C170 Merchant of Death

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Hours after their conversation with Optimus Prime, Peter knew that he couldn't keep the impending conflict a secret any longer. The stakes were too high, and everyone needed to be prepared for what was coming.

So, he sent out an urgent call for an emergency meeting, gathering everyone at the Red Room's hangar, as Bee couldn't fit in a normal meeting room.

'I need to talk to Rocket about expanding the Red Room for Bee and the others…' Peter thought to himself.

As the hangar doors slid open, the crowd began to pour in. Peter stood near the front, his expression calm, his posture relaxed despite the gravity of the situation. Behind him, his crew stood beside a sleek yellow Camaro, which had attracted more than a few curious glances as it sat quietly.

"…" Only Rocket knew what the car truly was.

The murmur of voices filled the space as more and more people arrived, each wondering what was so urgent that Peter had called them all together. Peter remained silent, waiting patiently for everyone to gather before he explained everything, not wanting to repeat himself.

Soon enough, everyone arrived…

Magneto, with his imposing presence and air of authority; Xavier, calm and composed as always, his gaze thoughtful; and Logan, who leaned casually against a wall, his sharp eyes taking in the scene.

Peggy Carter was among the first to arrive, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern, while beside her, Steve Rogers—Captain America himself—drew more than a few lingering looks, especially from the older crowd.

The knowledge of Steve's survival had been kept under wraps, so for many, this was a shock, to say the least.

Not far from Steve, several Jedi stood waiting patiently. Leading them was Mace Windu, his stern gaze scanning the room.

The Maximoff twins, Wanda and Pietro, stood together off to the side, their expressions unreadable as they observed the gathering. They had been staying at the Red Room since Peter had saved them, preferring the neutrality of this place over the divided allegiances of Xavier and Magneto.

Finally, the very last person to arrive was Tony Stark, fashionably late as per usual. But, the moment he stepped into the hangar, tension filled the air. All eyes turned to him, but none were more intense than those of the Maximoff twins.

They fell silent, their gazes hardening into glares that could cut through steel. This wasn't the first time they had encountered Tony at the base, and their initial reaction had been rather violent. It was only Peter's intervention that had stopped them from tearing into him. Now, though they remained restrained, the animosity was palpable.

[Flashback to the Day After Peter Saved the Twins]

The sterile halls of the Red Room felt almost too clean, too quiet, as Peter led the Maximoff twins through them. The stark contrast to the hell they had just escaped was jarring.

Their bodies, still weak from the malnutrition and the horrific experiments Hydra had subjected them to, moved slowly, each step a reminder of their fragile state.

Peter walked a few paces ahead, his stride confident and sure, a beacon of safety in their uncertain world. The twins, Wanda and Pietro, followed closely behind, their expressions still guarded, their trust in Peter growing but far from solidified.

Peter had promised them sanctuary—a place where they could recover, heal, and figure out their next steps. The Red Room, for all its history, was now a safe haven, a place where they could rest and rebuild their strength without fear of being hunted.

As they made their way through the corridors, Peter explained where they would be staying. "The rooms are just up ahead," he said, glancing back to make sure they were still with him. "You'll have everything you need—food, clothes, medical care. Just take it easy, alright? Listen to the doctors and you'll be back to normal in no time."

Wanda and Pietro exchanged a glance, the wariness still evident in their eyes, but they nodded in agreement. They didn't have much choice, and Peter had shown them nothing but kindness so far.

As they approached one of the hangars, a loud whirring sound caught their attention, followed by the distinct clanking of metal against metal. Peter paused, his senses heightened, immediately recognizing the source of the noise.

"Don't worry about that," he said, waving it off casually. "It's just Tony Stark testing out his latest—" Peter paused, realizing his mistake. 'Oh, sh*t…'

The name might have meant nothing to most people, but to Wanda and Pietro, it was like a detonator being triggered. Their bodies tensed, their eyes widening as the name sank in.

"Stark…" Pietro muttered under his breath, his voice laced with venom.

Wanda's eyes narrowed, her hands instinctively clenching into fists. Her body trembled with the sudden surge of emotions—anger, hatred, grief. The memories of their mother's death, the devastation wrought by the bombs bearing Stark's name, flooded her mind.

