Superfamily One Shots

Volunteer Services

**Inspired by a program that my hometown has for injured wildlife, it's so cute and I want to do this when I'm older. Fluffy Peter and super panicked Tony. Anyways, enjoy!!**

"Peter," Tony said, pointing at the boy's bed. "What is that?"

The teen looked up from his book, squinting as bright sunlight streamed through the curtains. It was a sunny afternoon, the first one of the season, and Peter was basking in the heat. "That's my bed."

Tony huffed. "I know that, I mean that! What is that?"

Tony pointed again, more aggressively, at a shoe box on the boy's bed. It was packed with the corner of a soft blanket, and a towel and a little stuffed animal bear that Peter had from when he was much younger.

"A shoe box."

"What is in the shoe box, Peter, Goddamn it!"

Peter swiveled around and got up out of his desk chair, putting his book down on his desk. "Oh, that's Harold. The baby raccoon."

Tony stared at the teen with wide, confused eyes. "Harold?"

"Yeah," Peter shrugged, picking up the little teddy bear and the raccoon, cradling him close. The poor thing was barely the size of Peter's palm, and as soon as he felt the physical warmth of a person, the little animal wrapped tiny paws around Peter's fingers.

"Why do you have a raccoon in your room, young man?"

"I signed up to be a volunteer. There's this program, you have to do some online training and stuff, and go to the wildlife place to do paperwork, but then I can be a foster parent for injured or abandoned wildlife here in New York. I heard this one family out in Ithaca got a baby bear who's mom got killed! But I told them I could only take in the little ones, like the squirrels and whatever else. This little guy came in last night! So they called me, which is like, wow, 'cause I'm new on the list, so I came down and picked him up and I got to name him!"

Tony was nodding along, his brain wheeling from the new knowledge that his son was going to be... fostering wildlife? The whole thing was so confusing. When had this happened? When was Peter going to tell him? When would that thing be out of the Tower?

"Peter, why would... why would you agree to take in a wild animal?"

Peter furrowed his brow. "He's not dangerous, Dad, they gave him all of his shots and stuff. And when they're raised like this, by hand, at home, they are kinda like cats!"

The teen put a finger to the baby's head, rubbing softly. "I think he's hungry."

"Peter, I did not say you could have wild animals in this house."

"I know," Peter said, deflating slightly. "I know, Dad, I should have checked with you first, but... I reallyw anted to do this and I thought I would have more time to tell you but they called me like 3 days after my application and stuff went through so it was very sudden. Please, please don't make me give him up. He needs me. He needs someone to love him."

Tony watched for a second as Peter dropped his head back to the baby raccoon and began running a fingertip down the baby's fat, little tummy. "Please."

With a sigh louder than any admonishment, Tony nodded. "Okay. Harold can stay. But he's your responsibility, from the food to the caring for to the picking up after."

Peter's face lit up, splitting into a grim. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

The teen gave his father a gentle hug to one side, careful not to squish the raccoon.

"Now what does Harold eat?" Tony asked, petting the little thing in his son's arms gently.

"He's too little to have solids, so we're still on formula."

Tony chuckled to himself as Peter walked carefully out to the hall and into the kitchen. It was like watching a new parent, almost. Sort of. The teen was careful with every move, like he was worried that at any moment the raccoon would wake up and either claw him to death or cry.

The boy got out some milk from the fridge, poured some into a cup, and mixed in a bit of the formula powdered he'd gotten from the rescue place. He mixed it with one hand, then put it in a little bottle, barely the size of the teen's pinkie, and put in the microwave for 30 seconds.

Peter leaned against the counter, playing with Harold while Tony went into the living room to watch the news with the rest of the team.

The microwave beeped, and Peter checked that the milk wasn't too warm, then started to feed Harold, who eagerly grabbed for the bottle and pulled it closer. The teen wandered into the living room, watching the weather report.

"What's the low this week?"

Tony looked up. "Oh, it's saying highs in the 60's, lows in the 30's. You might want to get more blankets for Harold at night."

Peter nodded, readjusting his hand.

"Who's Harold?" Steve asked, looking over at the teen.

"This is Harold!" The boy lifted his elbow, tilting the baby so the room could see.

"Peter," Bucky started. "That is a wild animal."

Steve smacked his friend. "Oh, hush, its not like we didn't share army rations with little birds or whatever we found while camping out in the barracks."

Bucky blushed a little. "Little different here, Stevie, the thing is inside!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "I signed up to foster the animals who get hurt or abandoned or whatever."

Clint smiled. "That's super cool, Pete."

Natasha patted the space on the love seat next to her. "Bring him over. I want to feed him."

Peter let her feed the little guy until he was all full and pushed the bottle away and snuggled closer to Peter's chest and the teddy bear, and fell asleep. Tony couldn't help but pull out his phone and take a sly photo, Peter's eyes lidded with sleep and hand draped gently over Harold.