Here We Go

12: Three Years Later

Peter stared at the building, nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. The brick building seemed to loom over him intimidatingly and he tugged on the end of his shirt, opting to stare at the ground instead. Steve put a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at his son.

"You ready kiddo?" Peter shook his head no.

"Papa, do I have to?" he said for the twentieth time that day.

"Yes you do, kid," Tony told him. "Trust me, you won't hate it that much. And since you've got the smarts off your old man," Tony tapped Peter's head, "you'll do great in school."

"It's only preschool, Peter. You won't have to do anything that hard, alright?" Peter scrunched up his nose but nodded at his dads.

"Can't you stay?"

"We have to go to work, buddy." Tony straightened his tie.

"Okay. Can I tell you a secret dad?" Tony nodded and bent down, chuckling at the request Peter made.

"Sorry Pete, no can do." Tony ruffled Peter's hair, which Steve fixed, and they both waved him off. Peter stopped halfway toward the building to look back and smile nervously before entering his first day of preschool.

Peter found the cafeteria first, and in there, he found his class. His teacher, Miss Kate, had told Peter that every morning, the preschool classes lined up in the cafeteria when he had gone to the school with his parents to enroll. Peter had no trouble finding Miss Kate and giving her ahigh-five before joining his class in line. Someone tapped on his shoulder and Peter spun around to see a boy.

"Hi!" the boy greeted, sticking out his hand. "My name's Harry. I was at preschool last year, but they're making me do it again. I'm five. Who are you?" Harry was loud but he seemed very nice so Peter shook his hand.

"I'm Peter. It's nice to meet you. I'm four. This is my first year." Harry grinned and swung an arm around Peter's shoulders, ruffling his hair.

"Then stick with me, because I know everything about this place." Harry was very confident, even at such a young age, and Peter decided he liked him.

"Okay." Harry's grin grew even wider and Peter found himself grinning in return. Harry had dark brown hair that was brushed neatly to one side. Harry also had on a navy blue cardigan over a cream-colored dress shirt and black slacks that nearly brushed he ground, but were stopped by his fancy brown shoes. He had a pale white scar on his left cheekbone and a band-aid across his nose and Peter was instantly confused.

"What happened to your face?" Peter asked, pointing to the band-aid and the scar.

"I was playing with my dad's darts and cut my face last year. I'm all good now though," Harry assured him, explaining the scar. He gestured to the band-aid and continued, "I hit myself in the face with a baseball yesterday."

"I bet it looks fine," Peter insisted. "Can I see it?" Growing up in a house full of superheroes who constantly got hurt had gotten Peter used to seeing injuries, even though they tried to hide them from him.

"Okay, fine. But don't blame me if you think it's gross," Harry mumbled, reaching up and carefully pulling the band-aid off. Peter stared at the bruise - Harry was right, it was an ugly purple, but it was nothing compared to the bruises he had been at home.

"It doesn't even look that bad!" Peter exclaimed, laughing a little. Harry smiled.

"Really? I thought it looked gross."

"No, it makes you look tough. Like you get in fights and stuff, but it makes you look like you win."

"Really?" Harry sounded genuinely happy now.