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Chapter Text

Peter James Stark used to have a different name and a different identity entirely, his old name was Peter Benjamin Parker at least thats all he knew when he found his old file his dad had hidden away in a dusty box. Peter used to live with his mom, he didn't really remember her much, all that  he knew was that she died when he was three and he was shipped off to his biological father how CPS even found out that Peter was the one and only Tony Stark's biological son, he'll never know. Peter also had a few pictures he hides away in his drawer.

Of course he wasn't Tony's only child, Harley his older brother who was practically the opposite of Peter was the oldest and Peter was younger by like.. two years. Morgan is the youngest, she wasn't really planned at least that's what Peter thinks because Tony and Pepper were practically pale in the face for the whole pregnancy and he can still remember how awkward it first was when Pepper started living with them, he could still remember it even though it was years ago- and how Harley didn't like it one bit but softened up to her not even two days later. 

The point is, Peter was different and he knew that. He wasn't stupid to not know, even the Avengers that lived with them for a bit were really close with Morgan and Harley but didn't know how to talk to Peter, but he himself didn't really know how to talk to them either so it wasn't that big of a problem. 

Peter used to get lonely though, a lot, he remembers most of his childhood in his room playing with his toys alone while Harley was next to their dad doing whatever stuff they did in the lab with Pepper staring at the two fondly with a soft smile pressed on her lips. She never had that smile when she looked at him.. she just didn't know how to talk to him and to be fair most people didn't. 

Most people found him weird, he had big geeky glasses, was a nerd, and had tons of allergies so he understood where they came from. He did have friends though, he had Ned- his best friend since he was ten years old and they met in school, recently he also had MJ who kind of scared him but she was also really nice when you get to know her. 

So he wasn't alone, well outside of home anyway. 

Anyway, Peter was fourteen years old, the unknown middle child of the Stark family. There were hardly any pictures of him online and he preferred it that way. Peter also knew he was the product of a one night stand, Tony at least dated Harley's biological mom for three weeks before she got pregnant with him. 

Peter had regular nannies when he was younger as well, he had a favorite one though, Ms Laine, she was nice and made Peter when he was younger not feel as alone as he was until one day they all left and Peter started to take care of himself alone. 

Peter used to get jealous of Harley, Harley who called Pepper "Mom" and was popular outgoing and the pride of Tony Stark. Harley was close with the Avengers who always cringed when they had to talk with Peter. Harley didn't get bullied at school and Harley was- the complete opposite of what Peter was. 

Then Morgan came, and he saw how neither Pepper or Tony changed towards Harley not even the Avengers. So Peter came to the conclusion that in some way, it was his fault for being so different because Peter couldn't even dream of having something like that. 

Peter got used to it in some way or another and figured it out. He was in a home that was full of people who were a family and he was the only outsider there. 

It was fine, really it was. 

Peter woke up today and knew instantly it wasn't going to be a good day because his head was throbbing in pain. He got up sighed and started to get ready when he changed he walked into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. Peter got dressed in his usual clothes, a hoodie that was a bit to big fort him, at least it hid his arms.. it wasn't like he wanted to hurt himself its just sometimes he doesn't know what else to do.

He didn't even really notice Harley walking in. "Morning, Pete." Harley greeted not even glancing at his direction before opening a cabinet to see where the cereal was. 

"Morning." Peter greeted back trying to finish his food as soon as possible because Ned was already spamming his phone full asking him when he was going to arrive. 

"Did you know where the cereal is?" Harley asked and Peter just shook his head, thats when Pepper walked in already dressed in her work clothes she ruffled Harley's hair before she spoke. 

"That cereal had far too much sugar, try to eat something healthy for once, Harley." Peter watched as Harley groaned and closing the cabinet he just opened. 

"Mom, that was literally my favorite cereal, you know that right?" Pepper just smiled. "I do know that." 

She finally glanced at Peter's direction and gave him a small smile. "Good Morning, Peter." 

Peter cleared his throat before answering. "Morning, Pepper." He gave her a polite smile back.

"Mom you're just hiding it from me aren't you? You are making me pay for staying up late with Dad last night-" Pepper's eyebrow shot up. 

"I did not know that, but thank you for the information, Harley." The boy frowned and then started to look for something else to eat for breakfast. 

"Just give the boy his cereal, Pep." Tony said as he walked into the kitchen with Morgan dressed for her kindergarten day.

"Oh you are in trouble, Mister Stark. Didn't we agree that Harley wouldn't stay up with you in the lab during school days?" Tony gave her a peck on the cheek and Peter just had to cringe from watching it. 

"Harley, Harley! Daddy said he's gonna draw with me today when he picks me up!" The four year old practically yelled as she ran towards Harley. 

"Oh are you little miss?" Harley answered and Morgan pouted. "I'm not little I'm already five, Harley!" 

Harley gasped dramatically. "Five? So you're still a little baby!" Morgan shook her head. 

"No! Mommy tell him! Tell him I'm not a baby!" Pepper gave her a small laugh. "Harley stop antagonizing Morgan. She's a big girl already." Morgan eagerly nodded along. 

Peter cleared his throat trying not to cringe as he started at the happy family scene in front of him "I'm gonna.. gonna wait for you in the car. See you there, Harley." Peter said as he went to get his bag. 

"Tell Happy, I'll be there soon." - is all that Harley said before Peter walked into the elevator and pressed the button to get down. 

He quickly walked towards the car and sat in the backseat, Happy was quiet and didn't say much beside the "Morning" he says every day when he drives them to school. 

Peter opened his phone that was already full of texts. 

Ned: Dude you have NO idea what my mom just got me.

Ned: A NEW LEGO SET! 

Ned: Not just ANY Lego Set but the Death Star one. 

Ned: It has 3,808 pieces Peter! 

Peter: No way. 

Ned: Yes way! Think you can come over after school to build it with me? 

Peter: don't we have practice today? 

Ned: right we do! Another day of you drooling over Liz!

Peter: Dude! 

Ned: You know it's true even MJ knows it she always cringes when you stare at Liz

Ned: Its kind of funny

Peter: It is not :(

Peter shut his phone off when Harley walked to the car and sat beside him in the backseat. 

"Morning, Happy." Harley greeted when the car started. "Morning, Kid." 

The ride to school felt like ages, Harley talked Happy's ears off while Peter was staring out of the window. After about fifteen minutes they arrived at the school and both of them got out, Peter thanked Happy and watched as he drove off. 

"I always forget that you're a freshman now." Harley told him and Peter felt his ears going warm. 

"Yeah, uh.." Harley walked to his group of friends before Peter let another word out and he felt something knot in his stomach. Peter sighed deeply rubbing his eye with hand that was sliding under his glasses as he walked into the building, it didn't take long before he spotted Ned. 

Ned quickly walked towards him a grin in his face, while Peter was beside his locker. 

"Dude!" Peter gave him a tight smile before the two started to walk. 

"You absolutely have to come over after school this week- there is no way I'm building that set without you, Peter." Peter brushed his glasses upwards after they were sliding down. 

"You make it sound like I never come over. I literarily slept over at yours last week, Ned." The boy rolled his eyes. "You know thats not what I mean. It's over three thousand pieces, Peter!" He said it like it was a state secret. 

"I know, Ned." Peter whispered back. "And thats really cool I will come over don't freak out." 

Ned huffed as they continued walking. "I didn't even think that my mom would get it for me! But she did and I was so happy-" 

Peter nodded as his eyes instantly went to Liz when he saw her. 

Ned snapped his fingers making Peter blink and look at him. "Really, Peter? You're gonna drool over her this early in the morning?" 

Peter felt how his face flushed up. "Ned, please for the love of God. Shut up, dude." 

Ned shrugged and went quiet for a few seconds before he stopped like he remembered something. 

"Oh right, Peter." He started. 

"hm?" 

"MJ told me- like before you came that, Mr. Harrington managed to arrange a field trip to OSCORP with the team. Isn't that just awesome?" Peter stared for a few seconds before the realization came to mind in Ned's head. 

"Do you think your dad is gonna let you? I mean I heard that he and Norman Osbo-" Peter quickly put his hand over Ned's mouth. 

"Dude!" Ned blinked, before he slapped Peter's hand away. "Sorry forgot how you were keeping your billionaire dad a secret." He whispered. 

Peter just gave him a blank stare. "It's whatever anyway, I think he'll me go." Not that he cares to even look at me twice a day anyway. 

"MJ said that it's gonna be boring probably since we're all still minors and won't be allowed to touch any cool stuff- but like still it's freaking OSCORP!" 

Peter's brain was racing, he did read a few articles of stuff that was done there and his Mom also worked at OSCORP, at least thats what he found on her file. if his Mom worked there it would have had to been cool, right? 

He smiled faintly. "I think'll it'll be cool to go." 

Ned nodded. "I also told MJ that but she just gave me that stare that creeps the hell out of me." Peter knows that stare, that stare also creeps him out. 

"Dude," Ned spoke up once again already scheming. "Do you think they'll let us see the robotics devision? I'm gonna lose my mind if they do." 

Peter shakes his head. "Probably not." he watched as Ned frowns and he gave him a pat on the shoulder comfortingly. 

"What do we have first period?" He asked the boy. "Chemistry." 

Chemistry, he could work with that. 

Chapter Text

Somehow the days passed faster than Peter predicted and he still hasn't got his Dad to sign the permission slip. It wasn't like he was scared, pshht.. no way. It was just this weird feeling in Peter's stomach that was building up, he doesn't even know how to talk to Tony, at least not the way Harley does or Morgan. 

Whenever they do talk its.. awkward to say the least, not only that but some of the Avengers were staying over the last few days and to be honest there was no way he was going to ask his Dad in front of them so he kept.. dragging it towards the next day. 

Speaking of awkward, this certainly was awkward well for Peter anyway. Dinner with his Dad, Pepper, Morgan, Harley and none other than the Avengers. 

Great, this day just couldn't get any worse could it. The last few days, Peter managed to hide away and eat his food in his room, like always but unfortunately Steve bloody Rogers saw him take a plate and walking towards his room, so of course the man had to stop him and make sit at the dining table. 

It wasn't like Peter hated Steve, he was none other than the one and only Captain America.., didn't mean that he liked him because he could barley handle his facials expressions right now trying his best not to glare at the man. 

"Peter, are you alright you look a bit sick in the face." Fuck you Mister Steve Rogers, sir. 

Peter felt his face grow warm when multiple heads turned to look at him, he changed his mind he hated Captain America. Peter cleared his throat forced a tight polite smile on his face and stared at the blonde. 

"I'm er, fine sir. Just.. a headache." He saw how Harley shrugged and how that big grin arrived on the boys face. 

"Peter was always the one to grow sick, Steve. It was like he spent our whole childhood in his room with a fever." Peter quickly stared back down at his plate biting his lip as he played around with his food. It wasn't Harley lied, Peter did get sick a lot, still did, not to mention his glasses and his asthma.

Peter didn't look up, but he heard someone laugh, his Dad was laughing at what Harley said and Peter didn't even know why he felt hurt over it. 

"Oh well that's nothing bad. I was the same in Peter's age-" Captain America continued and Peter just blurred all the noises out. It felt like ages before everyone finally was done and they were cleaning up table. 

Peter got up and went to his room, took the permission slip and walked into the room his Dad was at he was playing with Morgan who was smiling widely ear to ear. 

"Uhm.. Dad?" Morgan turned her head to look at him still smiling. 

"Hi Petey!" She said and Peter gave her a tight smile back carefully patting her head when she walked closer towards him. Tony looked up to stare at him one eyebrow raised. 

"What do you need, kid?" Peter wasn't panicking, he swears he isn't, his Dad won't even care it's just- it's just a field trip. 

"I just, er, need you to sign this for the field trip tomorrow." Peter replied as he took the paper out of the pocket of his hoodie giving it over to Tony who read the slip raising an eyebrow before he stared at back at Peter. 

"Oscorp? Are you sure no one is forcing you to attend, Peter?" The boy just shrugged biting his lip once again. 

"Well I just think- that it would be cool to like see the labs and the uhm, robotics department, I mean it is the number two best company in the country-" 

His Dad chuckled interrupting from his rant before he replied. "And you know we're the number one, Peter. You can stare and look at our labs all day." 

Peter swallowed hard, not meeting his Dads eye. "Maybe but I still want to go." 

It went quiet for a few moments the only noise in the air being Morgan's humming while she was drawing. 

"Alright, Kid. No need to get so defensive." Tony signed the slip and gave it back, his mouth opened to say something but Peter already rushed to leave before he could even let out a sound. 

When he walked out of the room he saw Natasha, the Black Widow staring at him, he just gave her a polite smile and left to his room. He jumped onto his bed and opened his phone. 

MJ: Did you finally get that slip signed, Loser? 

Ned: Don't be mean MJ, it's not really Peters fault. His Dad is pretty anti-Ocsorp 

MJ: I thought Peter was an orphan? 

Ned: Oh I meant his uncle my bad 

Peter: I just got it signed 

Ned: Sick dude! 

MJ: Finally. I'll let Liz now 

Ned: Awww is Liz asking about Peter? 

Peter: Ned js for your sake I would advise you to kindly shut up. 

Ned: No need to get all angry at me. 

Ned: Speaking of angry it's been a week, Peter. 

Ned: You still haven't come over to build the Death Star! 

Ned: I'm dying over here, Peter.

MJ: Liz was not asking for Peter for your info. She's the captain I think you guys forget that sometimes. 

Peter: Idk when I can come over we have a few guests over at our apartment rn so.. 

MJ: who? 

Peter: Just.. some distant relatives 

MJ: Okay. 

Peter shut his phone and stared at the ceiling not even noticing how he was slowly dozing off. 

Peter got up early today just to avoid everyone else. He changed his clothes got ready and went to school with the bus today, when he arrived he already saw Mj and Ned waiting for him. 

Peter huffed as he walked towards them accidentally bumping into someone. 

"Sorry." He muttered as he stared at the guy, who unfortunately turned out to be none other than Flash. 

"How about you watch where you're going, Penis." Peter obviously cringed and he didn't even notice Mj walking up towards them she stared at Flash. 

"Call him that one more time, Eugene and let's see if you can continue on having a place on the team." She told him an evil smile on her face as she did, Flash huffed and walked to Mr. Harrington. 

"You okay, Peter?" Ned asked him and Peter nodded, not like it was anything new. 

Once Mj was talking with Mr. Harrington Ned started to whisper. 

"How did you convince your Dad to let you, Peter?" Peter rolled his eyes audibly sighing.

"He obviously doesn't care, Ned. It's just a field trip." Peter replied as they walked to the bus.

The pair finally made it onto the bus sitting beside each other, both saying their names for their attendance and Peter giving Mr. Harrington his permission slip.

"What do you think is gonna be the best during the tour, the labs or the-" 

"I very much doubt, that we'll see anything worth seeing." Mj interrupted Ned who frowned. 

"Can't you let a man dream?" 

Peter opened his mouth to say something but his phone buzzed. 

Harley: Dude where are you? 

Harley: We're going to be late yk

Peter: Oh i had to go out earlier today 

Peter: since I had a field trip 

Peter: forgot to tell you, 7:46 am, Seen. 

After the bus eventually finally stopped in front of the Oscorp building, Peter couldn't help but stare at the building amazed. He wasn't sure why he was so amazed- he was literally living at Stark Tower. 

"Pretty sick, huh?" Peter couldn't help but to nod along. They walked through security check in and into the main room for the tour. 

The tour through Oscorp was surprisingly not as boring as Peter expected, they actually were allowed into the IT and robotics department that Ned went crazy for. The tour guide also let them look into the Engineering part that Peter quite enjoyed. 

But during the tour, of course during the middle of it. Peter just had to go to the bathroom. 

"Er, Mr. Harrington?" His teacher looked at him raising his eyebrows. 

"Yes, Mr. Parker?" 

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Mr. Harrington nodded and Peter took that as a sign to leave. 

It took him ages to find the bathroom until he eventually did and once he walked out and was done he saw a door a few meters away opened. Peter stared at it, he was curious and he had his camera with him, maybe there was something cool inside? 

Peter found himself walking into the room not even a second later, it was a rather small room. There were tons of tubes with labels on the glass, he took his camera and took pictures of a few of them. 

Peter walked even closer to the tubes examining them. 

Lycosidae, Latrodectus, Therapohosiade, .. 

"Weird names." he mumbled to himself. 

Each tube had a spider in them, they looked strange and none of the ones Peter ever saw so of course he took this chance to take pictures of a few of them, they looked sick. 

Though, one tube caught Peter's eye, it was empty and he felt how he furrowed his eyebrows. 

He continued to look at the tube, maybe the spider was just small..? Until he noticed something on hand, it was a spider, before he could stop himself he slapped it away. But he was still bitten. 

"Fuck." He whispered, slightly panicked as he rushed out of there as soon as he could. 

Peter felt like he couldn't breathe as he made his way back to the group, he was sure his face was pale and to be honest he was not feeling well at all. 

Ned looked worried when Peter managed to the find the group. 

"Peter, you okay, dude? You look really pale.." Ned asked and Peter just nodded since it was such an obvious lie. 

Oh my god what if the spider had venom. 

"Are you sure?" Ned asked again, his face looked even more worried now. 

"Yep, er, fine. I just didn't sleep well today. You know?" Peter replied after a long awkward moment. Ned looked like he still didn't believe Peter but he dropped the subject. 

The day continued on and the group walked into more wings, but to be honest Peter didn't pay anything else much attention because he was feeling like he was about to pass out any moment. 

Peter bit his anxiously, his headache kept getting worse and it was getting so warm. 

"Peter are you sure you're good?" Peter nodded and he saw Ned frown. 

"You look really sick.. should I tell Mr. Harrington?" Peter felt the anxiety build up in his chest. 

"No- no don't do that. I probably just caught the flu or something." Ned stared for a few more moments before he nodded. 

The walk back to the Bus was torture, it was like every single muscle in Peter's body was hurting. Every step made him feel like he was going to throw up and even Mj looked worried. 

Not only that, he felt sensitive everywhere, so the drive back to the school was even worse. 

Peter doesn't even remember how he made it back home, just that he waddled into the penthouse ignoring every stare he was getting because yes he knows he doesn't look great. 

"Dude you look like absolute shit." Harley spat out and Peter couldn't help it, he turned his head look at him glared at him his eye twitching. 

"Oh you think?" Harley just shrugged and Peter made his way into his room not even caring to change his clothes he felt so exhausted. 

I'm gonna die aren't I.

Peter let himself drop onto his bed ignoring his phone that was buzzing from messages, probably from Ned or Mj. He felt himself drift off slowly, ignoring the pain he was feeling in his body. 

Chapter Text

"..Peter- .. you hear me?" 

Peter groaned, it was far too bright and he wasn't sure if he even was awake, just that he felt- like absolute shit.  Peter knew how it felt like to be sick just not this level of sick. 

It's official he's dying, he's dying because he thought it would be fun to sneak into a creepy weird room filled with spiders to take pictures and now he got bitten and is dying. 

Great Peter, just great. 

He felt someone touch him in a way, but he couldn't wake up, waking up meant feeling even worse and he feels far too hot to even breathe properly. 

"Peter, you feel really hot, are you fucking with me, dude?" Another touch, was that.. Harley? Suddenly Peter felt like something was building up, his mouth was salivating and he opened up his eyes. 

"You're awake-, dude Steve let me come up here to get you for dinner but you look like shit,  should I go get Dad? I should shouldn't I.." Peter wanted to say no, he was shaking his head and when he opened up his mouth he went sideways to where the ground was and threw up. 

"Fuck!" Harley yelled while Peter stared at his own vomit in disgust, actually he was so disgusted he might throw up again but instead he groaned because every single muscle in body was throbbing. 

"I'm- gonna go get Dad. Just let me get you a bucket before you, er.." Harley looked well disgusted in Peter's blurry vision because it was too fucking bright and loud and it hurt and it was hot. 

God, can't he just pass out again? 

"Don- don't get Dad." He managed to let out his voice surprisingly raw and hoarse. Peter gasped in some air, it was far too warm in here and did FRIDAY dim the lights? 

Harley put a bucket in front of him, awkwardly patting him on his back. "No wonder why we haven't seen you in like a whole day. I told them you were sick I just didn't-" 

The older boy stopped for a moment. "Did no one check on you? I'm pretty sure Dad said he would when I told him you were sick.." Peter in his agony gave him a deadpan face. 

When has he ever checked up on me? 

Harley shook his head. "Anyway there is no way I'm not telling him. You need to go to the Medbay or the ER or something because thats not a normal cold or flu." 

He got up staring at Peter's vomit disgustingly. "I'll be right back.. maybe find someone to clean this up too." Fuck you too, Harley. 

Peter was heavily breathing as he stared into the bucket, wait where the hell did Harley even find one? He felt confused, and dizzy. Wow, maybe he'll pass out. 

He saw how his phone was buzzing once again, Harley did mention a whole day went by and he hasn't responded to Ned or MJ well, he's fucked isn't he. 

After what felt like ages, there was movement in the room, Peter was squinting through his eyes not really sure who just walked in right now. Oh right, probably Dad and Harley right? 

"Jesus." Yep, that's his Dad. Peter sniffed as he felt himself whimper when someone put his hand on his forehead. 

".. I just found him here- I thought you checked on him, Dad!" He heard someone cough and fuck it was loud far too loud. 

"I forgot, Morgan had her ballet today and-" It went quiet for a moment and Peter felt the nausea creep up again. He practically threw his head back into the bucket and threw up. 

Someone was patting his back comfortingly. "FRI let me know what Peter's temperature is." 

It didn't long for the AI to answer, and now Peter was really sure, he really was dying. He felt like crying. 

"Boss it seems that Peter has a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. It is recommended to instantly search for medical help." Peter felt dizzy far too dizzy, not even hungry when did he last eat? 

"104? Pete you awake buddy? Can you stand?" Fuck you too Dad I can't even open my eyes. 

"Peter?" He felt everything going black again as he drifted off. 

"Fuck." 

It was loud, that was the first thing Peter noticed when he woke up. He was alone in the Medbay, and it was so loud his ears were hurting. He quickly put his hands over his ears as he opened his eyes. His vision was fuzzy it was far too bright, his throat still felt raw something felt different. 

"FRI what time is it?" Peter eventually asked, and for whatever reason he stared around the room. It was empty beside the well medical stuff and the IV tapped on his arm. 

"It is currently 5:37 pm, Peter. Should I alert Boss that you are awake?" The Al answered and Peter rubbed his eyes with his hands. 

"No.. don't.. It's fine." Peter sat up slowly, wincing at the dull ache that wasn't really pain but not anything normal either. His skin was tingling, like static under surface every sound was sharper, every flicker of light was too bright. 

The Medbay was empty. Of course. 

Nothing new, just the usual like every single other time he got sick. He'd gotten used to it, really Peter did. But sometimes it still hurt, not exactly the same way it did when he was eight after brutal asthma attack after not finding his inhaler trying not cry as the nurse tried to comfort him even though all he wanted was his Dad. His Dad who was busy trying to let Harley soften up to Pepper, his Dad who did everything for Pepper, Harley and Morgan. 

Just not him. 

It was fine, Peter was fine. He was used to this after all and he promised himself not to let himself hope but sometimes.. he just doesn't know what's so wrong or different about him that makes his Dad love him less then the others. Or everyone actually. 

Peter swallowed hard and pulled his knees up to his chest. The room smelled like medicine and hospitals, he loathed that smell. 

He sat like that for a few minutes, trying to ignore the weird hum under his skin. It was like his body had become a live wire, every nerve vibrating just beneath the surface. 

Eventually, biology won over confusion. Peter really needed to pee. 

With a groan he got up, swinging his legs off the bed and stood up. For whatever reason he kind of felt taller. The world tilted though for a second so that was probably why. The Medbay floor beneath him felt cold under his bare feet as he made his way to the bathroom. 

He reached for the door handle as usual. Peter's hand twitched, his palm slick with sweat and when he pushed to open the door-- 

CRACK! 

The handle came off in his hand. Not just the handle, no. The entire door lurched, hinges screaming before screaming right off and slamming into the opposite wall with a metallic clang. 

Peter stood staring at the mess, frozen with his mouth agape. 

"uh.." He stared at the mangled door in disbelieve. "I didn't even push that hard." 

He looked down at his hands, no blood no scratch no anything. Maybe the door was just broken? 

But Tony would never build in a door that would break that easily. 

Okay, something is obviously wrong. 

"Don't freak out, Peter." The teen muttered to himself as he walked into the bathroom finished his business and started to splash some cold water on his face. 

He stared into the mirror. 

That was not Peter. 

His jaw looked sharper, and somehow his hair was curlier than usual. The T-shirt- wait who changed his clothes? Whatever, the T-shirt he usually wears was small on him and he had abs.

"What the fuck." he whispered clearly panicked. "What the actual hell." 

Another flick of panic went through him, what if his Dad found out. 

What his Dad- Tony Stark finding out that his already weird son became more of a freak than he already is. 

"FRIDAY?" He spoke up after a few moments of silence. 

"Yes, Peter?" 

"Delete all footage of what happened here in the last ten minutes." Peter bit his lip anxiously. 

"Already done, anything else?" Peter just shook his head and the Al went silent. 

Peter stared at the mess and it didn't take long for him to do something. He cleaned up most of what he could clean up. He leaned the door back against the frame and tried to forget whatever he just saw in the bathroom. 

As soon as he was done he left the Medbay, trying to rush into his room. 

"Peter?" He heard someone say his name. He turned his head and saw Pepper. Damn it. 

"You okay, sweetie? Helen didn't tell me that she already discharged you?" Peter clenched his jaw and stared at the ground his shoulders going tense. 

"Er, I'm fine. Pretty sure whatever I caught was just a.. bad case of the flu. Anyway I'm going to my room." Peter talked so fast he wasn't sure if the woman even was able to hear what he was trying to tell her. 

Pepper looked.. well however she always looks when she has to talk to him, a polite smile pressed on her lips, of course not the same fond smile she always wears when she looks at his Dad or Harley.. or Morgan. 

"Well if you feel better later join us for dinner, okay?" Peter just nodded and left before she could say anything else. 

When he finally arrived in his room he shut the door closed and jumped onto his bed, his phone was filled with messages. 

Peter: Hey 

Ned: Dude what the fuck

Ned: do you know how BAD you scared me the last three days

Ned: I was quite literally crying over here thinking you died 

Ned: What happened? 

MJ: He's not wrong.

MJ: I also send you stuff 

MJ: You didn't respond. 

Peter: I caught like a really bad case of the flu 

Peter: Pretty sure I just slept it all off I dont even remember anything from the last few days 

Ned: You okay now though? 

Peter: Yeah 

MJ: Are you coming to school tmrw? 

Peter: Obviously. 

Peter: Can you send me all the stuff I missed? 

Ned: Sure  Seen 6:07 pm

Peter shut off his phone with a deep sigh. Something happened after that spider bit him, he got up and stared back into the mirror. 

He looked different and he just noticed he- he can see well. Far too well. 

He can hear everything. 

He's super strong and has abs now apparently. 

Holy shit did I manage to give myself powers by being stupid? 

Chapter Text

Peter was sticky. 

Exactly sticky, he figured that out after he managed to break the drawer in his bedroom and the drawer was stuck in his hands for a whole thirty minutes before it finally went off. 

So on his to do list:  figure out what kind of freaky stuff the spider gave him. 

Peter luck in its finest, not only that but all his clothes were far too small, he didn't need glasses anymore and he was taller. Oh and he also had abs. 

Peter never worked out in his life, how the heck did he manage to get abs. 

No one noticed of course, well at least most of them. 

Ned was confused when Peter came back and was taller and.. no glasses? 

"Peter did you grow or something?" The shorter boy asked and Peter felt sweat building up in his palm, since when was school so incredibly loud. 

"Er, I don't think so?" Ned looked confused staring at his face for another few seconds. 

"Where are your glasses?" 

"Oh I switched to er contact lenses.." 

"I thought those made your eyes itch?" 

Yep, Ned is probably going to figure it out sooner or later at one point. 

Anyway Peter once again ended up at the dining table with none other than Steve fucking Rogers forcing him to eat with them again, he was still pale in the face because of the whole.. drawer situation and not to mention that everything was so freaking loud. 

Also, Peter did notice there was some sort of tension at the table so it was awkward, great. He was playing around with his pasta, wait does he have to be a superhero now since he had powers. 

Should he tell Ned? He probably should shouldn't he.. 

"Peter?" The teen switched back to reality his head turning upwards from his plate where multiple sets of eyes were on him, Pepper looking more.. awkward than usual, Harley looked tense, Morgan was well.. Morgan. 

"Yes?" 

"Pepper was asking you something." His Dad answered and Peter blinked a few times before he replied. 

"Oh er, sorry. I spaced out. What do you need, Pepper?" His Dad raised an eyebrow while Natasha whispered something to Steve that somehow made him suppress a smile. 

He gave Pepper his usual smile he gave her and she gave him one back. 

"I was asking if you were feeling better already? Harley told me you went back to school today and I just want to make sure you're healthy because it hasn't even been a week." 

Oh. Peter cleared his throat, his shoulders tensing up, really this couldn't get more awkward. 

Pepper and he never talked. 

Like never, unless it was about his siblings or his Dad sometimes school but that was it. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Guess I just had to sleep it off or something." Harley coughed giving Peter a deadpan look as if he was supposed to figure something out. 

"Well I'm glad you feel better, Peter." Steve told him randomly and Peter furrowed his eyebrows. 

"Thank you..?" 

"Well, Peter." Pepper started again fidgeting with her hands. 

"Yes, Pepper?" Morgan looked up, her face showing that she's confused. 

"Why do you not call Mommy, Mommy like me and Harley do, Petey?" The five year old asked brightly and Harley laughed on the water he was sipping from making Steve slap him on the back. 

Peter could feel how the room stilled, he could see how it's confusing to her, even Harley calls Pepper Mom. Peter just.. Peter had a Mom well he used to and even if he didn't remember much that was his Mom and will forever be his mom.Tony opened his mouth to answer but Peter answered before he could. 

"Because she isn't my Mom, Mo." The teen replied casually but somehow that made Morgan even more confused and Pepper kind of had a hurt look on her face. 

Peter could feel Tony's eyes on his face. It's not like he said anything wrong. It went quiet, complete silence. It wasn't cruel, just the simple truth that went shattering onto the dining table. 

Morgan frowned, still looking confused. "Oh." she said before she continued. "But you call Daddy like we do?" Peter shrugged, his skin still felt tingly and he was trying not to twitch. 

"Well that's because he is my Dad. Er, I think you are bit too little to understand. You'll figure it out when you're older." Morgan looked between them then she nodded and went back to eating the pasta on her plate. 

Eventually, dinner was done and Peter got up avoiding any eye contact with his Dad or Pepper. He could practically feel Tony's eyes at him for the rest of the dinner. 

He walked into his room practically jumping onto his bed as he stared at the ceiling. 

But then he heard footsteps, and suddenly the door to his room opened. His Dad walked in a stern look on his face that made Peter feel tense. Peter didn't get up though the two just stared at the other for few minutes before Tony spoke up. 

"What the hell was that, Peter?" His Dad asked sharply. 

"What do you mean?" Tony put his hand on his temple. 

"Dinner." He snapped. "How could you say that she's not your Mom? In front of her?  How in hell did you think that was okay?" 

Somehow, the words hit harder than they should have. His dad was never mad at him, he never noticed him enough to even get mad at him. Now he is mad but because of Pepper. 

Wow. 

Though, Peter swallowed hard. "I didn't mean it like that-" 

"You didn't mean too?" Tony's voice cut through him like metal scraping glass. "You were harsh, Peter far too harsh. Pepper- Pepper is practically your Mom in every way possible-" 

Peter didn't mean too but he interrupted his dad without meaning too. "Morgan asked me a question. What was I supposed to do? Lie? Not tell the truth? I'm sorry to burst your little happy family bubble you build up here but she's not my Mom! At least not in the way she is with Morgan or Harley and you know this, Dad!" 

Tony went quiet for a few seconds. "You were not supposed to break Pepper's heart in front of your five year old sister, Peter. And what do you even mean by that? Are you saying we pick favorites, Peter? We all love you equally-" 

Peter's sudden bitter laugh made Tony stop. "Sure." 

Tony gave him a sharp look. "Peter are you suggesting that me and Pepper are playing favorites?" His dad sighed. 

"Pepper loves you like as if you were her own biological kid, Peter. It doesn't matter about blood or- or flesh or DNA-" Peter shook his head. 

"Dad, I love Pepper. I do, but we are in no way close in that kind of way and everyone knows that. I never connected with her like Harley did." The sweat was building up in his palm. 

"It's not like you ever gave her the chance like Harley." That was kind of what made Peter snap. Being compared to Harley, he hated that. 

"Are you kidding me?" The air shifted. "She's not my Mom and never will be. I had a Mom and she's gone now. I don't need or want Pepper to replace her, I doubt she wants that either." 

Tony went still, looking as if he was punched. 

"You might not care about my Mom, but I do. I don't care if she just was another one night stand for you." 

His Dad was still quiet he took in a deep breath before replying. 

"Don't." his voice surprisingly low. "Don't say that like it's supposed to- you're switching the topic." 

"I'm not." Peter shot back not caring how loud his voice had become. "I'm saying the truth. She's your wife. She's Morgan's Mom and Harleys Mom because he wants her to be. But she certainly isn't my Mom." 

Tony gave him a humorless laugh. "Look kid, I don't know what your problem is right now but that is no excuse to act like an asshole! You do know we were all scared last week when you got sick right- You scared Harley to death!" 

Peter tried not to answer. "Yeah because you were too busy to even check on me!" 

His Dad froze for a second and Peter bit the inside of his cheek, his throat was burning. "That's not fair." 

"It's not like it's anything new. I'm used to this you know? You guys always forgetting me." 

The man sighed rubbing his eyes with his hand. "Pete we don't forget you-" 

Peter shook his head. "Don't lie." 

For half a second his Dad looked like he was, what was the word? Regret or something.. 

Then he opened his mouth again. "You're grounded." 

"I didn't ask to be born in this stupid family!" Peter yelled. 

His Dad snapped back. "Yeah well I didn't ask for your attitude! Guess we both can't have what we want." His voice was rough. 

Peter bit his lip. "You're a Stark, Peter. Maybe start acting like one. Try to be a bit more like Harley." Peter's eye twitched but he won't cry, he wouldn't. His Dad's voice was harsh and he never- he never noticed Peter hard enough to even get mad at him. No matter what he did. 

The words were ringing in his ears. Peter stared at him for a second, long enough to see the line of Tony's jaw - the look in his Dads eyes that made him snap. 

He didn't say anything, he couldn't because his chest felt tight. As if he couldn't talk before it turning into a scream. 

He turned away walked to his chair and took off the hoodie that was on quickly dressing himself with it. 

"Peter what are you doing?" His hands were shaking as he ignored his Dad. 

He passed by Tony quickly ignoring every single set of eyes that was on him. 

"Peter James Stark you get back here right now!" His Dad said sharply while Pepper asked him something. 

"Tony what's wrong?" As if they couldn't hear the screaming match that was going on. 

"Don't you walk away from me." His father started again, which made Peter look over his shoulder. 

"Why not? You already said everything you wanted too." 

"Yeah because obviously someone had to." Tony shot back. "You can't say crap like that and just leave- and its far to late for you to leave the Tower right now anyways! You can't say stuff like that and act like it doesn't matter." 

Peters jaw clenched. "I never said it didn't matter, Dad." 

"Then what was that?" The man demanded. "How could you possibly even say crap like that!" 

"Mommy, Daddy said the c word!" 

"Let's get you to your room, sweetie okay? You too, Harley." 

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Well I guess I am so sorry that I can't be the perfect son- or Harley to you, Dad. Really my bad." 

For a second Tony didn't reply. Then his voice came low and cold. 

"All I wanted you to be was my son. But you sure make that hard sometimes, Peter." 

That one hurt. Really it shouldn't have but it. 

He grabbed his sneakers, his phone- whatever was on the floor. 

"Fine you don't want to deal with me? Sure, I'll gladly help you." 

"Peter-" 

"No." He shoved past him once again, his voice breaking. "You made it real clear what kind of son you want and it's not me." 

Tony's voice followed him through the hall as he walked. Sharp- mad and desperate. 

"Don't you dare walk out of that door, Peter!" 

But the teen was already moving. He hit the elevator button, heart hammering but he didn't look back. When the doors slipped open he stepped inside, every nerve in his body practically having a mental breakdown. 

FRIDAYS voice came on slowly. "Peter, Boss has restricted outdoor access-" 

"Override." Peter muttered. "Code 9-4-7-P" 

The system hesitated for a few moments before it replied. "Access granted." 

"Peter!" - was the last thing Peter heard when the elevator started moving down. 

Peter didn't know how long he had been walking for. Just long enough for the Tower to fade behind him  and the  city turning unfamiliar. 

His hood was up, hands in his pockets because Peter won't lie, it was cold as fuck. 

The teen's heart was pounding, he was still so freaking annoyed- that was probably the first fight he ever had with his Dad and it did not turn out pretty. 

He stopped as he walked into an alley under a streetlight, trying to catch his breath. 

That's when someone spoke. 

"You look absolutely horrid." 

Peter looked up, it was a stranger, but for whatever reason he didn't really feel danger or something. The guy looked his age as well. 

Peter managed to let out a small huff then he laughed. 

"Yeah," he said, voice raw and hoarse from the yelling. "Feels like it, too." 

Chapter Text

"You look absolutely horrid." 

The words drifted through the cold air that was making Peter's face flush red. 

"Yeah," he practically muttered a smile pressed on his lips. "Feels like it too." 

Peter stared at the guy, he looked about his age, also incredibly.. posh in a way? He was standing under a streetlight, a cigarette was dangling awkwardly on his lips. The stranger had the kind of posture that just screamed that he was from money- perfect hair, clean jacket and not the mention that he was ridiculously.. handsome. His hands were shoved in his pockets looking like he trying to act tough. 

The teen took a drag, coughed immediately and nearly dropped the cigarette.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Wow, real smooth." 

The guy groaned wiping at his mouth clearly looking disgusted. "Yeah, yeah. First time, I thought it'd be funny to piss off my asshole of a father. Just to see his reaction when he smells me." 

Peter snorted. "Pretty sure he'll smell you from all the way from your home, dude. It freaking reeks of smoke over here." 

The guy scoffed. "You always look that rough, or did you tonight escape from the rats that were chasing you?" 

Peter turned his head, eyes squinting at him. "You always sound like that, or is it an allergy thing?" 

The stranger blinked. "What do you mean? Sound like what?" 

Peter smirked. "Like you swallowed a dictionary and act like the prince of England." Peter answered. 

For whatever reason the guy didn't look offended, he just laughed  the sound echoing in the empty street. 

"Yeah, well that's what three years of boarding school do to you, mate. My old man thought it'll make me 'disciplined' and 'well mannered'" He made air quotes with disdain. "Just made me hate uniforms to be honest." 

Peter smiled faintly. "So what, you got kicked out or something?" 

The teen grinned, leaning against the lamppost. "No, I left. my dear old Dad requested- sorry ordered me to come back home, because apparently I need to learn about my duty as the heir of his fortune." 

Peter let out a low whistle. "Well, doesn't that just sound jolly." 

"Yeah right." The guy said dryly. "Anyway what about you? You look like you just escaped a mental hospital." 

Peter tugged at his sleeves, ignoring his phone that was buzzing in his pocket. It's not like his Dad can trace him- he removed that tracker when he 12 just to see if anyone would notice. 

But no one did. 

"Honestly. It feels like that, to be honest." The stranger hummed as he stared at Peter, his eyes narrowing. 

"Anyway, my name's Harry. Harry Osborn." Well, fuck. - is all Peter thought. Well that at least explains the posh British accent, Peter stared at him raising an eyebrow. 

"This is kind of the part where you tell me your name." Harry told him clearly looking amused. 

"You won't believe me." Peter answered, his grin wide as he didn't even try to hide his amusement. 

"C'mon, just tell me." 

Peter thought for a few seconds, licking his lips as he stared straight into Harry's eyes. "Peter. Peter Stark." 

Harry froze for a good second before he bursted out laughing, Peter joining him not even two seconds later. 

"Mate, no wonder you look familiar! I think I saw you at a gala once- Gosh my old man loathes your dad. Is your Dad as much of an asshole as mine is or is that just an Osborn special?" 

Harry Osborn, only son and child of Norman Osborn, the owner of OSCORP- wow fate really fucks Peter off? That same company gave Peter freaky spider powers not even a few days ago. 

"My Dad doesn't really like yours either." That was an understatement, he knows how much Tony hates Norman- apparently those two had a huge fight or something a few years back at a gala and there were even a few scandals when Peter was young. 

Harry tried to take another drag and without fail he started to cough again, once he stopped he threw the cigarette onto the ground and stomped at it. 

"How old are you anyway?" Harry asked Peter eventually. 

"I'm fourteen, what about you?" Harry sniffed still leaning against the lamppost. 

"I'm fifteen, had to er retake a grade which made Dad so mad he shipped me off to England for like three years." Well thats just fucked up. 

"What about you? Your Dad as much of a dick as mine is?" Peter shrugged, fidgeting with his hands as Harry stopped leaning against the streetlight and signaled Peter to follow him, the two started to walk. 

"I don't know. Guess he just doesn't- I mean I kind of stormed off today because we had a huge fight." Harry hummed, a slight smirk on his face. 

"Hm, so as much as a dick as mine is then." Harry's eyes drifted towards Peter's pocket that was buzzing with his phone. He raises his eyebrow. 

"Your Dad doesn't have a tracker on you?" Peter clears his throat. "No he had one, I just removed it when I was twelve and he didn't notice it until.. now." 

The two kept walking, the street was empty only cars passing through and a few drunkards messing around. 

Though the phone kept buzzing and Harry glanced back towards where Peter's phone was. 

"You gonna check that before it explodes, Stark Junior?" 

The air smelled faintly of smoke and cold. "Don't ever call me that again." 

Harry laughed under his breath. "Do you think he'll send a drone to find you?" 

Peter gave him a deadpan expression. "Harry, do not be ridiculous, dude." 

Harry gave him an exaggerated gasp. "But- but, Peter, darlin- it's none other than the great Tony Stark himself, blowing up your phone!" 

He leaned in, whispering mockingly. "Careful, mate. He might send the Avengers after you." 

Peter shot him a glare. "Aren't you just hilarious." 

Harry smirked. "Thank you. I try my best." 

The phone buzzed again, longer this time, a call. Peter finally pulled it out, it was his Dad calling him, and a wall of unread messages. 

Dad: Peter

Dad: Peter get back home this instant. 

Dad: Did you remove my tracker on your phone? 

Dad: Peter, look we'll talk it out when you're back okay? 

Dad: Just come home, please 

Dad: I won't yell   Seen, 9:25 pm 

Harley: Dude, dad is freaking out 

Harley: So is Mom

Harley: look I get why you don't wanna call her mom but I think u kinda overreacted 

Harley: you both did 

Harley: Pete

Harley: you good?  

Harley: Please be safe I'm sure Dad didn't mean it like that yk how he is  Seen, 9:29 pm 

Harry pulled a face as he stared at the messages. "Ugh, what he do? Forget your birthday or something?" 

Peter quickly turned the phone back off and shoved into his pocket. "Er, not really. I don't even understand why he got mad." 

Harry whistled, the grin on his face never leaving his face. 

The teen next to him shoved his hands into his pockets as they crossed the street. 

"So," he said glancing sideways to Peter. "what school do you go to? You kind of seem like the overachieving type." 

