They’re all here, arrayed around the polished mahogany table. Tony Stark, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression, idly spinning a holographic schematic between his fingers. Steve Rogers sits ramrod straight, hands folded, his gaze fixed on the door. Natasha Romanoff is a study in stillness in the corner, her eyes missing nothing. Bruce Banner fidgets with his glasses. Thor, by the window, seems to be admiring the clouds. Sam Wilson and Clint Barton are having a low, muttered conversation. Bucky Barnes is a silent presence at the far end, his metal arm resting on the table, his eyes downcast. Peter Parker, trying and failing to look casual, keeps shooting nervous glances at the adults.