The Stark Tower conference room hummed with the low frequency of a dozen quiet conversations. Morning light slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching dust motes suspended in the air like tiny galaxies.
Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, one eye fixed on the holographic display that flickered with satellite imagery of a remote Hydra outpost in the Carpathian Mountains. The Avengers were scattered around him—Tony leaning back in his chair with a coffee in hand, Steve standing rigid with his arms crossed, Natasha perched on the edge of the table, half-listening.
The briefing had been going for exactly eleven minutes.
The door slid open with a soft hiss.
Peter Parker
stumbling through, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, backpack half-zipped Sorry! Sorry, I'm—traffic was—there was a—a dog. A dog ran across the road and I almost hit it and then there was a detour and—
Tony Stark
raising an eyebrow over his coffee mug That's the fifth time this month, kid. You're lucky Fury hasn't started charging you late fees.
Steve Rogers
Peter, we're glad you're here. a pause But you've been late to almost every briefing since... January?
Peter Parker
settling into a seat, avoiding eye contact I've just been—busy. With school stuff. And Stark Industries intern stuff. And—
Clint Barton
leaning forward, eyes narrowed Busy. Right. Six months of "busy" that has you showing up looking like you just ran a marathon through a bakery.
Fury's single eye flicked from Peter to the Avengers, then back. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Nick Fury
Parker's here now. Let's move on.
Natasha Romanoff
tilting her head, studying Peter with unnerving focus You have a hickey, Peter.
Peter Parker
hand flying to his neck, going scarlet I—no—that's a—a spider bite. A really weird spider bite. Very weird. You wouldn't believe the—the swelling—
Bucky Barnes
flatly Spiders don't bite you on the neck, kid.
Sam Wilson
snorting Not unless you're doing something that puts your neck in range of a spider.
Peter's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He looked desperately toward Fury—who suddenly seemed very interested in the holographic map.
Tony Stark
standing, walking around the table slowly You know what I find interesting? You cancel plans. You flake on team dinners. You're never available after 6 PM. But you won't tell anyone why.
Tony stopped directly in front of Peter, crossing his arms.
Tony Stark
So either you've joined a cult, you're running a secret side hustle, or—
Clint Barton
grinning —you've got a girlfriend.
Peter Parker
squeaking What? No! I mean—no one said anything about a—it's not—
Steve Rogers
Peter. gently but firmly If you're in some kind of trouble, we can help. But you need to talk to us.
Peter Parker
I'm not in trouble! It's just—I can't—
Nick Fury
voice cutting through like a blade That's enough.
Silence. Everyone turned to Fury. He was no longer looking at the hologram. His eye was fixed on the group with an expression that made Tony take an instinctive step backward.
Nick Fury
Kid's personal life is his own business. Now sit down and pay attention to the mission briefing, Stark, before I decide to have your coffee privileges revoked.
Natasha Romanoff
quietly Director, we're just concerned—
Nick Fury
Concerned isn't running background checks on a seventeen-year-old's social calendar. The briefing. Now.
The tension in the room thickened. Peter stared at his hands. The Avengers exchanged glances. Something was very, very off.
Wanda Maximoff
softly, almost to herself There's someone. He thinks about someone. A lot.
Peter's head snapped up. Wanda's eyes had gone slightly unfocused, the faintest trace of red threading through them.
Wanda Maximoff
Someone he cares about. Very much. her head tilting And he doesn't want us to know about her.
Fury's fist slammed against the table.
Nick Fury
Romanoff.
Natasha Romanoff
meeting his eye, unflinching Yes, Director?
Nick Fury
through gritted teeth Who gave you authorization to use your powers on team members without consent?
Natasha Romanoff
No one. a pause But someone should've told us we had a new teammate.
Peter had gone very pale. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air charged with something unspoken.
Thor
confused, looking between them Pray tell—who is this maiden?
Tony Stark
crossing his arms, looking at Fury with new eyes Yeah, Nick. Who is she? And why does your reaction to us asking about her feel like you're hiding state secrets?
Fury's hand moved slowly to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the tension there. He looked at Peter, then back at the assembled heroes.
Nick Fury
low, resigned Stark, get the coffee. We're going to need it.