Peter huffed. "Midtown High. It's a STEM school." 

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, mate?" 

Peter frowned as they continued walking. "Yeah, why?" 

Harry's grin managed to widen, clearly amused. "Well looks like we're gonna see each other more, Stark Junior. That's where I'm transferring." 

Peter stopped walking, frozen for a few seconds. "You're kidding." 

"Nope." Harry said cheerfully. "I start Monday. Apparently public school is supposed to make me more.. I don't know likable or grounded?" He told him in a mocking tone that earned a snort from Peter. 

"Good luck with that." Peter said dryly. "You don't scream public- well not really a public school since most the people that go there are rich snobby kids but still. They are going to eat you alive." 

Harry pressed a hand to his chest, faking his offense. "Ouch- you truly wound me, Peter." 

Peter rolled his eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile hinted on his face. 

"Just saying it's a jungle so I hope you brought bug spray." 

Harry sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Well, I survived boarding school. I don't think this can be any worse." 

"Depends on who you befriend." Peter muttered, shoving his hands that were practically frozen into his hoodie. 

"Guess I'll have to find out." Harry said easily. "And hey- maybe you can show me around. I don't know like save me of getting eaten alive by those kids." 

Peter glanced over. "You really think hanging out with me is your best survival skill?" 

Harry smirked. "I mean you are Tony Starks kid, Stark Junior." wrong Stark, harry. Truly wrong Stark you met. 

Peter chuckled. "Yeah no, they don't know that. I managed to hide that. Thankfully." 

Harry put a piece of gum in his mouth, looking impressed in a way. 

"You know I might do that, but my old man truly loves to show off so I can't.. speaking of my old man I should get back home before he kills me." Harry glanced at the pocket where Peter's phone was at. 

"You should probably do that too. Who knows, maybe if you cross a line, your father might as well ship you off to boarding school for the next three years," 

Peter nodded.

"Just give me your number first." Harry added on, and the teen gave him his phone. 

"Alright, Stark Junior. I'll see you Monday. Try not to miss me too much." Harry told him giving him a wink. 

"See you Monday, Harry." And eventually the two parted ways. 

Peter opened up his phone to look at the time. 

10:47 pm. 

Well looks like he was fucked. 

By the time Peter made it back to the Tower, it was already past eleven. 

When he slipped into the lobby, FRIDAYS voice - the menace went off. 

"Boss, it seems Peter has arrived." It didn't take long for Tony to rush towards him, his face pale and Pepper behind him looking, well guilty in a way. 

"Peter James Stark!" 

"Peter." Tony started again his voice was low and sharp. "Where were you? Do you know how many messages I send you? How many times Harley tried to call you- Why was your tracker offline? Do you know how worried we were? How worried I was?" 

Thats a first. 

Peter didn't look at his Dad, his hoodie was still up, his skin all tingly and his head was throbbing. 

Eventually he did reply though. "I was with a friend. Nothing dangerous. Just needed space." 

Tony froze. "A friend? Are you kidding me, Peter? Do you think I'm stupid enough to believe that? You've been gone for hours! And I even called that friend of yours Ted-" 

"Ned." 

"And he sure as hell didn't know where you were. Steve thought I was overreacting when I wanted to send the team out. I know you weren't with a friend so-" 

Peter's head snapped up. "You don't know all of my friends. I have other ones that aren't Ned, you know. I actually have a life, not that you know anything about it." 

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Peter, just tell me the truth."

"I said I was with a friend and I told you the truth!" Peter cut in again, his voice defensive. 

His Dad ran a hand through his hair. "Peter this wasn't just a casual hangout. Your tracker was offline. We all had no idea where you were what you were doing and you didn't even bother to respond." 

Peter crossed his arms rolling his eyes. 

"Did you just roll your eyes at me, Peter?" 

Pepper slowly stepped forward. "Tony, maybe just let him-" 

"No, Pepper." Tony snapped as his voice dropped. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How scared we were that something happened to you? For fucks sake, Peter I don't even recognize you anymore!" 

"What could you possibly mean by that, Dad."  Peter shot back. 

"You know what I mean." 

"No, Dad. You never knew me enough to even say that." 

Tony's face dropped. "You don't mean that." 

Peter didn't say anything further, he just passed by the man, ignoring the look Harley was giving him and he locked himself in his room. 

He didn't get out until the next when he knew his Dad went out because of a mission. 

Chapter Text

Peter hadn't left his room in two days. 

Harley had knocked a few times, even texting him to try to talk to him, of course nothing worked. Peter was pissed, for the first time in his life he was angry, really angry at his Dad. Steve even tried to get him to join them for dinner on Saturday. 

Talking of Saturday, his Dad made sure to go on a mission and avoid Peter as long as possible, nothing new. 

Also apparently, he can crawl on the wall. He figured that one out when he was bored. 

Peter's stomach felt fuzzy, he gets hungry far more easily now than before, probably an enhanced metabolism. He did have snacks in his room but it's been two days and he's running low on them. 

Peter was also sure that he'll go crazy if he keeps staring at the same walls. 

He debated it for a few more minutes, glancing at the door until he just sighed and got up. He tugged on his hoodie and put his hands into his pockets as he started to walk. 

The Tower hummed with noise, it always did, just without him. 

He hesitated, already regretting his choice. 

His Dad's voice was there, so was.. Uncle Rhodey's? He hasn't seen him in months. 

Peter froze in the doorway. 

No one had noticed him, yet. 

His Dad was there, sleeves rolled up, a bruise in his cheek, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter as he talked with Harley and Rhodey. Pepper stood to the side, she and Peter hadn't really talked since well.. whatever happened Friday. Morgan sat in her seat, legs swinging as she was reading a picture book. 

Peter bit his lip, tugging at his sleeves. 

"Peter." His uncle's voice broke whatever was going through his mind. "Holy.. has it really been that long? You've grown taller. Where are your glasses anyway?" 

Peter saw the way his Dad was avoiding to look at him. "Oh. I, er switched to contact lenses." 

The teen nibbed at his lips, this was wrong he should've just stayed in his room. 

"You look just like, Tony. It's freaky at this point." Peter's jaw tightened eyes on the ground as he heard Harley snicker. "You're practically a carbon copy of him. Just more well behaved and mannered. Honestly." 

Peter tried to smile really he did, but he saw how Tony's smile faltered. The way he swallowed hard and suddenly went to go to make coffee. He saw how his Dad's smile fell halfway and he knew that look. He hated that look. Tony didn't even bother masking it. 

Peter's stomach was twisting itself into knots. 

It crushed him in a way he didn't understand. 

In a way, Peter hated it too. Looking like Tony, the way his face moved, his voice, everything was just a relation to the man. 

"Yeah." he said quietly, his voice dangerously low. "Guess that's something." 

Rhodey laughed, Harley snickered and Pepper had an awkward smile pressed on her lips. 

Tony's eyes finally flickered towards him, sharp and measuring. "Glad that you're embracing your family traits, Pete." 

Peter's lips twitched but it wasn't a smile. "Some of us can't choose our family traits, would rather look than my mom than you, really." 

His dad's jaw tightened, he saw how Rhodey looked confused clearly looking at Pepper for answers but she just went back to her tablet. 

"Careful." 

Peter's hands were in his pockets, he was trying trace a finger on where a scar used to be but the freaky spider powers even removed that, it was weird but in a way Peter found comfort in them. 

"Careful of what, Dad? Telling the truth?" 

Tony's eyes narrowed, voice low and clipped. "Saying things the wrong way, also don't think I don't know about the disappearing act. Pepper and Harley told me, you seriously haven't gone out of your room since Friday?"

Peter tensed up almost immediately, not even staring at his Father. "So what?" 

Tony looked annoyed, when did he not. He saw the way his uncle was staring at the scene happening in front of him awkwardly. 

"So, I'm telling you to stop the attitude, Peter. I get that your thirteen and all that jazz, Harley had that phase too but-" 

"I'm fourteen." Peter interrupted, swallowing hard as he watched Pepper carry Morgan out of the room, Rhodey following behind her. 

Peter's head was throbbing and he didn't care about the hollow feeling inside his stomach anymore. His dad went quiet, of course he did. Peter sighed walked over to the fridge and took out whatever leftovers were inside.

Tony let out a long breath  

"I'm going back to my room." The teen didn't even bother hearing a reply as he stormed off to his room. 

The room was quiet, in a way that pressed heavily against him. Peter was sitting at the edge of his bed, hoodie sleeves half up as he stared at his bare arms. 

Bare. 

The skin was smooth now, unbroken, so flawless like nothing was ever there that made him feel uneasy. But he could feel it in a way, an echo of what used to be there. 

The lines, the marks, the cuts  the history of every single time he just had to do something to feel alive again, having the need to know that he exists. 

Peter created this habit by himself when he was twelve, when the world felt too loud and empty at once, when the bullying was extra bad and the comments stung so hard he felt like crying every time he had to walk into school. 

The cuts had been his own private punctuation, the cuts, the reminders that he could feel, that he could control something, when everything else in his head was complete chaos. 

Now, thanks to the spider bite, they were gone. The powers had healed his skin so good you'd never think they were ever there. That should have been good. That should have made him stronger, more invincible. 

It didn't. 

Instead, it left a hollow pit of dread inside his stomach. Something that used to be painful, but honest was gone. He rubbed his thumb along his forearm slowly, tracing where the lines had been in his mind. There was a comfort he couldn't quite name, but it was still there, tiny but there. 

Peter could still feel it. 

The room smelled faintly of cold air and dust. The city beyond the windows murmured softly, distant car sounds, sirens, the occasional honk. 

Usually, Peter didn't hear the city inside the Tower but since he got these powers he could hear, everything, it showed him something, somehow. 

The world would keep moving even if he didn't. 

Peter's eyes traced his forearm once again. It looked empty, bare, wrong. 

"This is normal." he muttered to himself trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "So why don't I feel normal?" 

Because he isn't he reminded himself, he became even more of a freak than he already was. 

It didn't take long for Peter to debate to walk into the bathroom, he opened the one certain drawer where he kept the small blade he hides. He sat inside the bathtub, staring at the ceiling before sharply breathing in. 

He remembers the way his dad's smile faltered when Rhodey said he looked like him. 

"Do I really look like him?" He does, Peter knows he does, it's all people say when he joins Tony, Harley and Pepper to galas. 

His hand was shaking. 

Peter breathed in, once then twice, until he flexed his arm and lined the blade up to his skin, gripping tightly as he pressed down and drew a quick, short line across his flesh. 

Peter gasped at the feeling, a rush of relief was going through his body, he did it a few more times. He stared at his arm when he was done, his skin was already healing, the cuts weren't that deep but it was still bleeding. 

Peter doesn't know how long he sat there, probably hours but he watched as his skin stitched itself together as if the cuts were never there. 

The teen sniffed and wiped his eyes that were flushed with newly found tears. 

He always was the rotten one. 

Maybe that's why no one ever actually understood him. 

Eventually though, Peter actually got up, cleaned the tub and left the bathroom. 

He needed air, desperately. 

Peter knew he looked like a mess, but while he was in the hallway he heard his Dad talking with Rhodey. 

"I just don't know what to do with him, you know?" Tony told the man, sighing dramatically. "It's just so much easier with Harley and Morgan and I try, I really try but he- he just changed so much." Peter almost laughed out loud. 

It went quiet for a few moments. "He's a teenager, Tones. I'm pretty sure it's just a phase." 

"Harley was fourteen too and he never acted that way." 

Rhodey sat down next to where his Dad was. "You know that's not fair, Tones. You can't just compare-" 

Peter doesn't know when he even decided to do it but he walked right back to his room took his jacket and his sneakers and walked right into the elevator. 

He didn't even bother telling anyone, he pressed a button his head was still throbbing and his skin was tingly.  It stung.

Peter needed air. 

Chapter Text

Peter stepped out of the Tower and into the cold, the wind was biting at his cheeks. Peter shoved his hands deep into his jackets pockets as he just walked, he didn't know where but he just walked. 

The teen didn't know where he was going, he didn't care, his skin was stinging, and his Dad's words were blurry repeating themselves over and over in his head. 

"I just don't know what to do with him, you know?" His Dad never knew what to do with him, it was nothing new and Peter didn't understand why he was taking this so hard. 

He knew he was different than Harley, he knew his Dad wasn't- he wasn't as close to him like he was to Morgan or Harley but sometimes he just wished, just hoped that for once he would be at least worth something to him. 

The streets were packed, he walked past more and more people even bumping into someone. 

"Ms. Laine?" Peter spoke up, his voice still hoarse and raw after his asthma attack. He hated hospitals, and the bed was uncomfy. Ms. Laine closed the book she was reading and gave him a soft smile. 

"Yes, Peter?" 

"Why doesn't my Dad like me?" Peter asked, he didn't know why he was acting like a baby, he was already eight! But.. sometimes he just.. 

Ms. Laine's expression fell, but she still kept her smile, stroking Peter's curly hair comfortingly. 

"Your Dad loves you very much, Peter. He's just.. busy sometimes." 

Peter bit on his lip, sniffing. 

"But he's never too busy for Harley. What does he have that I don't?" 

Peter let out a sharp breath, he kept walking as he shut the memory out of his system. His mind was buzzing, skin was tingly and everything was loud. 

"Ms. Laine, are you going to leave me too?" Peter breathed out trying not to cry as he saw the woman with an unusual expression on her face. 

"You're a smart boy, Peter. But I don't work here, anymore." Peter stared at the ground as he felt the tears well up in his eyes, Ms. Laine casually patted him on his head, stroking his curls comfortingly one last time. 

"Goodbye doesn't mean forever, Peter. Be good for Mr. Stark, okay? You'll have a little sister soon as well, I doubt you'll miss me for too long." 

The memories were clinging themselves into Peter's mind, he let another breath forming a small cloud due to the cold outside. 

His thoughts circled back to Tony and Rhodey's conversation he overheard, the way his chest tightened even though he already knew, already used to it. 

Peter tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that it didn't matter. That maybe his Dad in someway was right, maybe he really was done trying. 

Somehow, it hurt in a way he didn't understand. 

A siren wailed from far, and a couple passed by him, laughing their hands brushing the other. Peter ducked his head, pulling the hood tighter towards him. 

Peter didn't notice where his feet were taking him until the streetlights thinned out,  and the air smelled faintly of rain and garbage. The city narrowed from here, brick walls closing in, puddles catching pieces of neon from a diner sign nearby.

He stopped when he noticed how quiet it was. 

Still loud of course, just less. 

For a moment, he actually believed he was alone. Then a voice came from the deeper part of the alley. 

"Hey, Kid." The man said, half coughing as he spoke. He looked about mid thirty's, maybe a bit older. His eyes were sharp but they looked kind, his hair was kind of messy and a brownish color.

"You shouldn't be out here this, late." 

Peter bit his lip, hesitating. "I'm fine." 

The man tilted his head. "You don't look it, you've been crying?" 

"I said I'm fine." Peter repeated, sharper than he meant. 

The man smiled faintly, not offended. "Yeah. Guess I've said that few times myself." 

Something about his tone made Peter's chest ache, the man didn't sound like he was judging him. 

"I'm Benjamin, call me Ben. Benjamin sounds far too formal." he added on as the stared at each other. 

"I'm Peter." Ben nodded. "Thats a nice name." 

It went quiet again, the cold air on Peter's face was making his ears flush red. "You got somewhere to go tonight, Pete? Or are you just.. wandering around?" 

Peter hesitated. "Just.. walking." 

Ben nodded as if that made sense. "Alright, walking is good. Clears the head, just next time pick better streets, okay?" 

Before Peter could answer, someone stumbled into the alley from the other end. A Man, with uneven steps walked closer and closer towards them that made Ben look uneasy. 

As soon as the man was across them he lifted a small pistol at the two. "Anything valuable in your pockets. Out." 

Peter felt his face go pale, his stomach turning itself into knots as fear took fear. 

"Ben- I didn't, my wallets at home-" 

"Calm down, Peter." Ben tried to comfort him before he turned his head to the man. 

"Just let us go, alright? We don't have anything with us. I swear, we won't even call the cops." 

Peter was frozen, heart was slamming against his ribs. 

"I know you're lying. Just look at what fancy clothes that kid is wearing, I swear to god if you don-" 

Peter bit at his lip, hard. Every instinct was telling him that it was danger and that he should run, but he was frozen and there was a- gun and he couldn't just leave Ben by himself. 

"Hey, man. Just calm down. We don't want to fight just let us go. I swear we don't anything on us." 

It felt like he was underwater. 

"Well, if your not going to.." 

The man's finger jerked, Ben's eyes went wide and Peter's ears split apart by the sound. 

Ben fell to the floor, the man running from the scene as Peter crouched beside the man applying pressure to the wound, blood was- so much blood. 

The world was spinning, he had to call the cops, someone- 

"Hey." Ben whispered. "You okay?" 

Peter's throat locked. "You- You're-" 

Ben smiled weak but gentle. "Everyone dies, eventually, Peter. Just.. calm down." 

Peter shook his head violently, his hands never stopping from applying pressure, his vision growing blurry. 

"Don't talk, just stay awake. God please stay awake-" Peter said quickly, his voice was breaking. "Just stay still- still, I'll call an ambulance or something anything-" 

Ben's hand gripped at his sleeve. "Listen." his breath hitched. "You're.. you're a good kid, Peter. Use your goodness for good. I can see-, use it for something good. You hear me?" 

Peter shook his head again, eyes burning. "Please, don't- please." 

But Ben's breath eventually became weaker as time went on, and Peter could feel- he could hear Ben's heartbeat going away. 

All he could hear was the echo of Ben's voice and words. 

"Use it for something good, you hear me?" 

He sat there until the cops eventually arrived, until someone pulled him away from the mess. 

Peter didn't even know when he ended up at the police station. 

It happened so fast. 

How could something like that happen so fast? 

The police station smelled like coffee. Too bright, too clean. It somehow made Peter feel even dirtier. 

Peter sat still, hands clasped together watching the way blood was drying long the creases of his skin. It looked darker now, almost brown in some spots, crusted beneath his fingernails. He tried to get it off earlier, but it didn't work it was still- Ben's blood was still on him, he died because of- 

Peter breathed. 

He wondered if it would ever come off.

Someone said something to him, he doesn't know what, he didn't really catch it. Peter just nodded, a small automatic move. His brain felt static. 

Then the door opened. Loudly.

Peter didn't look up, but he knew whose voice it was instantly. 

"Where is he? Who thought it would be a wise idea to let him give a statement without a legal guardian present-"

Sharp, familiar, angry. 

His dad. 

Peter blinked, slowly, staring at his Dad who stared right back, eyes wide. 

When Tony saw him he stopped shouting, just stopped. It was like he never knew what to say when he saw Peter. 

Peter didn't know what to say either, he knew he looked like a mess. "I didn't call you." He managed to let out, his voice embarrassingly raw. 

"I know," His dad said, moving closer. "They did." 

Peter nodded once. "Someone died." 

He wasn't sure why he said it out loud, maybe because now it seemed more real. 

Tony crouched in front him, searching his face. "Are you hurt?" 

Peter looked back at his hands again, they were shaking. He shook his head. "I'm not the one who.. got hurt." 

His dad follow his gaze staring at his hands, and sleeves that were covered in blood. "Is that-" The rest of the sentence died somewhere between panic and realization. 

"It's not mine." The teen whispered. 

"I know." 

There was movement beside them, Rhodey was talking to officers, also looking disturbed in a way. Peter barely caught what he was saying just that he heard his name mentioned a few times. 

He could feel his dad staring him at him, but he wasn't touching him. At all. 

Peter didn't move, didn't even look up. 

His chest felt tight, but empty at the same time, like everything that had just happened was trying to catch up to him. 

Ben's voice was echoing over and over in his head. "Use it for something good." 

Peter had powers, and with those powers came responsibility. 

He couldn't let something like that happen again. 

Not because of him. 

Tony finally managed to say something after Rhodey walked over to them. "Let's get home kid." 

Peter nodded again, his throat was aching, but no sound came out. 

The air outside the station felt colder than before.

Peter had powers, and he should use them for good. 

Chapter Text

The morning light made everything look normal, like yesterday never happened. 

The kitchen smelled of coffee and toast, the hum of Morgan's cartoon in the living room could be heard. Pepper already walked past him with a look of pity and empathy in her eyes, rushing to get to work on a call with someone. Tony and Rhodey were discussing something while Harley obviously was trying to eavesdrop at what they were talking about. 

It was normal, in a way. And Peter hated the way he was the odd one out again. 

He feit sticky. 

Peter sat the counter, clean hoodie, clean jeans. His hair was still damp from the shower, the third since yesterday. The teen stayed under the water until it went cold, until his skin felt raw, until he felt like he was going to die from the harsh cold water. Still didn't feel clean. The smell of iron clung to him, his hands were shaking the whole night even after he bolted into his bedroom ignoring whatever his Dad was going to say. 

Ben's voice was buzzing in his ears. 

Peter swallowed hard, staring at the toast on his plate that went cold. 

Harley was on his phone, scrolling through his phone trying not to stare. Rhodey was busy with Morgan but Peter could feel even him staring at him. 

The only one who was practically avoiding his gaze was Tony. 

So, everyone knew. 

Peter tried to think of something else, anything else. He clenched his jaw as he forced the food into his mouth, ignoring the way it made himself more nauseous. 

Ben is dead. Ben is dead. Ben is dead. Ben is dead.

Someone died because of- 

"Peter?" Peter snapped back to reality, staring at his Dad, his eyes a bit wide eyed. 

"I asked if you were alright? I'm gonna call the school and let them know that-" Peter shook his head, letting out a breath before interrupting the man. 

"No. Don't do that, I'm going. I finished eating anyway. Happy is already parked outside, right?" He felt six pairs of eyes staring right at him, all of them in a different expression. 

"Pete, I don't think it would be a good idea to go back to school when just yesterday.. well, you know." Harley attempted but his sentence died at the end, he quickly stared back at his phone awkwardly. 

"What Harley means, Peter. Is that something extremely traumatic happened yesterday with you and.." Rhodey told and Peter bit his lip, his dad wasn't even staring at him. 

"I'm fine. Why is everyone being so dramatic? I'll be fine. I'll get.. over it." Peter shrugged, pretending that it wasn't a big deal. 

He knew it was a big deal. 

Someone died, because of him. 

"Pete," His dad suddenly spoke up, still avoiding his gaze. "It's just, we all think it would be better for you to rest, today. You know? What happened yesterday was a big deal." 

"I just don't know what to do with him." 

Peter didn't even try to reply to his Dad, he got up without warning took his bag and started to walk towards the elevator.

"Peter!"

He didn't look back, he put his earphones in his ears, pushed a button and exhaled as the elevator started to move.

Peter didn't even try to acknowledge Happy's look. He gave him usual greeting, sat down at his seat and stared outside the window.

Peter's phone buzzed and he opened his phone.

Harry: I just arrived

Harry: You didn't lie, Stark Junior

Harry: I really should've brought bug spray with me, I just managed to escape this guy that names himself flash??

Harry: Mate did his parents actually call him flash.

Peter: No, his actual name is Eugene

Peter: also stop calling me stark junior :(

Peter: His dad probably found out your joining the school thats probs why he walked over to you already

Harry: This guy is annoying    Seen 7:53 am

Peter shut his phone when Harley sat down in the car.  

Peter didn't remember when the car rides were so quiet, he never saw Harley not talk their ears off.

By the time Peter made it to lunch, he was sure he was dying. If he didn't think about what happened the last few days, he'll be fine, he will be. It's just that it keeps repeating over and over in his head, the gun shot, his Dad and Ned was staring at him weirdly, great. 

Peter sighed, if he just didn't think about Ben, or his Dad, or the blood he couldn't get out no matter how much he scrubbed because in a way it'll always stay there.

He could almost pass for fine. 

Almost. 

He sat across from MJ and Ned, poking at his food he wasn't eating, while they were arguing about something. Well not really arguing because in a way MJ was always right it scared him sometimes the way she could read him by just glancing at him once. 

"Hey," Ned suddenly said, nudging him. "You good man? You look like you fought a raccoon and lost." 

"Yeah." Peter said automatically. "I'm fine." 

MJ raised an eyebrow. "Liar. What happened? Ned says you haven't responded to any of his texts since Friday. Is there something you're hiding, Peter?" 

Peter clenched his jaw. "No, I was just busy." 

MJ stared at him for one second, then two, then three. "You suck at lying, Peter." 

Peter managed a weak smile. 

Peter exhaled through his nose and was about to ask the two if any of them finished the chem worksheet. When a voice, a very familiar annoying British voice spoke behind him. 

"Thought I'd find you here, mate." 

Peter froze mid bite. 

Is he stupid? He knew Harry was here, they literally texted not even a few hours ago. 

He turned slowly. 

Harry freaking Osborn stood there, looking way too comfortable for someone who just moved continents and transferred here. Same perfect hair, same smirk, the one that said it was going to make Peter's life significantly harder. The only difference was that he smelled nice and not the cigarette smell Peter had smelled a few days ago. 

MJ looked confused and blinked. "You know this- you know him?" 

Harry the asshole, grinned. "Of course he does. We go way back. How it's been, Pete? Three days?" 

Peter groaned, he was far too exhausted for this. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Good day, to you too, young fella." Harry said cheerfully, sliding into the empty seat next to him like it was owned by him. 

"Never call me that again." Peter said as he rolled his eyes. 

"Didn't think you'd mind a bit of company, Pete." Harry said a grin still wide on his face. 

"I do mind actually." Peter muttered. "Deeply." 

Ned looked between them, eyes wide and confused. "Peter you know.. you know Harry Osborn?" The way Ned said Osborn made Harry smirk as he stared at Peter. 

"Unfortunately, I do." 

"Aw, don't make it sound like that." Harry teased. "You make it sound like I followed you here, Peter." 

MJ crossed her arms. "Well, did you follow him?" 

Harry smiled, that irritating far to smooth smile. "Coincidence. My dear old Dad thought it'd be a 'humbling experience'" He made air quotes with his hands. "So he ordered my presence back into the US and shipped me right into this building filled with commoners." 

The girl snorted. "Aren't you charming." 

"Thank you. I try my best." 

Peter leaned back into his chair, trying to suppress his yawn, his hair was messy, he didn't care to brush it this morning and he was ignoring the way Harry was staring at him. 

"You really shouldn't."

Harry shot him a grin. "You're just jealous. I'm the best thing to happen to this school since.. well, ever." 

"Yeah." Peter said flatly. "The bar is pretty low." 

Ned elbowed Peter, whispering. "You met him three days ago?  Does your Dad even know that your-" 

"Longest three days of my life, Ned." He muttered, and that was the truth. Those last three days were hell on earth. 

Harry glanced at him sideways, grin faltering just slightly, like he caught something in Peter's tone that didn't match the words. 

"So," Harry said leaning in. "you gonna introduce me to your friends? Or are you keeping them to yourself?" 

MJ gave Peter a look that simply said, you've got some explaining to do. 

Peter sighed. "Fine, this is Ned and MJ. Guys this is Harry. Apparently in his free time he practices smoking to piss off his Dad but well.. he sucks at doing it." 

Harry looked offended. "You caught me at a bad moment, Peter! That's not something I actually do during my free time." 

"Yes I'm well aware that you act as the dog of the Queen of England. Be careful not to go near him, or else he'll bite." 

Ned let out a laugh quickly slapping a hand over his mouth while MJ just smiled. 

"First of all- fuck you too, Peter. Second of all I only bite when provoked thank you very much." 

MJ had a blank look on her face as she deadpanned. "Good to know." 

. "How about you transfer to a posh English boarding school, Harry?" Peter told him with a small smile pressed on his lips. 

Harry smirked. "Nope. I'm afraid that I cannot do that. You are stuck with me, Stark Junior." 

Peter froze as he mentally face palmed himself.

MJ frowned while Ned winced. "Stark?" 

Peter blinked, heartbeat stuttering, the air suddenly felt heavier. 

It's not like he didn't want MJ to know, he just didn't want anyone to know he was Tony Stark's kid- that was.. that was Harley's title and to be fair Harley looked more like his biological mother while Peter...

Peter doesn't think he would handle it if people at school started to tell him he looked like his Dad as well. 

"Oh, Tony is this your son?" One of the men asked his Dad while he was standing next to Harley trying to ignore how the man was practically pointing at him. 

Tony was well.. Peter could never read his Dad well. "Yes, that's Peter. My second son." 

"He looks just like you, Tony. It's like traveling back to the good old times. You got nothing from your mother, huh boy?" 

"Peter?" Suddenly Peter snapped back to reality again staring at the three who were staring at him. 

"Yeah?" MJ was frowning again, and Peter could feel Harry's eyes on him as well. 

"You okay, man?" Ned asked obviously worried. 

"Yeah I'm fine." 

Peter's fine. 

Ben's voice was echoing in his mind.  "Use it for something good, you hear me?" 

That's when the idea popped into his mind. 

Chapter Text

By the end of the week, Peter had made his decision. 

He did try to act like everything was normal, tried to avoid the odd looks Harry, MJ and ned would give him and he was avoiding his Dad at all cost. Peter was avoiding everyone in a way and it wasn't hard to do it either, he knew about Accords and the way Steve stopped forcing him to join them for dinner because frankly, Steve wasn't there. 

Peter didn't know what happened just that it was hard core with the way his Dad was looking. 

The teen was exhausted, he couldn't sleep well either, every time Peter closed his eyes he saw Ben again, the way the smell of blood clung into his nose, the way his hands were shaking and the way he woke up if he did sleep. 

The gunshot was still buzzing in his ears. 

Peter felt the weight of doing nothing heavily on his shoulders, because he could've done something, anything. Peter had powers, he knew he had some kind of super strength he could freaking climb on the ceiling as well, but when that man was trying to rob them he froze. 

Peter was scared. 

So, he made a promise too himself, one he didn't say out loud because it was secret and it going to stay that way, he won't tell anyone not even his friends because they suck at lying. 

Well Ned and Harry do, MJ wouldn't tell a soul but it wouldn't be fair to tell her and not the other two. 

Peter knew, deep down he knew, maybe from the day he woke up with powers he knew but in denial. 

He was going to become someone far bigger than just Tony Stark's kid, or the weird geek in the class.

A superhero. 

A real one. 

Because he knew, if on that night, if he was just slightly faster if he actually did something- then no one would have died. 

Ben wouldn't have had to die. 

He couldn't change the fact that Ben was dead, but he could make sure nothing like that ever happened again, he would make sure no one would die for him again.

He'd never let anyone die for him again.

No one.

Ever. 

Peter managed to find a room no one has used in ages, and he managed to hide that room as well. It became his secret lab, only took him a few hours of wandering around in the Tower to find it. It was two floors below the intern and employee labs. 

No one came down here, which made it perfect. 

Peter sat cross legged on the floor on his secret lab, still wearing the same hoodie from yesterday, his hair messy like some crazy old scientist and far to many snacks on the table that was somehow left in the room. 

He took out his phone, and put it on the table before he hit record. 

Peter squinted at the screen before he spoke. "Wassup. It's-" He glanced at the phone his eyes a bit wide. "Two am, I really need to sort out my priorities." 

He shifted the camera closer. "So, I was thinking if, well.. I'm gonna do this superhero thing right? I need a name."

Peter looked thoughtful for a second, then shrugged. "I can't just be that one Stark kid that can crawl around walls and weirdly enough stick to them." 

Peter sighed. "Why am I doing this. I'm not even gonna upload this." 

Peter went to get his notepad from the table holding it up to his phone. "So I've been brainstorming, and yes it's exactly as sad as it sounds."

He read off the first line. "Arachnid Boy or Man, I don't really care they both sound like bad superhero names from an 80s comic so hard pass." 

Next one: "Crawler.. how did I even think of that one? That's even worse." 

He flipped the page. "Bug Man? Maybe I really do need to sleep more. That's disgusting which civilian is gonna yell out "oh help me Bug man!" yeah no ones saying that." 

Peter groaned, rubbing his face. "I suck at this, they're all so bad. Harley would've had ten names by now and Dad would've probably freaking trademarked every single one." 

He stared at the notepad. "Well fine, we'll continue on with the powers then I guess." 

Peter took his pencil and started writing "Enhanced strength, check. Flying- nope unfortunately not. Enhanced seeing hearing and feeling. Sticking to walls check. Invisible no. Enhanced metabolism check. Enhanced healing also check. Figured that one rather quick." 

The teen stared at the enhanced healing on the notepad a tad bit longer before staring at his wrist that was, smooth. Like whatever he did the last few days when he felt even worse never happened. 

Peter shut his eyes and shook his head. "Not now, Peter." 

The brunette stared at the ceiling tossing the notepad aside. "My powers are spider themed in a way. So think Peter, think. Spider's have webs don't they.. maybe I'll.." 

Another light pub arrived in Peter's head. 

Webs. 

He'll figure that one out after he has a hero name. 

"Okay think Peter. You climb walls, you can stick to them, and you're oddly fast. Also you have a six pack, now." He doesn't know how to explain that the next time he has to change in front of Ned when they have PE. 

He frowned. "SpiderPerson? No that sound's like something Morgan would call someone during halloween." 

Peter drummed his fingers at the desk staring at the camera. He doesn't even know why he's filming, maybe to proof something one day. 

"Spider.. something. Spider.. spider.. Spider-man?" 

He tried the words again out loud. "Spider-man?" 

Peter stared at the camera and grinned, just a little. "Okay, that one doesn't sound completely terrible." 

When he tried to walk closer something was on the floor and Peter fell right on his face. 

Peter fell to the floor with a loud yelp, vanishing from the frame.

Great, just great. 

A muffelnd. "I'm fine!" came from outside the camera frame. 

The phone kept recording, and Peter let out a yawn, he was tired. 

A growl arrived from stomach. 

And hungry, again. 

"Okay." he muttered, voice a bit softer this time. "Spider-man needs better equipment." 

Click, the screen went black. 

By the time Peter had finally left the room, it was past three in the morning. 

His hoodie smelled faintly of burnt metal and dust and a tad bit of the cologne he always used, his hands were still shaking because he thought it'd be a good idea to crawl around the ceiling before he actually left the room.

He was starving. 

And exhausted, of course. 

But mostly starving even though he took tons of snacks with him but these powers just made him so damn- 

Growl.

Hungry.

The Tower was quiet when he slipped back into the penthouse, lights dimmed to a soft gold glow along the floor. Morgan's favorite stuffed unicorn was somewhere on the floor and the TV was frozen on some cartoon menu screen. 

In a way even the air felt like it was asleep, and Peter was gonna die if he wasn't gonna get that sleep or food any time soon. 

The soft lights along the floor hummed under his bare feet, as he made his way to the kitchen. The city glistered beyond the windows, all blurred lights and dark glass. 

He was halfway through his first bite, when the universe really managed to tell him that it actually truly did hate him, no scratch that it loathed him.

Good old Peter luck. 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

Peter jumped up hard enough to nearly drop the fork he was holding. He turned and there he was- his Dad. Tony who's been avoiding Peter for days now, and quite frankly Peter did the same. 

His Dad was standing in the doorway, half shadowed, hair wild similar to Peter's and T-shirt smudged with grease from his workshop he just came up from. 

"Jesus, Dad." Peter muttered clutching at his chest. "You can't just appear like that. There should be laws to sneaking up to people." 

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure sneaking around at home at three am in the morning falls onto the same category, Pete." 

Peter shrugged looking down at his food. "I got hungry."

Tony crossed the kitchen, heading for the coffee machine. "At three in the morning?" 

"Midnight snack." Peter said around a mouthful. "Just really late into the midnight." 

The coffee machine hissed into life, filling the silence with its soft whirring. 

Tony leaned against the counter across from him, crossing his arms. "What were you doing up, anyway?"

Peter froze for half a second. He felt the question like a- jab, too close and too sharp. 

The teen forced a shrug. "I couldn't sleep." 

His Dad studied him over the rim of his coffee mug. "You couldn't sleep, or you didn't want to?" 

Peter's fork stilled. "Does it matter?" 

"Yeah," Tony said quietly. "It kind of does, Peter." 

Peter sighed looking around the kitchen for a few moments before he actually replied to his Dad. 

"Just messing around." He let out. "You know science stuff, for er school." He really needs to work on his lying skills. 

"Science stuff for school?" Tony echoed. "At three am in the morning?"

Peter lifted his chin, defensive. When he and his dad actually manage to talk, it starts into an argument, every single time without fail. 

"Yeah so what? It's not like you haven't done stuff like that either. You practically live your whole life in your lab, dad." It went quiet for a few moments. 

"Where'd Steve go anyway?" 

Tony hesitated, that much was clear and he avoided Peter's eyes when he mentioned Steve. So something did happen. 

Peter stabbed his fork into the leftover pasta he was eating. Trying to sound casually, trying to switch the topic again. "It's fine. I wasn't doing anything well.. dangerous or anything. You don't need to-" 

"Pete," The man interrupted, his voice softer now. He's still not looking at Peter, he never does. "I'm not trying to start anything okay? Just.. what happened last week and well you've been avoiding everyone. We've barely seen you this week and Harley is getting really worried, you know? Pepper to and quite frankly-" 

Peter swallowed hard. "I'm fine. Everything's fine, Dad." 

That somehow landed harder than he wanted too. The air between them felt charged again, full of unspoken words thats been there since.. well ages. 

Tony sighed, rubbed a hand over his face when both for quiet for several moments. 

"Go to bed, kid." 

Peter set his fork down, quietly. "'Night, Dad." 

"Night, Pete." 

His Dad turned to leave, coffee still steaming in his hand. But before he walked out, he hesitated at the doorway, like there was something else he wanted to say but no sound came out. 

Because Tony Stark never knew how to talk to Peter. 

Nothing new, but it always hurt the teen the same. 

The hum of the Tower filled the silence his Dad left behind. 

Chapter Text

Three weeks passed by, before Peter even noticed. 

Days blurred into nights, nights into even longer nights. His secret room somehow managed to become more "home" than his actual bedroom with the time he was spending there. The air was thick with the smell of solder and fabric glue. The walls were lined with scraps of old Stark tech, circuit boards and half dismantled gadgets.

Peter figured out the chemical formula for the web fluid after what felt like thousand failed attempts and a minor explosion. (He still hasn't cleaned off the scorch mark off the ceiling.) 

The superhero suit- superhero suit woah thats so cool- get it together Peter. was coming together too. 

If 'coming together' meant being stitched from a mismatched pajama fabric he bought online with a fake name. It wasn't pretty but it worked, in some way. 

He hadn't talked much to his dad. Or anyone really. Pepper had tried but they were both still awkward with the other after the whole.. 'mom incident', Peter liked to call. Harley well, he would give him some snacks whenever he saw Peter look worse than usual. Morgan once laughed when Peter walked into the kitchen one Saturday with the way he was looking telling Tony that he looked like a zombie. 

If that wasn't worse, it was his friends. Peter could practically feel their eyes every time he walked into the school exhausted. Especially MJ and Harry- speaking of Harry somehow that snobbish brat managed to adopt himself into their friend group. 

Which made Flash furious. 

So when Ned texted him to hang out on Friday, while he was cleaning off the rooms floor after some web fluid fell on it, he thought why not? 

Maybe he needed some normality back into his life. 

Except the second he walked into Ned's room after being greeted by his Lola, he realized that something was off instantly. 

MJ was sitting cross legged on the bed, arms folded. Harry was leaning against the desk, looking entirely too amused for someone not in the joke. Ned.. Ned just looked nervous. 

Great.

Peter stopped in the doorway, stared at all three who stared back at him. "Okay, I'm scared. Why do you all look like you're about to perform a cult ritual and sacrifice me?" 

"It's not a cult ritual, Parker." MJ said. "It's an intervention." 

Peter took a moment to process the words, then blinked. "A what now?" 

Harry smirked. "You've been ghosting us for weeks, mate. You're not looking that well either, I mean.. just take a look at your eye-bags. Thought we'd drive you out of your mad ghosting phase before you actual turn into one." 

Ned bit his lip. "And you've been talking to yourself more. Like, in a creepy way we never understand what you're talking about." 

"I don't talk to myself." Peter said defensively. "Most of the time."

MJ raised an eyebrow. "That's really not helping your case right now, Loser." 

Ned gestured towards the bed. "Just go sit down, man. Please."

Peter sighed, rubbing his hand over his face before actually going to sit down. "This is far too dramatic." 

"Good." MJ said flatly. "Because you've been acting like hermit for several weeks now, with a coffee addiction. Peter, since when do you even drink coffee? You don't reply to texts, you fall asleep in class and-" she gestured at him. "You look like a mess."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Yeah, mate I don't wanna be the one to tell you, but you look horrid." 

Peter crossed his arms. "Okay first off all, rude. Second of all I'm working on something important." 

MJ tilted her head. "So important that you can't, I don't know, eat? Sleep? Function like a normal human being?"

Peter opened his mouth but no sound actually came out. 

Harry's smirk faded. "Seriously though, whatever you're doing. You don't have to do it alone, you know?"

That made Peter pause. 

He looked down at his hands, the smell of iron clinging itself back into his mind again. The noise in his head went quiet.

Peter managed a weak and small smile. "Yeah." he said softly. 

"I kind of do." 

There was a moment of silence after Peter's reply. 

Then Harry ever the master of subtlety, tilted his head and asked. "Dude, are you bent?" 

Peter blinked, once, twice. "What?" 

Ned frowned. "What does that even mean?" 

MJ's brow furrowed. "Yeah, what are you asking him, Osborn? Bent how? Like mentally.. emotionally? Because-" 

Harry groaned, dragging his hand across his face. "No,  Not like that. Bent- you know.." He gestured with his hands vaguely. 

"Gay, or well homosexual or whatever you commoners call it."

It went quiet again, and Peter's eyes widened. "What?"

Harry shrugged, completely unfazed. "You've been acting weird, sneaking off all the time, not talking to anyone. So I kind of figured, that maybe you were figuring things out?"

Peter stammered. "I.. what..? No- I'm not, .. I don't think so? I'm not! Well- maybe? I don't know.. why are we talking about this anyway!"

Ned blinked rapidly, staring at Harry then at Peter. "Is this what the intervention was supposed to be about? Because I thought he was just depressed, er.."

"He is." MJ replied dryly. "We're multitasking now."

Peter threw his hands up. "This is so weird."

Harry leaned forward grinning. "You can come out, if you want to, mate. I won't judge, y'know I'm bi myself."

"I'm not bent- I'm not into guys!"  Peter insisted, cheeks flushing a ridiculous shade of red. "I mean I don't think so- I never thought about it.. you guys know im literally into L-" 

MJ raised an eyebrow interrupting him like she wanted an answer now. "Well are you?" 

Peter stared at her. "You actually want me to answer like, right now?"

"Yes." MJ said. "We're killing two emanational birds with one uncomfortable stone."

Ned looked at Harry then at MJ who were both staring at Peter. "I feel like I shouldn't be here." 

"Then leave." Harry answered cheerfully. 

"It's my room you're all in!" 

"No!" Peter snapped, glaring at every single person in the room. "No one is leaving! We're not doing this- this isn't even the topic of the intervention you're doing!" 

Harry smirked. "So you admit that it's an intervention." 

Peter groaned into his hands. "I hate all of you." 

Ned patted his back sympathetically. "We love you too, man. Homo or no homo." 

Harry let out a chuckle while Peter just exhaled. "Ned never say that again." 

"You know Stark Junior-" Harry's sentence died with him when he realized he mentioned the Stark. 

The room went quiet again and Peter mentally screamed. Ned looked nervous. 

