I here the familiar clicking of heels getting closer. I roll my eyes and continue eating my pancakes. This causes Peter to burst out laughing. I love his laugh. Full of innocence and joy.

I wish he wasn't starting his senior year of highschool. I wish he was still that small 8 year old boy we adopted all those year ago. The boy who never left our side, the boy who wanted to be just like us.

Now Peter is distant. I guess this is just how teenagers are. It certainly was how I was like at his age. Oh god! He's turning into me!

"Want anything Natasha?" I say to the smirking red-head. She shakes her head and proceeds to flick on the TV.

'The amazing Spider-Man does it again! Last night he prevented what could have been a devistating tragedy. Here with more information is reporter...'

"Hey Peter is on the news again!" Peter looks at his lap, face growing red. I really admired him when he told us who he was two years ago. But I wish he told us when he was going out on patrol. Instead of sneaking out.

I could tell Tony was mad. His stare could cut vibranium. "When were you planning on telling us? What if you got hurt? What if we couldn't find you?"

"Dad..."

I give my husband a warning stare. He ignores it. Like usual.

"I don't have a problem with you doing this, Peter. But I worry. You know I worry." Peter gets up and tries to leave, clearly uncomfortable. He mumbled something about school and runs to the elevator picking up his bag as he went. Tony gets up to follow but I stop him.

"Give him some space, Tony." I whisper. We watch as the elevator doors open and Peter gets in. Tony shoots me a look as if to say 'why would you let him leave'. I just shake my head and begin to clear up the mess of breakfast.

"If you don't talk to him I will," Tony snaps and storms out of the room.

Natasha snorts and mutters under her breath, "boys!"