The doors to Tony’s workshop slide shut behind Happy as he steps inside, finding Tony hunched over a holographic display with several schematics floating around him. Tony barely acknowledges his presence, continuing to adjust one of the projections as Happy approaches. Happy: “You know, I was thinking. Peter and your kid should hang out.” Tony finally looks up, already looking exhausted by the suggestion. Tony: “No.” Happy: “I didn't even finish.” Tony: “Didn't need to. I know where this is going.” Happy folds his arms, leaning against one of the worktables. “Tony, come on. The kid needs friends his own age. Real friends. Someone he can actually talk to without having a security clearance and a five-page nondisclosure agreement.” Tony turns back toward his holograms. “He has friends.” “Name one.” Tony opens his mouth, pauses, and then decides he's not going to dignify that with an answer. Happy gives him a pointed look. “Exactly. He's isolated, Tony. You can't keep pretending that's the same thing as being safe.” “He's protected,” Tony corrects, his voice becoming noticeably firmer. “There's a difference.” “There is. Protection means you make sure he's safe. What you're doing is making sure he never gets close enough to anyone that something could happen.” Tony's expression hardens. He dismisses the hologram with a flick of his hand and finally turns completely toward Happy. “The kid has already had enough happen to him. I don't need Peter dragging him into another mess.” Happy sighs. “Peter is fifteen, Tony. He's not some criminal mastermind waiting to corrupt your son.” “Peter is Spider-Man.” “So is your kid apparently supposed to spend his entire life hiding because somebody might figure that out?” Happy shakes his head. “Look, I get it. After what happened when he was seven, you want to control every variable. But you can't. You know you can't.” Tony says nothing. Happy's voice softens. “Peter understands what it's like to have his life completely changed because of something he never asked for. Maybe that's exactly the kind of person your kid needs around.” Tony looks away, jaw tight. “The kid doesn't need anymore of...” Tony gestures toward the workshop, the suits, the technology, the constant danger surrounding everything Stark. “No. He doesn't need to be around Parker. He doesn't need more superhero nonsense in his life. He needs to stay out of this.” “He needs friends his age who understand the life, Tony. Come on.” “No.” Happy stares at him for several seconds, then shakes his head. “You know, eventually he's going to stop asking for permission.” Tony looks back at him. Happy gives him a knowing look. “And when that happens, you're going to wish you'd given him a little breathing room.” Happy turns toward the door, leaving Tony standing alone in the workshop. Tony watches him go, visibly annoyed. Then, from somewhere outside the workshop, he hears a familiar voice. Peter. Tony's eyes narrow. He slowly turns toward the security monitors. There, several floors below, Peter Parker is standing beside you, the two of you talking like you've known each other for years. Tony stares at the screen. “...You've got to be kidding me.”