Haunted House

What to Expect:
—AU
—SPOOKY (it's not halloween but Idgaf)

— — —

Had anyone else approached this building, they would have bit their lip, slowly backed away, and continued on with their day, entirely ignoring the encounter.

But as Clint stood in front of this house, he knew he couldn't run.

"You sure this is the place?" Stark asked, eyebrow raised.

"Uh, yes."

Clint slowly started walking up the pathway to the front door. Wilting flowers brushed up against his legs, the yard looking like it had never been mowed.

The support beams holding up the porch overhang leaned inward towards the house. The grey wood let out creaking noises as Clint stepped onto the porch.

Stark followed after with a scowl on his face. "This looks like something out of a horror movie. You're absolutely certain this is the right place?"

"Yes!" Clint three his hands in the air. "I followed Bruce here three—three!—days in a row, I'm fairly certain this is where he lives."

Tony looked up at the tall house, his eyes glancing over the spot where the roof caved inwards and up towards the belfry—why does a house need a belfry!?—before making eye contact with Clint.

"Don't ask again," Clint groaned. Turning to the door, he reached towards the lion-headed door knocker. Taking a deep breath, he rapped the knocker against the door one, two, three times.

A series of chimes followed, getting higher until they were ended by the gong-sound of the bell in the belfry. There was a moment of silence before a voice that definitely didn't belong to Bruce called, "Just a second!"

Someone could be heard running around, feet thumping against the floor. Moments later the door was flung open to reveal a kid of maybe Highschool age. "Hi! If you're looking for Bruce he's not home at the moment. He went shop-" the kid's eyes widened, "-ping..."

Silence.

"You're Tony Stark."

Stark grinned. "The one and only!"

"What?" Clint put a hand on his chest, sighing dramatically, "You don't recognize moi?"

"Well, yeah, I know you," the kid said, "You're Hawkeye. BUT HES TONY STARK! The second greatest scientist EVER!"

Tony furrowed his brow. "Second?"

"Sorry," the kid laughed, "but I'm obligated to say my Dad's the best."

"Your Dad?"

"Me." That was Bruce. Clint jolted backwards, turning to see the scientist carrying more grocery bags than seemed feasibly possible.

"Lemme help with that." The kid skidded across the porch and managed to hold about half the bags before bolting back inside. Bruce followed him, gesturing for the other Avengers to follow.

The kid and Bruce set down the bags on the kitchen counter, starting to put stuff away in the cabinets.

"Here, I'll help," Clint said, watching where the two were putting stuff and following suit. Clint almost dropped the soup can he was holding when he heard a crash upstairs.

"WHAT WAS THAT??" he exclaimed, stumbling backwards into the counter.

"Probably just Tako," the kid said, "I'll go deal with it."

As the kid headed upstairs, Clint turned to Bruce, who was continuing to put stuff away as if nothing had happened. "Cat?" he asked.

"Why would you name your cat Taco?" Tony scowled, "Kid probably came up with that name. Who is he anyway?"

Bruce slid a box of cereal into a cabinet before turning to Tony. "My son. His name is Peter."

"I never saw you having kids," Clint said, "Adopted?"

Bruce nodded. "Yeah. His Aunt died a few months ago. Met him—"

"HEY!!! TAKO I SWEAR TO FUDGE IF YOU DON'T GET BACK HERE I'LL BANISH YOU TO THE BASEMENT FOR A WEEK!"

A terrified look crossed Tony's face. "What the fuck."

"That's not a cat, is it?" Clint asked. At Bruce's nod, the color drained from his face. "Then what... What is it?"

There was a shattering noise, followed by the thump of footsteps, followed by satanic chanting.

"WHAT THE FUCK." Clint's eyes shot to Bruce. "WHAT THE FUCK???"

"Tako—" Bruce flinched at the sound of something shattering, "—is a ghost thAT IS GOING TO BE TRAPPED IN A BOTTLE FOR A MONTH IF HE KNOCKS OVER ONE MORE GODDAMNED LAMP!"

Clint blinked. "This place is haunted..?"

Tony placed his head in his hands. "Why am I surprised?" He groaned.

Peter trudged downstairs, stumbled into the kitchen, and set a smoke-filled bottle on the table.

Poking at the cork before lifting the bottle up to eye level, Tony glanced over at Peter. "What is this?"

"Tako," the kid mumbled. His eyes suddenly shot up to where Tony was holding the bottle. "Do NOT set him free! Do you know how fucking exhausting it is to trap a spirit? NO YOU DON'T. LEAVE THE BOTTLE ALONE."

Tony quickly set the bottle down before backing away from the table.

"I'm gonna go take a nap. Wake me at dinner." Peter yawned before trudging back upstairs, calling a tired "Don't let him out!" over his shoulder as he went.

The three heroes turned back to face each other and Bruce spoke.

"So as I was saying, I met him because he's Spider-Man."

"WHAT!?!"

— — —
(A/N)
Word Count: 851
Written: November 27th, 2019
Posted: December 17th, 2019

Please take note that I know nothing about ghosts and everything here was from my own imagination.

Original idea:
No spiderman, still has powers. Peter lives in a haunted house somewhere idk with his adopted dad Bruce. He and Bruce can see and talk to the ghosts. One day the avengers try to find out what Bruce's home life is like and find Peter arguing with 'air'

Clearly not what happened but ye.

Uh, Thanksgiving is tomorrow so if you celebrate that happy thanks giving. It won't be thanksgiving when I post this buuuuttt yeah.

Anyway, I was feeling so motivated to write the chapter and am now hitting a block as I write the A/N so have a nice day I guess.

Bai~

(Edit, 12/17/19)
Heh, looks like I forgot to update yesterday. Apologies! ~n~