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Big Bro Knows Best

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Dear diary, 

You don't work as good as the stupid psychiatrist implied. Truth be told, you make things worse. 

If not for you, Peter wouldn't have teased me and I had to punch him on the gut which had to be attended to in the ER. Then I had to take anger management therapy.

Apparently, I am in detention, listening to two dorks talk about Dr. Who. I made the fatal mistake of asking who that is. 

Dammit. 

 

"How was detention, kid?" Tony Stark asked as he handed America her own cup of frappé. 

She took it and sat in the passenger side of his expensive car. Her dad's expensive car. 

She huffs, "Like you'd know."

"I was home schooled, that's why I'm asking." He shrugs as he started the engine. 

 

Dear diary,

I am in a mani/pedi salon, with Black Widow. Awesome, right?

 

"You should know this girl who used to run around Avengers Tower. Cute kid." Natasha Romanova says as the nail technician applied scarlet red nail polish so delicately. "Scott Lang's daughter. I think her name's Cassie? Last time I saw Facebook, Scott says Cassie joined a school group 'Young Avengers'. 

 

My nails are Chaos Black. I like it. 

 

Peter Parker knocked on his adoptive sister's half-open door, "How's life? I've read all your Facebook diary posts. You really shouldn't put it in public. Because," he shrugs, "duh, that's why it's called 'diary'?"

America throws him a cardboard star, Peter caught it in reflex. 

She huffs. "As you could have read, I'm not doing so great."

He walks to sit on her bed, "What's up?" 

America sits back on her swivel chair. "I have concluded that I am bored with school."

Peter raised a brow, "You think homeschool's better?"

She shrugs, "If that's how Dad became, then why not?"

Peter stretches an arm to America's door, producing a stream of web, pulling it close. He turns to her, "America, dude, come on. Homeschool's dope, the bad kind of dope."

She gives a contemplative hum, "Why?"

"You're gonna be like 'I'm-holier-than-thou', homo superior."

She scoffs, "Am I not like that per usual?"

Peter cracks a grin. But washes it off with a cough, then tells her, "Why don't I introduce you to some fine people I seem to know?"

 

"Matt Murdock," Peter says, leaning close to his sister for theatrical suspense, "a.k.a. the Daredevil." 

America raises a brow at him, "The one in the red suit? And the whip?" She gestures at the guy who just came in the café with a guiding stick. "That's the Daredevil?" She questions sceptically. 

He shakes a finger at her, "Oh you of little faith. You," he points a finger on her arm, "should never judge a book by its cover. Well, then again, because of people and prejudice, makes it easier for double identity heroes to blend in the crowd."

"Except Dad." America adds. 

"And the Fantastic Four."

"And the Mystery Gang."

"And the Doctor."

America groans at the memory of 'Doctor Who'. She is grateful when Peter didn't ask. 

He resumes, "Because of Mr. Daredevil's disability, he is a great hero."

"Mr. Murdock!" Peter exclaims, "Over here!

--

The both of them are suited up as to meet another of Peter's menu of fine people. 

Peter has his mask on, and he was basically on duty, it's just 'bring-your-kid-to-work day' and he decidedly brought America with him. 

"Who's next on the guest list?" She asks over the hard wind, making her hood fly behind her with an annoying flapflapflap along with her hair. 

"The merc with the mouth." He tells her, sitted indian-squated on the side. 

"What?" She shouts. "The nerd with the mouth?"

"The merc with the--" The wind picks up around them. "The mercenary with the mouth!" 

"But everybody has a mouth!" She argues frustratedly. 

"It's a euphemism!"

"Why?" She calls.

"Because I'm a great kisser!" Exclaims a voice beside America. 

The wind stops blowing so pell mell, Peter gestures for America to the newcomer in red spandex to her right. "Deadpool."

Deadpool, even though he wears a mask as Peter does, seem to grin at her. "Hello, little girl. Why does Spidey want me to show myself to you?"

"So I can beat you in a pulp."

"America!" Peter retorts. "That is rude! You don't say that to people! Didn't your teacher teach you better?" He reprimands. 

She dumps her hands in her jacket pockets, shrugging her shoulders, "Homeschool's better, Pete."

"Ah," Deadpool says in understanding, "the form of education you'd like to get." He turns to Peter. "I'm just a boy, standing in front another boy, astonished to end why I was called to meet a Captain America fangirl."

America taps his arm with the back of her hand, "My name's America."

Deadpool nods, "Whose parents are maj Captain America fans. I'm just an assassin, Spidey, not a teacher. Teach her to talk back to you, maybe. But to impart knowledge," he clicks his tongue. "Better go to that bald wheelchair guy." He turns to America. "Getting bullied, little girl? I can kill them for you, for a good price." He offers. 

"Nononono, no! No one's killing no one!" Peter interjects in posthaste. "I refuse for her to revert into solving her problem in a violent way!"

Deadpool seem to roll his eyes when he replied with momentary silence, "Just scream my name in a dark alley and I'll kill them for you." He mutters to her. 

"Get outta here!" Peter says, chasing Deadpool away from America's side. 

"Geronimo!" He shouts as he jumped off to disappear. 

America turns to Peter, folding her arms across her chest. "I question your preferences of friends." 

Peter stares at her in deadpan, "I question your lack of friends."

America's eyes went dangerously narrow. 

 

Steve Rogers gives an expectant look at the girl as she exitted the toilet in the private room of Peter's hospital room. 

"What have you got to say for yourself, young lady?"

America blinks, astonishly surprise. She glances over to Peter, then back to their Pops. "Uhm..."

