I see your Peter is being a little shit and I raise you to Vision is being a little shit
“I’m ready!” Peter says energetically, trailing after Tony out of the gym into the living room area. He’s still in his training clothes, simple gym shorts and an old tee, the slap-on web shooters around his wrists.
Tony shakes his head. “Just like the last fifteen times you asked: No.” Even though Tony did nothing but control the drones for Peter’s training (because Tony is absolutely no match for Peter’s abilities – at least without his suit and he doesn’t really want to go against him in his suit – and training is supposed to make you better, so they had to come up with a different plan), he feels exhausted.
“Because you’re not ready yet.”
Peter groans in a way only a teenager can, absolutely overly dramatic and as if his life is ending. Tony simply grabs a glass from the kitchen and fills it with water. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Vision sitting on the couch, watching the news, but muting the TV as soon as they walked through the door.
“I thought the entire point of me training is so that I’ll get ready for bigger missions,” Peter pouts, not letting the topic of the I’m-ready-to-play-with-the-big-guys-Mr.-Stark conversation go just yet.
“It is. But you’re still not ready for the big league.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Uh, hello? I’m basically the first superhero. I know it.”
Peter crosses his arms, pushing his chin forward. “I’m pretty sure Steve Rogers was the first superhero. Or Thor.”
“Well, neither of them is here or your mentor, so as the resident oldest superhero, you have to listen to me. Respect your elders and all that.” Tony takes a sip from his water while Peter is still pouting. “Besides, what happened to the Peter who rejected my offer to be an Avenger? I liked that guy. He should come back.”
“That was, like, a year ago. And I trained so much. I’m ready for more.”
“You have to learn to crawl before you can walk or even run. Okay?”
Tony fully expects Peter to argue again, but to everyone’s surprise, it’s not Peter who speaks up, but Vision, still sitting on the couch a couple of feet away. “JARVIS, sometimes you have to run before you can walk.”
Both geniuses turn around to look at him. “What?”
“It is what Mr. Stark said to his AI JARVIS when he took his suit for the first flight test. JARVIS tried to convince him to train his flying abilities more, but Mr. Stark did not listen.”
“How do you know that?” Tony asks, the memory suddenly popping up in his own mind. That first flight has been absolutely astonishing and breathtaking – even though it almost ended with him turning into a popsicle and crashing down onto the ground.
Vision waves to the general direction of his head where the bright stone is embedded in. “I do have access to some of JARVIS’ data, or memories. This is one of them.”
Before Tony can even start to grimace, Peter turns back to him, crossing his arms and raising his brows. “Oh, so you skipped out on training to do dangerous stuff, but even though I trained for a year and made so much progress, you’re not allowing me to do more?”
What did Tony ever do to deserve a stubborn teenager and an android who has access to all those embarrassing videos he did during his very early days as Iron Man?
“You should be grateful that you have a superhero mentor,” Tony says, pointing a finger at him. “I didn’t have one. I had to figure stuff out on my own. I wish I would have had someone who told me to train more.”
“JARVIS did tell you to train more, Sir,” Vision throws in once more. “You ignored him. And considering how much training Mr. Parker had, and how much you trained before you went onto your first mission, Mr. Parker is already way past the walking or even running stage. In fact, he is flying. Metaphorical speaking, of course.”
“You’re not helping, Vis.”
“No, you are helping, Mr. Vision! Tell me more about all the reckless stuff Mr. Stark did!”