“Off you go, honey.”

Morgan gives a timid smile and hugs her bag to her chest before shuffling into the classroom. Through the glass partition, Tony lifts his hand at Ms. Wigton in greeting.

Morgan has only been with them for a few weeks. New home, new school. She has not yet come out of her shell. She still doesn’t talk much, but she definitely smiles more often. So Tony thinks — prays — that she is starting to feel at home. She has had a few months of upheaval. When Tony and Pepper first met her, she was living in her third foster home in as many months after the unexpected death of the mother in her first foster home sent her carouseling through the whole system.

Within ten minutes of meeting her, Tony and Pepper knew they wanted to adopt. Morgan is six years old and, according to her file, a bright and sunny girl. Pepper and Tony haven’t seen that side of her yet, but it’s okay. They have time.

He gets back to the car and taps through his digital calendar: day, week, month. No red exclamation points, no major deadlines approaching, no backlog of work.

Pepper will probably appreciate it if he drops by her office. She is spending the morning interviewing potential new interns. Sweaty, nervous undergrads who will come in with portfolios and spreadsheets. Fun. Tony likes nervous people; they’re easy to rile up.

Maybe he’ll let Morgan have final pick when she gets home this afternoon. He already trusts her judgement more than his own. Especially when it comes to judging character, finding an intern who isn’t just a good brain but a good person.

-

He stands on his toes to peek out through the little window in Pepper’s door. There’s a handful of students waiting outside, all looking pale and nervous but deadly determined. Flipping through their notes, picking specks of dust off their clothes, exchanging frosty glares with their competitors.

But his eye is drawn to one candidate in particular. A kid who clearly made a desperate but mostly futile attempt to comb his hair before coming here. Wearing a suit he looks so uncomfortable in that it shoots straight past comical to just heartbreakingly endearing. Chewing on the nail of his thumb, his knee bobbing up and down. Looks about fifteen.

“There’s one who looks way too young to be a student,” he comments over his shoulder.

“Peter Parker,” Pepper says without looking up. “Signed up only a week ago, far past the deadline; is in high school. But his track record is impressive. His work is already beyond that of most of the other applicants sitting out there. So I gave him a shot.”

“Huh.” Outside in the waiting area, Peter Parker drops his pen, and then drops his clipboard when he bends down to pick up the pen. “Call him in first.”

“Actually, Jasmin Alloa is first, we’re going in alphabet—”

“Oh, come on, Pep, I want to watch the awkward teenager squirm and bumble his way through.”

“They are not here to do a little dance for your amusement.”

“Is that not what we’re hiring them for?” He turns, starts meandering through her office.

“Mr. Parker will have his turn in about an hour. How was Morgan doing this morning?”

“She chose her own cereal this time. She’s great at pointing at things with a demanding expression, she’ll make a fine CEO one day. Where’d you— Where’s that little ball clicky thingy you always had?” He imitates the motion with his hands.

She stands. “Newton's cradle.”

“Yeah.” He opens a drawer, shuts it. “Where is it?”

She moves past him, opens the door. “Miss Alloa, please come in.”

There are six candidates lined up, all vying for a single spot. They get fifteen minutes each to convince Pepper why they are the ideal candidate for the position, and if there is one thing Tony knows about Pepper, it’s that she is not easily convinced.

Peter is second-to-last on the list, because his ancestors didn’t have the common sense to pick a last name like ‘Anderson’.

Tony sits through three presentations. Three anxiously eager students who stutter as they shake his hand, who talk about integrity and leadership and work ethic and effective communication, who present data and blueprints and newly developed software. And yes, it’s all impressive work, they all seem ambitious. A little too ambitious, perhaps. Each time Tony goes to the door to call the next one in, his gaze is first drawn to Peter Parker who sits there in his too big, clearly borrowed suit and seems to be mainly counting the ceiling tiles.

“You can do the next one alone, right?” he asks when number four, a Kevin Liang is up. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

He goes upstairs, finds their travel mugs, holds his own one under the machine and presses the ‘espresso’ button ten times, then pours a regular black coffee for Pepper. With the lids screwed back on, he heads back downstairs.

