Summary: Peter came back home after being away with Pepper and Nat to find the Avengers fighting.
Warnings: scary Peter.
The elevator door opened and Peter Potts-Romanoff and his mums walked into the living room.
The living room was trashed. There were cushions everywhere, the coffee table was broken, there was a hole in the TV and in the middle of it all were the Avengers.
They had stopped fighting when they had the elevator opened.
This sort of thing happened all the time. Peter usually laughed at their behaviour.
But not this time.
They could have destroyed the kitchen and he would have been fine.
They could have destroyed his lab and he would have been fine.
It was just the living room. The room he had helped his father design before he died.
His father was an interior designer and a good friend of Tony Stark.
He wasn't sad nor mad. He was pissed.
He clenched his fists, anger boiling inside of him.
"What is the meaning of this!?" He demanded.
"Well, um...Steve and Tony couldn't decide on a movie and, um... We chose sides. And we got a little... Um, sidetracked," Clint replied rubbing the back of his neck nervously, refusing to meet the boys gaze.
"You guys couldn't make a simple choice so you decided to take away the last thing I ever created with my father."
Everyone flinched at that.
"You guys are the world's greatest hero's and yet you act like children. You will have to clean this mess up. Tony, no lab access for a week."
"But-" Tony began to protest but was cut off.
"Two weeks. Wanna make it three?"
He kept quiet.
"Thought so. Steve. You're backup for the next two missions."
Steve didn't say anything and kept his gaze on the ground.
"Think about what you've done."
With that he left the room. The rest stood in silence for a while until Sam broke it.
"He's scarier than you two combined," he said, directing his statement to his mums.
He shut up after receiving a glare from the duo.
351: words.