"Why do you call him Stark Junior?" Another look at the three boys. "And why do you guys look nervous when he does?" 

Harry froze mid laugh. "Oh.. bollocks, er.." 

Ned slapped a hand at his face. "Dude."

Peter groaned, again. "Harry."

"You know I find it really weird that you didn't tell- haven't told her, she's like- well you know what I mean, mate." Harry cringed and quite frankly so did Peter.

MJ's eyes narrowed. "Know what, exactly?" 

Ned let out a nervous laugh that really sounded more like a panicked yelp. "So, MJ- funny story.." 

Peter shook his head, cutting him off. "Don't, just don't."

MJ turned slowly to Peter, squinted her eyes and looked at him for two minutes straight before she opened her mouth. "Your Tony Stark's kid aren't you?" 

Peter exhaled through his nose. "..Yeah."

"You're Tony Stark's kid, as in the billionaire Avenger Tony Stark?" 

"Uh huh." 

"As in your Dad is IronMan?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, he hated talking about his dad. "Yeah."

MJ blinked at him once, then twice before she flatly spoke up again. "No wonder why you're so weird." 

Ned tried to cough off his laughter. 

Harry, trying to be helpful, added on. "In my defense the only reason I even know he's Stark's kid because ive seen him at galas and like we met a month ago in the evening after he had a proper row with his father. Also in my opinion he's terrible at hiding it, you know.. he's got the same broody face and everything."

Peter pointed at him. "You literally caused this."

Harry grinned. "And I'd do it again, Stark Junior."

Mj folded her arms. "So you've been hiding this fact for how long?" 

Peter muttered. "Well.. since I don't know. Forever? Ned only found out because he saw Pepper and Harley picking me up once and me and Harry met after I stormed off during a fight with my dad." he shrugged.

"Unbelievable." She sat back, shaking her head. "You're the son of Ironman. And you still can't show up to class or practice on time." 

Ned laughed. "Or answer texts." 

Harry added. "Or not look half dead."

"Or sleep." MJ said.

Peter glared at all three of them. "This is starting to sound less like an intervention and more like bullying."

"Friendly concern, more like." Harry said, smiling cheerfully. 

Peter sighed, leaning back into the bed. "You guys are the worst." 

"And you love us anyway."

It was late when Peter made it back to the Tower, he looked at the time, 9:58 pm. Peter exhaled, he was exhausted, he was going to eat and then throw himself into bed.

All he wanted was five minutes of peace. 

The elevator opened with a soft ding, and FRIDAY greeting him back. He made his way to the kitchen.

The lights were on, and of course he heard his Dad's soft chuckle with Harley telling him something.

Harley sat on the counter spooning ice cream straight from the tub. Tony was making himself coffee as usual. 

Peter stepped inside anyway, not caring about whatever they were talking about. "Hey." Peter greeted. 

"Hello, Pete." Harley said with a half smile. "We were starting to think you got kidnapped or something." 

"I was over at a friend's place." Peter muttered heading to the fridge. 

His dad didn't even look up. "Friends, huh? You mean the ones where you vanish for hours and forget to tell us?" 

Peter shut the fridge door a bit harder than necessary. "I texted."

"Right," Tony said dryly. "One word replies every time I do try to text you. You truly are nailing this communication thing, Pete."

Harley looked between the two, spoon halfway to his mouth. "Er. Are you guys gonna argue again because you've been doing that a lot recently and-" 

"Stay out it." both Starks said in unison and Peter tried his best not to glare at his Dad. 

Peter sighed, grabbing a snack bar from the counter. "I'm not doing this right now." 

Tony turned, arms crossed. "Doing what? Talking? God forbid." 

Peter shrugged. "You're the one projecting." 

Harley cringed and froze mid bite.

Tony's jaw clenched, his tone was sharp and cooling. "You've been off, Pete. You look like hell- you barely sleep, most of the time we don't see you and don't think Pepper didn't mention that you aren't in your room either. Also you've been secretive as hell. If I didn't know any better-" 

Peter glanced up sharply. "If you didn't know any better what?" 

His Dad hesitated for half a second, then said. "I'd think, that you were doing something stupid. Like drinking or worse." 

The silence that followed was sharp enough to split atoms. 

Harley's spoon clattered onto the tub. "Woah-"

Peter laughed, bitter and cold. "Drugs? Seriously? That's the theory you're going with?" 

Tony didn't back down. "I'm not saying you are, I'm saying-" 

"You are." Peter's voice cracked with anger and something else, disbelief maybe? "You actually think I would do that after everything?" 

His dad set down his mug on the counter a bit too hard. "You're acting like someone who has something to hide! What else am I supposed to think, Peter? Damn it- the last few months you've become so- so-" 

"I'm not you,  Dad." Peter snapped and the man went silent so did Harley who was watching the scene. "I'm not you. I would never- never do that to myself. And it's insulting for you to even think that low of me. I might look like you- but really, my worst fear is turning into you." 

Harley bit his lip nervously. "Peter that was a bit harsh don't you think?" 

Peter stared at his brother in disbelief before shaking his head. "I'm going to sleep." 

"This discussion isn't over, Peter." Were the last words his Dad managed to tell him before the teen stormed off towards his room, quickly shutting the door. 

Peter couldn't sleep as he felt the lump in his throat.

Peter wouldn't cry.

Really, he won't. 

Chapter Text

Saturday mornings were supposed to feel quiet, like the world hit pause just for a few seconds. This Saturday did not have that feeling today, at all. 

The Tower felt thick with tension, with everything they didn't say and everything they did say. The air still hummed with last nights argument that kept replaying in Peter's mind.

Peter sat at the kitchen island, half dressed in a hoodie and sweats, tapping his spoon against the side of the bowl that was full of cereal that was going soggy.

His eyes were on the window, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Today he was gonna go patrolling for the first time, he did the last update on his web shooters a few days ago and they were lying somewhere in his secret room he managed to hide from everyone else, so was his superhero suit. 

The other thing on his mind was his Dad's face yesterday after he blurted things out without meaning too. Tony looked disappointed, also mad of course but he just looked hurt as well. 

Peter felt guilty. 

But he shouldn't have to feel guilty not after his Dad was convinced that he was doing drugs or- drinking or any of that stuff. Peter never knew that his dad thought of him being that low. 

Peter sighed, it was quiet, it was still early and Harley wouldn't wake up for another few hours, Morgan too probably, Pepper apparently went on a business trip. 

So for once he's all by himself. 

At least he thought so. 

"Morning." Peter bit his tongue to not scream out loud. 

The teen didn't look up from his bowl. "Morning." 

The quietness between the two felt far too awkward, like always. 

"Try to act like a Stark for once, Peter." 

"In the last months you've just become so- so-" 

"My worst fear is turning into you, dad." 

"You eating?" Tony asked, nodding at the bowl. 

"Yeah." Peter answered quickly nervously fidgeting around with his spoon. 

His Dad sighed, pulling a chair to sit near Peter who was avoiding to look at him. "Are we gonna talk about what happened last night or are we pretending that it didn't happen at all? Harley's right too you know, we've been arguing a lot more recently.."

"I am voting to pretend that it never happened." 

"Too bad, Pete. We are going to talk."  This wasn't weird at all, no, no it wasn't. 

Peter set the spoon down, still not looking up. "I said stuff I shouldn't have, I guess." 

"So did I." 

Peter scoffed. "Yeah but you are probably used to doing that, though."

Tonys eyebrows twitched. "Careful."

"See? There you go again," Peter said standing up. "I can't say one thing without you freaking out and-"

"I'm trying." His Dad interrupted, his voice quiet but sharp. "I'm trying here, kid."

That stopped Peter, he went silent again, his jaw clenching as he felt knots twisting themselves in his stomach. 

Tony leaned back slightly, watching him.  "I shouldn't have.. I shouldn't have assumed the worst. I admit that. That was on me. But you can't keep doing this, Peter."

"Doing what?" Peter managed to let out, his voice a bit shaky. 

"Shutting us out. In the last few months.. even before- the, well you know. The incident in the, er, alley. You were- you've been shutting us out. All of us." 

Peter managed a small bitter smile on his lips. "Right. I'm the one shutting you out." 

His dad looked confused, it almost made Peter laugh out loud. "What is that supposed to mean, Peter? Look, I get that being a teenager and all that can be hard. I was a teenager once too but you..you can't just disappear for hours or- or storm off every time we argue. You can't be surprised when I make assumptions because quite frankly you are not making it easy for me not to make them!" 

"Are you done now?" Peter asked, fidgeting with his spoon, his mind felt blurry. 

"Peter, what's going on with you, kid?" Peter exhaled through his nose, trying his best to stay calm, just stay calm. His Dad doesn't understand, he never did and never will and Peter would be stupid to even think that his Dad might change in any way or form. 

"Nothings going on. I'm fine." Tony didn't look convinced.

"You're fine, right. Sure, that's why you've been looking like hell for the last few weeks, right? Did something happen at Oscorp because after that field trip you've been acting weird. And I'm not the only who noticed." 

"Maybe it's due to the fact that you only notice me when I screw up, Dad. Maybe it's because the only time we actually talk we don't we just argue. Maybe it's because it's so fucking obvious that you want nothing to do with me." Peter snapped, finally looking at his Dad who just took a deep breath staring at the mug in his hand. 

He wasn't looking at him. 

"That's not true, Peter." His dad shot back, looking obviously annoyed. 

"Dad I see the way your face changes whenever someone says that I look like you."  Tony's face tightened, he opened his mouth and closed it again since no sound came out. 

"It's alright, I don't care anymore- I know that no matter what you won't.." Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. 

"Peter, that's not.." Peter met his father's gaze which made him stop talking. "You know that I love you, right? You-"

"I need fresh air." The teen interrupted and quickly left to his room. 

The cold morning air hit Peter's face instantly. The bag on his back was heavy, inside was his suit alongside food and other things like bandages. 

Peter exhaled. "You can do this." 

The teen walked for about half an hour before he found an empty alley no one was in, he ducked behind a dumpster and started to change into his suit. 

It took longer than he expected. 

Partly because he was nervous. 

Partly because pajama fabric wasn't made for a superhero suit, but it was fine, he'll be alright. 

When he tugged the mask on, the edges were uneven, one lens a tad bit higher than the other. But looking down at himself, the red and blue messy suit, he felt something spark. 

It wasn't perfect. 

But it was enough, and everyone starts somewhere don't they?

He removed any kind of thoughts inside his mind that something to do with his Dad. 

Peter climbed the nearest fire escape, his gloves scarping metal as he pulled higher and higher until he could see the morning spread across the sky line. 

"Alright." he muttered crouching at the edge of the roof. "Spider-Man, it's your official first patrol. Don't die." 

The first web shot missed. 

The second struck, - but barely. 

The third send him swinging off balance into a billboard that was advertising some kind of snack bar. 

"Cool, cool, cool." he muttered peeling himself off. "This is fine, totally. I am getting so good at this." 

By the fourth swing, though, he started to get it. The rhythm of it, the weight shift, the pull of the web line as he soared above the street. 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the noise in his head went away. The guilt, the grief, the envy, the tension.. it all went away.

The city rushed beneath him, alive and sprawling, and full of people who had no idea someone was up there trying to keep them save.

No one called him Stark.

No one compared him to his Dad.

No one looked at him as if he was the problem.

He was just Spider-man.

Peter swung higher, grinning under the mask. "This is the best idea I could have."

Peter's first morning as a superhero went.. well, it went something. 

He'd expected danger, drama maybe even a car chase or two. What he got instead was a mix of confusion, mild embarrassment, and exactly three pigeons to his face. 

The first person he "saved" was an elderly woman whose grocery bags had ripped on the sidewalk. 

"Uh.. ma'am? I've got it!" he called swinging down from a lamppost and sticking the landing surprisingly so well, that he felt pride building up in his body. 

The woman blinked at him, clutching her purse. "You some kind of.. pajama mascot?" Ouch. 

Peter straightened up quickly. "No, er, I'm- well, heh, I'm a superhero, kind of. I'm new, this is uh.. My name is Spider-Man."

She looked him up and down, wrinkled fabric, crooked mask, mismatched gloves. 

"Sure you are, sweetheart." she said, patting his arm. "You need a real job." 

Still, she let him carry her groceries home. 

His second heroic act today, was helping a guy chase down his stolen hotdog cart. The thief hadn't gotten very far before Peter tried to swing after him, .. only to misfire a web and dragging the entire cart back with him. 

"Spider-Man!" Peter called breathless, hauling the cart upright. "Uh. Sorry about the er.. mustard and ketchup, dude.."

The thief who was now webbed up, stared at him covered in ketchup. "What the fuck just happened." 

By the fourth hour, Peter was starting to get the hang of it. 

He stopped a a lost kid from wandering into traffic. Peter helped a tourist find her phone. He even managed to snag a purse snatcher.. mostly by accident, when the guy tripped over Peter's webbing. 

Each time, when he felt like he did something right he grinned under the mask. 

No one knew who he was, yet and somehow that managed to be the best part. 

By noon, he was perched on a rooftop, mask pushed up to his nose, chewing on a protein bar. His arms ached, and his suit kind of smelled like hotdog water. 

He also couldn't stop smiling. 

Because for the first time ever, Peter James Stark felt like he was doing something right in his life. 

By the time the sun was slipping behind the skyline, Peter's adrenaline had faded into a deep, buzzing calm. 

He'd spend the entire day, swinging across half the city, helping whoever he could. Nothing earth shattering, of course but it was still something. 

Now he sat at the edge of a building, staring at the sky, ready to call it a day before pissing off his Dad again. His suit was dirty, so he also had to figure out a way to clean it up, not that it would be hard. 

He almost called it a day. 

Almost. 

Then he heard it, a voice echoing from beneath him. A woman's scream. 

His chest tightened, Peter didn't even think he just moved. 

The sound came from a narrow side street beneath two building, half ridden from the main road. Peter swung down, landed quietly, and peeked around the corner. 

A man was shouting, wild and desperate. A mugging. The woman pressed back against the wall, her eyes blurry with tears. 

For a split second Peter froze. 

It felt like he was back, back to that night. 

Ben's voice flickered in his head, calm, steady and trying to de-escalate the situation before suddenly- BANG 

His pulse spiked and he felt his throat going dry. 

But this time he actually moved. 

"Hey!" he shouted, stepping closer into the alley. "That's not yours, buddy." 

The man turned, startled and Peter was already moving. A web shot from his wrist, sticking the guys hand to the wall before he could bolt. 

"What the-?" 

"Nice to meet you, two. I'm Spider-Man, a new superhero in the city and all that.." Peter said, trying to sound casual but his heart was hammering. "You know, the kinda guy who stops idiots like you ruining other peoples days and lives." 

The mugger struggled against the web, cursing under his breath before staring right back at Peter. "Who even are you?" 

Peter shot another web, this time to the guy's feet sticking him into the pavement. "Are you deaf now, dude? I told you, my name's Spider-Man."

The woman was shaking, eyes darting from the man to Peter. "Thank.. thank you so much. He- he had a knife." 

Peter blinked, breath catching. He hadn't even seen the knife. 

He nodded quickly, bringing a note and writing something on it before giving it to the woman. "You're, er safe now. You should uh- call the cops and give a statement. You can give them this note and tell them Spider-man sent you." 

She smiled weakly, staring at the note then at Peter. "Spider-Man." she repeated like testing the word. "Thank you." 

Peter gave her a small awkward wave and then shot a web up to the nearest rooftop. 

Only when he was far above the city, did he realize. 

It hit him slowly. 

The feeling of relief. 

The weight of it. 

He'd actually saved someone. 

Chapter Text

The next month blurred together. 

He didn't really notice the days anymore, it became a routine. Just hours between patrol that he would start after school, then come home for dinner and after everyone would be asleep sneak out of the Tower and patrol for a few more hours coming back home at three am in the morning. 

Mornings were a blur of cold showers to wake himself up and half eaten toast. Days were spent half awake and half dead at school pretending he didn't notice the throbbing on his ribs or anywhere else where bruises were on his body. Nights were peaceful breaks on rooftops, swinging around, sirens, bruises. 

Peter told himself he was fine, he'd been saying that for weeks and he is fine. 

His friends though didn't buy it when he reassured them he was. 

MJ kept watching him like a puzzle she couldn't solve with the way he was looking. Ned stared at him nervously and kept offering him snacks for no reason. Harry, of all people, kept staring at him with the same worried glance as the other two that just made him annoyed. 

At home, it wasn't much different, it was already tense because of the past arguments and the whole Rogue Avengers thing going on. 

Harley looked at him like you look at car crashes in the morning. Pepper asked if he was eating because he was losing weight and it was obvious he was, Morgan kept throwing tantrums asking why he wasn't playing with her anymore. 

His dad didn't really.. ask anything. 

He was around, yes, but not there, too busy with whatever was going on. They'd pass each other in the kitchen or in the elevator, and the air would fill with unspoken tension. Tony would open his mouth to speak and Peter would interrupt him with an awkward smile on his lips alongside a shrug. 

"I'm fine, Dad." he would say ignoring the way his ribs were aching. 

And that was the problem wasn't it? Because every time he saw his Dad hesitating or the way Pepper looking at him worryingly whenever they eat dinner together, the fact that even Harley noticed made Peter feel a tad bit guilty. 

But he couldn't tell them, because his dad would make him stop and he couldn't let that happen, not when he saw how he- how Spider-Man was helping other people. 

Saving them. 

That part killed the feeling of guilt quickly. 

The city was safer. People smiled when they saw him now. 

And if that meant ignoring the fact that he left three clubs, or the way his hands would shake after a panic attack, or the fact that he couldn't remember the last time where he slept more than four hours.. well that was fine. 

It had to be fine. 

Peter promised himself, that he wouldn't let anyone else die because of him. 

If that meant tearing himself apart in the process then so be it. 

Lunch at Midtown was loud, the kind of loud that gave Peter migraines. 

Peter sat slouched at the table, trying to convince himself that if he stared hard enough at his sandwich it would stop existing. 

He was also half asleep, trying to stay awake. He should really start to drink energy drinks or something. 

"Alright, sleeping beauty- not sure if I can call you that with the way you're looking right now, mate but whatever." Harry said dropping sitting down next to Peter so fast it almost made the teen flinch. 

"I've got big news, well not really. But I'm sure it's gonna be good news for you three." 

MJ didn't look up from her sketchbook. "Did you finally get expelled?" 

"Better," Harry said leaning forward, grinning. "I got invited to a party, you know." 

Ned perked up. "Nice. Who's throwing it?" 

Harry snapped his fingers, squinting. "Uh- what's her name? She's all smiley and.. I think she's the captain of whatever team you guys are.." 

"Liz Toomes," Peter said before he could help himself. 

Harry pointed at him triumphantly. "Thats the one! Liz. She's throwing a party next Friday or Saturday, I think? Anyways there's a pool her parents aren't home and all that jazz. Also she told me I could bring whoever I wanted." 

MJ raised an eyebrow. "So, naturally, you thought of us. Because we're the biggest party people you know of." 

Harry grinned at the sarcasm. "Exactly, MJ. We are the dream team, like the golden trio from Harry Potter, just that we're four people. You know we're going to be the coolest people there, me you, Ned and Peter." 

He stopped for a minute. "Yeah not the coolest people since you guys are total geeks but you get the point." 

Peter blinked, startled. "Wait what do I have to do with this, because I'm not going." 

Ned frowned. "Why not?" 

Harry's head turned, he stared at him for a full five seconds before saying. "Oh you're going." 

Peter stared right back, obviously annoyed. "Why?" 

Harry smiled, cheerfully. "Well, mate. You've been looking horribly depressed since well... forever. I personally think a party would be able to lift your mood a bit. I mean it's in your genes, dude. You know how much your Dad partied around in your age?" 

MJ nodded which made Peter stare at her in disbelief. "You too?" 

Peter looked at Ned, with a look that was begging at least someone to be on his side. 

"Sorry, Peter. I think Harry's right you haven't been looking the best the last few weeks.. and the one throwing it is Liz- you've been drooling for her since ages, dude."

Harry's grin widened like a sharks. "But..but.." 

"Pshhht..darling. Don't make it harder than it's supposed to be. You're going whether you want to or not. Live a little, Pete." Peter was going to punch Harry one day, just one day he will punch the fuc- 

"Look on the bright side, Peter! Dude I can finally wear my party hat!" 

Harry's grin went away instantly. "You have a what?" 

Ned just smiled. "My party hat." 

Harry stared at Ned then at Peter. "Yeah well, If you guys want people to actually talk to you guys, maybe act a bit less like yourselves." 

The teen gave Harry a fake smile. "Fuck you, too then." 

"I will do that gladly, Stark Junior." 

When the bell rang, Peter was sure he was going to collapse. He sighed and grabbed his tray, getting up and walking to the door. 

When something slammed against his ankle. 

His world tilted and for a second he thought he passed out or something, the next second he fell to the floor, the food still on the tray made a mess as it fell with Peter. 

"Careful there, Parker!" 

Flash Thompson. Calm down, Peter, calm down. Flash was grinning like he had just won a cash prize. His friends were snickering behind him one of them filming the whole thing. 

Peter blinked, swallowed hard and stared at Flash. "Real mature, Flash." 

Harry frowned while Ned was helping Peter get up, as MJ glared at the boy. 

"Seriously? You lot are just childish, dude." Harry told them as he stepped forward.

Flash shrugged. "Hey, it's not my fault Penis can't stay on his feet." 

Peter's jaw clenched, as he got up dusting his jeans as he tried to ignore Flash and his minions and whatever they were saying. 

Peter didn't care.

He didn't. 

"Don't call me that." Peter muttered. 

"Ooh did I touch a nerve there, Orphan boy?" Flash leaned forward, voice rising as more people came to watch. But in a way he saw how Peter's face fell when he said the word orphan.

"Relax, Parker. I'm just saying.. what is it like with no mom.. no dad? Just you. Guess something really must've gone in your past life to end up like this."

Harry properly saw how Peter was glaring at Flash now. "Dude-"

But of course Flash wasn't done. He started grinning wider when he saw how many people were watching. 

"Actually," he continued. "maybe they just.. maybe she just got tired of you. I mean look at how weird you are, Parker. If I had a kid like that I would avoid it like the plague and run off too." 

The hallway went silent. 

MJ's glare hardened. 

Peter's head lifted, slowly, and there was something in his eyes that managed to make Flash hesitate. 

"Say that again." Peter said flatly and quietly. 

Flash's smirk twitched, but he pushed on. "What that your parents probably bailed? I bet they were happy when they died because they knew-" 

Flash never got to finish that sentence. 

Peter's fist connected with his face before any more words came out of his mouth. 

A sharp CRACK  echoed in the cafeteria, followed by a yell that came from the boy clutching his nose as blood poured between his fingers.

"Jesus! I'm going to- get you expelled for this Parker!" 

Peter just stood there, quietly he didn't even stare at Flash, who was still swearing under his breath. For a second nobody moved. Then MJ grabbed his arm, yanking him back, while a teacher came rushing towards them. 

"Parker! Thompson! My office now! 

Peter didn't say anything, he just followed down the hall, blood pounding in his ears. 

He could hear Flash's words go over and over in his mind repeating themselves. 

By the time they reached the principals office, Peter knew he was done for, because they were calling his dad. 

Great. 

Principal Morita's office smelled faintly of parchment and coffee. 

Peter sat in the chair outside, head down as he stared at his knuckles. 

Across from him sat Flash with a ton of tissues pressed against his nose, glaring at him as if he didn't start the whole thing. 

"Great job, Parker." Flash spoke thickly through the tissue. "Real heroic."

Peter didn't answer, he stared at the floor in annoyance. He tried not to think about how much trouble he was in.

The door to the Principals office opened, and both boys looked up to see who it was. Flash's father walked in, with similar features as his son, the same smirk that annoyed Peter and everything. 

He tried his best not scoff. 

"Eugene." he said shortly. "Up."

"Hey, Dad." Flash spoke, trying to be casual but his voice somehow managed to be smaller. 

The man's gaze wept from his son to Peter. "This the kid?" 

Flash nodded still holding the tissues. 

Mr. Thompson's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Looks about right." 

Peter's jaw tightened. He said nothing. 

Mr. Morita cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mr. Thompson, thank you so much for coming. We're just waiting for Peter's guardian to arrive so we can discuss-"

"That 'guardian', can come running when he gets the message." Flash's Dad interrupted. "Assuming there even is a guardian around. From what I've heard from Eugene, the kid's basically on his own."

Peter's stomach twisted.

Flash's smirk returned, but smaller this time, hesitant.

"Sir," the principal cut in firmly. "I'd appreciate it, if we kept this professional." 

"Of course," he said mildly, but he didn't look away from Peter. "Still, maybe next time, the teachers- your teachers that you employ, Mr. Morita should keep a closer eye to the ones lashing out. Boys without.. well parents tend to act out for attention." 

Peter's fingers curled into fists in his lap. 

Before he could think of a reply, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. The secretary stood up. 

"Mr. Stark?" 

Peter almost rolled his eyes, his father walked in, sunglasses on, phone in his hand and looking very, very irritated. 

"Sorry, I'm late." Tony said shortly. "Traffic." 

Mr. Thompsons face went white quickly staring at Flash who was just as shocked. 

Peter looked up at him, ribs still aching, and for a split second by staring at each other the tension in the room only grew. 

Mr. Thompson exhaled, folding his arms. "Are you his- that boy's father, Mr. Stark?" 

Tony's jaw flexed. "Last I checked, yes. I was in the room while creating him." 

Peter shut his eyes, trying hard not to cringe and ignoring the way Flash was staring at him. 

"Well," the man said smoothly. "you might want to teach your kid some restraint and maybe how to dress up without looking like a.. well you see how he looks." 

Tony's gaze sharpened but he quickly moved away from that and glanced at Peter. "I'll take care of it." 

"We done here?" 

Mr. Morita nodded. "We'll discuss the consequences tomorrow by phone. Both boys are suspended for two days."

Flash groaned. "What? But-" 

"One word." His father said sharply. "And you'll be grounded for two weeks, Eugene." 

Tony gestured to Peter. "Let's go, Pete." 

"Care to explain what that just was, Peter?" His dad asked once the two were in the car, while Peter just stared outside the window. 

Tony sighed after Peter stayed silent. "What happened, Peter? You never acted out in school before." 

Peter didn't answer he just stared at the reflections of the light against the glass. 

"Look, the kid's dad was an asshole so I bet he isn't that different either but you can't just- punch people, Peter."

"I don't care." Peter muttered. "He deserved it." 

Tony sighed, his hands a bit tighter around the wheel. "What did he do?" 

Peter didn't answer and his Dad's phone buzzed as Black Widow's name appeared when the call came in. 

The rest of the car ride was spend with his Dad talking about something he didn't get before they arrived at the Tower. 

Peter quickly rushed into his room and fell asleep on his bed quickly after. 

Chapter Text

The week blurred together in a haze of exhaustion and adrenalin. Days at school, nights at patrol. 

Eat, swing, crash repeat. 

It was also getting harder and harder to make up excuses and his Dad seemed to struggle with that as well, apparently the Winter Solider did something and Tony was not happy at all. 

Steve also betrayed him, at least thats what his Dad said after he overheard a conversation he had with Pepper, so thats something. 

Peter himself didn't know what sleep even felt like anymore, at least proper sleep. His eyes had that permanent shadow under them that made him look even more like his Dad which just annoyed the piss out of him. 

Flash himself even started avoiding him, but he could hear him curse under his breath every time he saw Peter walk into a room or class he was in. 

Nothing new, then.

Every night, Peter would tell himself the same thing, just one more last swing, one last patrol just to see if anyone is in need of help before he goes home and sometimes he would do that until the sun would rise and he would rush home to make sure no one figured out that he wasn't home.

Now it was Friday. The day of Liz's party.

The one night Peter had promised himself he'd be normal. (not because his friends forced him, of course not..)    No web fluid, no rooftops, no danger. Just him hanging out with his friends for once in his life. He wouldn't even bring his suit with him to the party. 

He ended patrol early today, perching on the edge of a rooftop while the sun dipped below the skyline. His mask pulled up halfway up, and the cool breeze of wind went onto his face as he scrolled on his phone. 

Ned: Dude, you coming tonight? 

MJ: If he isn't, I will make sure to kill him. 

Harry: I second that! 

Peter: Very funny, but yes I am coming. 

Harry: Great! But I dont want to watch you drool over Liz the whole time we're there

Ned: That's like telling him not to watch Star Wars though 

Peter huffed a laugh, a small one and the first one in days. It felt weird in a way, almost like forgetting everything that happened for a small second. 

He swung home quietly, slipping through his secret entry point before heading upstairs. Harley was sprawled on the couch, playing some racing game with Morgan curled up next to him, looking like she's about to fall asleep any time soon. His Dad was nowhere to be seen, though he had been busy the last two weeks. 

That suited Peter fine, they hadn't talked in a while anyway. 

His room somehow managed to look like a war zone, but he ignored it and went to shower, quickly changing his clothes afterwards when his hair was still damp.

Peter stared at the mirror, for a long second. He saw a picture of his Dad wearing a similar shirt when he was his age. Peter frowned, stared at the mirror realized that other people really weren't lying when they said they looked the same. He quickly changed his clothes again. 

By the time he stepped out of his room, Harley stared at him raising an eyebrow. 

"Hey, Pete? Where you going?" 

Peter stopped in his tracks, stared back, the silence between the two was awkward. "A party. I'll be back early though, I doubt I'll stay there long." 

Harley didn't look convinced. "Kay. Don't stay out too late or I'll tell Mom." 

Peter just sighed and rolled his eyes walking over to the elevator. 

The house was already alive when Peter arrived, lights spilling from every window, music pulsing through the air, laughter from the backyard. 

Harry, of course, fit right in while Peter, Ned and MJ looked like complete outsiders. Well, MJ not so much, more like Ned and Peter but whatever. 

MJ and Ned disappeared to the snack corner after he'd told her something. 

Peter meanwhile, hovered near the wall like he was part of the furniture. The noise pressed against him, it far too bright and way too loud. 

"Mate, you look like you're about to bolt." Harry told him, suddenly appearing next to him, two cups in hand. One blue, one red. "Relax, you're supposed to have fun at these kinds of things. It's kind of in your genes, Junior." 

"Don't call me that." Peter shot back, frowning. 

Harry just shrugged and handed him a cup. "Whats in it?" 

Harry smirked. "Liquid courage." 

Peter hesitated, his stomach twisted, guilt flickering in his chest, sharp and familiar. He wasn't supposed to do this. His Dad would lose it if he found out- well would he? Pepper would be disappointed as well. 

But after a second of thought, he didn't care. 

So, he took a sip. 

It burned, sharp and sour. His face scrunched, making Harry laugh. 

"Bloody hell, you drink like a pensioner." Harry said, clapping him on the back. "Come on, loosen up, Pete. You're at a party, not a board meeting." 

Peter rolled his eyes, but he took another sip, then another. Somehow, the constant guilt and that heavy feeling in his chest started to go away slowly. 

He even laughed at something stupid Harry said, really laughed and it startled him. 

Harry grinned, raising his cup. "See? You can have fun, Junior. Who knew?" 

Peter grinned back. "Yeah don't get used to it."

Somehow, somewhere between his third cup and Harry shouting, "You're officially fun now, mate!" Peter stopped thinking. 

The guilt, the noise, the exhaustion, it all blurred into background static. The music vibrated through the walls, and for once, he wasn't thinking about the blood that was on his hands or that he's the reason everything manages to fall apart. 

He was just there. 

But he wasn't really drunk either, can he even get drunk? Should he test that out..? 

"Peter!" someone called from across the room. 

He stared at the person, blinked and then froze. 

Liz Toomes. 

Perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect everything. 

She waved him  over. 

Harry, with Ned beside him, was grinning like the devil himself. "Go get her, Romeo." 

Peter was quiet for a second before he actually started to walk. "You're the worst wingman, ever." 

"Correction, mate." Harry said, raising his cup. "I'm the best." 

Peter walked over, his heart beating a bit too fast, but that might be the alcohol. 

"Hey, er, Liz." He said trying to be casual but immediately cringing. 

She laughed, soft and easy. "Hey, Peter. Didn't really think this was your scene." 

"Yeah, well, me neither." he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Harry kind of dragged me here." 

"Good thing he did." she said, smiling. "You actually look like you're having fun for once. Also I really think Flash had it coming. Honestly, I did not think you had it in you." 

Peter felt his face grow warm, and he smiled. And they talked, about school, about flash, about classes and about practice. 

It felt nice. 

He forgot how Liz made him feel dumb every time she laughed. 

When he finally made it back to his friends, all three of them were staring at him. 

"Didn't know you had it in you, Junior." Harry told him, looking impressed. 

"Shut up." Peter answered. 

But Harry wasn't the only who noticed, people started noticing, a few older kids as well, that Peter was somehow still sober. 

Someone, he wasn't sure who but it sounded like Abe. "Hey! Parker isn't even buzzed yet!" 

"No way, that freshman that punched that other dude last week? Give him another one! I saw the video that was somethin' else!" 

Harry grinned. "You heard them, mate. Time to defend your honor." 

Ned looked a tad bit nervous and MJ also didn't look like she was fond of the idea. "Are you guys sure because.. er.. Peter already drank like three cups." 

"And he's still sober." Harry shot back shrugging. 

Peter groaned staring at Harry, but the grin tugging his lips gave it away. "You're evil." 

"Absolutely." 

So he drank. 

And again.. and again. 

Peter managed to get tipsy, it made the world feel louder, he became slower and the world became fuzzy as well. 

Harry nudged him, laughing, Ned and MJ were already picked up by MJ's dad. "There it is! I know you have it in your genes and all that, mate but even Starks have limits." 

Peter just smirked. "Oh fuck off, Osborn." 

But then someone passed him another cup, and he took a sip. Again. 

And another one. 

At some point, the night stopped feeling real. 

Everything melted together, the laughter, the lights, the pulse of the music, all blurring together. Peter was pretty sure Harry was drunk. 

Because Harry had become emotional. "Y'know.. my mom killed herself on my birthday. So my dear old dad thought it'd be a great idea to just ship me off to England of all places. They have good parties though, I'll give them that." 

Peter just stared at the guy for a few seconds. "Harry, what the fuck?" 

"I know, man. My dad sucks." 

"You think?" He deadpanned. 

Peter had lost track of how many drinks he had, he wasn't drunk like Harry was but he wasn't sober either. Someone kept handing him another as he finished the one in his hands the crowd of drunk teenagers amazed on how he was drinking so much. 

"Peter!" 

It was Liz, her hair caught in the light just right, her smile hazy around the edges. 

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, laughing, close enough for Peter to smell her perfume that smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla. 

"I'm fine," Peter said automatically, though it came out more like a. "'M fine." 

She giggled, the sound bright and warm, and then he didn't remember how, but they were closer. The noise was of the party muffled behind the pounding in his head. Someone was yelling something in the backyard. 

And then she kissed him. 

Or maybe he kissed her. 

Peter doesn't really know who leaned in first. 

Either way, it happened. 

Soft, clumsy, dizzy. A second too long. The kind of kiss that didn't feel real, at least not in the way he imagined kissing would feel. 

When they stopped, the world tilted slightly. She smiled, in a way that made him feel even more dizzy. The room spun again before he got up from the couch and quickly went to help Harry who was outside throwing up his guts. 

"I'm never drinking again." Harry would say before bending over again with Peter comforting him by patting his back. 

"Maybe your dad's gonna smell the liquor on you and get pissed off, dude." Peter tried to joke. 

"Peter, I will-" He quickly stopped talking when he gagged again. 

Then nothing. 

He just knew he somehow managed to come home. 

Threw himself on his bed and went to sleep. 

When he woke up next morning his head was pounding, his phone had several unread messages, his mouth was dry and his jacket smelled like beer and regret. 

Peter sat up slowly, clutching his temple. The memories of last night came in flashes. Harry's grin, Ned and MJ's worried glances, the laughter, the drinking.. the.. 

Liz's voice. 

And then that blurry moment that didn't feel real. 

The kiss. 

Peter groaned softly. "Fuck."

It didn't take long to drag himself out of bed. He didn't even remember how he managed to come home, he didn't bring his web shooters with him yesterday. His jacket was half-on the floor, his shoes were on opposite sides of the bedroom and his phone blinked of tons and tons of unread messages and notifications.

He ignored it, he needed food, and tea maybe coffee, maybe he'll just drink both. 

The walk towards the kitchen felt like a journey to another planet, Peter was exhausted, his head was pounding and he was starving. 

Also everything was far too bright, far too loud and just everything was too much. 

He stepped into the kitchen, yawning, rubbing his eyes. "Morning," 

Silence.

When he looked up, his stomach dropped. 

Pepper, Harley, Rhodey when did his uncle Rhodey come to New York again?? were all sitting at the counter. Morgan was in her chair drawing giggling at the expression their Dad was making. 

Because his dad, was standing, his expression unreadable with a tablet in his hands. 

Everyone was staring at him. 

Harley had that pitiful look on his face that was practically telling Peter to just run away. 

Peter froze. "What?" 

No one answered, which made Peter swallow hard. 

Then Tony flipped the tablet. 

On the screen were multiple headlines. 

"Tony Stark Junior in the making? Continue reading to find out.."

"Tony Stark's mysterious unknown second son caught yesterday in a house party drinking." 

"Who is Peter James Stark's girlfriend?" 

"Tony Stark's second son, Peter James Stark, and Norman Osborn's eldest son, Harold Osborn, caught in a house party, are those friends despite the famous rivalry with Stark Industries and OSCORP?"  

Below those were blurry pictures that were obviously taken by a phone, him, solo cup in hand, Harry by his side obviously grinning. Another picture of him and Liz talking alongside another one where the two were kissing. 

Peter stared at those for a good three minutes. "What." 

"There are about fifty of those floating around right now." Tony said, his voice tight, brittle. "Social media, news outlets- everywhere." 

Pepper added quickly. "We've already put out a statement. Damage control." 

Peter's throat went dry, he didn't know what to say just the deep feeling of shame building itself into his body. 

Harley whistled under his breath. "Damn, Pete. You really went all in, huh?" 

Pepper shot him a look sharp enough to kill which made his older brother shut up quickly. 

"You want to tell me what the hell this is, Peter? Drinking? Harry Osborn- with Harry Osborn of all people!" Rhodey cringed and Harley took that as a sign to leave. 

"I didn't know that they were taking pictures of us-" 

"That doesn't matter to me, Peter! What matters to me is seeing my teenage son in the tabloids for drinking at a house party with the son of none other than Norman Osborn!" 

He swallowed hard. "Tones, maybe try letting Peter explain himself, huh? I mean you weren't that different in his age either-" Rhodey tried but somehow that made it all worse. 

"Yes, Rhodey. I am very much aware of that! I just thought that Peter would be better. I expected of him to be better. He knows how bad that shit is-" 

Morgan looked up confusingly, stopping to draw when she heard her Dad yell. 

"You're grounded. For- until I say you're not. Now go to your room." 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "What? That's not fair-" 

"Oh really? Let me think it through.. hm.. yes.. you're still grounded." Peter's chest went up and down he stared at his dad for two seconds longer before he bolted away to his room. 

He slammed the door shut and locked it. 

"Pete? You okay, dude?" Harley tried after about an hour passed but Peter didn't reply, so eventually Harley left. 

The only thing Peter could think about was the blade that he hid in his bathroom cabinet and how much he wanted to disappear. 

Peter took a deep breath, quickly shaking that thought away and went to sleep on his bed again. 

Chapter Text

The weeks that followed were brutal. 

Not in a physical way, Peter had taken worse hits that hurt like hell, but in that suffocating way where every door seemed to close just a little tighter. 

He was grounded, like actually. 

Happy picked him up every day after school or practice, he was not allowed to go anywhere, and his dad was very close on just taking his phone. 

Tony even checked out his room, every little corner, just to see if he found any kind of alcohol. 

"Dad? This was my first time drinking, I swear there isn't anything inside!" Peter practically yelled mentally panicking inside because he knows all his Spider-man stuff is in his secret lab but sometimes he's too exhausted to hide his suit there. 

"Sure, buddy. If that would be the case you wouldn't mind me checking your room now would it?" Even Pepper didn't even try to argue with him. 

"You should really clean your room." Peter bit his lip nervously when his Dad checked under his bed and found a notebook. 

"What's this?" 

"Er, just.. for school I put all my notes for chem and physics in there--" His Dad threw it away and Peter almost breathed out in relief. 

"Why do you have a lighter?" 

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. "For.. experiments and stuff." 

"Experiments? Are you smoking now as well, Peter?" 

So to say it easily, his Dad practically went crazy. He went from not noticing Peter at all to noticing too much and nothing at the same time.

Peter knew he should've never went to that party. Even Harley got tasked with the trouble of keeping an 'eye' on him.

"Guess you're the bad sheep of the family now, Peter." Harley teased one afternoon as if Peter wasn't that even before the incident. 

His Dad also stopped yelling, him yelling would've been easier. He just looked at Peter now, disappointed. That's the only expression that ever fell onto his face if he looked at him.

When he did talk though, it was sharp and short. 

"You are not going anywhere unsupervised." 

"I might be the bad guy in your eyes for not letting you hang out with your friends, Pete. But there is no way I'm letting you hang out with Osborn's kid." 

Peter tried to argue, but somehow that made it worse. 

Patrolling was harder now as well, he had to hack into FRIDAY'S systems to make sure she wouldn't alert his Dad or anyone when he left the Tower, he also had a tracking watch on his wrist now as well that also tracked his health or if he was hurt. 

Not to mention that Happy was picking him up from school now, speaking of school, everyone found out he was Tony Stark's kid so that made it all even worse. 

The whispers whenever he walked into a class was driving him nuts. 

Harry though, got the worst out of it all. 

"He almost shipped me off again, but get this not England this time. France of all places, Peter. My French sucks." Harry told him one afternoon when they were calling. 

Peter grimaced. "Yikes." 

"He also broke what used to be my Mother's favorite vase in his anger." Harry added on. 

"Double yikes." 

Harry smirked in the camera since they were FaceTiming. "Worth it though, mate. That was one hell of a party. I never drank so much." 

"Yes, Harry. I noticed." 

Every time he talked to his friends, he would feel normal again. 

But then he would pass by his Dad,  and the silence between them said everything. 

The Tower was quiet. 

Too quiet. 

Peter eased his bedroom door shut, holding the handle just long enough to stop it from clicking. He waited for a good two minutes and listened carefully, then he slipped on his backpack over his shoulder and moved down the hall barefoot. 

It was close to midnight, he could hear the quiet breathing of Pepper and Morgan that signaled that they were fast asleep. Harley's room had music faintly humming under the door. And his Dad was in the workshop- watching random videos? That was weird. 

Whatever, perfect. Everyone was distracted in some kind of way. 

Peter crept past the elevator, ignoring the second thoughts flooding his mind, he was just nervous. 

He'd done this enough times to know which steps would make sound and which don't. 

The emergency stairwell door gave an oft metallic groan as he pushed it open. He winced, waited. No one noticed. 

Okay, go on. 

Five minutes later he was outside. The night wind hit him cold and sharp, smelling faintly of rain and city smoke. He pulled off his hoodie and dug it through his backpack once he arrived at the usual alley he changed. 

He took out his suit, the mix of red and blue stitched together multiple times over and over. 

It still wasn't perfect, though he did upgrade his web shooters, and the formula, in chemistry class. He quickly changed and swung to the nearest rooftop. 

Peter smiled as he felt the cold night air on his mask, he felt alive. 

"Alright, New York." he whispered through the mask, voice muffled. 