Before Peter could say anything else, they had reached the open hangar doors. "!"

Inside, Tony Stark, dressed in his fully crafted Iron Man suit, was making adjustments. The suit hummed with power as Tony tested its systems. His helmet was open, leaving his face fully visible, his brow furrowed in concentration as he ran all sorts of tests.

The moment Wanda and Pietro saw him, they froze, their bodies taut with tension. The world seemed to narrow to just the three of them—Tony Stark, the man they had long blamed for their suffering, stood unaware of the storm about to break.

"Wait—" Peter called out, rushing after them.

Pietro moved in a blur, his super speed propelling him forward with deadly intent. But he was still weakened from his injuries, his body not yet fully recovered.

Peter's reflexes, honed by years of Jedi and Sith training, kicked in. With a quick flick of his wrist and a subtle push of the Force, he sent Pietro's feet out from under him. The speedster tumbled across the hangar floor, his momentum sending him crashing into a stack of metal crates with a loud *clang*.

"Pietro!" Wanda screamed, her voice thick with fury. The red energy that was her signature power flared around her hands as she prepared to unleash her wrath on Tony, who had only just begun to realize something was happening.

But Peter was faster. Before Wanda could hurl her chaotic magic, he raised his hand, sending a wave of the Force toward her. The invisible energy struck Wanda like a physical blow, knocking her off her feet and sending her sprawling to the ground, her powers dissipating as her concentration was shattered.

"Jarvis, initiate defense mode." Fully aware that something was amiss, Tony swiftly engaged the suit's defensive systems, the hum of its weaponry coming to life.

But the threat had already been neutralized. Pietro groaned as he pushed himself up from the ground, his vision spinning from the force of the fall. Wanda, still lying on the cold hangar floor, struggled to regain her bearings, her chest heaving with anger and frustration.

Before they could regain their footing, Peter quickly stepped between them and Tony, holding out his hands to keep everyone in place. "Everybody, just calm down!" he commanded, his voice carrying an authority that cut through the tension in the room. "No one is fighting anyone, alright? Let's all just take a breath and calm down."

Pietro, despite his dazed state, managed to get to his feet, his eyes blazing with anger as he glared at Peter. "Why should we listen to you?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "He's the reason our mother is dead!"

Wanda, picking herself up off the ground, echoed her brother's sentiment, her voice trembling with rage. "We watched her die, and it was your bombs that killed her! Your name was on the shell that destroyed our home!"

Tony, still in his suit, stood frozen, processing their words. He had never seen these two before in his life, but the raw hatred in their voices was unmistakable.

"I... I," Tony stammered, lost for words, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He had heard of civilian casualties in war, though never once did he consider it his responsibility or fault. But hearing it now, from the mouths of two survivors—two children who had lost everything—struck him like a freight train.

Peter glanced back at Tony, reading the guilt and regret etched across his face. This wasn't the moment for a deep confrontation, not with Wanda and Pietro in such a volatile state.

"Look," Peter began, addressing the twins with as much calm as he could muster. "I know you're angry—hell, you have every right to be. But this isn't the way. Killing him won't bring your mother back."

Although Peter was all for vengeance and killing your enemies, especially when it's deserved, he wasn't willing to let Iron Man die. Not again! Tony Stark would live a long life in this universe, he'd make sure of it.

Pietro clenched his fists, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. "And what do you suggest we do? Just forget? Forgive?" He spat the words as if they were poison.

"No," Peter said firmly. "But you need to think this through. Killing Tony won't solve anything—it'll only make things worse for you. What happens after he's dead? I'll tell you. You two become wanted murderers, forced to live the rest of your lives on the run, never knowing peace or a safe place to call home." He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, "Is that what your mother would have wanted for you?"

Wanda, her anger slowly ebbing as the adrenaline faded. Her gaze locked onto Tony, her eyes filled with a deep, unyielding sorrow. "You destroyed our lives," she whispered, her voice breaking. "We were happy in Sokovia before you came along and ruined our country with war…"

Tony took a deep breath, the weight of their words settling heavily on his shoulders. "I'm… I'm sorry," he said, and though the words were simple, they carried the full weight of his remorse. "I didn't know..."