And takes a seat right next to the teenager. “Hey.”

He had fully counted on the kid dropping his clipboard again or perhaps fainting on the spot. But Peter just says “oh, hey Mr. Stark, sir,” and swings his legs back and forth. “How, uh… How are you?”

“Looking forward to your presentation. Is your stomach doing gymnastics, yet?”

Peter lets out a disjointed laugh. “I… Yes, sir. But I’m confident I can win you over.”

“Good. I like confidence.”

“I stepped on a hotdog on my way here, does it show? Does my tie look okay?”

“You look very dapper.”

“I’m just, like…” Peter drops his voice to a whisper, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the only other candidate still waiting, Hannah Rahim. “I’m just a little thrown because there is a lady right over there with a whole diorama, and now I’m wondering if I should have made a diorama.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I think you stand a pretty good chance.”

“You don’t mind having a teenager around?”

“No.” If there is one thing Tony has learned about himself in the last months, it’s that he absolutely adores children in all shapes and sizes. He and Pepper agreed that they want Morgan to settle a bit, first, but he is already fully on board with the idea of getting a second kid, maybe a third.

“Do you like geophysical fluid dynamics?” Peter twirls his pen between his fingers. “Or dungeons and dragons?”

“I know my oceanography. But dungeons and dragons is too complicated for me.”

“I could teach you.”

“Count me in,” Tony says. “I wouldn’t include that bit in your presentation with the missus, though. I don’t think that’ll lead to points in your favor.”

“Do you like Teen Titans Go?”

That just so happens to be Morgan’s favorite show. “It’s growing on me.” It’s starting to feel like the kid is interviewing him. It’s amusing.

The door opens and Mr. Liang emerges from Pepper’s office, clenching his laptop to his chest. He gives the other candidates left in the room a bit of a frown before leaving.

“I think that means you’re up, kid.”

“Oh, god,” Peter murmurs, and grabs his backpack, and his clipboard, and his laptop. His pen flies out of his hand again and bounces off the seat before rolling to the floor.

“I got it.” Tony picks it up.

Peter wanders into Pepper’s office, his backpack dangling from his elbow, bouncing against his knee. He hoists everything up higher to clumsily shake Pepper’s hand. “Nice to meet you ma’am.” He dumps everything on the table with a relieved sigh. He drops his keys on the table as well. They slide off and tumble to the floor.

Tony hands Pepper her coffee which she accepts with a nod. “Do you need my laptop or did you bring your own?” she asks Peter. “Is your presentation in your email, on a USB…?”

“All of the above, ma’am,” Peter says. “I even have printed hand-outs. Leave nothing to chance, you know? I have bad luck. One learns to plan for contingencies.”

“Excellent,” Pepper says, approvingly.

Peter fumbles around a bit more and gets his presentation to appear on the large screen. God, Tony hopes it goes well. He really wants this kid in his company, undergrads are boring. “Floor is yours, Mr. Parker.”

“Right.” Peter puts his hands in his pocket. Takes them out and clasps them behind his back. “My name is Peter Parker. I’m fifteen years old. Let me preface my presentation by saying thank you for this opportunity. I am aware that I signed up late, but it was an absolute emergency. I hope to convince you today that I would be a great addition to your, uh, establishment.”  He makes air quotes around the word ‘establishment’ for some reason, but other than that, he’s off to a cracking start.

Peter moves to the next slide. “In the next fifteen minutes, I will give you an insight into my background, personality, and qualities, why I believe these are a great fit for you, and how I can be of value in my future role. I have allocated plenty of time for questions at the end.” He tugs at his own sleeves. “Does my tie look okay?”

“You look fine, Mr. Parker,” Pepper says.

“Also, no one cares,” Tony adds.

“Great,” Peter says, brightly. He moves to the next slide. “These are some of my good qualities; the result of a survey I did with all my teachers and current guardians.”

Positive, supportive, a fast learner, the slide says. “I also am very frugal and will always seek ways to help you save money,” Peter adds. Which— Tony really doesn’t give a hoot, but Pepper probably approves. “I’m… very adaptable. Like, I’ve done loads of adapting. I’m also very good at not being in anyone’s way.”