Then he jumped and swung. 

The wind roared in his ears, as the web line shot from his wrist caught the edge of a billboard. He swung forward, laughter bubbling out of him before he could help it. The cold air stung his cheeks. Every motion felt like freedom. 

The first call of the night was easy. A random guy trying to hotwire a car near the 34th. Peter dropped behind him silently.

"Hey, buddy." he called hanging upside down from the streetlight. "You're doing great work and all, but maybe don't go around stealing peoples cars." 

The guy screamed, then he tripped, and after that he bolted. Peter sighed. 

"Yeah! Sure, just leave the door open! What if other criminals want to rob this car, Mr. Bad guy?" He webbed the car door shut and swung off again. 

The next one was tricker, a fire escape collapse on East 52nd. He pulled two people out  of the way just before the metal came crushing down. 

"Thank you, Spider-Man!" someone shouted, someone actually knew his name.

He grinned back in the mask. "You're welcome, citizen!" 

Peter definitely needed a better line to say back. 

He should've seen it coming. 

Peter had taken taken down the two guys at the jewelry store attempting to rob it, easy, maybe a bit too easy and when he spotted a third one sprinting down the alley with a bag, he didn't even think twice. 

"Hey!" he called, swinging low. "You forgot your-" 

The guy turned, Peter's spidey sense went up the hill, he turned faster than Peter had counted for arm snapping up. Something metal caught the streetlight, maybe a pipe,  and before Peter could twist out of the way it slammed into his ribs. 

Ouch. 

The breath whooshed out of him. He hit the brick wall, vision flaring white for a second. 

"Okay," he gasped, clutching his side. "That was not okay, Mister! Fuck that hurts-"

The man smirked and ran, so Peter forced himself up. He fired a web and yanked the bag out of the robbers hands, only for the guy to turn around and kick him in his chest.

Peter stumbled back again, wheezing.

His chest was burning.

He shot another web to the guys leg, tugged.. too weak, then got another pipe to the shoulder for the effort.

"Seriously?" he muttered ducking away. "Do criminals shop at Gym Rats or something?" 

One more swing and the guy was finally down, he grunted glaring at Peter. 

Peter leaned against a dumpster, next to him, breathing hard. His ribs ached with every inhale, and his mask was damp with sweat. 

"You're welcome." he muttered, wincing when he straightened up. "Seriously, no appreciation anymore, these days.."

He looked down at his chest, the fabric of his suit was torn a little near his ribs, darkening where the hit landed. Not blood, thankfully, but still bruised bad enough for it to hurt and sting.

Yeah, he was done for the night. 

He webbed up a note next to the criminal to when the cops arrived and bolted. 

The swing home, was slower. His arms felt heavy, and every time the web line caught, it tugged painfully across his chest. He landed awkwardly to the exist at the Tower he always sneaks out and into. 

"Smooth." he mumbled, peeling off his mask and quickly went to change in his secret room. 

His breath came shallow and short, he always got hit before but it was never that hard. That was a first, but that proved something, right? 

Still, by morning, it'd be better. It always was, his body healed faster now. It always did. 

The Towers hallways were dark and quiet. His Dad was still in his workshop and if he guessed correctly he was searching something, impatiently. 

The teen made it back to his room without being seen.

He closed the door softly and quickly went into his bathroom. 

Peter took off his clothes staring at the bruises. His chest was a patchwork of bruises the purple already fading into a green tone.

It hurt, but it was fine. 

"Part of the job." Peter muttered to himself as he stepped into the shower.

When he changed into his pajamas, the bruises were still stinging so he got an ice pack from a mini fridge he hid in his closet, (which genius move, he sneaked it in after his Dad checked his room) and he flopped onto his bed, pressing it to his ribs.

The world felt heavy and quiet.

His eyes burned. 

It didn't take long for Peter to drift into sleep. 

Chapter Text

The rain slicked the rooftops of New York, turning everything into a blur of silver and shadow. Peter's mask lenses, well.. the googles adjusted automatically to the dark, his eyes scanning the empty alleys and streets. 

It had been rather quiet today, the sound of the traffic and the hum of the rain comforted Peter in a way he didn't understand. His suit was clinging to his skin, damp and uncomfortable, but he didn't care it gave him time to breathe. 

To think. 

Until the sky lit up with the colors of red and gold and Peter felt his heart drop. 

Peter stiffened automatically, thinking if he should swing away, because he probably should because IronMan was there in the sky, looking at him, and IronMan was Tony Stark and Tony Stark was his father. 

And his Dad had no idea about the whole vigilante thing he had going on. 

So what the fuck was his dad doing here? Not to mention Tony was still pissed off because of the party and him drinking as well as being friends with Harry. 

"Oh no, no, no, no.." he whispered instinctively, the peaceful feeling he had just seconds ago fading and the adrenaline in his body rising. "Why is he, why is he here?" 

Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic-

Tony wouldn't know right? Peter was so cautious and so freaking careful that even MJ hasn't figured it out, and MJ figures everything out before everyone else does so what was his dad doing here. 

Peter shut his eyes, opened them and then quickly rushed for the edge of the rooftop he was at but before he could swing away.

"Spider-Man." Fuck. His Dad's familiar voice spoke up, he and Peter hadn't talked in days. Since Peter was spending his whole day in his room and his Dad being busy with the avengers who went.. well rogue. 

"Is that what they call you?" Peter's heart practically left his body, so after a few awkward moments where it was silent, Peter slowly turned around. 

"Yes, er, Mr- Iron Man, sir? That.. that is me." Peter answered, his voice cracking and him quickly cringing. 

"Are you sure you shouldn't be called Spider-boy, though? You sound pretty young, kid. How old are you? 18? 19?" 

Peter didn't answer that question avoiding his Dad's gaze. "What do you want?" 

Peter could feel Tony's eyes on him. "Well, even though it's obvious.. that you do not have the best tech. You're a pretty hard guy to track down, Spider-Man. You've got quite the reputation you know?" 

Okay, so his Dad didn't realize he was Peter, huh. "Yeah, so?" 

"You've got some pretty impressive skills, if I say so myself." The man said as he got out from his suit. 

Peter tensed up again, biting his lip, his pulse was spiking.

Tony scanned him with his eyes. "I've been keeping tabs on you, the last few days. You've got guts, honestly especially that web formula I assume you have? How do you manage to swing around like that? Does it come out of you? That enhanced strength is also no lie.. you're obviously a mutant."

Peter took a step back, every instinct telling him to leave.

"I'm also not the only who noticed you, by the way." Peter stopped breathing, his breath hitching as he finally looked up.

"What?"

"I said, I'm not the only one who noticed you. SHIELD is probably already planning on doing something to figure out your identity and not to mention the whole.. well Accords situation that I could have fixed if freaking Rogers just-"

Tony let out a breath. "Well you get the point. You basically have a bounty on your head right now. One little mistake and Ross would not mind sending you to the Raft. You're getting pretty popular, especially on YouTube. It's how I found you, by the way." 

His dad's expression was unreadable, well it usually was when he looked at Peter. 

"Okay, I'm pretty sure that you didn't come to just warn me, sir. So, what do you want?" 

Tony gave him a small smile. "How do you feel about me mentoring you for little while? There's something I have to do soon that you'll do perfectly, I imagine. Also you'll have tons of pros, one.. you need an upgrade from.. that onesie." 

"It's not onesie." 

His dad gave him a deadpanned face. "Sure, if thats what you think, kid. Not to mention you'll be far harder to send to the Raft if you do a mistake if you have none other than Tony Stark backing you."

Peter bit his lip, as he thought the whole thing over. It's not like his dad was wrong, and since he hadn't already figured out it was Peter by his voice then maybe he'll just stay masked if he does say yes? 

"Fine. I agree, you can mentor me but.. I don't want you to know my identity." This was the smarter option, right. He just has to be a tad bit more careful. 

Right.

Tony grinned, cheerfully when he spoke up again. "So, how do you feel about Germany?" 

Peter furrowed his brows. "Mr. Stark. I, I er can't go to Germany. I didn't think this also meant going out of the country or well the city-" 

"Why can't you go to Germany?" His Dad asked raising a brow. 

"I've got... homework to do and exams, I'm in.. er college, you know." 

It was silent for a few more seconds. "Homework? That's your excuse?" 

Peter took in a deep breath. "Fine I'll think about it. I'll figure it out in some way-" 

Tony had that grin back to his face and quickly gave Peter a number. "Great then that's settled! Here's Happy's number he'll call you in a few days and give you location to meet so he can pick you up there. I'll see you soon!" 

He watched as his dad got into the suit once again. 

"But- wait!  I didn't say I'll actually join you for Germany, Da- Mr. Stark!" 

"I'll see you soon, Spiderling!" 

"Its Spider-Man, Mr. Stark!"  

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

Did his Dad just recruit him?

For an International mission? 

What the fuck just happened. 

Peter didn't go to sleep when he got back home and was in his room.

Not even a little bit.

Every time he closed his eyes, it was a blur of memories that was starting to make him go crazy because today was actually rather peaceful. 

Then his Dad ruined that peace. 

And then Peter agreed. 

Gosh, he was so stupid. 

Tony Stark, who happened to be Iron Man, who happened to be his Dad had recruited Peter for an international mission. 

And he had no idea he was recruiting his own son.

Wasn't that funny.

By the time morning arrived, Peter was pretty sure that he aged at least ten years. His hoodie that he changed into was wrinkled, his hair looked like he fought a wind turbine and he was currently sitting at his desk in Midtown, blankly staring at the whiteboard while the teacher explained something. 

Wait when the hell did he get up and go to school.

"Dude."

Ned poked his arm which made him snap back towards reality. "You look like you got hit by a bus what happened?" 

Peter blinked. "Huh? Oh, er, nothing. I'm totally fine. Nothing happened at all, everything is... fine." 

Ned squinted. "You sure? Because.. you look like you're about five seconds from a mental breakdown." 

"Already did." Peter said under his breath. 

MJ, who was sitting at Peter's side, leaned forward. "Let me guess. You and Daddy Stark are still not on speaking terms?" 

Harry chuckled which made Peter glare at him. "Mate, you have to admit, Daddy Stark is funny. You know there's actual tons of people out there who would call your Father, Daddy if they had the chance to do that."

"Why would you say that?" Peter asked Harry and he shrugged in reply. 

"Also you MJ why would you call my dad-" 

"Because it makes you uncomfortable." MJ said flatly, flipping a page in her notebook. "Also it's true." 

Harry who was leaning back in his char, snorted. "What'd you do this time to piss him off? Steal a suit? Blow one of his suits up? Now that I think about it, do you guys think my Dad would ship me off again if I blew up his office?" 

"Hey," Peter said holding up his hands. "I didn't blow anything up. Also Harry, dude. Don't do that."

"Worth a shot." Harry whispered to himself.

Ned frowned. "So what? Did he inspect your room again?" 

Peter froze. "What? No?" 

Ned shrugged. "You're kinda acting the same way you did after the party. You know quiet, twitchy like you're hiding a dead body or something." 

Peter groaned and dropped his head onto the desk. "It's not about the party, okay?"

Harry leaned forward, grinning. "Then what's it about, Stark Junior?" 

Peter's brain was screaming, My dad recruited my superhero alter ego for an international battle I know nothing about! 

His mouth, however, went with something else. "..midterms."

MJ raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Midterms? Thats the best excuse you came up with?" 

"Yeah." Peter answered far too quickly. "And its not an excuse, you know Midterms are terrifying what if I fail-" 

"Peter, you're the top student of our year. What are you talking about." Ned deadpanned confused. 

"He got you there, mate." Harry added on. 

"Yeah well I study a lot to maintain that position, you know? It's very.. stressful and er you know.. I wanna exceed expectations and.. stuff." 

They still looked unimpressed. 

"Well, whatever. You know I'm always there for you, right?" Ned asked him, frowning. 

"Yeah, dude. I promise it's just been stressful lately." 

The bell rang suddenly and everyone got up, and the class spilled into the hall. As they walked, Harry was rambling about something that happened when he sneaked off campus in England, with MJ pretending she wasn't listening and Ned trying to convince Peter to come over after school even though he knew, Peter was grounded. 

But somehow, all Peter could think off was his Dad because- 

He can't go to Germany. 

Because if Tony ever found out who Spider-Man was..

Peter swallowed hard. 

Yeah, he was done for. 

Chapter Text

Two weeks.

Thats how long it had been since his Dad made sure that Peter, .. well Spider-Man joins his team or whatever for some kind of mission. 

Two weeks since Peter had been so stupid to agree and continued to panic over it ever since. 

Two weeks had passed and he finally got the message he was dreading so far. 

Unknown Number: Be ready, someone will pick you up in 30. 

Unknown Number: His names Happy, by the way. 

Unknown Number: He'll pick you up at the spot we met last time I saw you.    Seen. 

Now, standing in his secret room surrounded by scraps of failed web shooter parts and half empty coffee cups, Peter pulled his suit and was muttering to himself in a panic. 

"Okay you can do this. Just a quick trip to Germany. No one is going to find out that you're not home because Dad's not home and you'll be fine, Spider-man." 

He went quiet for a second. "I'm gonna fuck this up won't I." 

Peter sighed and took his phone once again. 

Peter: Ned? 

Peter: Ned 

Ned: Whats up? 

Peter: If someone calls u, like Pepper or something can you tell her I'm at yours? 

Ned: Aren't you grounded tho

Ned: Also why? Where are you going? 

Peter: I'll explain it once I'm back 

Peter: Please dude 

Ned: Fine. 

Ned: But if you ghost us all again I'm gonna tell MJ and Harry 

Peter: I love u dude. I owe you one. 

Ned: ily2 and yes you do

Peter smiled to himself, doesn't even know when he arrived at the location just that he did and that Happy arrived soon after. 

The teen heard a honk from a car below him, right on cue. 

Peter grabbed his backpack and swung onto the ground awkwardly, a familiar black Audi was waiting by the curb. The window rolled down to reveal Happy, who was looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, which was kind of valid, Peter supposes. 

"Spider-Guy? That you?" Happy asked, his voice flat.

"It's er-" Peter stopped then spoke up again trying to deepen his voice. "It's Spider-Man. Mr, uhm Happy sir." 

Happy just stared at him with an annoyed expression. "Yes, that's, er me. The man, of uhm. Spiders." 

Happy squinted. "You're weirder than I thought. Whatever, get in."

Peter climbed in, trying to ignore his stupid heart that kept pounding because he was just so damn nervous. 

"So, uh, where we.. where are we going?"

"Airport." Happy answered. "Tony's already waiting for you, since it's urgent."

Peter froze at the mention of his Dad's name, he quickly unfroze himself and buckled himself into the seat. "Urgent. Right. Yeah, I love urgency."

The car ride was painfully quiet. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and the occasional buzz of Peter's nervous fidgeting.

When they finally arrived at the private airstrip, Peter was convinced he was gonna die. The Stark Industries jet was gleaming under the lights, the ramp down and the engines warm. 

"Fancy." Peter muttered, even though he knows how his Dad's jets look like. 

Happy started walking towards the jet. "C'mon, Tony is not the most patient guy out there. He hates waiting."

"Wait, you.. you're coming as well?" Peter asked as he felt his heart drop. 

"I'm not letting you unsupervised near my boss' million dollar aircraft, kid."

Peter sighed under his mask. "Fair enough."

Happy gestured for him to sit. "Buckle up. We're taking off as soon as Tony gets on the comms."

Peter fumbled with the seatbelt. "Right. Buckle up. Safety first. That's.. always good."

Happy side eyed him, clearly weirded out. "Do you always talk this much?" 

"Only when I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

"Who.. who said anything about me being nervous? I'm not nervous. I have no idea what you mean by that, sir." Peter's voice cracked out.

Before Happy could even respond, the jet's holographic display flickered to life. His Dad's face appeared on screen and Peter's stomach dropped. Tony's helmet was off and his exhaustion was obvious. 

"Spider-Man." Tony said smoothly, like this was a completely normal day and that he didn't know that he literally recruited his own son to fight against war criminals. "Glad you could make, not that I doubted it, of course. Anyway we're headed towards Germany in case you forgot." 

Peter swallowed hard. Don't freak out, Peter. Do not freak out. 

He managed a nod once again trying to deepen his voice. "Of course, Mr. Stark, sir. Always happy, to uhm. Help out Iron-Man." 

Happy groaned next to him which successfully managed to make him even more nervous. 

Tony smiled on screen. "You've got some good instincts, kid. I've seen the footage, well to be fair a lot of people saw the footage. I mean the swinging around with that.. with those webs? You managed to stop a whole car and, well I think you've got potential kid. I might even recruit you for the Avengers once all this mess with the Accords is sorted out." 

Peter tried not to wince. Great. My Dad watches my YouTube highlights. That's not weird at all. 

"Thanks," He said quickly. "That means, er a lot, to me. I'll.. do my best, Mr. Stark, sir." Wow, it felt weird calling him that. 

His Dad smirked faintly, the kind of smirk he would give Harley whenever the two would do something together. "We'll see if your best holds up in the battlefield, not that I think there will be too much serious fighting. Wheels up in five. Happy make sure he doesn't break anything." 

The holographic screen disappears and Happy rolls his eyes. "You're lucky, kid. Most people don't get Stark personally calling them in."

Peter slumped back in his seat, heart still hammering. "Yeah." he muttered under his breath. "Lucky me." 

"Peter?" Ms. Laine spoke up, her eyes were wide and she looked like she was shocked. 

Peter looked up from the lego set he was building. "Yes, Ms. Laine?" 

Ms. Laine looked haunted which made him frown. "Your.. your Dad wa-"

That's when Harley and Pepper burst into his room making the woman stop talking.

"Peter, Dad was found! He's on the way home right now!" 

Oh. Peter doesn't know why he didn't feel as happy as he should've been. 

What he doesn't forget though, is the way Ms. Laine expression looked like when Harley told him. 

His Dad still had no idea who Spider-Man really was, it already made Peter cringe when the time would come. Maybe it never would come, even his friends hadn't figured it out yet. 

The flight to Germany were the longest hours in Peter's life. Happy barely said a word the whole time, and Peter was spending most of the time trying not to hyperventilate. 

When they finally arrived at the hotel, a lot of people were giving him weird stares, which was fair. He was in his Spider-suit after all. 

Happy handed him a keycard. "Room 312. Don't touch the minibar, as far as I know you're still a minor. Don't blow anything up. And don't make me regret being here." 

Peter nodded far too fast. "Got it. No minibar. No blowing stuff up. Not that.. not that I er- was planning to blow anything up." 

Happy gave him a flat stare, then he walked off muttering something to himself. 

Peter opened the door to his room, dropped his backpack to the floor, changed his clothes but he left his mask on. 

He didn't take it off. 

Not once.

His Dad looked different and there was a blue light under his T-Shirt. 

Harley was crying when their Dad finally hugged him and Pepper looked like she was about to cry as well, Uncle Rhodey was staring at the whole thing fondly. 

Peter felt out of place. 

Ms. Laine was holding his hand though, quite tightly in a way that it started to hurt his hand. 

But it was comforting, no one else ever held his hand. 

"Peter, don't you want to go hug your dad?" The woman asked eventually but his Dad was still hugging Harley and his brother was basically sobbing at this point. 

Peter shook his head. "He's busy with Harley and he looks.. weird." 

The older woman smiled and she ruffled his hair afterwards.

"You're such a good and understanding boy, Peter." 

Peter didn't sleep. 

Every sound in the hallway made him jump, a door slam two floors beneath him had him leaping to the ceiling. He must've checked all the locks at least a hundred times, before finally curling up on the top of the covers, his mask still on. 

Eventually, morning arose and Peter found himself talking to himself in the mirror. 

His suit on, of course. "Okay, Peter. Deep breaths. Just.. pretend you're not you. You're not Peter, you are Spider-Man. Spider-Man doesn't have dad whose name is Tony Stark and is Iron-Man. Spider-Man doesn't get grounded and Spider-Man..-"

He froze as someone knocked at the door. 

Peter felt his stomach twisting again. "Whose.. who's there?" 

Happy's voice spoke up, tired and unimpressed. "It's me. You gonna open up or what, kid?" 

Peter scrambled to the floor, mask firmly on his face. 

A few moments passed but he opened the door up. 

Happy stepped in, stared at him for two seconds before his look changed to horror. 

"Did you sleep in that thing?" Peter felt lightly offended but he shook his head. 

"Didn't you open the case?" 

Peter frowned beneath the mask. "What case?" 

Happy shut his eyes and groaned before he signaled for Peter to follow him, he opened the door to another room. 

"Oh I thought.. I thought that was a closet?" 

"That's the case." Happy said before leaving the room once again. "You'll better be changed in five minutes." 

There was a small note on the case that said: Minor Upgrade, because the onesie you have is ridiculous - TS 

The brunette opened the case and there.. was a freaking awesome spider suit in there. 

"Oh my gosh." He said to himself. "Oh my gosh." 

"This is so cool." 

Peter had never been to a battlefield before. 

Sure, he stopped muggers and carjackers and the occasional guy with a crowbar who really overestimated himself. 

But this? 

This was a whole other level. 

This was an Avengers level. 

With real superheroes. 

And Tony Stark. 

His Dad. 

The second his boots hit the concrete of the Leipzig airport, his nerves nearly short circuited his brain. His hands were shaking so bad he almost missed his first shot of a webbing. 

"Alright Underoos! You're up!" Tony's voice cackled through the comms. 

Underoos. 

Peter nearly groaned out loud, great. It's his first mission, and his Dad already gave him a stupid sounding nickname. 

Still, he swung forward like he'd been doing this his entire life. The air rushed past him, the wind biting at his suit. And for a single moment the fear disappeared. 

"Peter?" The voice clung out sounding like the bad monster, Ms Laine would always make it go away. 

But Ms Laine was gone. 

Peter kept hidden under his bed. 

When suddenly..- 

Then someone shot at him. 

"Whoa!" Peter yelped, twisting midair to dodge Falcon's wing's slicing past. He fired a web and stuck them together, sending Sam spiraling before he regained his control. 

"Who the hell is that asshole?!" Sam shouted. 

Peter landed on a truck awkwardly, he frowned, he still had to get used to this new suit. "Hi! I'm Spider-Man! Big fan of uh-" 

He paused as the Winter Soldier charged towards him, that wasn't creepy, not at all. 

"-that guy with the really cool arm!" 

The Winter Solider swung at him, and Peter dodged instinctively, maybe he just got lucky and the sound of metal against his web shooters rang out a sharp echo. 

"You have a metal arm?" Peter said, his voice pitching with awe. "That is awesome, dude!" 

The Winter solider blinked at him, well more like he glared because he was giving him a look that somehow rang out to Peter's mind that he wanted to kill him. 

He webbed him to the floor and swung away. "Bye, bye, Mr. Metal Guy!" 

Behind him, Tony's voice clung to the comms. "Underoos! Focus! We're here to fight not sightsee-!" 

Peter flinched slightly. "Right, er, my bad! I'm gonna focus real hard now, Mr Stark, sir! I'm so sorry!" 

He kept swinging until he saw Captain America but also his Dad, in his suit. 

"Did you guys ever watch 'Empire Strikes Back?'" He yelled out. 

"Jesus, Tony. How old is this guy?" 

In one fluid motion, that even made himself gasp, he webbed captain America's shield right out of his hand. 

"OH MY GOSH! I just stole Captain America's shield, oh my gosh-" This is what you get for forcing me to eat dinner with you guys, Mr Steve fucking Rogers, sir. 

"I guess karma does exist after all.." He whispered to himself. 

Peter stared at the star spangled disc in absolute awe. 

"Woah.." he let out a breath. "Da- Mr. Stark! I stole Captain America's shield, do you want it?" 

Cap froze, the he blinked. 

Tony smirked, through his helmet. "Nice catch, Underoos."

The battle blurred after that. 

Peter ducked under Visions beams, tripped Ant-Man, and barely managed to avoid getting flattened by a car.

Everywhere he looked was pure chaos. 

Everything was far too close and way too loud. 

Every time his Dad would yell out a command, Peter obeyed instantly, instinctively. 

Just like a solider would obey their commander. 

Just like a son would obey their father. 

When the dust finally settled, and Team cap retreated, Peter stood on shaky legs, breathing hard. His suit was scuffed, his ribs ached and his mask felt far too tight around his face.

Tony landed beside him, faceplate sliding up. The proud grin on his face made Peter's stomach twist. 

"You did good, Spidey." he said. "Not bad for your first battle, are you hurt?"

Peter shook his head. "Thanks, Mr. Stark."

Tony went quiet for a second, squinting his eyes and he stared at him in a way that made him panic. 

Then he gave him a short nod before walking off to the quinjet. 

Peter stared as he watched Tony walking away. 

Something stirred inside him. 

"Peter? Buddy, what are you doing under the bed? It's two am in the morning.." 

Chapter Text

The Tower felt hollow. 

The hum of the elevator, usually warm and familiar, echoed sharply against the glass walls. No music, no shatter. No faint hum of his Dad's workshop or Harley arguing.. with DUM-E, his brother was in room, Peter guessed that much. 

It was silent.

Peter stepped out, every movement felt sluggish, every breath he took felt heavy. His head still rang faintly from the flight, or maybe because of everything else. 

He couldn't really tell anymore. 

He wasn't even sure how he got home. The plane, the mission, the jet lag, the adrenaline, it had all blurred together until he found himself in front of the Tower. 

Peter didn't even try to hide his suit in the secret room, he just hid it in his bag. The suit, that his Dad had made for him. 

Peter shut his eyes and swallowed hard. 

He quickly walked into his room, and shut the door. His hair was sticking up in every direction, his ribs were aching and well, his whole body was aching. 

His phone buzzed on the bed beside him. 

Again and again. 

He didn't even bother checking, even though he promised Ned he would explain. Not the hundreds of notifications, not the missed calls, not the blinking group chats and the several messages alone from MJ and Harry or the countless messages from Harley. 

How would he explain it, though without telling them he was Spider-Man. 

Peter thought that he would feel some kind of pride, which he did but he also kind of doesn't because all the single conversations he had with his Dad were the only civil ones they had in a while without arguing and Tony didn't even know he was talking to him. 

It managed to make him feel bittersweet about the whole situation. 

Peter leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at his reflection in the glass. His eyes looked haunted, the shadows under them looked as if they were bruised.

He rubbed his face. "You're fine." he whispered to himself. "You did good. I'm fine."

"Peter, buddy?" Peter frowned, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he hid under the bed. 

"What are you doing down there, Pete? Did you have a bad dream?" His Dad looked at him as he crouched down. 

His Dad was smiling when Peter finally crawled out of his hiding place and the man patted his head in the way only Ms. Laine would. 

"Go to sleep, Pete."

Peter didn't even notice that the door opened. 

He was sitting on the floor, back against the bed side, blankly staring at the camera footage he took in Germany. 

The faint whir of the door sensors barely registered to his mind, until Harley's voice cut through the silence like a blade. 

"Peter." 

The brunette's head jerked up. 

Harley stood in the doorway, his jaw tight, eyes flashing with anger that looked similar to worry that had festered too long. His hoodie was rumpled and his hair was messy as it usually was. 

"Harley?" Peter's voice came out small and hoarse. 

"Don't even- Don't 'Harley' me you jerk!" He stepped in, the door sliding shut behind him. "You disappeared for days! Do you know how many times I had to lie for you when Mom asked me where you were? The only reason I even knew you were gone was because your friend Ned called me! What the fuck, Peter? It's already bad enough that-" 

Harley stopped himself, biting his cheek. 

Peter sighed, nibbling at his lip. "I was.. are you angry?" 

"Angry doesn't even cover it." Harley's laugh came out sharp and cold. "Dad already is acting like nothing is fucking wrong with all the shit that's been going on, and then not to mention the rebellious streak you've been having the last few months. I mean seriously, Peter- Dad wasn't lying when he told that you've been shutting us all out."

Peter flinched. "I'm not shutting you out, Harley."

"Really?" Harley snapped, throwing a hand towards the room. "Because the shit you've been doing does not make any sense, to any of us. What the hell happened, where even were you, Peter? You come home like you haven't slept in a week not to mention that you look half dead, by the way. You don't talk to anyone anymore. You- you've been ghosting me as well and I'm fucking worried!" 

Peter stood up suddenly, his voice shaking. "You don't get it!" 

"Then make me get it, Peter!" 

The silence that came after was deafening. 

Peter clenched his fists as he looked away. "I can't." 

"Bullshit." Harley said, stepping closer. "You could always tell me. When we were kids, remember? We used to tell each other everything. You'd talk about your whole stupid day for hours, you used to trust me. Then you stopped, literally just stopped.. you started to avoid me like the pest- why?" 

Because I was jealous. 

Peter's throat felt tight and didn't even bother to respond. 

"Fine, don't tell me. Where were you the last few days? Did you use the fact that Dad wasn't here as an advantage, Peter? Because I will literally tell him that you were missing for two whole days." 

Peter's head snapped towards the older boy's direction. "You can't do that!" 

"Then tell me what's going on!" Harley demanded. 

"No!" 

"Then I'll tell Dad and you know he's going to be pissed because technically you're still grounded." Harley folded his arms as the two stared at each other. 

"Harley, you can't tell him, please don''t tell him or Pepper." Peter said as his voice cracked and Harley's expression changed, more worried now. 

"Peter, what the fuck is going on? Honestly, because it's not just me who noticed at this point. Is it  alcohol? Are you still drinking?" 

"What-? No! I'm not fucking drinking, Harley! I know you all think I'm some screw up or whatever but I'm not drinking! I'm not Dad for fuck's sake!" 

Harley's eyes flickered with something that wasn't anger anymore, but hurt, real hurt. 

"You know.. Dad is also really worried. You know this, Peter. Do you know how pissed off he was when he saw those pictures of you on the news?"

"Harls, can't you just drop this? For once, please?" Harley's eyes widened at the use of the old nickname Peter used to call him.

"I will, if you tell me what's going on, Pete." 

"Why did you fire Ms. Laine?" Peter demanded, trying his best not to glare at his Dad. 

Tony raised a brow, and his face fell in a way. He just stared at Peter for a few moments before he actually spoke up. 

"That's grown up business, Pete and you're a big boy now aren't you?" 

"Peter." 

The brunette looked up again, he didn't even notice that he zoned out again. 

"Look, I won't tell Dad if you promise me that you'll tell me what happened once you're ready." 

Peter blinked, thought for a few seconds. "Fine." 

Peter woke up early next morning, left a note on the counter and managed to go to school with the subway. 

Why you ask? He was avoiding Harley. 

Even though, he left early, Peter didn't even make it to first period. 

He'd barely stepped through the doors of Midtown when a blur of voices and motion swallowed him whole. One second he was trying to push his earbuds in and the next- 

"There he is!" 

Ned practically grabbed his backpack strap, MJ closed in from the other side and Harry, well.. Harry looked furious in that "I've been worried for ages" kind of way. 

"Guys.." Peter tried, but nope. He was officially being herded down the hallway like a criminal. 

They dragged him into an empty robotics lab, slammed the door shut and all three just stared at him. 

That wasn't weird at all. 

MJ crossed her arms. "Talk." 

"Uh..- Good morning?" 

"Don't even try that shit with me, Stark Junior." Harry cut him off, pacing like he might explode. "You disappeared for two whole days! You scared the shit out of Ned who then tells us and also scares the shit out of- well I can't speak for MJ.. but you look horrid as well, mate. What the fuck, Peter?" 

Ned nodded, frowning. "I thought something happened to you, dude! I even called Harley! Like.. even MJ was worried." 

"I wasn't worried." MJ said flatly, then sighed. "Okay maybe a little. You look like shit, Stark." 

Peter slumped into one of the labs seats. "I was.. just busy with something." 

"Busy?" Harry's tone was scandalous. "Busy with what, exactly? Because you've been acting off for ages and I'm pretty sure you have raccoon level dark circles right now, gosh Stark why would you do that to your handsome face!" 

MJ and Ned looked at each other confused at the last part, while Peter bit his cheek ignoring everyone who was staring at him right now. 

MJ leaned on the counter, watching him. "You know, for a guy who can't lie to save his life, you trying really hard right now." 

"I'm not lying." 

"Then what are you doing?" Ned asked, voice quieter now. "Because we're worried y'know. And Harry really wasn't lying when he said you look like you aren't sleeping, dude." 

Peter opened his mouth then closed it again, there were a thousand excuses he could use, thousands of lies that would make it all easier. But the words in his mind just sat there, heavy and useless. 

Harry leaned in, voice soft but sharp. "You're hiding something. Clearly. You're shaking, man." 

Peter glanced down, he was shaking. His fingers were trembling against his jeans. His brain was foggy and was body was still sore. 

"I'm fine." He muttered in reply. "I.. we all need to get to class, anyway. So.." 

Peter stood suddenly and took his bag, walking away without looking back. 

Harry took a step towards him, but MJ put a hand on his arm, shaking her head. Peter didn't look back as he slipped out of the room. 

The bell rang a few minutes after, muffled and distant, but all he could hear was the pounding in his chest and the whisper in the back of his mind, telling him that if people would found out about who he was, they would be in danger because of him. 

Peter should go patrol after school. 

Chapter Text

Rain slicked the sides of buildings, city lights warping into blurred streaks of red and gold against the wet pavement. It was late, later than Peter usually stayed out but somehow home managed to become even more suffocating than usual, school included. His chest was buzzing with restless energy. 

It was quiet, too quiet and his Spidey sense was also buzzing. 

He swung low across a row of small shops, his web catching the neon sign of a laundromat before flipping into a nearby wall. He was about to call it a night when a sudden explosion of light flashed from the street below, bright and orange and wrong. 

Peter froze. 

Through the drizzle, he could make out three guys in cheap Halloween masks covering their faces, Iron-Man, Captain America and Thor. They were standing in front of an ATM, the metal frame smoking. 

"Oh come on," Peter muttered under his breath, annoyed. "You're giving the Avengers a bad name." 

The teen dropped silently onto  the side of a delivery truck, crouching low. The fake Iron-Man was waiving around some kind of gun that looked a tad bit familiar but also far too wrong. It looked weird, with sparks of blue energy cackling out of it, melting the corner of the ATM like butter. 

Peter tilted his head. "Yep, thats definitely not from earth." 

One deep breath, and then he jumped. 

"Hey, guys! You're not supposed to be doing that! It's very wrong, didn't your mommy teach you guys that?" 

The three of them turned, one screamed, and then Peter was in motion. He shot a web out, disarming the guy instantly. The gun hit the ground with a metallic thud, hissing steam. 

BLAST! 

"Woah- woah! Okay, let's just talk about this! I won't bring your mommy up again, dude!" Peter said, dodging another blast from the fake Captain America's weapon. The beam barely missed him, burning a hole in a parked car. 

The brunette winced. "Yikes, someone's insurance is gonna hate that." 

Peter ducked low and webbed the second guy's ankles, and yanked. The man hit the ground with a grunt. The third one, fake Thor took a swing at him with the butt of his weapon, and Peter blocked it easily, twisting his arm around  before sending him spiraling against the ATM. 

The weapon clattered to the ground, the blue energy was pulsing from it like a heartbeat. 

Peter crouched, he was curious, it was clearly alien like. It looked similar to the weapons his Dad would make when he used to craft them. "Okay, that is definitely alien." 

He was about to pick it up, when fake Iron-Man yelled behind him. "You're dead, kid! Just wait until I get out of these fucking webs, I'm gonna-" 

"Oi, language!" Peter shot back automatically, webbing the guy's mouth shut before he could say anything else. 

Sirens blared in the distance, the robbers were already all webbed up in a neat little trio, hanging upside down from a streetlight. Peter made sure the weapons were out of reach, snapped a picture for his own logs and then looked back at the strange blue tech still humming faintly on the ground. 

Don't do it, Peter. 

Don't do it. 

He hesitated. 

Then picked it up. 

The metal was warm, too warm and it vibrated faintly in his hand. 

"Dad would totally lose his mind if he knew I was touching this." Peter mumbled to himself, then froze when he realized what he said, he turned and saw that the robbers didn't hear anything. 

He quickly wrote a note and sticked it onto the streetlight. 

"Have a good day, fake avengers. I hope it goes out well for you in prison." Peter told them cheerfully and then swung off. 

It was well past two am in the morning, when Peter slipped through the Towers service elevator, his hoodie was half zipped, suit shoved in his backpack. The building was quiet, the city noise still hummed in the teens ears, though. 

He tiptoed across the marble floor, shoes squeaking faintly against the polished surface, heart pounding harder than it had in the fight. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest, for sleep, for the tiredness to go away. 

The lights in his room were off when he walked in. 

Good. 

Peter exhaled, and stepped inside. The air felt heavy and still. He closed the door that was behind him and flicked the door switch on. 

Click. 

"Where the hell have you been?" 

Peter froze, his heart dropped the stone and it took everything in him not to scream. 

Harley was sitting on his bed, elbows on his knees, with dark circles under his eyes, and his jaw tight. His phone sat next to him, its screen lighting up his face with an accusatory glow. 

"Harley," Peter said, his tone instantly turning defensive. "I-" 

"No. Don't start." Harley stood, his voice sharp. "You've been sneaking out. This isn't the first time, I am to one hundred percent that it isn't the first time because I asked FRIDAY and she was confused because she found no data about you in the last few months. Also did you think I wouldn't notice?" 

Peter blinked, clutching his bag closer without realizing it. "I..er.. I wasn't.."

"Don't even try lying to me.” Harley stepped closer pointing a finger at him. "You look like hell, you've been barely eating, and I swear I saw you limping last week. Not to mention that you went missing for two whole days not even a week ago, Peter! What the hell are you doing?" 

"Drop it, please. Harley you promised you would-" 

"No, I'm not dropping it!" Harley snapped. "There is something seriously wrong going on. I have done my research, Peter. Don't think I didn't notice the way you're avoiding me now, either, by the way. You can't keep pulling this crap! You're going to kill yourself in some way, if you don't tell me whatever the hell it is that you're doing!" 

Peter's shoulders stiffened, his voice was low. "It's none of your business, Harley. Stay out of it." 

"The hell it isn't." Harley's voice cracked. "Peter you might not like the fact but you still are my younger brother. You can't fucking blame me that I'm getting mad when you're clearly doing something stupid. The only reason I'm not even telling Dad right now is because I don't want us to become even more distant than we already are." 

"Peter, why aren't you crying?" Harley asked, sniffing while Peter only stared blankly, he felt weird, he was sad but he didn't understand why. Dad was gonna come back, he always did, why was everyone acting like he was dead. 

He thought Harley would understand, but after Peter didn't reply his brother started to avoid him like the pest.

"Harls?" Peter asked, it was dark and he had a nightmare so he went into Harley's room. 

"Go away, Peter." 

Peters hands formed into fists, his hair was sticking out in every direction and there was a lump in his throat building. "You wouldn't get it." 

Harley laughed, bitterly stepping closer. "Dude, I'm not gonna.. like judge you or anything. So just tell me. What's going on?" 

Peter didn't answer and that managed to make it worse. 

Then Harley's eyes flickered down, to where the zipper was slightly open, revealing a flash of deep red fabric and web fluid on it. 

Both of them froze. 

Peter closed his eyes shut. 

Harley grabbed his bag away and opened it quickly dragging the newly stark made suit out of Peter's bag. 

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" Harley's voice was quiet now, the anger was slightly gone switched and replaced with disbelief. 

Peter's pulse was spiking as every second went on, his breath was hitching in his throat. "Don't." 

Harley's gaze snapped up, wide and sharp. "You've got to be kidding me." 

"Harley-" 

"Are you.. fuck. Are you Spider-Man? That new guy? That Dad literally recruited and is basically going nuts right now by trying to figure out his identity?" 

Peters lips parted, but no sound came out. The silence said enough. 

Harley let out a short, incredulous laugh, half shocked and half furious. "Are you serious, Peter? This is.. unbelievable. Your fifteen. Newly fifteen may I add. Fucking hell. Do you realize what kind of creeps are out there? Wait does this mean you have powers?" 

"I'm trying to help people, Harley!" Peter finally snapped, his voice was cracking with exhaustion and panic. "I have to." 

Harley took a shaky breath, the reality slowly creeping in. "Peter, you could get killed. You could've gotten killed and we- your fucking family by the way would have never found you were dead. Do you get that?"

Peter looked down. "Yeah." he whispered. "I know." 

The tension hung between them, heavy mixed with panic and guilt. 

Harley ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Dad is gonna kill you when he finds out." 

Peter smiled, giving him a small laugh. "Yeah, and he's gonna kill you for not telling him. Because you won't..right?" 

Harley frowned. "I hate you, Peter. God. Fine. I won't tell him but you better let me help you." 

That unfortunately was not the end of it though. 

Because Harley decided to start panicking after saying that statement. 

The older boy was pacing around in the room, muttering things under his breath. 

"You do know that Dad's gonna lose it, if he finds out, right? I mean he literally dragged you to Germany and didn't even figure out he was dragging his fucking son to a battlefield where he almost died because of Steve!" 

Peter did not know that last batch of information. 

Peter peeked through his fingers, trying his best not to yawn. "Are you done yet?" 

Harley stopped dead, turning towards him with wide eyes. "Done? Peter, my younger brother is literal freaking Spider-Man. My baby freaking brother who's fifteen has weird spider powers! I don't I'll ever be done!"

Peter groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Can you not say it out loud? The walls have ears here. FRIDAY is probably listening to us as we speak." 

Harley blinked once, then twice. "Are you seriously worried about FRIDAY right now? Peter you have super strength. And a six pack, since when did you have a six pack- and oh my gosh you're taller. And why aren't you wearing your glasses. How the fuck did none of us notice." 

"I got bitten by a spider in my field trip to oscorp." Peter mumbled. "You were literally there. I think I puked on your shoes or something when you walked into my room." 

"Oh yeah, well that just comforts me." Harley said throwing his hands up. "Peter a huge freaking nerd who sucks at sports and gets sick every two seconds, gets bitten by some weird spider during a field trip to a company, the one company our Dad literally hates, bye the way and gets weird freaking spider powers. And then turns into a vigilante!" 

Peter sighed, leaning against the headboard. "You are making this sound a lot more worse than it, you know?" 

"Thats because it is worse than it is, Peter!" Harley snapped, pacing again. "You could've, you could die, Pete! I mean.. seriously what if one of those weirdos out there shoot at you or something?" 

I probably shouldn't tell him I almost got shot by an alien gun should I. 

Peter shrugged, trying to act casual but of course failing miserably. "Then... I wouldn't have to worry about Spanish class?" 

Harley stared at him like he had grown a second head. "Oh my gosh. You actually went insane. How did you manage to hide this so well? You suck at lying! You're the worst liar on earth." 

"First of all that's not true, as it shows I am awesome at lying. Second of all I am not insane." 

Harley stopped again, looking at him, and for a second the panic was replaced with something else. Something more quiet. 

"Why?" He finally asked. 

Peter blinked, a bit confused. "What?" 

"Why are you doing this, Pete?" Harley's voice softened a notch. "You've got everything. You don't even have to be a hero, you know. Dad's literally Iron-Man..and.. why would, I mean.. why would you risk your life- I mean... what are you doing? Are you trying to prove to Dad that you're the better hero or something?" 

Peter looked away, his jaw tightening. "It's not about that." 

"Then what is it about?" 

Peter hesitated,  fingers digging into his knees. "Someone died. Someone died.. because of me. I can't let something like that happen can I? And I don't have.. these powers for no reason either, do I? I can change fate in a way. I can save people, Harley." 

Harley didn't say anything, he just stood there. The weight of that confession hitting him like a punch. 

