Kevin opened his eyes to a high ceiling. Not the bank. Not the street. A room. Clean. Quiet. The sheets under his fingers were soft. Real cotton. His hand was free. No restraints.
He sat up too fast. His head spun. He looked at his wrists, his ankles. Nothing. No cuffs. No wires. No cold metal table.
A voice came from above.
"Relax, man. It's just me."
Kevin looked up. A boy his age hung upside down from a thin white line, arms crossed, hair dangling. He was wearing red and blue pajamas with a spider pattern.
Kevin screamed.
Peter dropped, flipped mid-air, landed on his feet. "Whoa, whoa. Not a monster. See? Just a guy. I'm Peter."
Kevin's chest heaved. His hands sparked, electricity crackling across his knuckles. Then the sparks died. He was too tired to fight. Too hungry.
"Any food?" he asked. "I'm very hungry."
Peter grinned.
---
The kitchen table at Wayne Manor was long enough for twenty people. Today it held Bruce, Deadpool, Flint, Peter, and a very nervous Kevin who had just finished his third plate of eggs.
Deadpool watched him eat with genuine admiration. "Kid, you eat like the boss. It's disturbing."
Flint leaned back, arms crossed. "So what's his deal?"
Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Kevin. Matter absorption. Energy drain. Physical transformation. He's been on the streets. Someone was hunting him."
Kevin stopped chewing. Looked down at his plate.
"We can let you go," Bruce said. "Or you can join us. What do you think?"
Kevin stared at him. Then at the others. Peter gave him a small nod. Flint's face was unreadable but not unkind. Deadpool waved with a fork.
"I can just... leave?"
"Yes."
Kevin pushed his chair back. Stood. Walked to the door. The room was quiet. The door opened. Closed.
Peter's shoulders dropped. Deadpool shrugged. "Well. That was sh—"
The door opened again.
Kevin stood there. His face was red.
"I thought about it," he said. "I want to eat good meals. And you guys have powers. And you don't seem like bad guys."
Deadpool stood up. Walked over. Put a hand on Kevin's shoulder.
"Good lad. Welcome to the team. I am your senior. You can call me Deadpool-senpai."
Kevin blinked. "What's a senpai?"
Peter covered his face with both hands. Flint snorted. Deadpool looked deeply hurt.
Bruce stood. "Welcome to the team, Kevin."
---
The phone rang late that night.
Tony Stark's voice was tired but sharp. "Wayne. We need to talk."
Bruce sat in the study. The fireplace was cold. "Go ahead."
"Got a call from SHIELD today. They knew about the poisoning. Knew it was fixed. Knew before my own doctor. Someone's been watching me."
"They've been watching you for a long time."
"See, that's what I don't get." Tony's tone shifted. Sharper. "You know about the poisoning. You know about SHIELD. You knew about my father's hidden element. So I'm asking you straight, Wayne. What do you really want?"
Bruce was quiet for a moment. Then: "I need your brain. I'm working on a project. It needs leadership from you. You're one of the most brilliant minds on Earth."
"Flattery. Keep going."
"There are threats coming. Things SHIELD doesn't understand. Things the government can't stop. I'm building a team. A real one. And I want you on it."
Tony didn't answer right away. "What kind of threats?"
"Demons."
"I'm sorry. Did you say—"
"Yes."
The line crackled with silence.
Bruce pressed forward. "Before you decide, you need to know something. SHIELD may be tapping your phone. Or they may have someone in your systems. Jarvis is good, but he's not untouchable."
"How do you know about Jarvis?"
"That doesn't matter right now. Do you agree or not?"
Another pause. Then Tony let out a breath. "You helped me. I owe you. I'll join your project. Tell me what it is."
"We'll talk in person. An official meeting. Nothing suspicious. SHIELD already has eyes on you. Don't give them more."
"Fine. But I have one more question." Tony's voice dropped. "How do you know about my uncle? Obadiah."
"He was the one who sold you out. Leaked your convoy route. Had you kidnapped. Almost got you killed. And right now he's building his own version of your armor. An iron suit. A bigger one."
The silence was longer this time.
"Iron Man," Tony said quietly. "You mean my machine. Ironman . It's good name .He's making a copy of my machine"
"Yes."
"Wayne. You really have a spy on me, don't you?"
Bruce almost smiled. "Good night, Tony."
He hung up.