There was a long silence as the three of them stood there, the air thick with unresolved tension. But Peter could see the slight shift in the twins—still angry, still hurt, but perhaps beginning to see that Tony wasn't worth ruining their lives. 'Either that or they're waiting for the right moment to strike…'

Peter finally broke the silence, his voice gentle but firm. "Let's go. You two need to rest. We can figure this out later..."

Reluctantly, Pietro and Wanda backed down, the fire in their eyes dimming as they followed Peter out of the hangar. But even as they left, Peter could feel the weight of their unresolved grief and anger, a heavy burden that wouldn't be easily lifted.

Tony watched them leave, his mind racing from the encounter. He stayed in the hangar long after they were gone, the twins' words echoing in his head. "Wait... Sokovia?" he muttered, before asking, "Jarvis, has the United States military used any Stark weaponry in Sokovia?"

"No, sir," Jarvis responded promptly. "The United States has never been at war with Sokovia…"

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "Then who is? And how the hell did they get their hands on my company's weapons?"

[End flashback]

Back in the present, Tony stood off to the side, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a somber expression. He could feel the weight of the twins' glares, their anger and pain still as raw as it had been the day they met. He frowned, guilt gnawing at him as he glanced over at Wanda and Pietro, both of whom were doing their best to avoid his gaze.

The rest of the assembled group seemed to sense the tension, the undercurrent of hostility that simmered just below the surface. They didn't know the full story, but they could feel that something unresolved was hanging in the air.

Peter, standing at the front of the gathered crowd, took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of the moment. He knew this was going to be a difficult meeting, but it was necessary. There was too much at stake to let personal grievances get in the way. It was time to focus on the bigger picture.

"Alright, everyone," Peter began, his voice cutting through the quiet murmurings that had started to rise among the group. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I know all of you are probably wondering why I called this meeting, but trust me, it's important."

He surveyed the room, noting the diverse group that had gathered: Magneto, Xavier, Logan, Peggy, Captain America, Windu and the Jedi Masters, the Maximoff twins, Tony, and Peter's crew—minus Revan, who had to stay hidden due to the presence of the Jedi.

Peter could feel the eyes of everyone on him, waiting for him to continue. He took another deep breath, then turned slightly to gesture toward the yellow Camaro parked behind him.

"I called this meeting because we've got a situation on our hands—a big one," Peter continued, his tone serious. "Bee, whenever you're ready..."

There was a ripple of curiosity and confusion among the crowd, more than a few people exchanging glances. The Camaro, which had seemed like nothing more than a simple vehicle, was now the focus of everyone's attention.

Suddenly, the room filled with the sound of shifting metal, a symphony of mechanical clicks and whirs as the Camaro began to transform. The onlookers watched in stunned silence as the car's frame expanded and reconfigured itself, the familiar shape of the vehicle giving way to something much larger, much more impressive.

Within moments, Bee stood tall in his full Cybertronian form, his yellow-and-black armor gleaming under the hangar lights. His optics glowed a soft blue as he looked around at the gathered assembly, the room's atmosphere thick with shock and disbelief.

The silence was palpable as everyone took in the sight of the towering robot before them. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, their minds struggling to process what they were seeing.

Finally, it was Logan who broke the silence, his voice gruff and filled with awe. "What the f*ck…"

Bumblebee, still adjusting to the presence of so many new faces, offered a hesitant wave, his movements careful and almost shy. "Hello…" Despite his imposing size, there was something endearing about the way he carried himself, like a giant unsure of how to interact with those around him.

Peter stepped forward again, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "This is Bee," he said, his voice carrying a note of pride. "He's a Cybertronian, a member of a race of sentient robots from a planet called Cybertron. And luckily, he's from the more friendly half of their race, called Autobots…"

The room was silent, every eye on Peter and Bee as they waited for the explanation that would undoubtedly come next.

Peggy raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean there's an unfriendly half?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, and both are headed here as we speak..."

A/N: 2600 words :)

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