Then after a beat.. 

"Okay," he said slowly, rubbing his temples. "Okay, you're Spider-Man. You're saving people. You're traumatized thats not a question anymore that's a fact. Cool, cool, cool. That's.. cool, yes. Totally fine. This is totally fine." 

Peter groaned again. "You're freaking out about this way more than when I found out I had powers by the way." 

"Yeah, no shit you're the reason I'm freaking out!" Harley shot back, pointing a finger at him. "You can't just be Spider-Man and expect me, to what? Chill out and make you a sandwich and act like this is all normal?" 

Peter tried to fight off a grin. "Would you make me a sandwich though?" 

Harley's glare was sharp enough to cut through him. 

"Okay, okay. That was bad timing, I admit that." 

Silence, then slowly Harley exhaled and sat down beside him. 

"I can't believe this." The older boy muttered, ruffling Peter's hair into an even messier mess. "My little brother is.. Spider-Man." 

Peter smiled faintly. "Pretty cool, right?" 

Harley groaned, shutting his eyes. "You're gonna give me a heart attack before I even turn twenty, dude." 

"Do you think you're gonna start getting gray hair like Dad does because of the stress?" 

Harley opened his eyes again, turned to face him and glared. "If you insult me like that one more time, you don't have to worry about a creep shooting you dead in an alley because I will be doing you the favor of unaliving you." 

Peter cackled, not noticing the fond look Harley was giving him. 

Maybe, just maybe everything would be alright. 

Chapter Text

The mornings during the weekends were usually loud in the Stark household, Morgans cartoons would be blaring from the living room, Pepper reading the news or whatever e-mail people send her, and his Dad sitting on his usual morning chair drinking coffee while either looking thoughtful or talking way too much. 

But today it had an edge to it. 

Mostly because Harley was acting weird. 

Like weirder, than usual. 

He was sitting on the kitchen island, pretending to scroll through his phone while eating his cereal even though he kept side eyeing every thirty seconds. Whenever, Peter even moved, Harley would straighten up like he was about to tackle the brunette to stop him from doing something stupid. 

Peter, in comparison, was doing everything humanly possible to not look suspicious, which, well naturally, made him look extremely suspicious. 

Peter stirred his cereal, with the focus of a man defusing a bomb. 

Tony was glancing between the two, brow raised and exchanging a confused look with Pepper. "Okay.. which one of you did something and is waiting for me to find out about it?" 

Pepper looked up from the tablet. "I was wondering the same thing, both of you are acting off." 

Harley's face went pale and he coughed, trying to smile afterwards. "Off? What? Us? We didn't do anything, like at all. We're just doing.. some brotherly bonding, yes, brotherly bonding." 

Peter kicked him from under the table, hard. 

Harley flinched and send him a glare. "Ow- yeah, see? Normal brotherly bonding." 

Their Dad squinted at them unconvinced. "Uh-huh. Because nothing says normal like you two pretending not to make eye contact for five minutes straight." 

Morgan looked up from her tablet, frowning. "Did one of you break Daddy's robots again?" 

Peter instantly raised his arms. "For your information, missy. I never broke anything, if anything did break, it was Harley." 

"Dude, what the fuck?" 

Pepper raised a brow. "Harley, language. Also that answer scares me more than if you had said yes, Peter." 

Harley let out a panicked laugh, which made Peter give him a stare of silently telling him to shut up. "We're.. trying to hang out more right, Peter? Bonding and stuff, brotherly love is important. You two wouldn't know since you're both only children." 

Tony crossed his arms. "Bonding? We tried to make you two do that once when you were ten, Harley and you managed to corrupt Peter into putting glitter onto Rogers shield." 

"That was one time and funny." Harley muttered. 

"That glitter stayed on the shield for months, Harley." Pepper added. 

Peter shot his brother another look that said "Say nothing or die." Harley to his credit did try but his poker face was as reliable as a paper umbrella in a hurricane. 

"So.." Tony said slowly, still staring at them. "you're sure there's nothing to tell us? No weird projects, no legal trouble? No leaked pictures that are currently on the news?" 

Peter choked on his cereal and gave Tony a glare. "No, Dad. Nothing is on the news." 

His Dad just shrugged, taking a sip from his coffee. "Well, you never know. It's not like it never happened right, Pete?" 

Pepper ever the peacemaker stood up, already looking tired from just listening to the conversation. "That's enough, Tony. Why are you trying to provoke him?" 

"Boys if you did something, make sure to clean it up and for it not to happen again." The ginger haired woman added on. 

Ms. Laine was staring at Pepper in a weird way. 

"Peter?" The boy looked up, the woman was stroking his hair now. 

"Yes, Ms. Laine?" 

The blonde haired woman smiled, in a sad way. "Don't ever forget this lesson, Peter. You can't trust anyone that just comes your way. Some people are.."

She shook her head. "Be careful, alright? I won't always be here." 

Peter titled his head, a bit confused but he nodded his nonetheless. 

Morgan leaned on the table, closer towards Peter when Pepper and Tony were talking about something. 

"Petey?" He snapped back to reality, giving the girl a tight smile. 

"Yes, Morgs?" 

"You looked like you were dreaming, Peter. Are you tired?" Peter patted her on the head, shaking his own. 

The conversation moved on, Pepper reminding Tony about a meeting he can't afford to miss, Morgan was humming to herself, coloring now while the tension between Peter and Harley was lingering. 

Every time their Dad glanced away, Harley mouthed. "We're so screwed." 

Peter just sighed, staring into the now empty bowl. "Jeez, I wonder why and I'm supposed to be the worse liar out of the two of us." He mumbled to himself. 

Peter doesn't know why he walked to the workshop. 

It was quiet in his room, too quiet, which made him start thinking about things. 

A lot of things. 

Which most of the time meant nothing good, mostly about his Dad and the other half was him thinking about his friends, since he's been ghosting them. 

Peter grimaced, he was ghosting them, they had already send him multiple messages but Peter didn't open a single one. 

He knew they were just worried, but Peter was fine, really he was. 

It's not like he was to proud to admit that sometimes it all just became so much that he would..

The teen shook his head, he was sitting in the workshop doorway, watching his Dad work on something he hasn't seen yet. 

It had been ages since they had a conversation that didn't end in an argument, when it didn't they would mostly talk to each other passive aggressively. 

Or, when Peter was Spider-Man, but his Dad didn't know that fact so it didn't really count. 

He should probably tell him, once they meet again in Superhero form about those alien weapons. 

"Do you think dad's alive, Pete?" Harley asked him once when Peter snuck into his room, he couldn't sleep and it was dark. 

"Dad always comes back, Harls. He.. he probably just got lost." Peter answered with a sniff. 

"But what if he doesn't?" 

Peter blinked, a bit confused about the question. "We have Ms. Laine." 

Harley rolled his eyes. "Ms. Laine only works for you. I don't get why you like her, she's strict and it's obvious that she doesn't stand any of us besides you, Pete." 

"That's not true."

The hum of the arc reactor filled the air. Sparks flickered in the dim light. 

It was quiet, his Dad noticed he was there. 

"I didn't hear you come in." Tony said, being the first to speak up. 

Peter shrugged. "I didn't want to interrupt. You looked pretty focused." 

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Always. 

Peter cracked a small and weak smile. "Since I figured you deserved a peaceful day, for once." 

Tony smirked, setting his tools down. "Careful, Pete. I might start thinking that you're growing up." 

For a second no one said anything, it wasn't the usual awkward silence though. It was..weird to say the least. It was the most civil conversation they had in months. 

Peter nibbled at his lip, the guilt in his body managing to rise, even though he knew that it wasn't his fault. Well, most of it. 

"I..just, well. Thought I'd say sorry because.. you're still pissed because of the party. And.. the stuff, well some of it was maybe too.. well everything,," 

Tony leaned back in his chair, looking at him quietly. "That's a lot of 'everything' there, Pete." 

"Yeah, well. I'm kind of a professional to screw everything up." 

Tony's expression softened and he sighed as he got up. "You're a teenager, you're supposed to screw up, god knows how much I crap I did when I was your age. It's literally the only thing you kids do better than adults, Pete." 

Peter laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still.. though. I don't know.."

Tony studied him for a long moment, his tone a tad bit gentler. "You've.. had a rough couple of months. And, I admit that I've probably made it worse because I don't know.. how to.. handle it?" 

Peter blinked, once, twice, clearly surprised. "Are you admitting you're in the wrong here?" 

Tony gave him a mocking gasp. "Don't push it, kid. That's one confession per decade." 

Peter smiled, a bit wider this time but still nervous, the dread in his stomach never leaving. 

After a moment, his Dad continued, quieter this time. "Look, I know.. I can.. I know I can be a bit.. I know you that you think that I'm treating unfairly in comparison to your siblings, which to be fair is.. true. It's just, Peter you look exactly like me. It's, I know I should be proud or whatever which I am- I am so proud of you kid. But I am terrified to fail you, even more than Harley and Morgan because they, they do have traits that come from me but not the way you do." 

It went quiet for a second. "I don't want you to think, that.. I love you any less than them, because I don't. I just don't know how to handle you, kid. At all, because you're too much like me. Without most of the crap I was doing when I was your age. I mean, Peter when I saw those pictures of you at the party.. I seriously thought that I failed as a father. Maybe I already did and- I'm sorry for that."

Peter felt a lump inside his throat as his eyes started to burn. "Is that why you practically ignored me since I don't know the day I was born? That's your excuse, dad? I look too much like you?" 

His Dad grimaced again, looking unsure on what to say. "I'm sorry." 

"Do you know how jealous I would get, Dad? Whenever I saw you with Harley?" Peter told him with a sniff. "I thought something was wrong with me and that's why you loved him more. " 

Tony's eyes widened in panic as he quickly shook his head. "No, no- Pete, there's nothing wrong with you, okay? It's me. I'm the asshole who- who let his thoughts get the better of him, alright? And.. and I'll try to better, okay? I love you both the same, I swear." 

His Dad sighed again. "I was.. well really it was Pepper who's been trying to convince me. But, I thought we could, both go to some kind of.. family therapist? Just us two, Pepper thought.. it might help. You haven't done anything wrong, Pete. I swear, its just me and my head whose fucked up." 

Peter kicked his foot lightly against the floor. "I'll.. think about it." 

Peter was gonna go nuts, someday soon. 

The city was slick with rain, glowing orange under the streetlights. As soon as Peter walked out of the workshop his Dad was in, he rushed to the hiding place he kept his suit at and left. So now, he was winging low between buildings, way too many thoughts inside his head and his ribs were already aching because of trying to help a cat stuck on a tree not even ten minutes earlier. 

Great. 

He should've just stayed in his room, Gosh why the fuck did he try to make civil conversation with his Dad. 

Peter landed on a rooftop near 12th and Baker, when something caught his eye, a flash of a very familiar blue from an alley below. It wasn't lighting. 

"Aw, come on." Peter muttered, crouching on the edge. "Can't you guys take a night off?" 

Two men stood near the side of a convenience store, the ground scorched beneath them. One held a riffle that hummed with the same eerie energy he'd seen before, from the ATM cheap avengers robbers with alien tech. 

Peters stomach twisted. "Great, more of these guys." 

He dropped down quietly, web shooters ready. "Hey! You guys got a permit for that laser death cannon or..?" 

Both men jerked toward him, one guy shot him a blast immediately. The blast seared through the air, narrowly missing Peter's shoulder. 

"Okay, no permit, got it!" He launched himself off the wall, webbing the first guys wrist and yanking him to the nearest trashcan. The weapon clattered to the ground with a hiss. 

"You're that weird ass spider guy!" 

Peter blinked, offeneded. "I really need to get better PR. It's Spider-Man, gosh how many times do I have to tell everyone that?" 

The second guy, swung a piece of glowing metal, a freaking blade and Peter ducked, flipping backward and firing two webs at the guy's feet. "Seriously though, where are you getting this weird alien stuff? Is it eBay?" 

The guy growled, pulling free with strength that startled Peter, so one guy is enhanced. Isn't this day just getting more awesome as time went by. He swung the blade again, the light of the metal reflecting in the rain. Peter dodged once, then twice, and on the third attempt he caught the mans wrist and twisted hard. 

The teen fired a web to disarm him, and didn't see or notice that the other guy just got up or the way the one in front of him was smirking. 

The first man lunged, something flashing in his hand, not the alien weapon, but.. something smaller and sharper. 

Pain hit him before his brain caught up. 

Peter gasped, stumbling backwards as a knife tore at his side. The world narrowed down to noise and sound, his heartbeat, and the metallic smell of blood he hated mixing with the wet weather. 

"Oh.. my god.." Peter mumbled, as the man took the knife again and Peter quickly pressed his hand to his wound. It was warm and sticky beneath his fingers, just when.. just when- 

"Dude, what the hell?" 

The guy just sneered. "Spider-Freak." 

Peters's vision blurred, he webbed both of them to the wall, harsh, quick and desperate. His breathing was coming in short, shallow and sharp breaths. 

"Y..you're under arrest for being a jerk. Both of you." He muttered, his voice thin. His knees nearly buckled as he fired a tracking web for the cops. 

Every swing felt heavy. 

And it felt like he barely even made it home. 

By the time he snuck back home, it was past three am. He didn't even realize how much time had passed. The Tower was silent at the most part. Peter collapsed to his knees, away from the rug that was in his room, because there was no way he was gonna let it get stained by his blood. 

He had already peeled off his mask before he had got home, his suit was beneath his hoodie he managed to change into before he got home. It clung to his skin, and the smell was making him nauseous, it was dark and damp and sticky..-

Peter could see how red his hand was. 

"Okay. Okay." he mumbled, forcing himself up again. "You're fine, you're fine, you're fine. I'm fine, I'm not gonna die. This is nothing just a small little cut thats a tiny bit too deep." 

He grabbed his phone that was lying on the nightstand next to his bed. He swiped it open with slippery fingers. 

Peter: harls???

Peter: u awake? 

Peter: pls tell me we have a first aid kit somewhere 

Peter: I know we do just not where 

Peter: I forgot

Peter: I'm too stupid to even think rn

Peter: harley? 

No response. 

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. 

This day just couldn't get any better, could it. 

"Great. Cool. Love that for me." 

Peter pressed his palm against his side, grimacing. He could feel the blood sweeping through the spandex. His healing factor usually worked quickly for bruises, was it different this time because it's a stab wound, then? 

Then his door burst open, and quickly shut and locked afterward. 

"Peter?" Harley let out, his voice showing how horrified he was. 

Peter turned, startled and nearly fell over. Harley was standing three feet away, hair sticking out, wearing some old MIT hoodie. His eyes went wide as soon as he saw Peter. 

"What the hell." 

"I uh.." Peter tried to smile but winced instead. "I had a rough night." 

Rough life would be more fitting.

Harley's eyes flickered down, panicked. "You're bleeding through your.. hoodie." 

"Technically I'm bleeding through the suit that's beneath the hoodie, Harls." Peter said weakly, trying to act casual. 

Harley froze. "Oh my god. Oh my god." 

He rushed forward, hands trembling as he grabbed the edge of Peter's hoodie, and lifted it. The red and blue underneath on the side was dark with blood. 

"Jesus, Pete." Harleys voice broke. "How bad is it?" 

Peter swallowed clearly dizzy. "Bad enough to ask you, well someone for help. So bad enough, I think?"

Harley scrambled to Peter's bathroom, which made the dread in his stomach bigger but the boy came out not even forty seconds later with the first aid kit in hand. "You.. you need a hospital. Medbay. Lets go to Medbay, right now..-" 

"Can't." Peter said slumping into the bed he now was sitting at because Harley made him get up from the ground. "They'll ask question and.. Dad'll find out." 

"Dad will find out that you're Spider-Man if you die, dude!" Harleys hands shook so badly he almost dropped the gauze. "Oh god, okay, okay- don't move. Don't fucking move, Peter. Don't move.. don't move." 

Peter tried to joke. "Y'know, you're not very reassuring for a guy holding a needle." 

"Shut up!" Harley told him, eyes glassy. "You're bleeding, Pete! This isn't funny!" 

Peter winced as Harley pressed gauze at the wound, the antiseptic stinging sharp enough to make his vision blurry again. "'m fine." he mumbled through his clenched teeth. "It's just a scratch." 

"You're leaking blood." Harley said, voice shaking with panic. "That's not a small scratch, dude." 

Despite the pain, Peter laughed. "You sound like Pepper." 

That shut Harley up. For a few seconds, all that filled the silence of the room was Peter's uneven breathing and Harleys frantic muttering as he managed to stitch him up. It was crooked, but careful. 

"You're an idiot." He whispered. 

Peter's head tilted, eyes half open. "'nd you're Harley, the best Harley, I know." 

"I'm the only Harley you know, dumbass." Harley answered and swallowed hard afterwards, he kept staring at Peter. Then he got up, grabbed a blanket and tossed it over Peter's shoulders before quietly turning off the light. 

Peter didn't even notice that he had fallen asleep. 

Harley stood there for another two minutes, to make sure he was breathing and not dead, only then did he leave the room. 

Chapter Text

The city was quiet today, the kind of quiet that came right after a storm. Water dropped from rooftops and puddles mirrored the streetlight. Peter crouched on the corner of a building, rain still sliding down his mask. Below him, a van idled in the alley. The same guys he saw a week ago, who were supposed to be in prison but whatever, they were unloading crates stamped faintly with the old Stark Industries logo, paint scratched but unmistakable SI. 

Peter started muttering to himself. "Great so either someone's stealing old tech from Dad or I'm about to die trying to find out." 

One of the dealers slammed the back doors shut. Peter's lenses narrowed. "Okay, no big deal, Spider-Man. Just three guys with powerful enough alien tech to vaporize a car. Totally a normal Tuesday night." 

The van started moving. Peter fired a web and launched after it, landing on a streetlamp, before swinging into the chase. The air was still wet, making his webs slip a little, and every time the van turned, he had to yank himself to keep balance. 

He whispered to himself. "This is a bad idea, right? Harley would kill me if he knew I was after the same guys again..." He sighed shaking his head slightly. 

The van finally stopped at the edge of the docks. Peter perched  behind a stock of containers, peering another small gap. The two men he had seen were there, joined by another, bigger and heavier presence, that made the two straighten up when he approached. 

Peter zoomed in, slightly grinning as he whispered. "Who's tall, scary and probably has three assault chargers? Oh perfect, the boss." 

The tall man opened a crate. Inside was a faint purple light that glowed, alien metal fused with human wiring. Chitauri, for sure. Peter recognized the tech immediately this time. This was Stark's tech, well used to be. His Dad's tech. 

He didn't even notice the van doors closing again, until the engine revved. 

"Oh, no, no, no, no, don't leave- wait!" 

Peter jumped without thinking, landing silently on the vans roof as it rolled away. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. The metal beneath him rattled as the vehicle bounced over potholes. 

"Okay, so, this is officially the stupidest thing I've ever done." he whispered again. "Actually, you know what no, pictures of me drinking getting leaked to the news is still first place." 

The van picked up speed. The teen clung tighter, trying to peek through the windshield, but all he could see were shadows and headlights. After what felt like forever, it slowed again, this time in what looked like a storage yard. 

He slipped down the side, crouching low as he found the back door slightly ajar. 

"Please don't be locked," He muttered, and eased it open. 

The inside was loaded with crates. Dozens of them. The glow from the alien cores painted the space in purples and blues. He reached for one, lifting it carefully. The energy pulsed faintly under his gloves. 

"Yep.. these guys are for sure not supposed to have these." 

Peter turned it over, spotting the engraved initials on a corner. S.I. 

"Great." he mumbled. "Now it's personal." 

A noise outside made him flinch. Voices coming closer. He panicked so he ducked into a crate, leaving the lid open just enough to breathe. 

Harley is so gonna kill him when he finds out. 

The back doors swung open, and boots thudded against the metal floor. 

One man started speaking. "We'll move this batch tomorrow. Boss doesn't want more attention after that Spider-Kid messed up up the ATM crew." 

Spider-Kid. 

Peter scowled faintly in the dark. "Spider-Man, thank you very much." he whispered to himself. 

They shut the doors again, and the van started moving. This was a stupid idea, a big one. The brunette exhaled when he realized he literally trapped himself. The ride stretched on, and exhaustion began to settle on. 

He lay there for who knows how long, before the motion finally stopped. Then came the loud clank of machinery, the sound of something locking, whirring and shifting. 

"Where....am I?" Peter mumbled. 

He crawled out, realizing too late that he wasn't in the freaking van anymore. Instead, he was in some massive facility, it looked weird. 

"Is this where they keep the alien stuff?" He was pretty sure he was still in New York, just not where. 

Gosh, he's so thankful that his Dad and Pepper are out of the country right now. 

Peter saw the doors, tried to open them but they were locked and if he broke them,.. 

So he's stuck. 

"You've gotta be kidding me." 

His phone was home, in his room, on his night stand. 

Great, love that. 

He webbed onto the wall, trying to find a way out, but the door seemed to be the only exist. 

Peter swung back towards the door, and pressed his hands against it. "Hey? Mr. Bad guy? Anyone out there?" 

Silence.

The teen sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Okay, cool, cool, cool. Trapped in a criminal warehouse. Full of old Stark tech weapons, thats just great love that for me. I'm totally fine." 

After what felt like ages, he spotted a small vent. Too small for anyone normal, but when was Peter ever normal? Perfect. He crawled up through it, muttering. "You know, everyone always say that being a superhero is awesome, its fun. They forget the part where you have to spend the night crawling through old dirty vents. Gosh, I feel like Clint."

When he finally made it outside, it was dawn. His ribs were aching, he had a huge headache and his brain was screaming at him. 

"Peter? I'm going to need you to trust me, okay?" Peter looked confused but nodded. 

She stroked his hair comfortingly giving him a smile. "You're going to be perfect."

He looked at his home, a bit worryingly. "But we didn't tell dad that we left."

"It's okay, I just have some business to do. Just follow me, it's going to be alright." 

Peter felt dread in his stomach building. "Okay, Ms. Laine." 

Peter tumbled onto the road, gasping for air at this point. His muscles ached, his hair was sticking to his forehead under his mask, and he was starving. 

"Okay." he wheezed, clutching his side as he tried to start breathing like a normal person. "that was officially the dumbest thing I've ever done." 

Peter sat on the sidewalk, hands on his knees, trying to think. 

The dealers, the alien guns, the stolen stark tech. There was someone dangerous enough to try to steal from Tony Stark, so someone with a grudge. 

"A lot of people have grudges against Dad, though." 

He sighed and straightened up. "Can't let it slide, though can I." 

By the time night fell again, Spider-Man was back on the rooftops. The city lights were painting the clouds orange and pink, and wind whipped onto his suit. 

He'd tracked the van, by using a bug he put one of the crates. the tracker blinked faintly on the small device he'd hacked, thankfully at least one thing went right with the whole van thing going on. 

The red dot stopped moving on the map. 

Warehouse district. Pier 43. 

"Of course it's a bloody warehouse again." Peter said to himself, groaning. "Why is it always the warehouses, gosh why can't one criminal be creative for once?" 

He swung to the location, landing silently on a crane. Below him, the van was there again. Same crew, of course.. expect this time, there was someone new. A tall lean man, black jacket, bald head, voice as sharp as a knife. 

"Move the gear," the man ordered. "We're flying tonight." 

Flying? 

Peter zoomed in his lenses. The man turned slightly, and Peter saw it, the strange mechanical wings folded behind him, metallic feathers catching light. 

"Oh," Peter whispered, his stomach twisting. "Flying makes sense now." 

The wings unfurled with a deep mechanical whine, and the man.. the Vulture, Peter guesses, hovored effortlessly above the ground. 

Peter gritted his teeth. "You're not stealing any more tech." 

He launched a web at the crate nearest to the van, pulling it out of their reach. The dealers shouted and the Vultures head snapped up. 

"Spider-Freak." he growled. 

Peter swallowed. "Uh.. a hello would've been nice and it's Spider-Man. Quick question, though. How'd you get that flying thing past TSA?" 

The man didn't answer, he just shot upward, turbines roaring. Peter yelped, leaping back as the gust of air nearly threw him off the beam. 

"Okay, no talking, straight to violence, eh?" 

Peter fired a web to swing after him, the air whipping around his head. the Vulture spun midair and slammed into him mid-swing. Peter crashed onto the ground with a grunt. 

His ribs were screaming. Peter scrambled up again, shooting another web, wrapping it around the Vultures wing. 

"Gotcha!" 

The man twisted sharply, yanking Peter upward instead. The web snapped, and Peter went tumbling through the air. His stomach lurched as he shot another line, barely catching the ledge of a billboard. 

He dangled for a second, panting.

"Okay." he gasped. "So maybe don't pick fights with a guy named after a bird when he can actually fly, I mean at least he's being creative, at least someone is being creative for once. That's good right..." 

The Vulture swooped again, grabbing Peter midair by the chest with a metal claw, what the fuck. 

"Stay out of my business, kid." the man growled. 

"Business? You're stealing my dad's-" 

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. His eyes widened. 

But the Vulture didn't seem to notice, or maybe he just didn't care. He flung Peter over the water, which made the panic in his chest rise. 

Peter screamed, twisting midair, as he shot webs but they caught nothing but air. 

The city lights reflected off the surface of the water before everything went black. 

Then- impact. 

Cold swallowed him whole. His chest burned as he sank, the weight of his suit dragging him down. He tried to move, but every muscle in his body was screaming in protest. 

No! No, No- come on, move. 

His fingers brushed against something solid, metal bars, chains. He fired a weak web, pulling himself up with whatever strength he had left. His lungs ached in pain. 

Then finally, air. 

He gasped pulling himself to the shore, coughing up water. His mask was wet, so freaking wet. His whole suit was wet. His arms were trembling so badly he could barely hold himself up. 

He just almost died. 

Peter almost drowned. 

Peter blinked, his eyes widening at the realization at what just happened. 

After what felt like ages, trying to catch his breath he swung away, to somewhere that looked like.. a playground? The teen sat down. 

His whole body was still shaking, from exhaustion, from the adrenaline and from the sharp sting in his ribs. 

Maybe he broke something. 

Peter had barely enough time to catch his breath once again, when a familiar sound arrived in his ears. 

The sound of a suit. 

His dad's suit. 

Which made no sense because he and Pepper were out of the country, and he was pretty sure they took Morgan with them as well it was just him and Harley at home which is why it wasn't a pain to try to sneak out the last three days. 

Peter's head shot up. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no." 

This day just couldn't get any worse, could it. 

From the darkness above, a gleam of red and gold cut through the mist. The Iron Man armor landed in front of him with a metallic thud. 

Peter froze. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" came Tony Stark's voice, sharp and echoing through the armor. 

Peter's brain short circuited. 

His dad was yelling at him. 

Technically, his dad was yelling at Spider-Man. 

So not at Peter. 

Oh gosh. 

"I..uh.." Peter's voice cracked embarrassingly. "Cleaning.. cleaning up the city. Yep, that was what I was doing." 

"Cleaning up..? Underoos, you nearly drowned. My AI notified me to tell me that your vitals dropped for two whole minutes!" Tony yelled. 

"Do you have a tracker in my suit?" Peter asked instead. 

He could hear his dad sigh. "I have everything in your suit, including a heater." 

Peter gasped as he felt his suit produce warm. "Woah, thanks." 

"Do you realize how dangerous this was? You're lucky they didn't shoot a hole into you." 

Peter's heart thudded, his Dad was never angry at him when he was Spider-Man, well actually Spider-Man and Iron Man haven't talked in ages, actually. 

He did send Happy a message because of the weapons though. 

Peter swallowed, hard. "Look, Mr. Stark, I was just trying to help.. I mean you said I could-" 

"I said help with small stuff." Tony snapped. "Like a cat stuck in a tree. Maybe stopping a bike thief! Not taking on a guy with alien jet engines strapped to his back!" 

Peter shrank a little, frowning from under his mask. "Yeah.. okay, but he's stealing your tech! He's using your stuff to hurt people! I can't just look away from that fact!" 

Tony sighed, the kind of sigh that Peter heard way too many times, and all he could think was about the conversation they had last week. "I've got people handling that. Professionals. You just stay out of it." 

"Professionals?" Peter blurted. "You mean the Avengers? You're not even in-" 

He stopped himself just in time. 

Tony, even though wasn't here, Peter could feel him tilting his head suspiciously. "I'm what?" 

"What I meant to say was that you're in incredibly good shape for your age, sir." Peter said weakly. 

There was a long pause. 

Tony blinked slowly. "Okay, Spidey, here's the deal. No, the Avengers are not handling this because firstly we have other problems right now and secondly this is a bit below their pay grade. Anyway, now go home because I'm sure you live with your parents or something, stop trying to play adult, stay low and maybe next time I'll let you tag along supervised. Got it, Underoos?" 

Peter deflated a bit. "Got it, Mr. Stark." 

"Good." Tony let out, "You've got potential, kid. Don't waste it by trying to get yourself killed." 

And with that the suit shot off into the sky, flying away, leaving Peter alone again. 

He rubbed at his mask and started speaking to himself. "Yeah, sure. Go home, Peter and act like everything's fine." Peter got up and winced as he felt the sting at his ribs. 

Fuck, this was gonna be a long night, won't it. 

Chapter Text

Peter didn't know how they did it, but they did. 

Confusing start, right? Let's start from the beginning shall we. 

Peter has been ignoring his friends, for two weeks now. Not on purpose, well that's a lie it kind of was on purpose. He just didn't have the energy to lie to them anymore with the shit thats been going on with his dad, Spider-Man and just his life really. Every time Ned texted him, he left him on delivered, every time Harry attempted to talk to him in school he found a valid excuse and ignored him and MJ was the worst of all, but he couldn't even try to answer her and she's scary. 

All three of them had to hate him in some kind of way by now. 

So when he finally swung back to the Tower, and sneaked into the penthouse with his suit still on, he didn't expect anyone to care that he had been missing all day. His Dad, Pepper and Morgan were still in India and wouldn't come home for another three days. Harley knew about him anyway, and it was awfully quiet at home. 

"Peter, you need to trust me, okay? Just-" Peter started to cry, the tears leaving his eyes shaking his head. 

"No! I wanna go home- I don't like needles!" 

"For fucks sake can't you get him to shut up? You were told to bring him to us knocked out, Sabrina. Did you think we want to hear this brats crying all day. I don't give a fuck if he's expensive just because he's Tony Stark's bra-" 

Ms. Laine hit the man, making Peter go quiet. "Boris, don't act like I can't get rid of you easily. You're going to be nice to him and act like a fucking daycare teacher if you don't want me to cut your balls off." 

The man, Boris? His face went pale for a second and he glared at Peter before he stormed off the room. 

"I wanna go home." Ms. Laine looked sad in a way. 

"Don't worry, Peter. I'll have you back home, before it gets dark, okay? I just have to..do something before that real quick." Ms. Laine took something out of her pocket and turned the rooms lights off. 

"I'll be back, don't move from where you are." Peter nodded, not even a few minutes after he was hiding under the table his hands over his ears as- 

BANG! 

Peter sighed, trying to remove the memory out of his mind. When he finally made it to his room, he shut the door behind him with another tired sigh. The moment the lock clicked, he tugged off his wet mask, shaking off his sweaty hair. 

His ribs were throbbing, and for a second he thought the pain was making him hallucinate. 

Because on his bed sitting, were Ned, MJ and Harry.

And standing beside him was a guilty looking Harley. 

"....You've got to be kidding me." he muttered, shutting his eyes shut. 

Harley grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck as all three stared at Peter with wide eyes. "Okay, before you freak out-" 

"Did you let them in here?" Peter snapped, voice rising. 

"How was I supposed to know you were gonna walk in with your freaking suit on, dude! You never do that! Also I only let them in because Harry texted me that you've been also doing depressingly worried shit also at school, so what's that about, huh?" Harley shot back while gesturing with his hands. 

"Since when do you have Harrys number also why are you all in my room!" 

Harry shrugged. "I found him cute at a gala once, but don't worry, Pete. You're much cuter so don't be insecure." 

That managed to shut everyone up. 

For about three, very long, very awkward minutes no one said a thing. MJ stared at Peter while blinking slowly, Ned's mouth was halfway open as he looked at Peter with awe in his face, and Harry looked like he said the wrong thing and as if he discovered his favorite celebrity was a serial killer. 

Harley was side eyeing the door but Peter send him a glare so he'd shut up. 

Then of course, Harry, spoke first. 

"Huh." he said squinting his eyes. "Guess superpowers really do run in the family, huh, Stark Junior?" 

Peter groaned. "Harry..-" 

Harry ignored him, grinning. "Like, what happened? Your Dad have spider DNA or something? Spider-serum? No wait forget that- I have something way better. Spider-Sperm?" 

"Harry!" Peter nearly shouted, his face turning Scarlett. 

"What? Pete, it's a reasonable question!" Harry said, laughing now. "I'm just saying.. both you and.. Har.. Harold.. no thats not it.. H- something both have Tony Stark genes in your body, what if Tony Stark has some kind radioactive sperm.. or something." 

"Oh my god." Harley muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "I didn't need to hear that sentence about my dad ever in my lifetime and for your information you OSCORP kid, my name is Harley. We met several times before this!" 

Ned tried to choke on a laugh but failed miserably. "Spider-Sperm.. I'm sorry Peter but thats so-" 

"Stop saying that!" Peter groaned, glaring at all of them. 

MJ raised an eyebrow. "Do you bite people now? Do you have venom and fangs?" 

"What.. no..? I mean I don't think so?" 

"That explains so much and how you managed to get jacked so suddenly." MJ pointed out. 

"Oh, right thats probably why he stopped wearing his glasses as well! He always told me that contacts make his eyes itch!" Ned added on defensively. 

This was gonna be a long day. 

The elevator doors slid shut behind MJ, Ned and Harry, leaving the penthouse thick with silence. Peter stood near the window, now changed his hair still damp since he showered. The city lights shimmered below, blurring through the glass as if they were too tired to stay sharp. 

Harley hadn't left, he was sitting at the edge of Peter's bed, eyeing the teddy bear, Ms. Laine once gave Peter on his 6th birthday. 

Neither of them spoke for a while, it was pretty awkward. 

Then Harley said quietly. "You really scared them, you know, your friends. I thought it was a plot to kill me once they arrived but nope, they were just worried. You should be glad dad's not home or else he would have had your head." 

Peter let out a weak laugh. "They'll live. They're overdramatic like that."

"Yeah." Harley answered quietly, his smile going away. "But you keep disappearing like that, one day you won't come back." 

That shut Peter up, the quietness after that felt heavier. 

Then Harley exhaled, rubbed a hand over his face, and spoke up again suddenly. "I've.. I've been thinking. About, a lot of things actually. About when we stopped being close like we used to be." 

Peter glanced over but didn't answer. Harley's voice wasn't teasing, or angry. It was, well quiet but with a lot of cautiousness. 

"I think it started when Dad went missing." Harley paused before adding on. "You remember that?" 

Peter nodded once. "Yeah." 

Harley's jaw clenched. "You didn't cry once. Not once. I did, god knows how much I sobbed, Mom did, Happy cried, everyone did.. hell Morgan wasn't even born yet and somehow she probably felt it. But you-" he shook his head. "You just sat there, calm as ever, saying he'd come back over and over."

Peters voice dropped to a whisper. "He did come back, though." 

"Harley? I had a bad dream." It was quiet for about two seconds. 

"Go away and bother Ms. Laine with your problems, since you seem to like her more than our own Dad," 

Harley studied him for a moment, then he looked away. "You scared me back then too, you know. You always scare me a little, like always so I don't know why I was so shocked to find out that you freaking Spider-Man." 

Peter frowned. "Why? What do you mean by that, Harls?" 

"Because weird things happen to you, Pete. Like all the time." Harley's voice was trembling a bit now, quieter but far sharper. "Do you remember the time when you disappeared with that weird ass nanny?" 

Ms. Laine was trying to comfort him but there was so- so much blood.. "Peter, listen to me. It's going to be alright, I would never let anything happen to you. Not while your Mary's child, I would never forgive myself, do you understand?" 

Peter sniffed and nodded. "I just need you to stay as quiet as you can, just like when we used to play the quiet game, okay?" 

"Okay, Ms. Laine." 

"SABRINA!" 

Peter froze. 

"Yeah," Harley said bitterly, eyes unfocused. "You were ten, you know. Gone for a whole week and a half- I know because I counted those days. No cells, no trace, nothing. Dad was losing his mind, Mom was pregnant and didn't know how to try to support him and I.. I didn't sleep for days, and thats not fair to you either because at that point I stopped talking to you and it's so fucked up because I knew that you were the odd one out in our family I knew the way Dad would look when someone said you look so much like him and I did nothing, nothing, Peter." 

Peter's chest tightened, biting his lip. "Harley.." 

"No, no- let me finish." Harley cut in. "You know how weirded out we were when she just showed up looking like a mess, like crazy shit happened to her or something you were also wearing some crazy shit like some oversized jumper that was practically for adults. You were asleep in her arms, and dad was yelling like so much, but she- I swear to god she just tells him straight to his face 'I quit.'. Dad froze and she walked past him went into your room tucked you in and told you something I don't know I followed her but I didn't hear shit because I was panicking. And then she just left. Like Dad ran after her, security as well but she just vanished into thin air." 

Peter swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt way too small. 

Harley leaned forward, elbows on knees. "You scared the shit out him. Out of me, anyway. We had no idea what happened to you. And when you woke up.. you just started crying. But you didn't-" 

"I didn't talk about it I know." Peter finished the sentence off quietly. 

Harley looked at him. "You never talked about it, Pete. You still don't, and I know Dad gave you a therapist or something but even there you didn't say anything. Dad let it go eventually, but god, Peter what the fuck happened? It's been years and you still don't talk about it, like at all. I know I'm a huge dick, and Dad is as well because he worries so much about you but he doesn't know how to talk to you. Like at all, it's a talent of his in some way." 

Peter didn't answer. His gaze drifted towards the window again, eyes distant and unreadable. "I don't remember." he said after a while. "Not really, anyway." 

It wasn't entirely true. 

There were flashes, that were too bright and too loud, a woman's voice telling him not to look as she put a hand over his eyes, the hum of a car and someone stroking his face softly. Then, there were also bad flashes, like men, weird people smiling at him while Peter would cry and the blonde woman would try to comfort him. 

Then there was nothing. 

Harley didn't press further, he just sat there. He was breathing through his nose, fighting off frustration that was building in his chest. 

"I guess," He spoke up, finally. "I just wanted you to know, that I'm sorry. I get why Dad always goes nuts whenever you do shit, I mean weird shit always manages to find you, Peter. You've always been a mystery in some way, especially to dad."

Peter turned to him, offering him a tired and weak smile. "Maybe it's because I like it that way, ever thought of that?"

Harley let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's still annoying as hell." 

The car was fast, really fast and Ms. Laine kept staring at the car mirror.

"Where are we going?" 

She just smiled. "No where important, mini boss." 

"Did you know my mom?" 

The woman sighed dramatically, shaking her head with a crooked grin. "If I knew her? Gosh, what question you got there, Pete, but yes I did know you Mom. Mary, her name was Mary. She was smart, really, smart but also really really stupid."

"How can she be both?" 

"I don't know, mini boss, you tell me." 

Chapter Text

Peter hated therapy. 

Peter had fought thieves, cats, criminals with weird alien guns and a guy in a mechanical bird suit that almost drowned him to death, but nothing, absolutely nothing, was more terrifying than sitting in a beige room that smelled faintly of lavender and cheap disinfectant. 

He sat on one end of a couch, arms crossed, hood up despite Pepper telling him, "Don't wear that inside, Sweetheart.". Across from him sat his Dad, one leg crossed over the other, a bit pale in the face and looking the exact same way Peter was feeling. 

The therapist, a calm looking woman in her forties with a kind smile and a way too gentle tone smiled softly at both of them. "It's nice to meet you two, Mr. Stark. Peter." 

"Likewise." Tony answered smoothly, like this was some kind of business meeting. "I er, thought a lot about well.. stuff. And Pepper, I admit she was the one who thought about this and said it would be good for both of us. So here we are, bonding."

Peter tried everything in his might not to grimace or to cringe, he didn't even agree to go to therapy.. he literally told him that he'd think about it but well whatever. 

The teen didn't look up but he gave both of them a tight smile. "Yep, yeah. Great." 

The therapist watched the two carefully, as she nodded slowly. "Well, my name is Liana Smith, and why don't we start by talking on why you're both here?" 

Tony gestured towards him. "You first, kid." 

Peter's head snapped up. "Me? You're the one who signed us up for this!" 

"Correction," Tony said. "Pepper signed us up. I just didn't argue much this time. I'm growing mature, you know?" 

Mrs Smith gave a polite and patient smile. "It's alright. Peter, why don't you tell me about how you feel about being here?" 

"I don't." Peter muttered. "Feel about it, I mean." 

"Ah." She nodded, jotting something down on her clipboard that managed to make Peter even more anxious and by the looks of it his Dad was feeling the same way. 

Tony peeked over. "Whats that? You writing down that my kid's emotionally repressed? Trust me, we've known that fact for years." 

"Dad," Peter glared at him. "Can you not?" 

Mrs. Smith smiled faintly. "Tony, let's give Peter a chance to explain, shall we? Peter why do you feel that way towards this?" Gosh, he hated therapy. 

Peter groaned. "There's nothing to explain! You just-" He stopped himself, jaw tightening. "You just want me to talk and fix whatever has been going on for well ages because you feel guilty now, or something." 

That silenced the room, the only sound being the click of a pen while Mrs. Smith went back to writing something on that damn clipboard. 

Tony blinked, his mouth parting slowly. "Guilty?" 

Peters voice came out quieter. "You didn't care about therapy before." 

The woman looked between them. "Before?" 

"Peter, it's okay to talk about what happened. It's why I'm here, I'm here to help you." The strange man said with a way too gentle smile. 

"I told you already, I don't remember. I'm fine." 

Tony hesitated. "He's talking about when he was ten, well ten to eleven." 

"Oh," she said softly. "are you talking about the time he was missing and afterwards?" 

Peter's shoulders tensed. 

Tony looked down at his hands, fingers curling slowly. "Yeah, er, that." 

Mrs. Smith nodded, the smile never fading. "You sent him to therapy soon after he was- well when he came back, am I correct to assume that?" 

Tony's jaw flexed and he looked uncomfy. "Yeah, well.. he didn't exactly participate. Just sat there like he was in witness protection. Wouldn't say a word for six sessions straight and the sessions after he would just-" He stopped pausing as he looked back to his hands. "The poor guy I hired retired two months later and moved to Vermont of all places." 

Peter muttered. "Maybe he hated therapy too, wouldn't be surprised if he did." 

Tony huffed out a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "God, you're impossible." 

The therapist interjected gently, "Peter, why do you think it's so hard to talk about what happened during the time you were missing?" 

The brunettes voice came out tight. "Because I don't remember." 

His Dad finally looked up sharply. "Still?" 

Peter turned towards him. "You think I don't want to remember? You think I haven't tried?" His voice cracked slightly as he frowned, its not like he was lying he only remembers bits and pieces. "All I remember is waking up home and everyone acting crazy, you looked at me like I was something to be fixed. I was fine then and I'm fine now." 

The room went silent again. 

Tony stared at him, all his sarcastic shields gone for once. "That's not what I thought," he said quietly. "You scared the hell out of me, Pete. I just wanted to make sure that you're okay even though- I was, well am a shitty father." 

"I was okay." Peter said, but it didn't look convincing. 