Tony almost spits out his coffee.

“And here are some of my most useful skills,” Peter continues, moving to the next slide. “I’m a great babysitter, lots of good references. I know how to disinfect a cut and what to do when the cat pooped in the sandbox. I’m good at loading a dishwasher, and I have experience unclogging sinks. I have fixed lots of copiers and printers. I also know about search engine optimalization and Python and Javascript.” The slide shows a picture of a band-aid, a dishwasher, a printer and a python curled around a tree branch.

This presentation is a disaster.

Tony has never wanted to hire someone more.

“Let me now give you three ways in which I hope to add value in my future role. I will support my case with relevant research, as requested.” He brings up a slide with a colorful pyramid shape, and sources cited at the bottom of the screen. “According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, feelings of safety, love and belonging are the most basic human prerequisites after their basic needs – air, food and water – are met.”

The next slide has a picture of a much younger Peter, around ten years old, sitting in the grass with a toddler in his lap. “I met Morgan when she was two and we moved into the same foster home.” He clicks and the next picture shows an older Peter with an older girl. Morgan.  …Their Morgan. The picture is like a slap in the face, whiplash, Tony’s heart drops straight through his stomach.

“We were in the same foster home for four years until Amy suddenly passed away, and we got separated after that which really fucking sucked. Shit. Excuse my language. During those four years I spent a lot of time with Morgan. I taught her how to jump rope, and write her own name, and I gave her a dollar when she lost her first tooth.”

“Hang on…” Pepper starts.

“I know this is her third home since then. And the attachment theory states that it is beneficial to a child to have proximity to a specific attachment figure in stressful situations. I think that’s what it says, anyways. I just read the excerpt; the article was behind a paywall. But that’s who I can be for Morgan. If you took her in, I think that means you want her to be happy, and I can—”

“Wait,” Tony says.

“Wait,” Pepper says.

Tony is either having a stroke, or there is actually a teenager in Pepper’s office giving a fifteen-minute research-based presentation on why he should be adopted by them.

“Therefore I put forth the following hypothesis. If I were to become part of your family, too—”

“Peter.”

“—Morgan would become twelve percent happier—”

“Kid.”

“—and the extra costs would be compensated by—"

“Peter. Stop.”

Peter falters. Then argues, weakly: “I have more slides. There are, uh. Prognoses. I guarantee you will see a consistent positive return on your investment.”

“Stop,” Pepper says faintly, both hands raised in front of her. “Just stop. Just… stop.”

Peter stops, clasps his hands tightly and presses his lips together. His throat bobs, his eyes shine.

“You are Morgan’s brother.”

“Foster brother,” Peter murmurs, his gaze skittering away. “Until three months ago.”

Pepper looks at the picture. Back at him. “There wasn’t anything in her file…”

“They probably didn’t want to scare anyone off. They thought she stood a better chance without—without me. But I know that’s not true. It’s not true. That’s why I made the presentation. If you’ll just allow me to… Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development states that—"

“Where are you living right now?”

Peter is clearly trying his absolute damnedest to keep it together, his words coming out more and more rushed as he blinks rapidly. “A—A group home. Only 58% of foster teens live with a family, compared to 95% of kids 12 and under. I— have a slide about that, too. It is caused by underlying assumptions that teenagers have too much baggage, or are in foster care because they were troublemakers at home. But I can assure you that I have consistently received positive feedback from previous foster—”

“Peter.”

He flinches. “I have references.” Some desperation is leaking into his voice. “And I could even support the team of Avengers if necessary because, coincidentally—”

“Peter. Stop.” Pepper sounds hoarse and panicky, but at least she still has the ability to speak at all. Tony has a million thoughts tumbling through his head and no idea how to put any of them in words. The room is lurching around him. When Pepper turns to him, all he can do is stare back at her with a paralyzed, helpless sort of bewilderment.

She purses her lips, forces in a breath, and turns back to Peter. “Just give us a minute. We just need a minute. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Wait outside for a moment.”

