used to him.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“You won’t.”

Thor smiled proudly.

⸻

Laughter echoed through the room.

Peter looked around the table.

Tony was arguing with Clint.

Natasha was making sarcastic comments every few seconds.

Steve was pretending not to laugh.

Bruce looked happier than Peter had ever seen him.

For just a moment…

Everything felt normal.

⸻

Then—

Every hair on Peter’s arms stood up.

His stomach dropped.

The familiar buzzing sensation exploded through his entire body.

His senses

Strong.

Stronger than he’d ever felt.

Peter froze.

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

The smile vanished from his face.

⸻

Tony noticed immediately.

He’d seen that expression before.

Usually seconds before something exploded.

“Kid?”

Peter didn’t answer.

His eyes darted toward the windows.

Toward the ceiling.

Toward the hallway.

Every instinct screamed—

Danger.

⸻

Tony’s own posture changed.

Years of experience took over.

“Everybody…”

His voice was calm.

“Quiet.”

The room fell silent instantly.

Even Thor stopped talking.

Peter slowly stood.

His breathing had become shallow.

“…Peter?”

Steve frowned.

“What is it?”

“I…”

Peter swallowed.

“I don’t know.”

His voice barely came out.

“But something’s wrong.”

⸻

The silence stretched.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Nothing happened.

Clint shifted.

“…False alarm?”

Peter shook his head.

“No.”

The buzzing only grew stronger.

⸻

Tony was already moving.

He trusted Peter’s instincts.

“FRIDAY.”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Security sweep.”

A pause.

“I have completed the scan.”

“And?”

“I found…”

Another pause.

“…lasagna.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

“FRIDAY.”

“I may have scanned the kitchen.”

Bruce sighed.

“Still malfunctioning.”

⸻

Peter’s pulse hammered.

Too quiet.

Way…

Too quiet.

Then—

Glass exploded inward.

Peter moved before he consciously decided to.

His thumb slammed against the face of his Stark watch.

Twin web-shooters unfolded over his wrists.

With one sharp flick—

A webline shot across the room.

Captain America’s shield, resting against the far wall, jerked free.

Steve’s eyes widened.

The shield rocketed across the room—

Straight into Peter’s waiting hand.

A split second later—

Something struck the vibranium with tremendous force.

The impact echoed through the dining room.

The shield shuddered violently in Peter’s grip.

For one stunned heartbeat…

Nobody moved.

Peter slowly lowered the shield.

Embedded in the center was a flattened metallic dart crackling with blue electricity.

Tony stared at it.

“…That was aimed at me.”

Peter nodded, still breathing hard.

“I know.”

⸻

Steve was already moving toward the shattered window.

“Everyone down.”

Natasha disappeared from her chair almost instantly.

Clint reached for his bow.

Thor stood, Mjolnir in hand.

Bruce carefully guided Peter away from the broken glass.

⸻

“FRIDAY!”

Tony barked.

“Seal the Tower.”

“I have begun…”

A pause.

“…playing jazz.”

Soft saxophone suddenly filled the room.

Everyone stared at the ceiling.

Tony slowly closed his eyes.

“…Not jazz.”

“My apologies.”

The music stopped.

Then resumed louder.

⸻

“Boss?”

FRIDAY asked cheerfully.

“I may have misunderstood.”

⸻

Peter almost laughed.

Almost.

His spider-sense hadn’t faded.

If anything…

It was getting worse.

Much worse.

Somewhere in the Tower…

Someone was already inside.

And whoever they were…

They hadn’t come for Tony alone.

The feeling sitting heavy in Peter’s chest told him something he desperately wished wasn’t true.

They were looking for him.