"Yeah?" Tony asked, eyes narrowing. "Then why did you suffer with Insomnia until you were twelve, hm? Not to mention the attacks you had. Pete I might be a shitty Dad but I'm not stupid enough to notice those kinds of things. You're my kid, I'm supposed to..well you know what I mean." 

Peter opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning and crossing his arms. 

Mrs. Smith finally spoke up again, gently steering the silence. "Peter, sometimes when something traumatic happens, the mind protects itself by closing those memories off. It's not your fault if you can't remember, it's simply your mind protecting you in a way. But maybe you can tell us how it felt. Even if it's just one word." 

Peter thought for a long moment, staring down at his shoes. 

Finally, he said, very quietly. 

"Cold." 

His Dad looked at him, a bit startled in a way. "Cold?" 

Peter nodded. "Like.. not the outside cold, just inside. Like I knew I wasn't supposed to be there." Peter knows the feeling, he still feels it, the awkward feeling of loneliness clashing together with him being anxious and cold. 

It went silent again, the therapist wrote something down again in her clipboard. 

It was awkwardly quiet for ages, both Peter and his Dad avoiding to look at the other until Mrs. Smith finally spoke up again. 

She leaned forward, her voice steady and quiet. "Cold," she repeated. "that seems lonely."

Peter's eyes flicked up, teeth biting the inside of cheek. "It was." 

His Dad shifted in his seat, his knee bouncing restlessly. "He was gone for almost two whole weeks. We had, we had a lot of people searching. The police, FBI, even-" he stopped himself with a pained look. "I didn't sleep." 

Peter scoffed, not looking up. "That's rich." 

"Whats that supposed to mean?" 

"You never sleep." 

Tony frowned. "Peter-" 

"No really," Peter said, his voice rising a little, licking his lip. "You're always in your lab working on something, at meetings, or halfway across the world. That's not if you're not doing something thats gonna get you killed." Peter admits that the last part is a bit ironic but whatever. "You didn't even notice I was gone the first day, I know because Harley told me so don't even try to lie." 

Tony froze. His jaw clenched, but he didn't try to deny it. 

Mrs. Smith gave a careful nod. "Tony, it's okay to acknowledge that." 

The older man exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. I didn't, not right away. We figured it out the next morning since.. well you were nowhere to be seen and Happy was in a hurry that day. So Pepper tried calling that fu- that nanny of yours but she was nowhere to be seen and neither were you. So. But yeah that's, that's on me." 

Peter's throat tightened. "It's not like, I wasn't mad about it then and I'm not mad about it now." 

"Could've fooled me." Tony muttered, 

"I was scared," Peter snapped suddenly after overhearing what his Dad said to himself, the words bursting out before he could stop them. "I didn't know where we were, or why we didn't go home and-" He swallowed hard, fingers twisting in the hem of the sleeve. "She said we were safe. But she was lying." 

"You okay, mini boss?" Ms. Laine asked as she crouched down to look at Peter who was still hiding under the table, sniffing and clearly mad. 

"That was, there were gun shots. I'm not dumb, Ms. Laine and you have blood on your clothes." 

Ms. Laine smiled, then sighed dramatically as she crawled under the table and sat next to Peter. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. But there were bad guys, you know how your Dad fights off villains and stuff?" 

Peter's eyes widened. "Are you a superhero too?" 

"No, Pete. I am way cooler, but the coolest superhero I ever met was Mary." 

"Mary?" 

She smiled again, it was crooked this time and she avoided the question. "C'mon, let's go. You want cheeseburgers or tacos?" 

Tony's head shot up. "What?" 

Peter froze, his eyes wide he didn't even realize that he said the last part out loud. He looked away quickly. "Forget it." 

"No," His Dad said firmly, leaning forward. "You said she was lying. About what, Pete?" 

Mrs. Smith raised a hand gently. "Tony-" 

But his Dad didn't stop. "What happened? Did someone hurt you? Did she hurt you?" 

Peter shut his eyes, his jaw locking. "It's.. stop asking." 

"Pete-" 

"Stop!" 

The shout cracked through the room like a whip. Peter was breathing hard, eyes glassy and fingers digging into the couch cushion. 

Tony's mouth opened, then closed again like he was unsure on what to say. "I'm just trying to understand, Peter. You haven't said a single word about what happened in those- you haven't said anything." 

Peter laughed bitterly. "Thats the problem, Dad. You never understand. You just fix things. You throw money at them, or tech, or whatever. But you can't just fix whatever this is." 

His Dad's face faltered, the words hit him hard and in way Peter didn't feel guilty about it for once. 

Mrs. Smith cut in gently, voice firm but calm. "Peter, it's okay. You don't have to explain what happened. But what you just said was really brave." 

Peter blinked, confused. "Brave?" 

"Yes," She slowly. "It takes courage to admit when someone or something hurt you, most people think of it as a weakness." 

"But," He paused for a second. "Mrs. Laine never hurt me." 

Tony's face looked pinched, like he wanted to say something but didn't. 

"But someone else hurt you? Something must've happened in those days you were missing for you to say you didn't feel safe, Peter." 

Peter went quiet, licking his lip and fidgeting with his fingers. His Dad looked like he was unable to say what he really wanted to say. 

The therapist looked between them, scribbling something down on her notepad. "I think we can pause this topic for a moment. Peter, thank you for being honest. Tony, maybe you could tell Peter what you hope comes out of this?" 

His Dad blinked, caught off guard. "What I hope?" 

"Yes. Why you're really here." 

He was quiet for a while, his usual bravado stripped down. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough around the edges. 

"I just.. want to stop feeling like I'm failing at this." he said. "At being his Dad, because I know the reasons I'm being so shitty- god. I keep thinking if I build enough, it'll make up for everything I missed. But It never does and that's not fair to Peter, because to the most degree our relationship turned out this way because of me and I'll be damned if I don't at least try to fix it in some way." 

Peter froze, he didn't know how to feel about that. 

Mrs. Smith nodded slowly, adding something into her notepad. "And Peter, what do you want?" 

Peter hesitated, looking down at his hands again. "..I just want him to stop feeling ashamed and disappointed at me." 

That landed like a gut punch, and Peter regretted it almost immediately after he said it. 

Tony's eyes softened, and he looked guilty. He looked at Peter for a little while until he finally started to speak. 

"Kid, I'm not ashamed or disappointed at you." 

"You look just like Tony, it's creepy at this point." Peter smiled tightly, he stared at his Dad who swallowed hard and looked away quickly. 

Peter didn't believe it, obviously. But for once, he didn't try to argue back either. 

The session ended quietly after that. Mrs. Smith suggested monthly if not weekly appointments, something on working to rebuild trust that was never there before anyway. Neither of them said no though. 

As they out of the office, side by side but not quite together, Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

"Well," He said. "that was... productive." 

Peter shrugged. "I guess." 

Tony glanced sideways at him. "You hungry?" 

Peter blinked, once then twice, clearly surprised. "What?" 

"I'm bribing you with food." Tony explained. "Therapy exhausting. You also look far too thin, gosh you really need to eat more, Pete. Cheeseburgers?"

Peter rolled his eyes, but there was the faintest of a ghost smile tugging on his mouth. "Fine, but I'm choosing the place, the food we eat whenever you chose is way too greasy." 

Tony grinned. "Deal." 

"Peter, before I go.." Ms. Laine started eyeing the door, it was obvious that Harley was eavesdropping but Peter was sleepy and she knew that but.. 

"Don't tell anyone what you saw, okay?" Peter nodded, she kissed his forehead stroked his hair one last time and then shut the lights off. 

"Good night, mini boss." Peter doesn't know why her voice cracked but he clearly felt sadder afterwards. 

Chapter Text

Peter is currently stuck in a government building and just realized his suit had an AI by talking to himself. 

Confusing start, right? 

So, here's how it started.. 

Peter didn't mean to bring the suit with him, he really didn't, especially since it had a tracker in it, so what did he do? He got rid of the tracker with Ned's help and brought the suit with him. 

He told himself that this trip would be a break, from home, from the weird therapy session he had with his Dad, from all the chaos that happened recently. But, he also knew that the weapon dealers were currently in Washington and thats why he joined his team for the trip even though he almost quit it. 

It was nice at first, all peaceful and quiet and he felt normal for once. 

Like the time before the spider bite. 

Yeah, nice. But that only lasted for ten whole minutes. 

The bus ride was long. 

Ned was talking a mile a minute about the alien tech, Peter regretted telling them about that so much and the web fluid Peter was using. MJ had her earbuds in, pretending not to listen. Harry was half asleep against the window and muttering something to himself. 

And Liz.. Liz was three seats ahead, laughing softly, the sunlight catching her hair. Peter tried not to look, both of them hadn't talked much since the thing with the leaked pictures happened. 

Though she did smile at him yesterday. 

And during practice. 

Maybe he could delay the Spider-Man stuff just for a little while and at least attempt to talk to her, they did kiss after all or maybe Liz was just drunk and did it because she wasn't feeling right in her mind. 

Peter frowned, thought about delaying the superhero stuff going on for once but then looked at his bag which had the suit inside. 

The next morning, he woke up to his phone buzzing from messages from Harley. 

Harley: Don't do anything stupid 

Peter: define stupid for me 

Harley: I know ur planning something, you had that expression on your face that tells me something is gonna happen 

Harley: Don't do anything that ends up with you getting shot, stabbed or in the worst possible scenario killed 

Peter: Harley 

Peter: That rules out all my hobbies tho 

Harley: not funny 

Harley: don't die just stay next to the Osborn kid 

Harley: actually no I don't trust him stay next to that scary girl 

Peter: his name is harry you know that 

Harley: Do you hear that? It's me saying.. wow.. I don't care. 

Harley was probably right in a way, last time he tried to stop the alien weapon dealers he almost drowned. But it's not like he could just ignore it happening, not when Ned fucking stole a piece of alien tech he hid in his room and took it with him to Washington. 

That's when everything started to spiral. 

They were at the competition site when Ned showed Peter the glowing piece of alien tech, the same kind of core that he'd seen multiple times over. 

"Ned," Peter started, his eyes a bit wide trying his best not to be angry. "Why did you take that.. I mean, didn't I hide that in my room for a reason?" 

"C'mon, Peter.. it's so cool." Ned said grinning. "Besides, I don't think MJ or Harry saw this yet maybe we could show them-" 

Peters stomach dropped. "Ned. That thing could explode, you know I saw dudes literally vaporize a car with this, right?" 

"Dude, thats.. awesome." 

Before Peter could even respond, the bell rang, and they were shuffled to the decathlon. Peter couldn't focus. His eyes kept darting towards Ned's backpack, frustration growing. He could feel the pulse inside the bag that should not be here. 

The moment the round ended, Peter made an excuse and slipped out. 

Peter found himself at the Department of Damage Control building, a huge echoing warehouse.. again was full of confiscated Chitauri and Stark tech. His plan was really easy actually, sneak in, find out who was selling these weapons, and sneak out before anyone noticed him. 

Simple, right? Expect the door locked behind him. 

And then the lights flickered off. 

"Okay." Peter muttered trying not to panic as he spun around. "Thats.. this is great, yep. Not terrifying at all, clearly." 

The suits voice spoke suddenly, all calm and cheerful. "Hello, Spider-Man. I'm your enhanced combat assistance system." 

Peter nearly jumped and fell down. "What the.. you talk?" 

"Yes, would you like to name me, Spider-Man?" 

He blinked, sat down and started to think. "Let me think, Laine? No thats weird, Sabrina I mean that is her name but it would be weird to call my AI after my nanny and wouldn't Dad figure it out.. Liz? No that's creepy. Oh I got it, Karen! After planktons wife!" 

"Hello, Spider-Man. My name is Karen." 

Well, Peter should've expected that in some kind of way, there was always an AI around while he was growing up, it was JAVRIS in the past and now FRIDAY. His Dad really couldn't live without one, can he. 

"So, Karen. Got any idea to get me out of here?" He asked, practically mumbling while rubbing the back of his neck. 

"The doors are on a timed security lock. Estimated time remaining: two hours and twenty-six minutes." 

Peter groaned, throwing his head back. "Perfect. Totally fine, this is totally fine, gosh I hate warehouses.. here I am, Karen. Stuck in a government building in a whole other state and talking to an AI to keep me company." 

"Would you like me to play you some music while you wait, Spider-Man?" 

"..Yeah, sure, whatever. Surprise me." 

Soft jazz began to play. It sounded like something his Dad would listen to in the lab. Peter leaned back against the crate, and stared at the ceiling. "You've got to be kidding me." he muttered half laughing. ""Even the AI listens to his freaking playlists." 

Stuck in a building. 

Didn't that seem familiar. 

"Mrs. Laine?" She looked at him, sweat on her forehead and her usually neat hair  a bit messy.

"Yes, Peter?" 

"Are we stuck in here?" He asked, frowning. 

"Well.. I wouldn't say that but sure, I guess. Yes, but not for much longer, mini boss." Mrs. Laine responded her hand quickly going into her pocket when she heard footsteps. 

"Thats what you told me ages ago as well, though." She rolled her eyes and gestured him towards the table. 

"Again? I hate hiding down there!" The woman gave him one of her looks, so Peter pouted and waddled to the table and hid under it. 

"Sabrina! hands up we've got you now! Jetzt! " Peter furrowed his brows, not understanding the last word but Mrs. Laine had a slight smirk on her face. 

BANG! 

She shot at the man, who quickly fell down, she shot another two shots dodging whatever was shot towards her. Mrs. Laine walked towards the now bleeding man and crouched down. 

"Hättest du sie nur nicht getötet, hm? Dann wär all das gar nicht erst passiert."  

"Sabrina.." 

Mrs. Laine got up, pointed at the mans head. "Peter, close your eyes."

BANG! 

Just that this time, was less deaths and shots and no languages included that he couldn't understand. 

It was lonely though. 

Hours later, which really felt like ages, he finally managed to break out. Peter slipped through a ventilation shaft, again, and landed somewhere outside the city. He was sweaty, dusty and completely done with his life.

He checked his phone, grimacing when it finally had a signal again, there were multiple texts from Ned, Harry, MJ.. and Liz.. but also over thirteen messages from Harley and,, he didn't even want to see what his Dad had send him.

Peter shut his eyes, thumb hovering over the screen before shoving it into his pocket. He didn't have the energy to answer anyone.

What he did know though, is that it was morning now because outside was the sun. 

So, he guesses that people noticed that he went missing. 

Fuck. 

He was still too exhausted when the explosion hit. 

The top of the Washington Monument was burning, and his teammates were inside the freaking elevator. 

Great, awesome. 

Peter didn't even think, he just moved. 

The sound tore through the air, followed by screams and the distant shrieks of sirens. 

He ran, then he started to climb. 

The Washington monument was practically burning, people were inside, people could die. 

His fingers dug into the glass, breath sharp in his throat. 

Every inch he climbed made his ribs ache with pain, the ones that hadn't really healed yet, and Karen was not helping him or calming him down in any kind of way. 

"Suit power at seventy-three percent." Karen chipped in his ear. 

"Thank's, thats real comforting, Karen. Just what I needed to know." he muttered. "Real ego boost you gave me there." 

"You're welcome, Spider-Man." 

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed as he kept climbing up. 

When he finally arrived at the elevator, MJ voice was faintly to be heard. 

"We're stuck!" Alongside other people also screaming for help. 

"I know! I know, I'm coming!" Peter yelled, his heart in his throat. "Just.. don't panic! Don't panic! You guys are going to be.. alright! It's gonna be fine, everything's gonna be fine.." Peter didn't know if he was trying to convince them or him at this point. 

The elevator plummeted. His webs caught, stretching under the weight, and the whole world seemed to stop for one impossible second. 

Then it held. 

Peter gasped, chest burning. "Okay," he said, voice shaking. "That sucked." 

Liz's eyes widened. "Spider-Man?" 

He grinned weakly through the mask. "The one and only." 

Peter's phone wouldn't stop buzzing. 

He'd ignored it for hours by now, letting the vibrations rattle against the side of his backpack while the rest of the team piled back on the bus. Peter sat at the very back, forehead pressed to the window, watching the reflections of lights outside, His hands were still trembling a bit, his ribs ached. 

Harry sat next to him this time, scrolling through his own phone. 

"You are so screwed, junior." He told him not even looking up.

Peter groaned. "Thanks, I gathered that." 

"No seriously, Mr. Harrington called your Dad when we didn't find you even though Ned tried all kind of excuses but well.. they weren't really believable, your Dad freaked out like completely I never saw Mr. Harrington get so pale so fast. He probably thought you were dead or something, even your brother H..har.. well you know what his name is anyway, he texted me, freaking out. I think he was very close to telling your dad the bug secret you keep having."

Peter shut his eyes and mumbled to himself. "Oh my god."

His phone lit up again, and this time he actually clicked on the messages.

Harry (5 unread messages) : Dude where are you?

Harry: Mr. Harringtons planning to call your Dad and maybe even the cops

Harry: are you good, mate?

MJ (1 unread message) : Where are you?

Ned (6 unread messages) : Dude

Ned: Are you safe? 

Ned: pls reply 

Harley (21 unread messages): Dude, you're an idiot. 

Harley: You're actually an idiot. 

Harley: Dad's freaking out and is practically pacing holes into the floor 

Harley; this is what I mean when I say weird shit happens to you 

Harley: Peter, are you fucking with us or are you actually missing rn? 

Harley: Peter, please answer. 

Dad (14 unread messages): Peter James Stark. 

Dad: Your teacher just called me to inform me that you ditched the group and he is unable to find you. 

Dad: Where are you? 

Dad: Peter, call me

Dad: Right now. 

Dad: Do not make me send a suit over there. 

Dad: ... 

Dad: I'm this close. 

Peter shut his phone and his eyes as well. "I'm done for. Actually done for." 

Harry leaned over, reading his Dad's messages, smirking but also grimacing. "Yikes. Can I have your stuff when he kills you or locks you in the Tower like Rapunzel?" 

Peter glared at him, but before he could answer his phone lit up again- Dad calling.

"Double yikes." 

The entire bus went silent, or maybe thats just what Peter felt at that moment. 

Peter swallowed hard, and then swiped to answer. "Hey, Dad." 

"Don't even try to 'hey dad' me," Tony snapped. His voice was sharp, the kind that cut through statics. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Your teacher calls me during a meeting to tell me that you vanished into thin air, Peter. No one in your team knew where you were, your phone was nowhere to be tracked! Do you know how that looks like to a parent, Peter? I thought you got kidnapped or something!" 

Peter winced, ignoring the way Harry looked amused at his suffering. "I'm sorry, Dad. I.. well.. er, my phone had no signal and.. it was almost dead, well I..-" 

Tony talked right through him. "You were missing, Peter. Again. The last time you went missing you vanished for almost two weeks with no memories of what happened in those days! I had Pepper calling every single contact we had in D.C, Harley was trying to hack himself into your phone which is very securely protected by the way, we will be talking about that as well and-" He stopped suddenly, breath catching like the air had gone out of him. 

When his Dad spoke up again, his voice was calmer and quieter. "We'll talk about this later." 

Peter blinked. "Dad-" 

"No. Not over the phone." There was a pause, long enough for Peter to wonder if he should hang up. "And I'm calling Pepper. We're booking another appointment with Mrs. Smith as soon as possible. There is no way I'm waiting another two weeks for our appointment when you keep pulling stunts like these." 

Peter froze. "What? No, no, we don't need to-" 

"It's not up for debate, Peter." Tony interrupted, his voice fit but not angry anymore which made Peter even more anxious and he frowned. "We'll talk when you're back, stay put and don't walk away from your class until you arrive home." 

The line went dead. 

Peter stared at the dark screen, his stomach twisting. Harry sitting next to him raised an eyebrow. "I thought your ass was kidding when you mentioned therapy." 

"Yeah, no, no, not kidding." 

Harry grimaced, patting Peter comfortingly on his shoulder. "There, there, Pete. You're one brave lad, that you are. I think I would kill myself if I had a therapy session with my old man." 

Peter could only stare back at him with a concerned look on his face. 

He was already dreading the next therapy session. 

Chapter Text

Peter felt tired. 

Peter sat cross legged on his bed, hoodie sleeves tugged over his hands, half watching a movie neither him for Harley really cared about. The faint hum of the city drilled itself into Peters ears, the hum of the cars and people outside. 

Harley was sprawled on Peter's bedroom floor, his back against the wall, flipping a screwdriver in his hands since he couldn't sit still. They hadn't talked much since Peter came back from D.C a few days ago, because Harley was almost as mad as their Dad the only difference between their Dad and Harley though was, was that he was scared shitless out of his mind. 

Every now and then, the older boy would glance up at Peter opening his mouth and then quickly closing it again. 

"Just say it." Peter muttered finally, eyes still on the flickering screen. 

"Say what, Pete?" 

"You've been staring at me like you're about to tell me that I've got cancer or something." 

Harley sighed, setting the screwdriver down onto the ground with a clack. "I was just.. I was gonna ask how therapy's going?"

Peter's lips pressed into a thin line. "It's fine." 

"That bad huh?" 

Peter snorted. "It's awkward as hell. Dad tries way too hard and she asks far too many things that I don't want to answer. Also when I don't wanna answer Dad has that look, you know. The one where he's trying to puzzle everything together in his mind."

He waved his hand vaguely. "I hate therapy. I always did and now its even worse because its with Dad as well, I mean..Mrs. Smith always stares at me like she's waiting for me to start crying."

Harley held in a laugh. "You? Cry? In front of Dad? That'll be a day."

Peter took a pillow that was next to him and threw it on Harley. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," Harley said, grinning. "you're not exactly the type to share your emotions or we'll share anything, and Dad's even worse than you are. You both might hate the fact, but you are creepily similar to each other. It's why Dad is shitless scared to fail you or something." 

Peter didn't respond to that, he just looked back to the screen. The quiet stretched, the movie's soundtrack filled the room for a good minute. 

Harley leaned back to Peter's dresser, he was staring at his hands before he glanced up again. "You scared the hell out of me, you know." 

Peter blinked, a bit surprised. "What?" 

"When you were in D.C." Harley said, voice tight. "You just.. vanished. And no one knew where you were, and I know because I asked you friends very throughly. I wasn't able to hack into your phone, I thought- dude even Dad thought-" He stopped, shaking his head. "You can't just do stuff like that, Pete." 

"I'm fine," Peter answered. "Nothing happened, I was just.. it's not like I got hurt." 

"Yeah because you got lucky." Harley told him, looking awfully tense. "You can't keep doing this, Peter. One day, one day you're gonna get hurt or worse die. You know this. You know why I'm so upset- Dad still does it and he dies at least a thousand times a year, I just thought.. why do you also have to be a hero? Can't you just live normally?" 

Peter looked away. "I'm helping people, Harley."

"I know you are," Harley let out quietly. "but you shouldn't have to."

Peter tried his best not to roll his eyes.

Harley rubbed the back of his neck, sighing again. "Look, I get that Dad sucks at the whole parenting thing sometimes. Especially with you, I mean he literally started to go to therapy with you. But at least he's trying to fix it, right?"

Peter snorted. "He's Tony Stark, Harls. He doesn't just 'try' he just does things. Dad builds, he fixes and creates. I'm not something you can just fix."

Harley's gaze softened. "He doesn't want to fix you, Pete. Dad wants to fix his relationship towards you. He wants you around. I think he finally noticed how he was kind of a dick towards you."

Peter blinked, caught off guard.

Harley smirked faintly. "Don't make that face, dummy. It's weird seeing you actually go quiet for once."

"Shut up."

They fell back into a quietness, but it was less weird now.

"You know, for what it's worth, he was a shitty Dad to you. At least he's trying to be less shitty, you get me?"

Peters brow furrowed. "That's.."

"It's true, Pete. Literally everyone knows, even Steve figured it out before any of us did." He interrupted. "Dad was trying to keep everything together after Afghanistan and just missed the part where you grew up." 

Harley exhaled, long and shaky. "We both did. It's really fucked up." 

Peter didn't know what to say to that, he had a shaky smile on his face. "I missed you too you know? Even if you used to be a huge oblivious asshole."

Harley's lips twitched into a small smile. "Yeah, well, don't make me say anything sappy back or I'll puke." 

Peter doesn't even know when he changed into his suit and sneaked out of the Tower again. 

The city buzzed around him, neon bleeding into puddles, distant traffic, the hum of a thousand lives with stories that weren't his to tell. Peter crouched on the side of an apartment complex, his mask lenses narrowing as Karen tracked the familiar alien signature below. 

"Target located." Karen said in her calm, too cheerful tone. "Would you like me to engage enhanced reconnaissance mode?" 

"Uh, er, no. I got this." Peter whispered, watching the parking lot from above. "Let's just be normal about this one? I don't think he has any metal wings he can fly with so that he can drop us into a lake. So, nothings gonna happen, pretty sure,"

He crawled down  the wall, flipped silently onto the concrete, and spotted the guy walking towards an old looking car, his jacket zipped up, scrolling through his phone. 

He looked familiar. 

Too familiar. 

It's one of the guys he'd seen dealing with the weapons a few nights ago. 

Peter took a deep breath and lowered his voice, trying to sound older, like his Dad maybe. "Okay, be cool, Peter. Deep voice. Scary, yeah." 

He jumped down, landing on the car roof with a thunk. 

The man let out a yelp, phone flying from his hands. 

Peter hung upside down from a web, mask lenses wide. He shot a web towards the mans hand, leaving him stuck to the car. 

It was quiet for a second, the guy just stared at his hand in disbelief. He sighed, stared at Peter with a tired look. "Spider-guy, what are you doing?" 

Peter deepened his voice when he started to answer. "I'm not Spider-guy, my name is Spider-Man, get it right. "

The guy furrowed his eyebrows like he was cringing. 

Peter's lenses narrowed, voice dropping to a robotic growl. 

"I need some information and you're gonna give it to me now!" 

The guy jumped, clearly confused. "Yo, what the hell is wrong with your voice?" 

Peter blinked. "What do you mean what's wrong with my voice?" 

"You sound like a damn cop. A stupid one." 

Peter flinched, grimacing beneath the mask. "Oh. Sorry. Er, Karen kill interrogation mode." 

Interrogation mode disabled. 

The man once again, stared at him again before sighing. "Man, you really need to get better at this.. you need to work on your intimidation thing. Names Aaron, by the way." 

Peter groaned. "Okay, fine. Can we please just focus, please? I know these weapons are alien tech and, dude, they're like really dangerous and stuff and I know you're dealing- or at least know the guys that are dealing them so.. can you please tell me when they're meeting?" 

Aaron just stood silent, clearly annoyed. "Hey, c'mon please. They can literally tear a whole building apart, I mean- what if those weapons fall into the wrong hands, dude? Work with me here I mean, if they do fall into the wrong hands they can do a lot of shit with that around the city and hurt tons of people if they're not killing them, Aaron, dude, work me with me here. Where are they meeting?" 

"Man, you seem like a great dude an' all, but if I do snitch, they'll have my head, you know that right?" Aaron added on before yawning. "And get this stuff off my hand, it feels weird. Does that come out of you?" 

"What, no? My webs do not come out of me-" 

"Well, you said it yourself, didn't ya? Spider-Man and all that, you can't really blame for thinking that. Do you lay eggs?" 

"I don't lay eggs either, what the fuck! Whatever.. I don't even know why I tried, this was stupid." Peter mumbled to himself and started to walk away. 

Aaron sighed, clearly even more annoyed than before. "Fine! Fine! I'll snitch or whatever. There's a deal going down tomorrow. Staten Island Ferry. 3 o'clock. That's all I know, man. I'm only telling you this because my nephew lives around this neighborhood anyway." 

Peter nodded, already backing up and making Karen memorize it. "Right, Ferry. 3 O'clock, got it." 

Peter hesitated, then added. "You're a good guy though, right? You're not gonna warn them off or buy any alien tech machinery guns anymore or stuff?" 

Aaron gave him a flat look. "Nah man, I just wanna go home, eat a pizza and ice my nerves. It's what I need to do after a bullshit day like this one. You feel me?" 

"I feel you too much, I think." 

"What?" 

Peter shook his head. "It's nothing, thank you for your help!" Peter told him and started to walk away. 

"Hey, you can't just leave me back here! I'm stuck to my car, I've got ice cream in here, man!" Aaron yelled from behind him. 

"Thats what you get for being a criminal! It's like I got you arrested or anything! Bye, bye, Mr. Criminal!" Peter shouted back, clear amusement in his voice. 

"Dude!" 

Tomorrow was gonna be one busy day. 

Chapter Text

The Staten Island Ferry loomed in front of him, like a floating parking garage, loud and crowded. Wind whipped over the water, carrying the tang of salt and diesel as Peter landed silently on the upper deck building. 

Karen pinged softly in his ear. 

"Thermal signatures detected, multiple. Basement deck, same pattern as the alien tech from the ATM robbers." 

"Yeah." Peter whispered, eyes narrowing behind the lenses. "That's definitely them, alright. Guess that dude didn't lie, now I feel bad for webbing his hand on his car." 

His heart was pounding, from the cold and nerves, from the fact this was the biggest lead he had on the alien tech and the Vulture guy. Peter climbed down the metal wall, clinging to the underside like a spider, inching towards open grates so he could see below. 

The deal was happening right here, buyers, sellers, crates of glowing alien junk no one should even have their hands on. 

The teen was spotted focused like never before, that he didn't even notice the buzzing. 

Then his mask lit up. 

Incoming Call: Tony Stark. 

Peter froze, his heart beating even faster.

"Oh come on," he whispered, already sweating. "Er, don't answer that Karen please do not-" 

Override, answering. . . 

The line clicked and Peter was this close on deciding to jump into the cold river.

This was terrible timing, gosh why did his Dad have such terrible timing.

It was quiet for a whole second, Peter almost forgot his Dad was there entirely until the older mans voice spoke up, clearly conversational . 

"So, Spidey, Underoos, a little birdie told me about Washington." 

Peter kept his eyes on the dealers. "Uh-huh, yeah, Da-, Mr. Stark.. I really can't talk right now.. er, can I call you back?" 

"Why? What are you doing? Anyway, I'm currently calling you to tell you that you did a good job. An awesome job even, I mean... I underestimated you, truly." 

Peter blinked, slightly surprised. "Uh, thank you but uhm- I'm really busy doing something right now and-" 

Tony cut him off again, without a slight of shame in his tone that made Peter's eye twitch in annoyance. "You know the class you saved and whatever? That was actually my son's class, the younger one, Peter." 

So, his Dad was talking to him, about himself. 

That wasn't awkward at all, really it wasn't.

Tony kept talking like nothing had happened. "Talking of Peter, I'm really trying to do better because I don't know if you know but I wasn't.. the best Dad towards him. I mean, my biggest fear was turning into my father and I think.. with Peter I might've actually.. I'm trying though, even dragged him to therapy with me, of course it was Pepper's idea and-" 

Therapy, gosh the last therapy session was dreadful. 

"Peter, is there something you'd like to tell Tony?" Mrs Smith spoke up, the same polite smile on her face as Peter was fidgeting around with the lego in his hand. 

"I.. well I know that you don't like me because of the way, well the fact that I look like you." His Dad's face fell, brows furrowed. 

"Pete, what do you mean by that? I love you, the same way I love your siblings-" 

"I know that, you love me. You have to, I'm your son. But you don't like, you don't like me as a person, Dad. I remind you too much of yourself." 

Peter swallowed hard.

Below him the guy opened the crate, light flashing purple across the deck. Time was running and there were tons of- 

"Mr. Stark, I really have to.."

"He's mad and I get that, I get that I fucked up and whatever, Spidey. I mean, we've been bonding, I think. After every session I take him out to get burgers, you know? And we talk but then he just does things that break all that effort and I don't want to guilt trip him or anything but does he not expect me to get mad whenever he storms off or ditches his class in a whole other state, I mean.." 

Peter grimaces, still staring at the dudes while his Dad gave a humorless laugh. "Y'know, Pepper when she, when she told me about therapy it was because she herself had noticed it, the pattern but me his father, didn't. We had a whole row and all that, she told me I was becoming like Howard without even noticing and I think she was right, and thats not even the worst part, Underoos." 

Peter feeling utterly hopeless at this point gave up, and just answered in a whisper. "What?" 

"She's right. She is and we all know it, I just don't get it why it took me this long to do something. I mean it comes to me so easily with Harls and Morgan, I don't know why I'm turning into the father I swore I would never be to one of my kids, Spidey." 

His Dad exhaled loudly. "I mean that kid deserves better, it's just.." 

Peter felt his chest tighten, and his breathing starting to shallow.

He was not gonna have a panic attack now, he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Peter did not have the time for this, this was officially worse than Therapy. 

"Mr, Mr. Stark, sir?" Peter whispered harshly, "I.. I really can't talk right-"

"Gosh, I said to much, didn't I? It's just the last session was fucking shit. I mean it really opened my eyes, I think. I'm sorry, Spidey I really just called you tell you that you did a good job but my son is just.. I'm trying so hard to fix things but sometimes I just think that he gave up."

Peter felt dizzy, actually felt dizzy.

Tony was talking about him,

to him.

While having no idea, gosh he felt like such an asshole.

And down below, the weapons hummed.

Peter took a deep breath, his decision already made. 

He tightened his grip. "I'm sorry, D..d.. sir, I gotta go. Karen hang up-"

"Hang on, what do you mean by that? What are you doing right now-" 

Peter hung up, mid sentence. 

"Well, that was just pure shit. Or rubbish, who even says rubbish? I think Harry just made that word up.." Peter said to himself nervously. 

 Peter dropped from where he was. 

The dealers froze. 

"What's up, my guys? Miss me?" Peter said, activating the deep voice modulator. "It's your old and dear, friendly Spider-Man. You guys aren't supposed to have that alien tech, you know that right? I'm gonna need everyone to drop that glowly stuff," 

One of the guys blinked. "Are you serious, right now?" 

"Oh, totally serious," Peter told him, pointing both hands. "Like, dead serious. Actually, no.. that was bad phrasing. Forget I said that." 

They reached for their weapons and then.. 

Karen activated Instant kill mode. 

"No! No, Karen what the hell? Turn that off right now!" He yelled slamming the command just in time. 

That didn't matter that much though, because in a matter of seconds, chaos broke out entirely. 

One of the men fired a glowing, crackling beam towards him. Peter flipped, sliding across the floor, shooting webs and sticking webs to guns to walls, feet to railings and masks to faces. 

"You ever think," Peter started to speak, as he swung past them. "that MAYBE, just maybe, that selling this stuff on a very public ferry.." THIWP  "..is a terrible idea?"

One guy aimed a Chitauri-powered glider gun.

Karen warned him, of course. "Energy level unstable." 

"Yeah, I got that, thanks!" 

Peter launched himself forward, but the guy pulled the freaking trigger.

A blinding violet blast through the deck as people started to scream.

BOOM

The entire ferry shuddered, the floor buckled, and the metal was screaming as parts of it hissed and broke.

The blast carved the boat in half as if it was paper.

People screamed as alarms blared.

The middle of the fucking ferry then split open.

This day couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Oh, no, no, no, no-"

Tons of water rushed in, cars slid and people grabbed railings. 

Karen's voice acted out again. "Structural integrity compromised-" 

"I KNOW!" 

Peter fired web after web after web, moving faster than he ever did in his life, leaping across the widening gap, using every ounce of strength he had left in him.

He was trying to pull the halves back together. 

His arms were shaking violently. 

His lungs burned. 

His mask lenses narrowed in panic. 

Karen counted, "Split at ninety-eight percent-" 

"Karen, I love you. But you're not helping so stay quiet!" 

Peter was doing it.

Barley. 

Holding the entire ferry by himself.

People were shouting, maybe even cheering, Peter didn't know, the buzzing in his head was getting louder and louder and..louder...

"Pete, I'm going to need you to tell us what happened, okay?" His dad asked him as he stroked his hair comfortingly, Peter felt scared though, he hadn't seen him in what felt like ages and his arms were aching because of the bad guys that were out to get Ms Laine yesterday- 

"Where's Ms. Laine?" 

"Peter, what happened? You were missing, buddy. I missed- we all missed you, so much. I was so worried." Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

"Hm? Can you tell me, Pete? What happened?" 

Peter blinked, the voice of Ms. Laine and her words that were clear as day echoing in his mind, the ones that told him not to tell anyone what happened. 

"I don't remember. I don't.. what's wrong, Dad?" Peter tried his best not to look guilty with the way his Dad's expression fell. 

"Tony, we just found some information. Her name isn't even.. it's Sabrina Müller, oh, look who's awake." The black widow said as she walked in, clearly still thinking that Peter was asleep. 

"Tony, we need to talk." His Dad nodded, he got up and didn't even look back. 

Peter missed Ms. Laine already. 

His webs started to snap, one by one. 

"No, fuck, no- please..-" 

The gap widened again. 

Peter doesn't even know when or how, but suddenly his Dad was in front of him and that was the most terrifying thing that had happened today. 

"What the hell were you thinking, Underoos?" 

Peter flinched, biting his lip under the mask. 

The helmet unfolded, and Tony Stark's face was there, looking absolutely furious. 

"How could you have possibly thought this was a good idea, huh? People could have died, you could have died!" Tony scolded and Peter felt his heart race quicker. 

Peter's stomach twisted in knots, he felt nauseous, he couldn't even hear half of what his Dad was even saying. 

"Mr. Stark, really, I was just trying to-" 

"To do what, exactly? Get people killed, blow up a ferry? Underoos, I already told you to leave this alone. Do you know how bad this could have ended? If someone died out there, that would've been on you," 

He paused for a second. "and if you had died, that would've been on me. I told, I told you that I already had people working on this," 

Tony glared, the way he would whenever Peter would screw up, but he never looked at him like that when he was Spider-Man. 

"I thought, I thought I was doing the right thing and.."

"Obviously." His Dad also looked disappointed, his expression was sharp and cold, so was his tone not the way he was speaking to him earlier. 

Peter felt something inside him snap. 

He didn't cry, he never cried. Crying was a weakness, that's what Ms Laine had told him whenever they were held at gun point in those weeks, but his throat was burning right now. 

"I'm, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark."

His Dad stared at him for what felt like a long time. 

"We're done." 

Peter froze, looking up again. "What?" 

Tony's voice softened a bit, but in a way that made the whole thing more devastating. "You're not ready, kid. I thought you were but you're obviously not. This was a reckless move and do you know that if anything went wrong today- you would have had a one way ticket to the raft." 

Peter blinked, "Give me the suit." 

The world caved around him. "What? No, please, Mr. Stark, I won't do anything rash like that again, I swear. Please, I'm nothing without this suit..-" 

His dad snapped. "If you're nothing without the suit, you shouldn't have had it in the first place." 

"FRIDAY, Override." 

Peter's eyes widened. "No, Mr. Stark, please don't-" 

Peter felt his chest collapse. 

His hands trembled as he touched the emblem. 

The mask peeled back. 

And his dad stopped talking. 

Peter saw how his Dad also stopped breathing, and moving. 

Because standing in front of him was, Peter with his face exposed. 

Hair matted in sweat, eyes red, terrified and pleading, his lip trembling and bruised. 

His son. 

Peter realized too late what that Override actually meant. 

He took a step back, clearly panicked as he stared at the ground, clenching his jaw shut. 

Tony's face went pale, ghostly pale, as if everything what was supposed to be color was drained out of him. 

His Dad was staring at him as if he was a ghost.

"Dad, I swear, I can explain, just don't.. don't freak out!" 

Tony wasn't even listening, his mouth was slightly parted though. 

And then, in a voice halfway between a whisper and a horrified choke. 

"What the actual fuck, Peter?" 

The teen flinched as if someone had shot him. 

Tony blinked once, then twice. 

A third time, but slower as of trying to piece the pieces together. 

His face went even paler. "No, no, no way. Hold on, so you're.. fuck. What the fuck, what the actual..."

Peter's throat closed instantly. 

"Dad, please don't panic, I can.. I can explain." 

His Dad took a step back. "I took you to Germany, what the hell, did Harley or Pepper not notice that you weren't.. you've been doing patrols during- how the hell do you sneak off? Oh my gosh, you almost died like a thousand times-" 

Peter's eyes burned.

"I didn't want you to know because.."

Tony's voice went razor thin. "Peter, you're fifteen years old, what do you think you're doing?" 

Peter clenched his jaw shut again. "I know."

Tony stared, clearly horrified. 

Like the world tilted beneath him. 

Finally, His dad swallowed hard. 

Very hard.

"We're going home, I'm calling Happy." His voice cracked. "We'll talk about this at home." 

Peter nodded once. 

It didn't take long for Happy to arrive, and he almost looked as horrified as his Dad. 

The ride back to the Tower felt like sitting beside a nuclear reactor that was one degree from a meltdown. 

His Dad didn't speak. 

Didn't even look at him. 

He was just sitting, in the passenger seat, jaw locked and eerily quiet. 

Peter sat curled into himself, hands trembling, feeling smaller than he had in years. 

When they finally stepped out of the Tower garage, Tony still didn't look at him. Not once, he just walked, fast, silent and that was so terrifying it made Peter almost throw up. 

Peter followed him to the elevator, biting his lip, unsure if he should speak up or not. 

Then, the doors opened. 

Peter followed his dad, who eventually walked into the living room where Harley was. His brother was sprawled across the couch, eating chips like a gremlin as he was watching some weird kind of movie. 

Harley turned his head lazily. 

And froze. 

Ah, so they were both done for. 

Good to know. 

Harley blinked, twice then said the worst and stupidest word that he could've uttered in that moment. 

"Oh." 

His dad didn't raise his voice, which somehow made Peter feel worse. 

"Oh? Oh? That's your response? Oh?" 

Harley made an actual squeaking noise, and Peter tried his best to not just flee at the moment. 

"Hey, so.. in my defense..?" 

Their Dad turned towards him with the slow realization of a man who just figured out that he was played by his own flesh and blood.

"Harley Edward Stark." Tony started, each name another nail to the coffin. "Did you know that your younger brother is.. is.. Spider-Man?" 

Harley sat up straight, grimacing slightly looking at Peter for help even though he knew that Peter was even more in trouble than he was. 

"I mean, well, Dad. Er, how about you define 'know' because I myself.."

Peter buried his face into his hands. Oh god why. 

Tony took one step forward. 

Harley shut up. 

Then their Dad turned towards Peter. "And you, how did you even, I mean.." 

Peter felt his stomach drop to the floor. 

"You've been sneaking out during night, lying, getting hurt! And your older brother over here-" He gestured towards Harley. "thought this was a bonding activity, did he? Did you?" 

Harley tried to protest. "I didn't-" 

He quickly shut up again after the look Tony gave him. 

Peter's voice came out small. "Dad.." 

"No, nope. You do not get to use that sad voice against me right now, Peter because quite frankly I don't know if I should just ground you forever or lock you in the Tower until you turn thirty."  

It cracked like a whip. 

"You two are gonna sit down on that sofa right freaking now and tell me every single detail you know. We're gonna have a long conversation about this, and don't think I won't tell Pepper, by the way." 

The day, indeed could get worse.

This was going to be a long night. 

Chapter Text

The Tower felt wrong, and quite frankly so did Peter. 

His Dad was pacing around in the living room, mumbling stuff to himself, his face a bit pale. The room felt like an interrogation chamber at this point. 

Harley was still holding a bag of chips, sitting next to Peter but he didn't even dare himself to take a bite. 

Tony kept running a hand through his hair, muttering half cursed words under his breath, the kind that only actually came out when he was truly pissed off. 

Peter sat stiffly on the couch, dread building inside his stomach even more, Harley beside him like a reluctant emotional support gremlin. 

