For the year in which Peter Parker had been a part of the Avengers- because hewas a member if you asked him- he had not once met the others. Sure, Tony would keep him updated, mostly through Eddy, but he had never officially met the big heroes that were now coincidentally on the run from the government. He dreaded to think of what Aunt May would say, now that he was finally meeting the fugitives- in another foreign country, no less- all thanks to the boy she almost loved as much as he did.
As Eddy teleported them to the meeting spot, landing beneath the shade of an old stone bridge as planned, Peter felt sick. They'd teleported this way often enough, with the younger boy wrapped around his waist, Eddy's hands holding him up by the shoulders, that he knew it was not the transport causing the illness.
Peter was not a stranger to nerves. Before he'd been bitten, the feeling of anxiousness would hit him down daily, but since gaining his powers, the confidence had seemed to dull the nervousness too. But standing there, elbows leaning against the bricks, the rough feeling against his masked skin grounding his thoughts, Peter could feel the panic settling in.
It was a sort of skewed version of the family meetings Aunt May had always talked about: those first awkward moments with a partner's family, pleading to the universe that they would not find every opportunity to be difficult. It only made him feel worse to remember that it was that fight in Germany that'd sent Eddy's makeshift family on the run, and that fight in which he had joined the opposite side.
Eddy had assured him too many times that they would love him and hold no grudges. That didn't stop the boy from flushing in a mad heat at the thought of Wanda Maximoff landing in front of them, surrounded in her crimson power and striding toward them with the only menacing look he could remember of the woman.
The anxiousness must have been apparent. Of course it was, with the sweat lining his brow and the jittery tapping of his foot. But even if he had made it obvious, Peter was thankful for the fact that Eddy took notice and responded with a hand against his arm, forcing him to look in his direction. That would always calm him: letting his eyes take note of every freckle that painted the other boy's nose. Eddy had figured that out quick enough.
"Why are you so worried?" Eddy asked, his voice a sweet and welcome hum to Peter's ears. "You know they already love you. I've made it so they have no other choice. There isn't a single thing about you she could dislike."
Peter let out a huff. He hated to admit the fact that such words of flattery truly did make him feel better. Even through the adoring compliment, Peter had heard the subtle switch to she and understood why, even if it had not been intentional. It was Wanda Maximoff, who he had to impress.
