Half-Bloods and the Government (What could go wrong?) Pjo/Avengers

Chapter Six

Sooooooo, I've finally updated. I'll have a longer note at the bottom of the chapter!

Peter

Previously

"Hey kid, we figured out how to spy on mystery boy."

Peter, startled by his mentor's sudden appearance, nearly fell off the bed. He opened his mouth to ask how they were going to do it when Tony cut him off.

"You're going to Goode Highschool."

     Peter stumbled into the kitchen of the avengers tower, or rather, Stark tower, (I know that he technically doesn't own it anymore, but just roll with it) and closed the open window behind him. Sure, he could've gone in through the door like a normal person, but what would be the fun in that? Angling his face towards the ceiling, he said "JARVIS, where is Mr.Stark right now?"

     JARVIS's calm voice rang throughout the room. "He is currently in his private lab, would you like me to notify him of your arrival?"

     "No, that's okay, I want to see if I can scare him."

     Peter made a beeline towards his favourite vent, all of which were conveniently large enough for anyone Clint's size or smaller to crawl through, and clambered quietly inside. He didn't need to wrack his brain for the directions to the lab, as travelling through the vents was one of his favourite ways to get around the tower. He didn't have to worry about steep drops or vertical vent shafts, as he could climb them quite easily, so he was almost more at home in the vents than Clint. Speaking of Clint, he passed one of his stashes about halfway to Mr.stark's lab. They consisted of sealed chip bags, a few blankets, one or two arrows, a miniature first-aid kit, and a can or two of assorted pops. These stashes were scattered all throughout the vents of the tower, and came in handy during the extensive prank wars that were often active among their little super-family, although Peter suspected that they were also partly a product of the paranoia that Clint had earned over his years as a spy.

     A few more turns and Peter was silently crouched over the vent covering that would allow him access to Mr.Stark's personal lab. There was loud AC/DC blaring through the room, so Peter didn't have to worry too much about being heard as he slipped out of the vent and crawled across the ceiling towards his mentor, who was leaned over a table furiously scribbling calculations on a scrap piece of paper. Why Mr.Stark was using paper for his ideas when he had so many electronic devices that he could record them on instead all around him Peter didn't know, but he'd learnt to roll with it over the past couple months living with Tony. Aunt May had taken a coveted work opportunity which required her to be abroad for long periods of time, and although she visited as much as possible, Peter had moved in with the Starks so that he wouldn't be alone. He missed Aunt May dearly, but he had really clicked with the group of individuals living in the tower, and loved it there.

     Creeping slowly closer and closer to the distracted man, Peter got so close that he could make out the writing on the scrap of paper before he made his move. Dropping heavily from the ceiling onto the floor behind Mr.Stark, he shouted and shook his mentor's shoulders roughly (Not too roughly though, he had to be careful with his enhanced strength). Mr.Stark shrieked loudly, flailing his arms towards Peter before catching sight of his assailant.

     "PETER! DEAR GOD CHILD, YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME! I COULD'VE DROPPED DEAD FROM A HEART ATTACK RIGHT THERE!"

     Peter couldn't answer, as he was curled into a ball clutching his stomach, trying to breathe through the laughs wracking his body.