Then their Dad stopped, turned his head, and pointed right at Peter. 

"You," he said, voice cracking like a whip. "start talking." 

Peter opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and then closed it again. No sound came out, his brain was soup. 

The teen saw how his dad's eye twitched, he took a deep breath and bit down on his lip. 

"Oh, good. Great, this is just amazing! The child, my child, my fucking son, nonetheless who has been apparently jumping off buildings, sneaking out during night, getting hurt, fighting men twice his age for gods sake has nothing- absolutely nothing to say." 

Harley winced, Peter's throat burned but he stayed quiet while the other boy tried to speak out. "Dad, how about you calm down? Maybe Peter'll-" 

Tony spun his head, looking at Harley now. "Don't even get me started on you, Harley Edward Stark."

Harley flinched and looked down. "You're the older one of you two, the responsible one. You're supposed to have a functioning brain! Did it not ever occur to you, that maybe, just maybe, it would've been smart to tell your father that your younger brother has been sneaking off and getting hurt!" 

"He convinced me, okay!" Harley shot back, looking clearly mad. "And I panicked! What was I supposed to do, dad? You have your own fucking problems to deal with as well, did you forget what Steve did to you? I knew you wouldn't have handled it well! Did you seriously expect me to walk into your lab, and tell you that your son- that you have been neglecting is fucking Spider-Man!" 

"Yes!"  Their Dad barked. "That would have been great, Harley! What if Peter died out there, huh? What if he got shot at, stabbed? Not to mention the reckless thing he did today!" 

Peter sank lower into the couch cushions. 

Wrong move.

Tony snapped his gaze back to him like a missile locking onto a target. 

"And you." He started, voice dropping dangerously. "Peter James Stark." 

Oh no. 

He used the middle name. 

"If I find one more fucking surprise in your life, I swear to god I will.." 

Peter's chest tightened. "I..I was just, I was just trying to help.." 

"Help?" Tony's voice went firm, mixed with disbelief obviously. "Help? Peter you're fifteen years old. Fifteen."

"I'm not a baby!" 

"You're a child." 

"I'm not helpless, Dad!" 

"You were almost cut in half today, Peter. If I didn't realize that something was wrong during our call, you would have, maybe, died." 

"I saved people!" Peter tried to say, ignoring the look Harley gave him after he heard the last sentence that came out of Tony's mouth. 

"You almost died! Do you understand that, Peter? You almost died!" 

It went quiet for one second, until Peter yelled back. 

"You do it every day!" 

Peter snapped, very loudly, and he regretted it as quickly as he said it. 

Silence slammed into the room. 

His Dad went still, too still. 

When he spoke up again, his voice was low and cold.

"I'm not losing you, Peter." Tony took a deep breath. "I don't care, if you see me as the bad guy now. You.. you're not doing this again." 

Peter froze. 

For a second, he couldn't really process the words. 

He doesn't even know why he's surprised, he saw this coming.

"..What?" 

Tony's voice was final, no cracks and no room for any arguments. "You heard me. I'm shutting this down, I was planning to shut this down before I even saw your face behind that mask, because of the ferry, but this? This is final. No more Spider-Man. You're done." 

Peters heart went straight to the floor. 

"But Dad.." 

"No," Tony cut in. Sharply. "No suit. No webs. No vigilante crap. No more sneaking off. No more almost dying. As of today, Spider-Man's dead. It's over." 

Harley visibly winced, like he watched someone get punched in slow motion. 

"Dad.." The older boy started, testing the waters. "Maybe that's a little.."

"This isn't up for debate." The man snapped. 

Harley closed his mouth with an audible clink, and grimaced side eyeing his brother worryingly. Clearly not in favor of the decision. Also very clearly not able to challenge Tony when he was nuclear war level mad.

But Peter, er.. 

He couldn't just sit there, could he?

"It's not fair," he said, voice trembling. "You can't just, you can't just take it from me! I'm helping people!" 

Tony turned his head towards him so fast, Harley almost jumped.

"You are a child, Peter! My child! My responsibility! And I won't watch you get killed or die! I'm not, so this discussion is over."

Peter flinched. "I won't die, I didn't die and I haven't so far.."

"That's not a defense! And it's clearly, so obviously not helping your case." Tony shouted, pacing around again. "Peter everything about, everything about this is fucking reckless and dangerous and terrifying! And you didn't tell me you were enhanced either! You didn't come to me, you didn't trust me with any of this!" 

"I was scared you'd take it away, dad!" Peter yelled back, fighting the tears that were starting to well up in his eyes. 

"Well, congratulations," Tony told him, his voice cracking. "because that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm not letting you kill yourself, Peter or get yourself send to the fucking raft. And if that makes me a dick of a father so be it, I don't care!" 

Peter's breath hitched, anger burning in his eyes. 

"You're punishing me for trying to do something good." 

"I'm protecting my son," Tony corrected, a bit softer this time. "This doesn't have to be forever, Peter but you are a minor. You're not ready." 

"You don't even know what I can do," Peter whispered. "you've never asked."

Tony's mouth opened, then closed and a flicker of guilt washed over his face.

But he didn't change his decision. 

"This isn't permanent," His Dad finally told him. "but the day you go out as Spider-Man again, is going to be the day where you're legally allowed to buy alcohol. So until I say otherwise, you are grounded from the suit." 

Peter stared at him, glared at him. 

"This is the part," Tony added quietly. "where being your dad matters more than me being impressed on what you can do. One day, when you're older, Peter. You'll understand." 

Peter felt like he had been hit.

Hard.

Harley sat there, quietly, elbows on knees, eyes darting between the two like he was watching two cats fight each other.

"Pete," Harley murmured, almost apologetically. "Dad's scared, y'know? Maybe, maybe he's right. I mean, you do get hurt a lot and.."

"I'm not scared." His Dad lied, looking offended. 

Harley snorted. "Yeah right." 

His dad looked exhausted and he ran a hand down his face. "I'm not negotiating over this anymore. Spider-Man is going on a hiatus, a very big hiatus." 

Peter swallowed a lump in his throat. 

His Dad just took away the only thing that made him feel useful in a while. 

Peter doesn't know how to not, how to.. 

Peter doesn't want to cry. 

Crying is a weakness that shows the other that they won. 

That's what Ms. Laine always told him. 

Peter woke up drenched in sweat, breaths coming in shallow. 

He looked at the time, it was night, and quiet. 

The boy got up, and walked into the bathroom, it was Summer break and Ned was in Hawaii, his Dad and Pepper were busy with Morgan who was a baby and Harley was at some dumb camp. 

He doesn't know when he had gotten the idea. 

Peter felt the need to cry when he did the first cut, his vision was blurry as he watched the blood drip to the clean bathroom floor. 

Ms. Laine would be so disappointed in him. He could hear her voice clearly in his head. 

"Crying makes the other guy think he won, Peter. You don't want that, do you? Trust me when I tell you this, Peter. Never, and I mean never cry in front of anyone. It'll just make them pity you, or worse." 

But, it made him feel something. 

Something he hadn't felt in a while. 

His arm looked funny with the blood dripping, he feels like an idiot when he started smiling. 

Peter took a deep breath and- 

"Peter?" 

Peter blinked, staring at his Dad. "You don't look good, I know you feel bad right now. Go get some sleep." 

Peter didn't say anything when he walked to his room. 

He didn't have the energy to. 

The world felt like it shrank around him, like someone had taken everything bright and cut it in half. 

Harley followed him silently, hands shoved in his pockets, chewing the inside of his cheek. He knew not to talk until the door behind them closed shut.

Once they were inside, Peter collapsed on the side of his bed. He didn't bounce, he didn't fidget. He just folded forward, elbows on knees, staring into the ceiling. 

Harley sat beside him slowly. 

For a long moment no one moved or spoke. 

Then: 

"You look like shit, dude." Harley spoke softly. 

Peter huffed through his nose, not quite a laugh, though a bit closer to sob he refused to let out until he was alone. 

"Yeah," Peter mumbled. "Feel like it too." 

Harley went quiet. 

Peter dragged his hands to his face, fingers pressing into his eyes as if he could hold everything in. "He took everything, Harls." he whispered. "Spider-Man was the one thing I could do without screwing up. The one thing that actually felt right for once." 

"He worked with me too, y'know? It was nice, like, like.. he didn't, it wasn't awkward like it was with us without the mask. We, he took me to Germany and he told me I did a great job and everything. He never did that when I wasn't wearing the mask and now thats gone too. Now he just thinks I'm some kid who's a screw up."

Harleys throat bobbed, he thought very carefully before he spoke. "Pete, you are a kid.

Peter didn't answer.  

Harley nudged his shoulder. "And you scared the shit out of him too, y'know." 

"I scare everyone." Peter muttered. 

"Thats not, no." Harley turned fully, forcing Peter to look at him. "That's not what I meant. You scared him because he cares, dude. Because he didn't know. If there was one thing Tony Stark fears more than actually communicating, it's losing the people he loves. I mean he's still depressed about the, well you know, the rogues. They're driving him nuts." 

Peter swallowed, eyes glassy. 

"You found out too," Peter whispered. "you didn't freak out like he did." 

Harley snorted. "Oh I freaked out, I had a full panic attack in my room after you came home with a whole ass stab wound, Peter." 

Peter blinked starteled. 

"You were bleeding through your suit, Pete. And then I stitched you up, do you get how messed up that is?" Harley ran a hand through his hair, "I'm still working with that metal image in my brain, dude." 

Peter gave a tiny hollow laugh. "Sorry about that,"

"It's fine, Pete." Harley told him, ruffling his hair afterwards. 

"It sucks, though." Peter admitted, sniffing and staring at his hands. 

It went quiet for a moment. "I know, but Dad isn't wrong about all of it either. I mean you could actually die." 

"I know, but it's still unfair. It's my choice." 

Harley sighed. "Look, I'm exhausted as well, okay? And Dad grounded me too, so can we pause on this topic?" 

The quietness filled the room quickly, the only sound being Peter's hitched breathing. 

"Yeah, yeah." 

Peter'll figure it out, he always does. 

It's just a bit harder this time. 

Chapter Text

Peter looked like he was hit by a train, run over by one at least twice, and to be honest he felt like it too. He doesn't want to think about anything, he's this close to just agree with Harry and get drunk again just so he could forget everything that happened. 

Peter should have been more careful, more cautious, but instead he acted stupid and got idiot results out of it. 

He felt like absolute shit, after Harley left him alone last night he sobbed for what felt like hours, and then fucking relapsed as if he didn't promise himself ages ago he wouldn't touch that damn blade anymore. 

Peter hadn't felt that disgusted with himself in a long, long time. 

His eyes had dark circles under them as always, his shoulders were slumped lazily and his hoodie was zipped halfway and wrinkled. Peter hadn't even bothered nursing the aching ribs from yesterday either. He walked into the school looking like ghost, and it was obvious that other people noticed. 

They always noticed. 

Not because he was Peter of course, but because he was a Stark. 

Ned, MJ and Harry immediately walked towards him in the hallway when they saw how he looked like. 

"Dude," Ned whispered, obviously horrified. "what happened to you?" 

MJ narrowed her eyes. "No seriously, you look even more of a loser than usual, did something happen yesterday?" 

Harry leaned closer towards him, putting a shoulder over his head, a grin on his face. "Is Tony Stark still pissed because of the Washington incident? I thought you guys did therapy and all that, mate. Though, it does sound incredibly dreadful going to a mind shrink with your old man. I do pity you, Junior, I really do." 

Peter didn't blink. He just exhaled, long and tired, a resigned sigh that made all three of them straighten up. 

"My dad found out," Peter muttered. 

Harry blinked, a bit confused, raising an eyebrow. "Found out, well what exactly, mate? Do you mean he figured out you lied about where you actually were in Washington? Dude, I told you-" 

"No," Peter cut in. "he found out about Spider-Man." 

All three froze. 

Like, literally froze. 

MJ almost dropped her phone from her hand, Ned's eyes were suspiciously wide and Harry audibly grimaced. 

"Oh shit, dude. That's.." Ned whispered, not sure on what to say. 

"Oh shit." Harry corrected louder. "Was it your brother, did he snitch? I knew he looked like an asshole, a handsome asshole, I admit, see this is why it never became more than the casual-" 

"Harry, shut up." MJ told the boy, she just stared at Peter. "That explains why you look like shit, though." 

Peter sighed, he dragged a hand over his eyes. "He's, he's like really mad. He even grounded Harley, and no Harry he didn't snitch. It was, it was my fault. I was being careless and not careful enough so he.., he said Spider-Man is dead, and that, he took my suit." 

Ned winced. "Ah, yikes." 

Harry looked like he was punched. "Dude, thats, he can't do that! That's your legacy, Peter! Like, he, I don't think he can-" 

"Apparently," Peter muttered. "he can and he did."

Silence.

"Well, that sucks, Peter." MJ let out first.

Peter snorted, it didn't sound like it though, it sounded sad, in a way that pissed him off even more.

They walked to class together, but Peter kept drifting behind them, his mind was obviously somewhere else, he didn't even know how to face his Dad anymore. One the suit that was locked in his Dad's lab that he didn't have access to.

He felt hollow, the same way he did when Ms. Laine had first left him.

Funny how all the good things in his life leave because of his Dad.

"Peter, buddy, can you just talk? Hm? For me, for Dad?" His Dad asked him, looking exhausted.

"I do talk, though."  Peter answered sharply, he felt tired like he hadn't slept in ages, which in a way was true. He had nightmares, a lot of them. 

"You know what I mean, kid. The doctor I send you to is supposed to help you, yeah? I know something happened in those weeks where you went missing, the doctor can't help you if he doesn't at least know a bit of what happened." 

Peter frowned and looked at the ground. 

"Your Dad is right, sweetie." Pepper cut in, holding Morgan, she looked a bit paler than usual. 

"It's not my fault, I can't remember anything. It's fine, stop sending me to that stupid doctor! You don't care anyway!" Peter yelled and got up, he stormed off to his room, his eyes welled up but he didn't cry. It's not like he was weak.

"Peter James Stark, you get over here right now! That is no way to talk to me-" 

"Tony, just let him go to his room. Maybe, he's telling the truth." 

"Pep, you don't know what I know. That witch manipulated him, for sure! Nat looked into her, Clint as well and turns out she's from-

Harley glared at him when he heard their dad talk. 

It's fine. Peter doesn't care. 

Ms Laine would've been proud at him and she's no witch, at least not to Peter. 

And even if she was, she would've been a good one, like the ones in Harry Potter. 

It has been a while since someone was proud at him. 

Peter looked like shit for the whole day, and he knows that other people noticed that he was pissed because even Flash of all people left him alone. He heard someone try to talk to him earlier, but all he heard was an echo of a voice in the back of his mind. 

So yeah, he wasn't feeling that great. 

His arm was itching as well, his ribs were aching and everything was so loud. 

This whole situation was making him think about things he didn't want to, things he had repressed in his mind for ages by now.

At lunch, Peter sat with his friends, not even eating just blankly staring into the walls. The table was weirdly quiet, awkwardly quiet, Peter knew he was fault at that. They weren't sure on what to say, even Harry was fidgeting around, he and MJ were exchanging glances while Ned just stared at Peter worryingly.

They just sat in silence.

Peter exhaled, he had to change the topic somehow.

Finally, the teen cleared his throat before he spoke. "Hey, er." he swallowed. "So, homecoming."

That got their attention.

Wow.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously, rethinking his decision. "I was, I was thinking about asking Liz, to the you know, well the homecoming dance. Do you guys think it's too late, I mean, it's not that far away anymore and-"

Ned lit up with excitement. "Yes, dude, finally! You've been drooling over her since ages!"

"No," Harry cut in. "hold on. Junior over here said that like he was doubting himself, not to mention Stark Senior just found out about the bug secret, hello? Are you sure you're okay to even go to a dance?"

"I'm fine," Peter lied automatically, deadpan. "I just, I just wanted to ask her before everything went to crap, since we kissed even, but I kept postponing and now,"

"That ship sailed ages ago, loser. Everything already went to crap. Are you even allowed to go to the dance?" MJ said, but with a hint of fondness in her voice that Peter almost didn't pick up.

The brunette shot her a look regardless.

"I think it's a great idea!" Ned defended him, with a smile on his face.

Harry leaned in.  "Are you gonna do it now? Before class, without any flowers, mate? While you look like a sick victorian child that's about to die?" 

Peter groaned. "Stop making it sound worse than it is, Harry." 

"Okay," Harry said, standing up. "but like seriously, if you faint mid sentence I'm not gonna pick you up or drag your body to the nurse's office." 

Peter rolled his eyes, and the four of them started walking to search for the girl. 

Liz was by the locker, smiling gorgeously to what an other girl, probably her friend was saying. When she noticed Peter walking towards her, her face flushed and she looked a bit startled. 

"Hey, Peter." she greeted, fondly smiling at him. 

"Hello, er." Peter spoke up, his voice cracking as if he was a twelve year old boy again. "Uh, hi." 

Wasn't this just a great start. 

She titled her head, curiously. "Everything alright, Pete?" 

Not even a bit, not even remotely. 

"Yeah, totally." Peter said, lying through his teeth with the confidence of someone who absolutely did not have their superhero identity ripped away from his father not even a day before. 

"I just, er, I just wanted to well, ask you if you wanted to go to the, homecoming with me? I know it's pretty late and that you probably already have a date and you don't have to accept, I just, I would love it if you'd, go there with uhm me." 

God, why was he so stupid. 

Liz blinked, the girl next to her let out a giggle.

Then she smiled, warm and bright.

"I'd like that, Peter. I really do."

Peter's heart did a painful, weird flip. He smiled back tired and real.

"Liz! You little lucky girl! Oh my god, you're going to the dance with Tony Stark's son!" He heard her friend tell Liz. 

"Shut up, he can hear you!" 

"Cool, cool, cool, cool," he whispered. "This great, don't panic, Peter. Don't panic."

He walked over to his friends in a quick motion. 

Harry clapped like an overexcited soccer mom. 

Peter tried to smile. 

It didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Peter stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, and the atmosphere hit him like a blast to the face.

Gosh, he hated this part.

He hated how everything just felt so wrong, and so out of place.

The penthouse wasn't loud, no yelling, no stomping, no dramatic meltdown covering the huge space, but somehow the silence made him feel worse. It crawled under his skin. making it itch.

Harley's bedroom lights were dimmed. The Tower hummed softly like it always did. Harley was sitting on his bed, with  his laptop open and eating pretzels. The older boy glanced up as soon as Peter stepped in.

His expression told Peter everything he needed to know.

 Harley clicked his laptop shut. "Dad's in his lab," he murmured. "He knows your home by the way. He texted me, he's been panicking since like yesterday. And really, I thought you sucked at communicating but gosh he sucks so bad at it, it has to be a talent of his in someway." 

Oh.

Oh, great.

This is just awesome.

Peter dropped his backpack on the floor, it left a small thud to be heard.

"So," Harley started, chewing on a pretzel. "how was school?" 

Peter shot him a flat look. "Like you don't know already."

Harley shrugged. "I mean, the Osborn guy texted me like a thousand times already today." 

Peter groaned into his hands. "I hate the fact that I'm not surprised." 

Harley let out a snort, and it went quiet.

The silence in the room thickened again. 

Footsteps echoed in the hall, familiar, heavy, and mechanical. 

Somehow, their Dad ended up in the bedroom as well, looking right at Peter with Harley just signaling him something and nodding.

He wasn't angry, or mad, or furious, he wasn't even yelling or looking annoyed. 

Somehow, somehow it made Peter feel worse.

His eyes flickered to Peter, then Harley, and then back to Peter.

"Hey," Tony's voice was controlled and calm, too calm. "You're, you're home."

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

Tony nodded back, his eyes flickering to Harley who was behind Peter, the tension in his jaw never settling before his eyes switched back to his younger son. "That's good, yep. That's good." 

Harley grimaced, looking like he just wanted to teleport out of the room.

No one said anything for a while.

His dad crossed his arms, classic Tony defensive posture. 

Peter couldn't really tell if it was Harleys bedroom that was cold or just him.

"So.." Tony finally started, looking at him, his voice clipped. "Good day at school?" 

Peter let out an empty laugh. "Not really."

"Yeah." Tony said. "I, er, I figured that." 

Harley glanced between them, clearly trying to tell their Dad something but his Dad just shook his head. 

"Uhm, I'll, I'll see you both later at dinner, there's pizza tonight. Your favorite, right, Pete?" 

Peter stared at his Dad, cautiously. "I'm gonna go to my room." 

Tony gave him a tense nod. 

Peter grabbed his backpack and walked past his Dad, feeling Tony's eyes on him the whole time. When the door finally shut behind him, he let out a breath in relief. 

Peter could still feel how wrong everything was.

He doesn't know why he thought it would change.

It's not like it was the first time that Peter felt this way. 

Right?

Chapter Text

This was weird. 

Peter stood in front of the mirror, drowning in nerves, he was wearing a suit jacket that he definitely didn't iron correctly. He looked like a kid wearing someone else's life, someone who wasn't having a silent war with their Dad, someone who didn't hurt themselves whenever something bad happened to them. 

He ran his hand through his hair for what felt like the thousand time. 

Behind him, Harley sat sprawled on Peter's bed with a bag of salty mini pretzels, absolutely not helping Peter at all. 

"You like you're about to throw up on her shoes as soon as you see her, Pete." Harley announced, chewing on one pretzel. 

"Thanks," Peter muttered, rolling his eyes. "Very supportive, Harls." 

"I'm just stating facts." Harley told him and threw a pretzel at his head. "Also, are you seriously not gonna fix your tie, dude? You look like a sad, divorced accountant that has no social life."

Peter glared at him through the mirror, clearly annoyed by the older one's grin. "I don't know how to tie ties!"

"So you're giving up and going with the 'wanna be gangster' chic?"

"Shut up."

Harley snorted, rolling off the bed dramatically and wandering over. "Come here, dumbass." He smacked Peters hands away and started to fix the knot properly. "Jesus, did no one ever teach you this?"

"No," Peter answered flatly. "Did someone teach you?" 

"Of course, Dad did."

Peter stiffened. 

Harley did too, just for a few seconds, before recovering again. "Like a million years ago, I didn't have, well you know that weird nanny of yours. I thought she would have.. whatever. Let's not make this weird, okay?"

Peter didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything, more like. Everything with his Dad has been weird lately. Muted, awkward, every time they did talk to each other it was short and blunt, they don't even have another appointment with Mrs Smith for another week or two either. 

It was as if Peter was walking on ice that could break any second.

Harley finished the tie and patted Peter's shoulders. "There, now you look less pathetic." Harley took another look at him, the nervousness was obvious. "You'll be fine, Pete. I'm pretty sure that girl likes you as well, I mean you really just asked her a week before the dance itself and she said yes." 

"Yeah, right," Peter said, picking at his cuff, his fingers going over the smooth skin on his wrist, as if the last week in the bathroom didn't happen at all. "but, she like, doesn't, I mean.. I-"

"Dude," Harley interrupted cutting his rambling short. "you gotta stop talking like that. You're a Stark through and through, she'll be bragging about this dance for the next twenty years or so just by going with you. It's not like anyone in the world would forget your existence." 

Peter grimaced and made a face. "You say that like it's a good thing, Harls."

Harley shook his head dramatically and sighed. "Sometimes it is, I mean we're literally rich. Bruce Wayne kind of rich." 

"You're such a geek." Peter shot at him making the other gasp. 

"I am not a geek! I just have good taste not like you do, no one even watches Star Wars anymore!" 

Peter frowned and glared at him. "You take that back right now!"

Before Harley could even respond, the door creaked open.

Tony stepped into Peter's room of a mess.

And all the air disappeared. 

He froze when he saw Peter in the suit, Peter froze as well. Harley stared at the two of them like watching a train crash in slow motion.

His Dad cleared his throat. "Peter. You, you er, you look nice."

Peter swallowed hard and then nodded. "Thanks."

Silence, heavy, choking silence. 

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets. "So.. big night tonight, isn't that right? Homecoming, high school. Normal, teenage stuff.." He nodded stiffly. "Good, that's uhm good."

Harley made a tiny noise like he physically couldn't handle the awkwardness. 

Tony looked at him sharply. "Something funny, Harley?" 

"No," Harley replied quickly, putting the pretzels down. "No, not at all, Dad. This is incredibly and perfectly normal. Not weird in the slightest possible way."

Their Dad gave him a flat look, then turned back to Peter, opening his mouth and then closing it again before speaking up. "Make sure to take some pictures, Pepper wants to see them. I mean, I can, or you can just ask someone else, I mean..you know because, well," Tony hesitated. "You don't even have to take pictures, if you don't want to."

"Okay," Peter said quietly.

Another wave of silence.

"Well," he finally said, gesturing with his hands vaguely. "don't be late."

"Right," 

Tony lingered a second longer, eyes softening just a little, in the way they always did before he put a mask up again.

Then he left and shut the door behind him, footsteps echoing away.

Harley let out a breath as if he had held it for three days. "I swear, you guys are gonna make me develop ulcers."

Peter sank back onto the bed. "It's not my fault."

His older brother jabbed his shoulder. "No, but you're both obviously idiots."

The younger teen stared at the floor. 

Harley sighed, softening just a bit. "Hey. Look at me." Peter did. "You're allowed to have fun tonight, okay? Even if, Dad's being Dad and that your week went shit. It's okay to have fun every once in a while. Just make sure that your pictures don't end up as headlines tomorrow."

Peter blinked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

Harley tugged his jacket straight one more time. "Go, you're gonna be late, y'know."

Peter nodded, grabbed the tiny bouquet sitting on his desk and forced a tight smile. "Wish me luck." 

"Not doing that," Harley told him, smirking. "You're doomed either way."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Oh fuck off, Harls." 

Peter stood on Liz Allans porch, bouquet shaking slightly in his hands. 

His tie felt too tight, his shoes felt too small and his heart felt nonexistent.

He knocked, just once.

A moment later the door opened, and Peter forgot how lungs worked. 

Liz was stunning, her hair was soft and curled, dress shimmering, and she was smiling as of she had no clue that she was way out of his league.

"Peter! You made it!" 

He smiled back, or well tried to. His heart was beating far too fast, and he felt like he was sweating, was he sweating? 

"Peter," she said, smiling wider. "Wow. You look really nice."

"You too." he squeezed his voice cracking. "I mean, uhm, er you look, you look amazing."

Smooth. Nailed it.

Liz laughed gently, and stepped back to let him in. "Come on, my Dad wants to meet you before we go." 

"Right, your dad. Parents. Fantastic, yeah."

Peter walked into that house.

Nothing was weird, it was a stink normal house, a bit similar to Ned's. 

It was normal. 

For like three whole seconds.

Then, 

"Hey, sweetheart, is your date here?" 

A man stepped out from the hallway.

Peters whole universe froze, in that moment. 

Because the man, the man stepping into the warm yellow light, holding a drink as if it was any normal Friday night. 

Was none other, than the fucking Vulture itself.

Peter's hand tightened on the bouquet so hard he thought he'd snap it broken in half.

Liz was beaming. "Dad, this is Peter. Peter, this is my Dad."

The Vultures eyes locked onto Peters face.

And Peter knew.

He knew Toomes recognized him as well, even without the mask.

But the man smiled warmly, extending Peter a hand. "Peter, I heard a lot about you, young man."

Peter swallowed his anxiety, or tried to and shook his hand. "Hello, sir, normal to- I mean, uhm, I mean it's nice to meet you,"

Liz blinked. "You okay?" 

"Yes! Yes, totally, why wouldn't I be." It's not like my date's father is the man that tried to kill me by drowning me! 

Toomes laughed, and somehow that made Peter feel even more alert. "Come on in, kid. Let me go grab my keys, and I'll give you two a ride."

"A what?" Peter choked. 

"A ride." Toomes clapped his shoulders. "To the dance."

Oh, God, no, no, no, no way. No fucking way..

Liz kissed her Mom goodbye, and looped her arm through Peter's. 

Peter just walked, he thinks he started to stop breathing once they were inside the car. 

The teen slid into the backseat, Liz beside him. 

The Vulture got into the drivers seat. 

Closed the door.

Locked the doors.

And in the review mirror their eyes met again. 

Peter tried to smile but it physically hurt.

Liz was chatting happily about something, he doesn't know what, everything blurred into a blob of noise. 

His brain was screaming to him in a loop. 

HE KNOWS. 

HE KNOWS WHO I AM AND I DON'T HAVE MY SUIT. 

HE KNOWS. 

Technically he did have a suit, but the old one in his bag, he always packed that one for emergency's if something happened to the Stark suit and he hadn't really packed it away yet, the same went for his web-shooters.

The rain was tapping aggressively against the windows. 

Then, halfway down the street, the girl mentioned something completely harmless. 

"--and then, at DC, when Spider-Man saved us-"

And that was it.

Peter saw it happen.

The way her fathers eyes narrowed, the he stared at him through the mirror.

Liz kept talking, of course. "It was wild, right? Just..insane. Peter wasn't with us when it happened, though, I was so scared thinking-"

Toomes interrupted, his voice calculated and calm. "Peter, where were you doing all that?" 

Peter's heart fell right to the car floor. 

"Uhm, in the, in the bathroom, sir."

Liz frowned. "Really? You were missing for a really long time though, Mr. Harrington almost called the-"

Peter cut in defensively. "I have, I have a bladder condition, actually."

Toomes let out a soft hum. "Interesting."

Another turn and another wave of silence.

"You're pretty quiet over there, Pete." Toomes said lightly. "Nervous? Big night, hm?"

Peter swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"You should be." Toomes mumbled. 

Liz didn't hear it, but Peter did. 

The car rolled to a smooth stop outside the high school. 

The gym lights glowed golden through the windows. Music thumped faintly. Students in suits and dresses streamed past, laughing and taking pictures. 

Normal. 

Perfectly normal.

And Peter felt like he was about to throw up. 

Liz unbuckled her seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride, Dad!"

"Of course," Her father replied warmly. 

He wasn't looking at her though.

No he was looking at, he was looking at Peter.

Liz reached for the door handle. "Come on, Peter-"

"Liz," Toomes said suddenly. "Go on inside for a sec. I want to talk to your date, just for a minute. He'll be right back."

"Oh." She blinked. "Okay?" 

She squeezed Peter's hand on her way out. "I'll save you a drink, don't worry."

Liz shut the door.

Toomes turned his head.

Slowly and predatory.

Like he had been waiting for this exact moment. 

The warm Dad facade dropped from his face like a mask slipping off.

"Peter," he said slowly. "you and I are gonna have a little chat."

Peter exhaled and shut his eyes. "Si.. sir,"

"Don't." Toomes told him sharply. "Don't insult me by pretending you don't know who I am."

A beat of suffocating silence. 

"You saved my daughter." The Vulture told him, slow but steady. "Washington, that elevator, that warehouse, those ATM robbers.. every incident in this city lately? Spider-Man was there. And coincidentally, you were missing every time."

Peter's breath caught. 

"You're a smart kid." Toomes continued. "Too smart for your own good."

He leaned closer, resting an elbow on the seat. 

"You're good," he murmured "Maybe even one of the good guys. But I'm better. I've been doing this for a far, far longer time than you have."

Peter finally managed to speak up. "Stop, then. What, what you're doing, sir it's quite frankly putting people, a lot of people in danger and.." 

"And I don't care." The Vulture replied. "Not about you, not about the city, not about any of it. I care about my family."

He pointed toward the school. 

"About her."

Peter felt something twist in his stomach. 

"You saved my daughter. You saved her life and I owe you for that."

A beat.

"But if you go after me again? Try to stop me again? Try to interfere with my business again?" 

His expression hardened sincerely. "I will not hesitate to kill you."

Peter's mind was going crazy, so was his Spidey Sense.

"And I don't mean that as an empty threat either. I'll kill you, dead. And.. if I can't kill you, I'll kill one of your loved ones."

Peter froze.

"I don't want to do that." The Vulture said softly. "I don't want to hurt my daughter by killing one of her friends. She'd be heartbroken, you know? So here's what going to happen."

Peter fidgeted around with his hands. 

"You're going to go inside, and you're gonna give Liz a good night. You'll pretend that everything normal and that I'm just your date's Dad."

He opened the drivers door.

"But after tonight, kid? You forget about me, and you leave me alone. And maybe we'll both walk away happy."

The Vulture turned his head once again. "Understand?"

Peter swallowed his throat tight. "Yeah."

"Good." Toomes paused. "And Peter?" 

Peter forced himself to look up. 

"Don't mess with me." he said quietly. "'Cause I will do anything to protect my family. And you better do what I told you."

Peter got out from the car slowly walking towards the gym.

But he couldn't go inside.

He couldn't pretend. 

Not when people were going to get hurt.

Not when he had an opportunity to stop him.

Even if he wasn't allowed to be Spider-Man anymore, even if Tony forbade it, even if it meant losing Liz.

He just couldn't. 

Peter sprinted into the parking lot, tearing the tie off his jacket. 

He pulled the suit with trembling fingers, he quickly put the web shooters on first.

"Please," he whispered to nobody. "Please don't let me be too late."

He ditched half the formal suit, putting on the mask last, earthing hard from under the fabric.

Peter swung, firing a web into the night.

Spider-Man was back.

Peter doesn't know how he managed it but after what felt like ages he arrived at a warehouse, again.

It was dark and quiet, abounded as well.

He landed safely and silently on the roof, listening. 

When.. 

CLANG! 

CRUNCH! 

Voices below. 

Peter lowered himself, climbing down to get closer to where the sound was. 

Rows of familiar crates.

The Vulture suit.

Huge, dark, and the wings spread wide.

Waiting.

Almost as if it was expecting him.

But it looked, it looked... wrong.

"This feels like a trap." he whispered. 

Peter swallowed. 

"Okay, cool, cool, cool, don't panic, don't panic, do not panic.." He stepped forward, his heart pounding ridiculously fast. 

Then the Vulture dropped from the rafters, wings spread wide and mechanic. 

Peter stumbled back, eyes wide. 

Toomes voice crackled through the mask. "I thought I made myself very clear, kid."

Before Peter could even blink, the man launched. 

The hit sent Peter flying across the concrete, air knocked clean from his lungs.

Peter gasped, pain flying over his body. 

Toomes grabbed him from the neck, lifting him effortlessly. 

"You should have gone to the dance."

Peter doesn't quite remember a lot of what happened afterwards.

It was blurry, a lot of it was blurry, and there was, a...

A lot of fighting. 

"You.. can't do this!" Peter rasped. "What about Liz? She, she doesn't deserve this! You lost anyway, look at this mess..!"

"Don't talk about my daughter." Toomes snarled.

He hit a control switch.

Peter looked up.

Just as the entire warehouse beam system started to crash into him.

The world was filled with concrete, metal, and weight.

So much weight. 

Peter couldn't move, he couldn't breathe properly.

Panic ripped through him, raw and suffocating that it made him want to die.

Was he going to die, like this? 

"Help," he whispered reflexively. 

No one answered, but the anxiety was so high it made Peter start crying. 

Sobbing would be a more proper explanation. "Dad! Anyone, please! Please! I don't know, I don't know how to get out! Please, please just anyone, please, please, please!" He shouted, his throat felt hoarse. 

"It hurts! God, please, please, I wanna.." 

Water dripped from pipes above, echoing around the ruin and it made Peter feel crazy.

"Anyone? Dad?" He sniffed. "Ms Laine?" Peter said childishly, he felt so stupid, he hadn't seen her in years, but yet..

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

And for one terrible moment he felt like a small child again.

Trapped. 

Isolated. 

Alone.

Dad isn't coming for you.

Ms. Laine isn't either, she's gone.

You're going to die here, you're going to die

Peter sobbed once more. 

"Come on, Peter." he whispered to himself. "Come on.. you can do this." 

A reflection caught his eye, the water that has been pooling, he could see himself.

The half broken mask stared back at him. 

"Come on, Peter." he gritted his teeth. "Come on, Spider-Man."

He shoved, and nothing was moving.

Peter took a deep breath, and then he screamed, painfully.

The beam shifted, and he screamed again his vision turning white.

The metal groaned, and the concrete split apart. 

Peter burst out from under the rubble, collapsing forward onto his hands and knees. 

The teen staggered to his feet. 

Breathing hard, breathing a lot, everything was aching. 

Peter was shaking, everything was hurting, but after all this, he was alive.

Spider-Man went after Toomes again. 

Chapter Text

Peter barely remembers the fight itself, with the way his body was aching.

The night wind roared in Peter's ears as he clung to the drifting wreckage of the plane, which somehow just felt blurry as hell, his fingers were burning and his lungs were clawing for air. The cargo jet, his Dad's jet was already a flaming comet streaking toward the beach, Vultures wings damaged wings sparkling wildly as Adrian Toomes fought to stabilize himself. 

Peter didn't have time to think. 

Didn't have time to breathe. 

He just jumped. 

Web-lines snapped out, catching metal scarps mid air, redirecting him, slingshotting him toward Toomes before the wings could explode completely. The heat was blinding, white, angry and Peter shielded his mask with a forearm as he tackled Toomes out of the sky. 

They hit the sand both hard. Peter rolled, but Toomes didn't. 

Peter was panting, and his hands were shaking, he wanted to go home but technically, his home didn't exist anymore. 

"Ms. Laine?" The woman looked up from the book she was reading. 

"Yes, Peter?" 

"Why do you never go home? Harley told me it's weird that you never go home because Ms Pepper also goes home but you don't." The boy said childishly while playing with his legos. 

"Oh, well, thats quite a question you have there, mini boss. I do go home, you are my home, Peter." She told him with that gentle smile on her face ruffling his hair afterwards while he giggled. 

"Ms. Laine that's silly, people can't be homes!" 

"Oh, yes, they can be, quite sure.  The only way to have a home, Peter, is when you share it with someone you love dearly." 

The Chitauri core glowed violently near the wreckage, and Peter saw it too, it was far too bright, too unstable, it was dangerous and it was obvious that it was.

"Toomes!" he shouted, his voice cracking painfully. "The wings are gonna blow up! Leave it- leave them, you'll die!" 

The man didn't do what Peter told him, instead he went closer towards the crate, gosh can someone actually be that desperate. 

The wings ruptured. 

Peter didn't even think. He just webbed Toomes, dragged him back, threw himself between the fire and the man literally trying to kill him, again. A blast threw them both across the beach. Peter hit a dune and crumpled, his chest was screaming and his suit was half burned, mask cracked down to the side. 

He didn't move for a whole minute, then another. 

"Okay.." he muttered hoarsely. "Ow."

The teen forced himself up, webbed the man up to keep him alive, and stumbled away from the burning wreck. Someone was gonna come, the police are probably already on their way, maybe even a few SHIELD agents.

Peter didn't want to stay, he quickly managed to write a note, sticked it close to the Vulture.

God, his dad was gonna be so mad, everyone was gonna be mad. 

Peter was sticky, he smelled of dust, metal and blood all mixed together, his suit couldn't be called a suit anymore and his face and hair was matted with grayish stuff from when he was stuck under a warehouse. 

Peter barely remembered how he managed to get home.

Actually, he remembered barely swinging home, and then having to walk home because he was out of webs. The adrenaline was half gone, his ribs felt like cracking glass, and every inhale tasted like ash that made him want to gag. His skin stung where the suit had burned away, his face was scarped, and somewhere above his head was warm, drying blood he was attempting to pretend he wasn't feeling. 

Head wounds bleed a lot anyway, nothing to be worried about, right? He does have his healing factor and.. gosh it fucking ached. 

The Tower lobby was spinning when he walked inside, it made him even more confused than he already was.

He didn't even take off his shoes.

Peter made it as far as the common floor hallway before his knees buckled, one hand hitting the wall with a dull smack. The elevator dinged behind him, but Peter was still trying to control his breathing to even care himself to turn around and check who it was. His vision was fuzzing around, everything was hurting.

He really, really, really, wished he didn't ditch the damn homecoming dance to come home looking like this.

Peter was so, so, dead once his Dad finds out. 

Footsteps sounded down the hall, slow at first, then clearly faster.

"..Peter?" 

Harley's voice. 

Somehow, Peter felt relief take over him.

His brother sounded confused. It was clear he expected Peter in a suit, just not in this suit. He probably expected Peter to be sweaty, maybe sulking around because of Liz. Not whatever, hurt, burned and dusty mess Peter came home with. 

Peter lifted his head and Harley froze, his phone falling from his hands, he looked genuinely horrified. 

Harley froze completely, Peter watched him, the way he just stared at him for ten whole seconds, wide eyed and horrified at what he's looking. 

Peter honestly didn't even blame him. He probably looked like a zombie from a movie. 

Harley blinked, once then twice. His freckles stood out stark against skin that had gone completely pale. 

And then, he finally managed to speak up. 

"Holy.. Peter!"

Harley practically lunged across the hall. 

Peter didn't even get a word out before Harley's hands were on his shoulders and he winced. Harley was acting frantic, and he was shaking slightly while he was trying to straighten Peter up without hurting him.

"What the hell happened?" Harley's voice cracked. "Where, how, you were supposed to be at the dance! Did something happen? I don't think there was an earthquake or anything like that, holy shit are you wearing your first Spider-Man suit? Didn't Dad- Jesus, Peter you're bleeding!" 

Peter winced when Harley's brushed to close to his ribs. 

Harley, of course, noticed that instantly. "Okay, okay, don't panic, I'll.. no homecoming recap, then I guess, we're done, okay come on-"

He shoved Peter's arm over his shoulder, supporting more of his weight than Peter thought from someone who looked that lanky. 

Harley practically dragged him toward the elevator. 

"Why didn't you call?" Harley muttered, his voice trembling, ranting to himself in a way he only did when he was actually scared. "Or text, or even scream, Pete? Peter if Harry didn't text me that he wasn't able to find you at the dance, I would've never checked the cameras, I wasn't even home! God you're burning up, that's not good is it?"

The elevator doors closed around them. Peter slumped slightly, his breath shaking. 

Harley jabbed the button for the medbay with the kind of speed and aggression Peter would've laughed at, if he wasn't feeling as shitty as right now.

He turned back at him, scanning every bruise, every burn, every scarp with precision. 

"Peter," Harley whispered, tucking away some of the matted hair that was mixed with dust and blood away from his forehead. It made Peter think of Ms. Laine a bit. "what did you do?" 

Peter swallowed. 

"... stopped the Vulture." he rasped, which made his throat hurt.

Harley stared at him as if he wasn't sure to comfort him or scream at him. 

"Of course you did." He whispered, running a hand through his hair. 

"FRIDAY?" Harley asked out loud, still supporting Peter so he could keep his balance. 

"Yes, Harley?" The AI responded. 

"Send Dad a message and tell him what happened." 

Peter couldn't even open his mouth to protest against it. 

The elevator dinged.

And he hauled Peter straight into the medbay like his life depended on it. 

Peter only vaguely registered the white sterile ceiling above him as Harley practically dragged him into the Medbay. His legs were trembling, his ribs basically felt like they were made out of glass, and his left shoulder was throbbing so hard his vision in waves. 

Though, it definitely hurt much less than before.

"Cho? Dr. Cho? Hey, hey we need some help over here!" Harley's voice cracked midway into his sentence laced with obvious panic. 

Cho looked up from her monitor, eyebrows lifting alarmed. "Harley? What.." Her gaze slid to Peter, who was slumped against Harley's side, suit torn, ash covering his face, and blood was darkening some spots of his suits, but Peter felt how those parts were starting heal themselves up first. 

Gosh, there was so much ash and dust on him that he felt dusted, it made him feel itchy everywhere and it was annoying. 

"Oh my god! Peter? Is that you, what happened?"

