Take Off The Mask // Son of Stark 2

Chapter 5

"Da-Dad?" Peter asked sheepishly from beneath the mountain of blankets he was hiding under. He had been there since eight, when Tony had been pulled into the meeting earlier that day.

The teenage boy was still confused: his Pops had said that the meeting - the accords, or whatever he had referred to them as - was going to affect him in a big way. But... what were the accords, exactly? The billionaire had assured him that he would inform him about anything concerning him that had come up in the meeting. However, Peter had doubts that his father would tell him the whole truth.

"Hey, bud," the genius said calmly. He nudged a pile of books to the side, before sitting down beside his son. "Aren't you meant to be sleeping right about now? Isn't it like... eleven at night?"

The teenager shrugged whilst rubbing his eyes. Eleven wasn't late for him anymore, especially with the occasional late night/early morning crime-fighting with his Dad. "You said you'd tell me if anything important happened," he slurred, blinking rapidly then waited for a second. "Did... did anything happen?"

Tony grabbed at one of the blanket's creases, fiddling with it in his hands. He could see his son fighting to stay awake, the need to know being the only thing forcing his eyes to stay open. If he told Peter, the kid would be worried sick... but if he didn't tell him, the boy would know he was lying. "Kid... every enhanced individual has to sign this contract."

"The documents Pops showed you earlier?" Peter whispered. The genius nodded in reply to him, unwilling to answer verbally. Peter could remember how angry the superstar-soldier was about the Accords earlier but his Dad has seemed willing to signit. Why did he sound so unsure now? The words every enchanted individual continued to rattle in his thoughts. "Would I have to sign it?"

The older man sighed, bringing his right hand to his chin so he could lean on it mid-thought. "I don't want you to-"

"What do you mean you don't want me to?" exclaimed the teen, sounding more lively and awake than he had at all that evening. "You...you told Pops that the Accords were a good idea, didn't you? You disagreed with him."

"And I still do," the billionaire said with a slight hint of rage in his voice. Yet, he was still keeping his calm relatively well, especially after the amount of 'definitely coffee, nothing stronger' he had consumed between the boardroom and the penthouse.

"But..?" Peter supplied.

"But, it's up to you. It would be dangerous. The UN could... they could d-deploy you for whatever battles they want. Even if I, or you, said no. You wouldn't have a choice. You'd be signing your life away..."

"You're fine with signing your life away," mumbled the boy, in defiance. He wasn't too sure if this was the route he really wanted to go down but if his Dad could do it, so could he.

"They'd know your identity, Pete... you'd have to sign both your alias and your real name. They'd make in public information. You're already in a hell of a lot of danger being my son. But as Spider-Man... well, we'd have criminals lining up outside to come kill you."

Peter took a deep breath, inhaling the information his Dad had given him. He'd only just became Spider-Man, or at least it felt like that to him, and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to take of the mask. But if it meant staying on the right side of the law- the law he was trying to keep, then he'd do it what.

"Whatever it takes," the young boy piped. If he had to do this to stay a law-abiding hero, he would do. "I'll... I'll do it. I'll sign. I will, Dad... I'll sign it. I'm Spider-Man; I can defend myself. And anyway, the Tower is well protected."

"Are you sure about this, kiddo?" Tony asked, wishing he hadn't given the boy a chance to make his own decision. The Accords would be fine for him... but for a vigilante, who still had a life to live, was it really such a great idea?

"Yep."

* * *

Steve leant against the wall, trying to calm his now-heavy breathing with its icy chill. His phone was still in his hand, the case shattering in his firm grip. The message was still on the screen...

She's gone. In her sleep.

The number was unknown but it was obvious who they were on about. Peggy. It broke his heart to say he saw it coming, after all he was a man out of time- all of his friends, other than Bucky, had grown old without him. Most had died. Her time had ran out, however morbid it sounded.

He could still have picture her, not a day older than when he first got his shield. Her hair kept back in neat braids, whilst her uniform was completely spotless. The brown sparkle in her eyes was still there even to the last time he had visited her... but it had vanished now. Now it was only him, and Buck. They were alone in the world.

Alone.

Peggy could have been alone when she passed... or as Steve would rather think, she had been surrounded by her carers: the people who had looked after her for the last few years. It was best not to think about it, though. Death and Steve Rogers didn't really get along.

His phone buzzed again. It was a text. From the same number as before.

It's Sharon, by the way. Carter. I'm Peggy's niece, we met a few times at Shield. The funeral will be this weekend. Peggy would want you to be there, to carry the casket. Maybe give a few words?

Could he do that without crying? Could he do that without breaking down into an endless pit of despair, unable to escape? Peggy would do it for him. She probably had already done it, when the world thought him dead.

Okay... I'll be there,

Thanks, Steve. She really did love you, you know.

She was a remarkable woman.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything else. It was too hard. The knot inside his stomach had grown tighter, tugging at him painfully. Had he felt feelings for Peggy, back then? Maybe... but it was only because feeling them for Bucky would have meant execution.