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Let’s do this one last time. My name is Peter Stark, I was bitten by a radioactive spider and for about 4 years now I've been New York’s one and only Spider-man (maybe more, maybe less… Hey! A purple guy snapping half the universe off picture for five fucking years makes it harder to know!). I’ve lived my life trapped in a glass tower, I’ve been trained by deadly assassins and known how to pin an avenger to a mat before I could even talk properly… but the one thing I have never done, like, EVER, was school. Yeah, you’ve heard me, I fought in the battle of earth and have led strategy during the invention of time travelling (I still don’t get enough credit about it, or so says dad anyway) but never even got close to a real classroom. I get it, dad’s childhood wasn’t the best, Howard was an asshole, the press were a bunch of nosey creeps and he was a mess. He does not want me to live surrounded by money seeking fake friends and not even a bit of privacy. Then of course, is the danger of having a target on my back, but that was actually one of the less worrying things, considering I could bench press a bus if I wanted to.
Dad was next to me tinkering with some stuff. We were working on the dumbest and most awesome way to throw money, time and tools away: making real and working lightsabers. I loved the workshop. Dad did too. We’ve been working on that for god knows how long and time was either going to fast or we where just so focused on it that we didn’t notice FRIDAY sounding as annoyed as an AI can be: “Ms Potts requires your presence in the dining quarters, she says, and I quote: ‘Bring your asses up here or I swear to god I will personally make sure you don’t get to that lab ever again’”.
That was two hours ago.
Suddenly the lights turned off and we both jumped. Then, thanks to my sometimes not so convenient enchanted sight I knew I was in trouble (my powers were courtesy of a bio-engineered spider meant to kill the great Tony Stark who found his son instead, good news? I’m not dead (yepee!) and the weird part? I am now a superhero who is biologically stronger than Captain fucking America). Mom was there, standing in the doorway and I didn't need the lights to know she was pissed.
Shit.
“Dinner is ready, I called you two hours ago, TWO HOURS! Because I knew you weren’t getting there in time, and here I am, right about it, AGAIN.” She said trying to sound angry and failing at the attempt. “Sorry Pep, yeah we’re going there” Dad said. Mom was the only person who could get Tony Stark to do something without getting any compliant or sarcastic remark. “You heard the boss, time for dinner, Underoos”. I just sighed, rolled my eyes and stood up.
Dinner was just as chaotic as always. Clint was just taking french fries, tossing them in the air and catching them with his mouth with an accuracy only Hawkeye could achieve. Steve was laughing, that warm sound that made me feel two inches taller. Nat was already done eating, so she was just resting on Cap’s shoulder, he smiled. They have been dating for about two years now. Bruce was just anxiously tapping on the table, but when we arrived he stopped, relieved we were all there now. Thor looked at the food on the table and refused to eat it, instead, he was holding a box of Pop-Tarts near his chest, as if his life depended on it. “So… are you excited for your birthday tomorrow, Маленький паучок?” I chuckled, she started calling me little spider the second I became Spider-man. “Yeah, but I still just hope dad doesn't burn the kitchen trying to bake a cake… again”. Dad took his hand to his chest, fakely offended. “To be fair I am positive the heat distribution was shitty”. Steve just shrugged. “Keep telling yourself that, Stark”. Tony gave them a smirk “if you all have so much problem with my cooking you can start forgetting about eating good Cacio e Pepe” I just stared at him. He might not be the best in the kitchen, but for some reason I could never understand, when he was doing Maria Stark’s recipes they were the absolute best. “I take that back, dad, you can burn the kitchen if you want” Mom looked at both of us. “No you can’t Tony, you can’t”. We all just laughed till our stomachs hurted. “Time for bed, Pete”. I nodded, I usually would protest, but I was just too tired. I kissed mom and dad, waved to the rest and headed to my bedroom. I crashed into the mattress, and I’m pretty sure that it didn’t even take me an hour to be fully asleep.