Peter tried to speak but it came out more like a wheeze. "I, fell?"

He instantly regretted it.

Harley swung his head towards Peter's face, looking actually offended. "Fell? And I thought I was the worst liar in the family, Pete. Even Morgs would've come up with a better excuse. You look as if jet engine fell on you, dumbass."

Dr. Cho grabbed some gloves and turned her head to Harley. "Move him to the bed, do it carefully." She was moving fast, cautious and clinical. 

Harley maneuvered Peter to the medbay bed, lowering him surprisingly careful. "Careful, careful, oh my gosh, Peter you can be so fucking stupid sometimes, I swear one day I'm gonna have more gray hair than Dad and it'll be all your fault, because its due to the stress you give me you little-" 

Harley stopped talking as soon as Peter hissed when Cho pressed the cut near to his side. "Ow, ow, ow- can you please not do it so hard, Miss Cho?" 

"I'm barely touching it," she said flatly, then paused, her eyes narrowing on the burns. "These burns.. Peter how did it even happen?" 

Peter's brain scrambled for passable explanations through the pain, exhaustion and dizziness. 

"Uh... science?" he tried, furrowing his brows. 

Harley groaned. "You are actually the worst liar alive." 

Dr. Cho sighed deeply and gestured toward a cabinet. "Harley, get me a trauma kit, the red one, please."

Harley practically sprinted to it.

Peter's head was throbbing and everything felt floaty. 

Dr. Cho cleaned the worst wounds pretty easily, examining the bruises blooming towards his ribs, making Peter clench his jaw shut so tight it vibrated. 

"Peter," she said gently. "this is... extensive. I'm going to run some scans, and you definitely need stitches. And that shoulder of yours is definitely dislocated." 

"Oh," Peter replied faintly. "That explains the stabbing pain." 

Harley choked. "Explains.. what the fuck, Peter?" 

FRIDAY's voice cackled above them. 

"Dr Cho, the Boss is en route to the Medbay. Estimated arrival: One minute and forty seconds."

Peter's entire soul shivered. 

Harley froze like a deer in headlight, staring at Peter for one second and then grimacing. "Okay, okay, it's fine, it's gonna be fine.. you know what no, I'll be realistic, you're so screwed, dude." 

Peter groaned, which was a big mistake to make, apparently. 

"You should be more worried about your injuries, Peter." Dr. Cho told him, utterly missing the context. 

Before Peter could say anything back, the door slammed open. 

His Dad stood there, still in the clothes he was wearing earlier when he was talking to Peter before he went to the dance, breathing sharply, eyes already scanning the room. 

Until they landed on him. 

Everything in him went still.

Harley cleared his throat, being no help at all, right now. 

Tony didn't exactly look angry, maybe a mix of angry and worry? 

"Peter James Stark."

Peter closed his eyes. 

Maybe he actually should've just died. 

Chapter Text

Peter never felt dread building up in his stomach as quickly as it did when his Dad walked into the room. 

He stared at his hands, teeth biting into his lips, while he tried to avoid looking at Tony as much as possible. Harley though, was staring right at him, the adrenaline pale face from before clearly wiped away. 

"I just want you to know, Dad. This is all you," He says and gestured at Peter. "literally, I mean, wow, Dad. I think it's remarkable that the kid that is most like you, is the kid you practically never spend time with, well, besides therapy." 

Peter heard his Dad sigh. "Honestly, I probably should've seen this coming. He just scared the shit out of me, and you do that like tons of times every year, I do not get why everyone is always so shocked when they find out that Pete's a Spider now, I mean we should have seen it coming in some kind of way." 

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and looked straight at Harley, clearly offended. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean!" 

Harley smiled, gave him a deadpan look. "It means, my dear baby brother, that you have way too much Stark genes in your body." 

"I hate you." 

Harley gave him a pat on the head. "Sure, you do, Pete. It's not like I just saved you from I don't know, dying from untreated wounds, but sure, sure you do." 

Before Peter could even reply, Tony spoke up, making him and Harley freeze. 

"Harley, out. Now." It definitely wasn't the tone Peter was expecting, it wasn't loud, or angry, or sharp. It was controlled, and calm, in a way that made Peter nervous. 

The kind of tone that meant Tony was just a few ticks more from exploding completely. 

Harley's jaw tightened, his eyes helplessly flicking towards Peter and their Dad. Tony wasn't even looking at Harley, he was looking at Peter, of course and Cho was muttering something to herself as she felt the tension, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else. 

"Dad, come on-" Harley tried, it was worth a shot. 

"Now." It was a simple and calm command, which meant there was no room for Harley to protest or negotiate. 

Harley swallowed, grimacing as if the sentence itself hurt him physically. His fingers hovered over Peter's arm, wanting to squeeze, wanting to comfort or reassure him. Instead he sighed and stepped backwards, eyes burning to Peter with a hint of guilt and pity. 

"I'll be right outside," he murmured, quiet enough for only Peter to hear. 

Then he was gone, the doors sliding shut behind him. 

Dr. Cho lingered for a moment longer. Her eyes were sharp, suspicious in a way that made Peter panic innerly, like she could tell something wasn't normal. That she was close to clicking the pieces together, even though she definitely shouldn't. But she simply sighed, tapped a control on the medpad, and spoke up gently. 

"Try not to raise your voice, Tony. He has a concussion." 

His Dad's jaw clenched shut, his expression looking like something Peter couldn't even really read. Though, his Dad didn't respond, he didn't even blink. 

The woman left, leaving him and his Dad alone. 

And suddenly it was too quiet, it made Peter want to freak out. 

It wasn't like Peter didn't hear anything, he practically heard everything going on in the city. The hum of the traffic and cars, people watching movies in their homes safely, others getting hurt, many who were just arguing and then some who were just living normally. 

Sometimes, it made Peter almost go crazy with how much he was hearing, but, to be honest, he started to get really paranoid if it was quiet. 

That just meant something was going to happen. 

Tony was standing there like he was unsure on what to say, his hair was mess, and he was wearing the same shirt he always wore when he was in the lab. There was a grease stain on the shirt as well. 

Peter's throat was burning and he didn't know why. 

Peter wished his Dad would do anything, he'd rather have him yell or lecture, or ground him. Anything would've better then the silent treatment he was getting, it reminded him to much of.. 

"Peter?" Tony spoke up, the bruises under his eyes being as dark as bruises. 

Peter stared at his hands, it's been a year, a year since he last seen Ms. Laine. Which just made him wonder, what was so wrong about him that made her leave him. 

They were alright, in those weeks where Peter was missing. 

They had fun, even with Peter's asthma intruding whenever they had to run for a while because of the guys who were after her. 

"Peter, buddy? Are you alright..why are you..?" 

"See, Dad! I told you, he's being weird! He's not answering at all!" 

Peter sniffed, he turned to look at Harley who looked weirded out. "I wanna go home."

"But we are home, Peter. Don't be stupid." 

Peter got up and stormed off, ignoring the calls of his names behind him. 

They'll forget that this even happened later, it's not like they actually cared. 

Harley and Peter never even talk anymore.

His eyes were burning. 

Peter stared down at the blanket over his legs, it was easier than meeting Tony's eyes. Every inch of him still ached, less than before, of course but it still hurt and Peter hated pain. His lungs were also still rattled with whatever smoke was still inside. 

He'd known from the moment from when he started swing home, that the confrontation would be bad, with everyone, not just his Dad. 

Peter still doesn't understand though, Tony was doing such a good job, ignoring him for such a long time. He doesn't get why he started to care now, or anyone in this forsaken Tower. 

To be fair, Peter should've expected it, with how his Dad was reacting. It wasn't the first time that Tony didn't know how to act with him, or talk to him. 

Eventually, just a step, slow and careful as if he was approaching a wild animal. 

"What," Tony finally said, his voice rough. "were you thinking?" 

Peter winced, not at the pain, but at the hint of disappointment in his tone. 

"I stopped him." His voice cracked, it sounded childish. "The Vulture, I mean." 

"You nearly died." 

"I didn't.. no, I wasn't..-" 

"You weren't what, Peter?" Tony snapped suddenly, stepping closer. "You weren't trying to get yourself killed? Funny, because, Harley makes FRIDAY send me a text, and then Happy calls me to tell me what you did and what the fuck actually happened!" 

Peter's throat tightened, but he wasn't going to cry. 

"Peter, you didn't even have your suit, for gods sake!" 

"I had to, Dad! Also, I vaguely remember you being the one who took away the so called suit." He whispered angrily. 

"No," Tony shot back. "You didn't have to do that, Peter. It wasn't your responsibility to take him down! And I took away your suit because, as much as you may think, Peter. You're not cut out for this yet, you're fifteen! You're supposed to do normal teenager things, hanging out with your friends, or going to homecoming not what  this is!"

Peter curled into himself, hugging his arms tightly despite the flare of pain. His Dad dragged a shaky hand through his hair, and swore under his breath, pacing once more before turning back to him. 

"I took away the suit for a reason, Peter." Tony said. "You weren't supposed to be out there at all! You weren't supposed to-" His voice broke, not loudly in any way, small and strangled, like he was trying to swallow it. 

Peter swallowed whatever was trying to rise out of him. 

"I don't need the suit," he said quietly. "I can be as good as a hero I was without the suit." 

"That's what terrifies me, because I won't be able to stop you." 

Peter's breath stuttered, his breathing becoming faster as time went on, even though he tried to control it. Tony's eyes were red around the edges, and Peter hated that he was the cause of that. 

He should've stayed silent. 

"It's my fault," Peter told him, voice trembling. "The ferry, and the uhm, plane, it's because of me. I messed everything up, Dad. I always screw things up. But, but I stopped him and that's good, right? He won't be able to hurt people anymore. I get that you're disappointed at me or whatever, it's kind of the only thing you keep feeling about me, because I can't, whatever happens, even before, I'm not normal. I don't get whats wrong with me-" 

His Dad was staring at him as if he was slapped. 

"Peter." He cut in, sitting down next to Peter, ruffling his hair comfortingly even though it was still filled with dust. "I'm not disappointed at you. There's nothing, there's nothing wrong with you and your, yes not normal but who even is normal, I mean look at me for example. You were never going to be normal and that's okay, because no matter what you're still my son." 

Peter finally dared himself to look at him. 

His dad's expression cracked fully then, no mask to see. 

"Peter, the reason why I'm angry, is because I almost lost you tonight. It was incredible what you did, but so, so dangerously stupid, and I'm the one saying that."

Peter's breath hitched, his stomach was twisting knots. 

"I didn't think you'd care," He whispered before he could stop himself from letting the words fall out of his mouth. 

Silence. 

Gosh, Peter hated the silence now. 

"You're my kid." Tony said, as if that should've fixed everything. "My kid. Of course I care. Of course I.." 

His Dad looked horrified. "Peter, your my kid, you.. You actually thought I wouldn't have cared if you died? I would have never forgiven myself, and I swear I'm trying to hard to make it up to you because I get, I get that I fucked up." 

Peter didn't speak, he probably would have started crying if he even attempted to start talking again. 

"Peter, you were trusted to me. I am supposed to keep you safe because I'm your Dad and..god you do know that I love you, right? I know that I don't say it a lot, but I do, I love you so much, kiddo. I fell in love with you as soon as I met baby you, with your chubby little toddler cheeks. I was so scared to break you, you and Harley both, I was terrified. And I, I.." 

He went silent, he just stopped talking completely. "I didn't, fuck, Peter, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Bambino. Please don't hate this stupid old man of yours, please, fuck, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I would do if you, if any of you died." 

That's when Peter broke, not loudly, just a soft and crumpled sound. His head dropping as tears dripped from his cheeks. 

Tony let out a shaky breath, his hand stroking Peter's hair comfortingly. 

"I'll give you the suit back,"

Peter's eyes widened, looking his Dad directly in the eye.

"What?" He felt embarrassed with how hoarse his voice sounded. 

Tony gave him a weak smile. "I'll give you the suit back, but don't think that I'll let you do everything the way you did before. There's gonna be some ground rules to set, to make sure you stay safe, okay?" 

Peter hugged him, which made Tony let out a chocked sound, before he hugged the boy back. 

"Thank you, thank you so much, Dad." 

"You're welcome, Pete." Tony swallowed thickly. "But please stop giving me heart attacks, I'm growing a gray hair each day because of you." 

Peter laughed wetly, he doesn't even remember the last time the two even hugged. 

Or spoke civilly outside of therapy. 

Maybe, it would eventually, get better, just a tad bit. 

Chapter Text

Mrs Smith's office was cold. 

Peter sat on the edge of the couch like always, as if it might swallow him whole, fingers tapping anxiously against each other, his heel bouncing. Tony sat beside him, close enough to count supportive, far enough that the space between them felt like an entire galaxy. 

His Dad has been trying more the last few days, to be 'better', just, the thing was, it was far too much that it had started to make him uncomfortable because it was obvious how guilty the man was feeling. 

Peter didn't mean, to do that, he was, well he wasn't fine with their relationship, especially in the past. Peter used to be so obsessively jealous of Harley and Morgan when he was younger, he would feel dread building up in his body, whenever he would sit at the family table and everyone would act like the happy family the were. 

Well, everyone besides him. 

It just took too long for anyone else to notice. 

It became worse in a way, after Ms Laine left. He started to build tons of bad habits, and he remembered how he spend most of his time in his room when he was thirteen, not wanting to do anything. It was a time where even Ned started to be worried, and that's how he eventually figured some stuff out.

His Dad is trying to be better, but Peter isn't sure, if anything, was ever gonna be better. 

He wasn't sure, if he was ever going to stop feeling this way, which is weird because things have improved a lot, he became Spider-Man, he has friends, he even has a better relationship with Harley. 

But he was still feeling like this. 

Mrs. Smith was staring looked between them with that patient, knowing expression she always wore, legs crossed, and her notebook blanked lightly in her lap. 

"Last time," She began gently. "we talked about the communication patterns between the two of you, and how Tony felt after Peter was, well, not reachable in D.C. And also the ways hurt built over the years.. and the attempts both of you are doing currently to change that." 

She smiled, the same patient and gentle one she always gave them. "How did this week go?" 

Peter swallowed, hard, he didn't know why he was nervous. The week, wasn't that bad. He and his Dad finally had talked in some kind of way, without it ending with both of them screaming, and he was allowed to be Spider-Man again, not to mention the fact that he also has the super cool suit back. 

Tony cleared his throat first. "Better," he said, his voice low. "We talked, after, Pete, came back home from his Homecoming dance." His jaw tightened, it was obvious his Dad was trying very hard not to bring Spider-Man into this. "I realized, when we talked, that uhm, I messed up. Like a lot. I pushed him, neglected him too much and expected him to be fine afterwards. Because, well, he always looks fine. He's good at pretending, I guess, that eventually I stopping paying him less attention than I should have." 

Peter shifted, his cheeks warming. It was always weird hearing his Dad be so... honest? 

Mrs. Smith nodded, the look on her face, never changing. "I'm glad that you have acknowledged that, Tony. And, how did that conversation feel for you, Peter?" 

He curled in a little at the sound of his name. "Uhm, good, I think?" His voice felt to small, that it made him cringe. "We, er, we don't really talk, about, uhm, hard stuff without it ending in a screaming match or an argument. So, it was nice, yeah." 

Tony looked like he was about to say something but held back, just nodding. 

They went on like that for a few minutes, light things mostly, the kind of topics that weren't sharp enough to cut but still stung. Peter talked about Washington, after his Dad brought it up again, but didn't say anything Spider-Man related. Tony, admit some things that he had been stressed lately, especially about the accords and the avengers who were still rogue. Peter even let it slip, that he had been feeling tired, like a lot, even when he slept. 

Mrs. Smith wrote something down, humming thoughtfully, even though Peter felt anxious whenever she started to write, when he said something. 

"Peter," She spoke up, after a moment. "You mentioned feeling exhausted, yes? You seem, pretty uncomfortable in your body today. Is something bothering you, physically? You're holding yourself unusually stiff." 

Peter's heart slammed against his ribs. He was feeling still sore, from homecoming, even though most the wounds had healed, his body still felt sore whenever he moved, not that he was surprised since a freaking building fell onto him. 

Not that he was gonna tell his Dad that part, he does not want him become even more weird than he already is. 

"Just, I'm just sore." he blurted out, nervously. "I fell, a few days ago. I'm pretty clumpy, you know." he forced out a laugh that sounded as if someone was strangling him. 

He started fidgeting with his sleeves, one finger circling around the now smooth base of skin, that was beneath the fabric. 

Mrs. Smith's eyes softened up in the worst possible way. "You don't usually have trouble with coordination."

Peter tensed up even more. "Actually, maybe, I..I do. You don't know that."

Tony turned around to look at him, after he had said that, no he felt even dumber because now he looks even more suspicious. His dad's brows furrowed together, he looked worried and confused.

"Pete," he said softly. "Hey, what's going on in your mind there, buddy?" 

"Nothing. Nothings going on. Everything's fine, dad. I swear."

"You're lying." Tony said immediately, it wasn't harsh though, just direct. 

The grip on his wrist becomes tighter the more nervous he gets, it's all too much at once, and Peter doesn't know what the hell is wrong. 

Peter's chest tightened painfully. "I'm not lying, Dad." 

Mrs. Smith folded her hands, looking different than usual. "Peter, I'm going to be direct for a moment, okay? Your posture, is as I said, very stiff and the way your guarding your arms.." 

Peter froze, avoiding to look at his Dad as quickly as he could. 

"..and the way you've reacted in past sessions when we discussed pain, it, well, it makes concerned about the possibility of self harm." 

The room went silent. 

A thick, suffocating silence that wrapped around Peter's throat. 

He heard Tony inhale sharply beside him, like someone punched the air out of him. "Peter.."

"I'm not," Peter's lungs folded, he didn't know how to breathe properly anymore. The world was tilting around him. "I don't do that, I, I really don't. Your wrong, I know you do these lucky guesses sometimes, Mrs. Smith but this is where you're definitely wrong- I.." 

His voice cracked, body curling instinctively away. His hands trembled, and he shoved them in his sleeves. 

It stung. 

Peter tilted his head, he doesn't quite understand what he just did, what he does know that he is feeling something. Something he hasn't felt in a while, he doesn't feel hollow or numb, or anything. 

It was stinging and Peter existed. 

He stared at the blade in his hand, that had a bit of blood on it now. 

Maybe, he should do it. 

Be gone forever. 

But, Peter's scared, really scared and he tries really hard not to cry. 

He does start crying, and he doesn't stop, for a long, long time. 

No one noticed. 

No one ever did. 

"Peter!" Someone knocks at the door. "Hurry up, dad told me to come get you. Dinners ready." 

Mrs. Smith's expression stayed calm, and that was the complete opposite of what Peter was feeling right now. "I'm not accusing you, Peter. I'm checking on you. Something is wrong, I also noticed that, last session but I thought, maybe you had a bad day but now..., Peter, you don't have to be scared. Your Dad won't be mad, and we won't judge you, okay? I just want to make sure, because if you do self harm, it might be smart to tell me. Or tell someone you trust." 

"I said I don't," Peter repeated, his voice rising defensively, words flying out of his mouth quickly. "I'm fine, okay? I'm fine. I just, I fell, earlier, I mean. That's why I'm so stiff right now, nothings wrong."

Tony leaned forward, his voice rough when he spoke up. "Kid, just, tell the truth. I won't be mad..-"

Peter jerked back, staring at his Dad. with a betrayed look. "You believe her? Are you actually..? What the hell, dad? I said, I, I'm being honest! I'm not doing that shit!" 

Tony flinched. 

Mrs. Smith softened her voice in a way that started to piss him off. "Peter, can you tell us why you're so afraid?" 

"I'm not afraid." he told her, but the tremor in his voice said something else entirely. 

His dad swallowed hard, then he turned towards Peter again. "Hey, Peter, bud. Look at me, please?" 

Peter did, slowly, and miserably. 

"Did you.. have you been hurting yourself? I won't be mad, promise. Just tell me, so I can.. help you, hm?" Tony asked, in a panic and quietly. 

Peter's lips parted soundlessly. 

He couldn't lie, he was terrible at it. And the healing factor made everything a blur, a smear, a bloody mess that never left any scars but never really left him either. 

He felt like he was falling. 

"I'm not.." His voice broke. "It's not like that anymore," 

His Dad froze, completely. 

Peter's eyes blurred. "I don't do it. I don't do it now, not as much, at least. I just.. sometimes.. my head gets loud and I don't," He stopped his chest heaving. "I don't know, I don't know.." 

Tony clenched his jaw, he looked pale in the face, unsure what to say for a few seconds. 

"Peter, Pete," he whispered. "Why didn't you tell me, hm?" 

Peter bit down his lip, his hands were still trembling and the office felt colder than ever. "Because I didn't think you'd care," 

The man's throat bobbed. 

Mrs. Smith gave him a moment then gently turned to Peter. "Thank you for telling us, Peter. I'm sorry if you felt forced, or pushed to tell us but this is something you shouldn't have to face alone."

Peter looked at the ground, his face grew warmer, clearly embarrassed. "I don't want to talk about it, please." 

Tony nodded a few seconds later. "Okay. Okay, we don't have to. Not, not right now." 

Mrs. Smith wrote something down for a long time. "I think it would be best to cut the session now, yes, gentlemen? Tony, I would like to talk to you, privately for second." 

Peter didn't even tell her bye, he just got up and left the room. 

The ride back home was depressingly quiet. 

When they finally had made it home, Tony stopped him from leaving the car. 

"Peter?" 

The boy looked up, he felt worse than before they went inside Mrs. Smith's office. "Yes, Dad?" He felt childish with the way his voice cracked. 

"I'm so sorry." 

Peter lost count on how many times his Dad had told him that the last few days. 

His finger was still on the bare skin, and now his Dad had also noticed that. 

The only thing was though, his Dad would never see them. 

The cuts were gone, and they always disappeared, as if he never even held the blade. 

It makes him feel worse than he should've. 

Chapter Text

The living room was quiet, and to be honest, Peter wasn't really sure why he was in the living room, right now anyway. He had spend the last few days avoiding his Dad as best as he could, and, well everyone as well. 

Peter sat on the very edge of the sofa, hoodie sleeves in his fists, his eyes fixed on the floor boards like they were gonna rearrange themselves into a script he could somehow read from. 

He was watching a movie, which was still on, but Peter stopped paying attention as soon as his Dad walked in. Tony stood near the window, arms crossed, pretending he wasn't looking at his son. 

So they were both going to avoid each other, thats just great. 

It had been awkward for days, the kind of awkward that felt like trying to walk through a gelatin. Whenever they did talk, his Dad was being too.. he would keep over-smiling, over-explaining, and over doing literally anything he could do. Peter did the complete opposite, and now that he had Spider-Man back as well, he would try his best to avoid seeing his Dad at home as best as he possibly could. 

Tonight wasn't that much different. 

"So," Tony finally spoke up. "Got any homework? And how's the Spider-Manning going for you, Underoos? Can I still call you that, actually? I'm gonna keep calling you that. The weather's all nice too, today, isn't it? Gosh, Peter, please just pick a topic of one of those things so that we can actually talk for once." 

Peter blinked, a bit confused with how fast his Dad was talking. "...What?" 

"Conversation starters." The man told him, clearing his throat. "Y'know, bonding. Thought we could, er, use it." Another embarrassing pause. "I googled it, but honestly google is such an amateur website and then I asked FRIDAY but, somehow she was, well, not any better." 

Peter snorted under his breath despite himself, eyes still on the TV, but that little thing gave Tony a little courage to sit down, apparently. 

"I'm, I'm trying here, kid." Tony told him, his voice softer. "And I know I screwed up, like big time, I get that and I'm so, so sorry." 

Peter stilled, his shoulders hunched but he didn't say anything. 

"And I know, that the last few months were, well. Not the, not the best, definitely. We've been arguing a lot, and that, might be on me as well. Me finding about the Spider thing you've been doing didn't help us both with that either."

His Dad exhaled. "But, I don't want to talk about Spider-Boy, right now."

"It's Spider-Man"  Peter corrected him in a mumble. 

It went quiet again, and Peter kept his eyes on the movie, blurring out the noise, his Dad mostly did the same. Minutes passed before the man actually started to speak up again. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony asked, a bit gentler this time. 

Peter swallowed, hard, trying to keep his hands from trembling. He knew what his Dad was on about, and he didn't want to talk about it, the last session humiliated him enough. 

He was surprised that his dad avoided the topic for so long, the thing he knew Peter has been doing.

His fingers twisted in his sleeves until the knuckles turned white. 

"I," Peter started then stopped. 

"Peter?" Ned spoke up, looking at him worryingly. 

Peter looked up from his notebook, where he was scribbling something onto. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" 

The brunet furrowed his brows, confused on where his friend was going about this. "What do you mean?" 

"You've been acting weird the last few months, and, I don't know.. just wanted to make sure that you're okay, dude." 

Peter forced a smile on his face, guarding his wrists with his sleeves, the very same wrist that was covered with cuts.

"Yeah, man. I'm fine, don't worry."

Peter went quiet again, his Dad didn't push to his surprise. He didn't raise his voice, or get angry, he didn't fill the silence with a sarcastic joke that no one besides him would find it funny. 

He just, waited. He was being patient in a way that was making Peter want to crawl out of his skin. His dad was never, ever, patient. 

"You could've," Tony murmured after minutes passed, that really, felt like hours. "You should've told me, or anybody."

"I couldn't," The words left Peter's mouth before he could stop them. "I don't, I don't think you get it, Dad. I couldn't just tell you, how was I supposed to tell my dad I barely talk to that I do that?" Peter told him, letting out a bitter laugh afterwards. 

"What was I supposed to say anyway? 'Hey, Dad, by the way, sometimes I hurt myself because it makes everything else easier.' ? Who just brings that up in a normal conversation, Dad. No one." 

His Dad let out an exhausted sigh, it was obvious as day that he was unsure on what to say. 

It's not like it was anything new. 

Peter went quiet again, the regret instantly coming back towards him, regretting that he even thought about opening up his mouth. 

Tony leaned forward, hands clasped like he was scared they'd shake, and he had that expression on his face that Peter couldn't read.

"You should've told me, because I'm your dad." he whispered. "Because I'm supposed to protect you, from the world, from villains and aliens and-" His voice cracked, his eyes flickered towards Peter's wrists. "from yourself." 

Peter just stared at him, his breathing uneven. 

"Kind of, kind of your fault I didn't tell you though. I think." Peter blurted out, eyes on the movie where the end credits started to roll. "I know, I know that it might be a hard thing to accept, Dad but for m-most of my life you didn't even bother looking at me twice and now I'm supposed to just forgive because you realized that you were wrong and that I should have told you about me- about me using that fucking blade on myself?" 

His Dad's breathing got louder. "I don't, I don't.. I don't understand you, Dad. Like at all, you know when Morgan was born I was convinced something was wrong with me because you were able to- to love both Harley and her equally and I was just there. Pepper, it's not that different with her either. It's obvious that, that I'm the one out of place in this family." 

"Don't say that." Tony cut in sharply. "Peter, I know I fucked up, okay? I get it, I do." 

"It's just the guilt speaking, Dad. You don't actually understand." 

Tony looked like someone had punched him, he stood up again, facing Peter but the younger one was avoiding to look into his Dad's eyes as much as possible. 

"Then make me understand, Peter. Please, just, I don't know what to do, okay? " 

Peter looked away sharply, blinking far too fast. 

"I'm sorry." His Dad told him. "I'm so sorry, Peter." 

His breathing was uneven, and Peter wanted to run away as far as he possibly could. 

Peter looked down at his hands, eventually he started to scratch on his wrist, trying to calm himself down, because he was not going to panic in front of his Dad. He couldn't afford to humiliate himself like that. 

Neither of them spoke, the room felt heavy, and it was loud. 

He could hear the city outside, the hum of everything that was going on. 

Peter tried to inhale, but it hitched halfway. A Tremor ran through him, the familiar kind, the one that came to him whenever something happened that made him want to disappear, not that he would actually ever do it. Peter was scared, he was terrified that it would hurt. Of what would happen after, and he wanted to convince himself that people actually cared about him and would be sad to see him gone in such a way. 

His Dad noticed. 

"Hey," the man said softly. "You okay there, Pete? C'mon, talk to me." 

Peter shook his head, his vision blurring. "I need.. I need air." 

Before Tony could say anything, Peter stood up abruptly the sofa creaked, he headed towards the door. His breathing was shallow, the walls too close and everything was being too much at once. 

"Underoos-" Tony stood as well, again, not grabbing him, just hovering. "You don't have to run from me." 

"It's not- I'm not.. I just, I just need a minute." Peter muttered, grabbing his suit, walking fast with his dad close behind him. 

His Dad opened his mouth, hesitating, and then closed it again. Peter doesn't know if he wanted to know what his Dad wanted to tell him. 

It was already getting quite dark outside when Peter started to swing around, the only reason why Tony let him leave was probably that their conversation got heated. Peter shook his head, trying to ignore whatever the hell happened earlier. 

Peter perched on the lip of a rooftop billboard, legs curled in toward himself as he stared down at the city that never seemed to sleep. The wind rushed past him, cool and constant. 

His phone buzzed inside the mask, with Karen's calming voice chiming. "You have been stationary for sixteen minutes, Peter. Are you taking a break?" 

"Not a break." He murmured, adjusting the mask. "Just.. thinking." 

Karen hummed. "Would you like a distraction, Peter? I can read you fun facts about raccoons." 

He huffed a small laugh through his nose. "Maybe later," 

Peter spent the next few minutes just staring at the city, finally feeling calmer than he did before. 

He hated that his Dad could have such an impact on him, Peter was supposed to not care, he was supposed to not care what his dad thought about him or anything- 

The masked boy let out a breath sharply, standing up soon after. "Alright, let's swing for a bit. Patrol checklist?" 

Karen began reading it out and he half listened, half fell into a billboard once again. The tension started to slowly leave his body as he continued to swing around. 

Peter stopped a guy trying to steal a bike, and he saved a lost cat from a dumpster, even though the so called cat tried to kill him with its claws afterwards. 

At least it didn't throw a building on him, like a certain guy Peter knew. 

He was on the way to another rooftop when his Stark Tech phone buzzed again. 

Unknown Caller

Peter frowned behind the mask. "Huh." 

Karen's voice came through. "Would you like me to screen it-"

"No, it's fine. Might be Harry, he gets a new number all the time to piss off his Dad." He landed on the rooftop, crouching, catching his breath as he accepted the call. 

"Uh..hello? Harry, that you?" 

Silence. 

Definitely not Harry then, Peter guessed.

He could hear breathing from the other line, shaky, the breathing trembling, so fragile it made something cold go up his spine. 

"Hello?" He repeated gently. "You okay, whoever this, er is?" 

Another inhale, wet and steady. 

Then a voice spoke up, a voice that was familiar, one he hadn't heard in years, one that comforted him, the one that helped him go to sleep, a voice tangled with memories of warmth and comfort, as well as fear and gunshots, spoke up. 

"..What's up, Peter." 

Peter froze, everything inside of him stopped. The rooftop tilted, the night tilted. Something deep buried under years of trying to forget snapped open in his mind. 

It couldn't be. 

No way. 

It couldn't be. 

His throat closed, a sound catching there, something half cracked and small. "Ms... Laine?" 

A faint broken laugh came from the other line, the kind that wasn't actually a laugh. "God, you still sound the same."

Peter staggered a step back until his spine hit a rusted vent. He pressed his palm to the side of the mask because it started to suffocate him. 

"You-" His voice cracked. "You disappeared. You were gone. You are gone. You said-, I thought.. I thought..?"

"Peter, before I go.." Ms. Laine started eyeing the door where Harley was trying to listen in from the other side. 

"Don't tell anyone what you saw, okay? That's very important that you don't do that, for you and me." Peter nodded, he kissed his forehead, stroked his hair one last time and shut the lights off. 

"Goodnight, Mini Boss." Peter doesn't know why her voice cracked, but it made the sadness he was feeling worse. 

Another shaky inhale from her side. "I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry."

Peter forced air into his lungs, the rooftop spun, the sky heavy and wrong and familiar in the worst way. 

"Why are you, why are you calling me?" He asked, in a hushed whisper, eying his surroundings. 

A pause. 

"Because," she said, voice shaking harder now. "I don't have long." 

A Chill clawed down his spine. 

"Who?" he asked, he knew someone was after her. The shadows behind the gunshots in his memory shaped like teeth. 

"I can't tell you that, you know this, Pete." She sniffed, and Peter tried to keep himself calm, thats what he needed to be. "Can you, I need you to meet me, Peter." 

Karen spoke to him quietly into the mask. "Peter, your heart rate is dangerously high. Should I alert Mr. Stark or should I active the-" 

"No. Don't do anything, Karen." He said, his voice embarrassingly shaky. 

Peter didn't know what to do, because Ms Laine.. the woman that practically raised him, the woman he never spoke about since the day he came back after those two weeks, the woman his family spoke about with dread and bitterness, was back. 

"..Where do you want to meet?" Peter asked, his hands trembling. 

It was silent on the other line, the only thing Peter could hear was her breathing. "I'll send you the coordinates, and I already know about your bug secret, so don't try to take too long."

Peter doesn't know why he's not surprised that she knows. 

Chapter Text

Peter shouldn't have come. 

He knew that, he wasn't stupid to not know that fact, and he knew his Dad was gonna freak out if he ever, ever finds out about this. This might be the stupidest thing he'll do, gosh, this might be even stupider than getting his pictures of when he was drunk leaked to the news. 

Peter doesn't know what to do, the last time he and Ms Laine were alone, the two were chased down by men in guns and doctors excited to experiment on Peter even though they would die quickly after. 

She would always tell him not to look, but both of them knew that secretly, Peter would always peak to look at the bodies and then cry if he saw blood. 

Peter shouldn't have come. 

And yet, he's standing wherever he was, right now. His hood pulled up, suit under a sweatshirt he always brought with him. 

The coordinates Ms Laine send him, were in the middle of nowhere in the city, there weren't a lot of cars and the streets were pretty empty so, that was one huge red flag for Peter. 

He shouldn't feel scared, Peter's Spider-Man, for gods sake. He can handle one woman who was probably shorter than him by now. 

"Can I though?" He asks himself, tilting his head. 

"Peter James Stark." The woman said in a harsh tone that made him flinch. 

He looked down at his feet, his knuckles scraped and red. "Yes, Ms Laine?" 

"Did I not tell you to wait in the car! Oh your in so much trouble mister-" 

Peter sniffs, trying not to cry, but then failing spectacularly. 

"What did I say about crying, Peter? And look me in the eye when I'm talking to you. Now what did I say about crying?" 

Peter turns his head to look at her just the way she wants to. "To not do it. 'M sorry, I was scared and it was loud!" 

The look on her face made Peter instantly look down on the ground again. 

"Nope. I can't." He responds to his own question, grimacing as he thought about that memory.

Peter feels his chest tightening.

He swallows and walks closer, going through a broken doorway just big enough for him to slip inside to. His heart was thumping hard and uneven, memories layering themselves in his mind like dust.

His ears were buzzing, he could hear the gunshots, the yelling and her telling him to be quiet.

"Stay quiet, Petey. Can you do that for me? Quiet." She told him, while the two were ducking behind a wall.

"But I'm scared, and my legs are hurting can we go home now-"

"Peter, what did I just tell you? Shut up! Quiet, now!"

Peter nodded, never letting the tears welling up in his eyes escape.  

"Peter?" a voice calls, deeper inside of the building, Peter walks closer towards the sound ignoring the anxiety chiming inside his body. "Mini Boss?" 

His breath catches. 

Even after all these years, he still knew how she sounded like. Even though his Dad tried to trash every single thing she was in, from pictures Peter had with her to photos and things she bought him. 

Peter remembers trying to protest, but quickly stopping afterwards after his Dad gotten mad. 

Ms Laine looked older. She had a few strands of gray in her hair now, and she was streaked with tiredness. Her coat was similar to the one she always wore when she was still with him. 

But her eyes, those soft, warm, kind eyes, are the same ones that read to him at bedtime, braided his hair when it had gotten too long, and held him close whenever he started to be jealous of Harley.

"You have me, Peter. You don't need them, okay?" She would always tell him, until she, eventually also left him alone.

Ms Laine's breath shudders when she see's him.

"God," she whispers. "Just like your Mother, through and through. Just like..Mary."

 Peter froze, trying to stop his hands from trembling. Everyone always told him that he looked just like Tony, acted like him as well, apparently but no one ever told him that he was like his Mother. 

Because no one actually knew her.

He doesn't really move, he looks her in the eye, his voice embarrassingly shaky. "You, uhm, you, er called me."

"I did." She steps closer, looking at him in awe. "I wasn't sure if you'd come. Though, I'm not surprised, you've always been a rather clingy child." 

Peter huffs a humorless laugh. "Yeah, well. You disappeared for years. And practically threatened me over the phone, Ms Laine." 

The woman's smile falters, pained. "I deserved that."

The silence started to linger, making Peter more uncomfortable as time went on. 

Then she gestures to the crate. "Sit with me?" 

Peter hesitates, but then nods. She sits too, but not too close, giving him space. 

Ms. Laine inhales shakily. "I owe you the truth. I had a lot of time to think, and.. for one my name is.. its not.. My actual name is 'Sabrina Müller.'. I need to tell you the truth, before I.. die, I guess." 

Peter's head snaps towards her. "What? No, no, you- I can.." 

She shakes her head gently, giving him one of those smiles she would always give him, signaling him to shut up. "I don't have long and I don't want you to hear this from someone else. Like Tony for example or Virginia." 

He feels himself go cold, it was obvious that she never liked his Dad or Pepper but she never spoke their names with that much bitterness. Or maybe she did, but Peter was too young to even grasp the fact that she did that. 

"Peter," Ms. Laine- no, Sabrina begins softly. "As I just said, my name is Sabrina Müller. I'm German, and before I worked with the Starks and before I worked with you.. with Mary.." her voice catches. "I was involved in something very, very ugly. Bad people, bad operations. I was raised to be an agent since before I started walking. My parents were also agents, so, everyone in the family was. I was young and stupid. Really stupid, Peter. I thought I was doing something meaningful, something to help the world become part of a  greater good." 

She looks down at her trembling hands. "I wasn't. I was helping monsters without realizing it." 

Peter's stomach twisted, she looks so different, suddenly. Like he was seeing her in a new light, not the same nanny that would scold him if he ate to many candy or didn't do his homework because it was boring. 

"Your mother.. Mary, she, she saved me." Sabrina continued quietly, a fond smile on her face appearing as soon as she mentioned Mary. "Mary took one look at me, just one and told me I wasn't staying there, not on her watch. She dragged me out. I mean this literally, Peter she actually dragged me out. She risked her entire reputation, her clearance, everything to help me get a new life. Even kicked her ex boyfriend at the time out because he didn't like me, I think his name was Richard or something?"

Peter blinks, the air felt too cold. 

"She never told Tony, when she got knocked up, I mean. Which I found incredibly stupid, you wanna tell me, you got knocked up by a billionaire and didnt even try to blackmail him? But then again, Mary was always the better one out of the two of us." 

"I thought, I thought my mom and dad never actually just knew each other?" Peter let out, tilting his head. 

"Knew him." Sabrina scoffs. "Your mom was obsessed with Tony Stark. I never got the appeal, figures he didn't remember her, I always told her that he was an asshole she just didn't.. if she just.. whatever. She was infuriating with him, in any way possible. And for your information, the two slept together more than once, he just never remembered." 

Peter cleared his throat, trying not grimace, as if that wasn't the most uncomfortable news about his parents ever told to him.

Sabrina shook her head, then opening her mouth again. "Sleeping with Anthony Edward Stark was the stupidest and dumbest decision she ever made, and I stand by that." 

Peter snorts without meaning too. "Yeah, I'll agree on that."

A small smile tugged on her lips but then it fades, to something deeper. 

Guilt. 

"She got pregnant with you, eventually. I never quite got the appeal for pregnancy, she got pretty fat as well, you know? She left the field, which was so stupid of her to do, it was her everything. She and I- we, we argued." Her voice shakes. "I said cruel things, some very cruel things which made her leave. She walked out of our apartments door and never came back."

Peter was unsure on what to say, as he stared at his hands. 

Is this why she called him? To tell him her origin story? 

She hasn't even asked Peter how he was, or anything, she was only talking about herself. 

But then again..maybe she, maybe she always was this way but Peter never actually realized it. 

"When I finally learned that she died and that no one other than Anthony had custody of you. I knew I had to do something, I was supposed to be your godmother, you know? Before all the shit went down." 

Sabrina swallowed hard. "I needed to make sure you were okay, but I knew I had no right. So I forged a few documents, and it wasn't that hard, to be honest. I changed my identity, became your nanny."

Peter finally encouraged himself to say something. "But you didn't plan on staying as long as you did, did you?"

"No," she murmurs. "I wasn't. I'm not good with kids and never was. But you were different, you were so small and.. so quiet, so bright. You had so much Mary in you. I thought I could keep you save from the world. And look at you, Peter. You turned out alright, you've gotten so tall as well and not to mention the bug thing.." 

Peter's breath fails. "Why did you take me? You know, when you... what did you think.." he asks ignoring the last part her statement. 

Sabrina's shoulders shake, "I wanted to take you somewhere safe with me, I thought I could keep you  safe and take care of you, did all the other years in that giant home where we two were the odd ones out, didn't I?" 

Peter didn't want to be mad, but he was. 

"WE" She said, as if she was the one who being neglected by his family. 

Though, she didn't mean it that way. 

She sighs, looking down at her hands. "Somewhere no-one would find us. But someone did, someone I thought I got rid off years ago. They found me and you got caught in the middle, I'm sorry...I" Her voice breaks for the first time. "I'm so sorry." 

He sucks in a shaky breath. 

It was obvious that she noticed something. 

"I saw the news." she said softly. "Spider-Man, I wasn't even surprised when I figured it out. Of course your Spider-Man, you have all that braveness and recklessness from Mary inside of you. It's in your blood to become a superhero, I doubt anyone would be shocked." 

Peter huffs a wet smile. "Dad's a superhero, and he's gonna freak if he finds out I'm with you." 

She furrows a brow, a smile on her face. "Oh, yeah? How is your relationship with him anyway? Are you two still, I mean is Harley still the golden boy he is?" 

"He's making me go to therapy with him." 

Sabrina snorts, then grimaces and pats him on the shoulder. "Oh well, that's.. better than nothing? I think I would jump off a cliff if I had to do that with Anthony." 

It went quiet again. 

"It's, it's getting pretty late, yeah?" Sabrina told him, as soon as her phone buzzed. 

Peter nods, understanding what she wants quickly. "I should probably go home, dad's probably freaking out as we speak." 

Sabrina squeezes his hand before she leaves. "Your Mother would've been so proud of you, Peter." 

He looks at her. 

And knows, this is goodbye. 

This time, it's forever. 

He leans forward, wraps his arms around her, the same way he did when he was a kid. She stiffens, but she hugs him back. 

Sabrina pulls back, cupping his cheeks the way she always did. 

"Go home, Peter." 

Peter nods, not able to talk because of the lump inside of his throat was forming but a tear left his eye. 

The woman smiles wiping it away. "What did I say about crying, Peter?" 

He looks at the ground. "To not do it." 

Sabrina lets out a weak laugh, shaking her head. "You never listen, you reckless boy. Just like your mother. Go now." 

Peter looks at her one last time, and then starts to walk away.

This was goodbye. 

He turns his phone on as soon as he left the building, seeing the tons of delivered messages. 

Peter should really make his way home.