Inheritance of ash

Unwanted answers

Peter hesitated half a second too long. "Good! Yeah. Quiet. Nothing big."

She didn't press him—just gave a knowing smirk and started walking beside him toward the kitchen, still smiling, one finger absently curling around his.

Around them, the compound's kitchen and dining space had erupted into its usual end-of-day chaos. The long table was already halfway set, though some plates were stacked sideways thanks to a minor telekinetic accident earlier. Clint was loudly trying to convince Scott that "pizza night" shouldn't require a veggie option, while Bruce tried to remind them both that Wanda was literally in the room and could read minds if provoked.

Wanda, for her part, rolled her eyes and calmly levitated the veggie pizza toward the oven while pretending not to notice Pietro squinting at her like she was hiding a secret.

Tony had been watching Vicky the entire time she walked in, a subtle but constant presence behind the movement of his hands as he pretended to check something on his StarkPad. He wasn't being invasive—just present. Ever since the other night, when Natasha had told him what happened, he'd kept a quiet, close eye on her. She didn't seem to mind. She hadn't told him to stop. But Pepper had noticed, and now she gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow.

"She's okay," Pepper whispered, eyes glinting softly. "She's laughing."

Tony exhaled. "I know. Still..."

"She's not breakable, Tony."

He didn't answer that.

Across the room, Scott leaned against the counter with a fork in his hand and a grin on his face. "Hey, by the way—just so everyone knows—I'll probably head out after dinner."

Peter's head popped up from where he was helping Vicky set plates. "You should stay one more night," he said quickly. Too quickly.

Scott raised a brow. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Peter shrugged, casual as he could manage. "Y'know. For... vibes."

Scott blinked. "Vibes."

"Moral support," Peter amended, voice tight. "Just stay. You like the guest room, right? You're a guest. Live your truth."

Vicky gave him a sideways look, amused and mildly confused. "You okay?"

"Hm? Perfectly okay. Always okay. Totally unrelated to anything."

That didn't help.

Meanwhile, Pietro was still watching his sister. He leaned forward in his seat, eyes narrowed. "Wanda. Why's Spider-Boy acting like a badly-programmed toaster?"

Wanda, without missing a beat, turned away from him. "Huh. Did someone burn the garlic bread?"

"Nice dodge," Pietro muttered, but Kate had already tuned in.

She narrowed her eyes like a sniper taking aim. "Wait... are you all in on something? Bucky. What do you know?"

Bucky was chewing on something—not even pizza, just a carrot from Natasha's plate. He raised his hands. "I know nothing. I'm just here for the food."

"You always say that when you're hiding something," Kate hissed. "Is it about Vicky? Is she getting something? Is someone pregnant again?!"

Bruce choked on his soda.

"Absolutely not," Natasha said, deadpan, without even looking up.

Vicky, meanwhile, blinked, glancing from face to face, then back to Peter—who was doing the worst job in Avengers history of pretending he wasn't sweating. "Okay," she said slowly, "what is happening? Why are you all being so weird?"