Tony thinks she must have walked him out, but he zoned out because the next thing he knows, the kid is gone and Pepper pulled her chair up until their knees touch. “Tony,” she says.

“Yeah. Present.”

“How are you feeling?”

How is he feeling. How is he feeling? Well…

“I’m in,” Tony says. “I’m in. Like, sign it, stamp it and seal it. That kid is insane. He’ll fit right in.”

She hums softly, a sparkle in her eyes. “FRIDAY?” she asks, raising her voice. “Can you confirm Mr. Park— Peter’s story?”

“I can confirm that he shared the same address as Morgan for a period of roughly four years,” FRIDAY says. “I can also confirm that according to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, feelings of safety, family, love and belonging are the most basic human prerequisites after—”

“Thank you, FRIDAY.” She exhales slowly. “Any other brothers or sisters we should be aware of?”

A short silence. “Both Peter and Morgan have had several foster brothers and sisters over the past months, but it was only the two of them living with Amy Collins for those four years. They were separated after her death.”

“Fuck the system,” Pepper breathes.

Tony laughs. It comes out sounding choked. Yes. Imagine being a social worker and having to choose between keeping two kids together, or taking them apart to give the younger one a better chance at a loving home.

Pepper stands, brushes a hand down her skirt. “All right,” she says. “I’ll jump on the phone. Will you go talk to him? Don’t want to leave him waiting.” It’s a decision made easily, firmly, because there is no other logical option available to them, there’s no point discussing options when there is so clearly only a single right one.

Tony steps out of the office.

Peter has collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands, his breaths stuttering. Candidate number six is in the chair next to him, one hand on his back, attempting to comfort him. “I’m sure you didn’t do that badly,” Tony hears her say.

He steps closer and clears his throat. “Thank you, miss Rahim.”

She jerks upright in her seat. “Mr. Stark.”

“I’m afraid we won’t have time for your interview,” Tony says. “But you’re hired. For the position.”

Her hands fall into her lap. “I… haven’t even given my presentation, sir.”

“Are you asking me to reconsider?”

“I just…”

“You have shown me something none of the others have, without even stepping into the office. You’re hired on that basis.”

Her brow furrows, she is working out a riddle.

“I will see you on Monday at 9 AM,” Tony says. “Now please skedaddle.”

She takes up her diorama and goes.

Tony squats in front of Peter’s chair, lays a hand on his knee. “Not gonna lie, you blindsided us, buddy.”

“Knew I should have m-made a diorama,” Peter stutters. He angrily scrubs at a stray tear. “I watched ab-about a hundred videos on YouTube from a bold guy who shouted a lot about job interviews, and he never told me to make a diorama.”

“What would it have looked like?”

“Just… Just four happy people together at the table. Playing a board game.”

“That sounds really good,” Tony says. “Dungeons and dragons?”

Peter sniffles.

“Well, guess what kid. You’re hired for the position of older brother.”

He wants to say something else, but Peter sucks in a breath and then barrels into him at full force, throwing his arms around Tony’s neck. Tony has to grab the armrest of the chair to keep himself from tumbling back.

“Oh my god,” Peter breathes, hanging on for dear life. “I knew I could do it. What won you over? Was it the picture of the python? That was funny, right? That was—” And then he breaks into hitched sobs and stumbles through another inaudible sentence that definitely includes the words ‘return on investment’.

Well. Obviously they need to dissuade him of that very quickly. But Peter will learn. They have time.

-

They pick up Morgan together, all three of them. She patters out the front door, her lunch box in one hand, a drawing in the other.

She sees them. Her eyes widen, expression morphing to shock, then delight. “Peter!” And she runs forward, the drawing fluttering in the wind. Peter bends down to pick her up, drops a kiss on her forehead as she squeals with delight. “Peter! I know all my colors! I even know beige! Your sweater is green and white. And Miss Wigton played my favorite song. And we were supposed to make animals with beads, but I made a drawing instead. I made a cat-unicorn that breathes fire.”

“You are a menace,” Peter says.

Morgan talks for the entire drive back home.