The main door bursts open and Tony charged in, first seeing America and embraces her, "Oh, my beautiful baby!" He cooes. "What have they done to you?"

Peter clears his throat to get Dad's attention, "Uh... I'm the one injured." He says, raising his hand. 

Tony turns to Peter, then to America caressing America's arms. "You mean, you're not in a death threat--" then he runs to Peter. "My baby!"

Steve eyes Tony, "What death threat?"

Tony ruffles Peter's hair, "Deadpool tagged me in his tweet." He pulls out his phone and shows it to Steve. "See?"

Steve took his husband's phone, reads the post, "'America is in trouble, do your best to give her the rest.'"

Peter huffs, muttering "Great double rhyme."

"It may just be America as the country in general." Steve suggests. 

Tony gives him an incredulous look. "Then why the hell would I be under a hashtag sign?"

Peter looks at America, a pointed look on his face. 

America raises her brows in question. 

He nods, then nods to their parents. 

America unconsciously dug her hands inside her jacket pocket. "Uhm... Dad? And-and other Dad?"

It was the tone of uncertainty and the stammer that caused Captain America and Ironman to stop bickering and turn to their daughter. 

"I want to change schools."

And then Captain America fainted. 

 

Dinner in the Stark-Rogers house was awfully quiet for such a diverse family. 

Peter only had tofu on his plate that he sculpted to look like a cat face. It was hard to digest any food, his intestines doesn't work as well as before America kicked his guts. Dad Steve excused him from eating. 

America was peacefully eating her tofu since she felt relatively tasteless at the moment. Nothing feels real. As if America's heart fell down with Dad Steve when he fainted on to the floor. 

Dad Tony is reading e-mails in his tablet, Dad Steve had told him not to do it, but it fell in deaf ears. He multitasked, eating with a fork and signing documents with a magnetic pen of some sorts. 

America wished Aunt Pep was here to back her up with mentions of femininity and puberty; it's the only reasonable explanation, for Dad Steve; it's the only biological explanation, for Dad Tony with his sciency things he prattles about with Uncle Bruce.     
 
"So you don't want to go to school?" Tony questions when he had kept his tablet and pen. 

"That's not what I said, dad." She mutters. 

"Then what are you saying?" 

She winces when his tone became hard and authoritive. 

"I want... To be homeschooled?"

Tony turns his stare to Peter who was making tofu people. "Have your sister been talking to you about this?"

Peter looks up, "Uhm, yes. But I tried changing her mind."

Steve finally speaks, "How?"

In any normal circumstances, America would have been laughing at her brother. But now, she feels scared for him. 

It would have been good if Peter stopped with Daredevil. But he also made her meet Deadpool, who is an absolute dickhead for doing such a dick move of tweeting and tagging Dad Tony. Now here both of them stand, relactant to walk the plank.

"Peter made me meet Mr. Murdock." America tells them, saving Peter from any wrong stringing of words. One false move and he gets no lab time for a month.

Steve raises her brows, "You want to be a lawyer?"

America turns to her brother, both sharing a look of (disdain). Should they run along this story? Is America willing to go to boring ole law school? 

"No--" She should shut up. Like right now. "I want to be a police officer."

America is absolutely refusing to take any blame for making Captain America faint twice in a single day. 

 

"You sure are a bag of surprises, little girl." Deadpool says. 

America shrugs, ripping open a pack of Cheetos. "I try to be original."

He chuckles, "So you up for being a commedienne?"

She doesn't answer. 

He shots a glance to her then slouches his shoulders. Then fully faces the girl, "Can you do me a favour?"

"I want something in return." She replies cooly, as if she had been expecting him to say that. Then looks up to him, "What."

"Help me date your brother."

"Sure."

Deadpool faces America. "You seriously are a bag full of surprises."

She keeps the rest of the Cheetos bag in her jacket pocket. "Any opportunity to torture my brother, I grab it."

Deadpool wants to take back the compliment he gave her. Doesn't matter that this little girl is Peter Parker's little sister, she's an out right diva. He pities whoever has to put up with her in 10 years or so. But she'll do it, so yeah. 

"Awesome."

 

Dear diary,

I have to set up my brother with a man. Don't even know if he's bent.  

 

"WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK, AMERICA?!" Peter shouted three minutes after America pressed 'post'. 

She throws him the very same cardboard star as he comes in her room. But it shots him on the eye. 

"Shi--" He screams as his hand flies up to his eye. 

"What's happening in here?!" Tony questions as he approached Peter from the stairs. 

Peter, looking like Nick Fury by covering his eye with a hand and a furious look on his face, turns to their dad. "America called me 'gay'!"

Tony went agape, "Oh no, why did they?"

"No!" He cries. "America," he points at the girl, "called me 'gay' in a Facebook post!"

Tony turns to his daughter, "Is this true?"

America raises her phone to show it to him, "I did no such thing."

Tony walks over to her and reads her post. "Well, yes. But that's really rude, America. Delete this post now." He hands it back to her. 

America looks at it in sudden regret. Then stops her thumb over 'Delete post'. It's got a thousand likes... Too bad. Delete. 

Then to her brother, "I'm sorry, Peter."

Tony leaves the two. 

Peter enters the room, closing the door behind him. "I'm bisexual."

"I'm menstrual."

Peter stares at her. 

America raises a hand, "I swear, cross my dark, pitless heart."

Peter chuckles, sitting on her bed, "It's not as pitless as you say it is."

"No?"

"No. I know it."

 

-end-