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Chapter Text

Peter held a blank expression as he suited up. This was routine for him now, but he still felt the reminders of that giddy sixteen year old being allowed on his first mission with the Avengers as a whole. Well, after the battle with Thanos.  But then again, he didn’t have the time to process that. Being thrown headfirst into battle and then Tony almost dying.

Peter had been on multiple missions with the Avengers now. And over time he’d proved himself. Sure, there were still the odd times where he’d have to camp out to protect goods or act as surveillance helping out Sams drones. But more often than not he was in the thick of it which he loved. And although he wouldn’t admit it, he did like to take some missions easy. And the mass of responsibility was still there which oddly helped to ground him and help him keep his cool, now at least.

The perks of being a versatile member.

Although no matter how many missions he’d went on, no matter how many patrols, Tony’s worry was still yet to subside.

”You know the drill right?” Tony questioned the seventeen year old, looking as the boy materialised the suit around his body. Making sure to leave the mask off for the time being.

“Yes Mr. Stark.” Peter grumbled. Taking out his web fluid cartridges and giving them a once over. Blowing away dust on the inside of the web-shooters.

“And if you’re in deep waters you find the quickest route out of there.” Tony spoke again, his own suit beginning to materialise.

”Yes Mr. Stark.” Peter muttered again, a small giggle coming from the corner which he pinned down as Clint. Sending a web his way and pinning his arm to the wall. A mocking smile along with it.

”And if you get injured you tell me straight away.” Tony told the teenager. Not a question this time. A statement.

”Yes Tony.” Peter groaned this time. Glancing to the man. “I’m not a kid anymore. I know how this works.” He spoke to him. “I’ll be fine. I always am!”

”Peter you got shot last time.” Tony deadpanned.

”Just a little one!” The teenager spoke in a poor attempt to defend himself.

”A bullets a bullet!”

“Can someone get this thing off my tail!” Sam shouted down the coms. A drone following the man.

”I’m on it!” Peter replied with a groan. “Always having to save your ass, Samuel!” He called. He didn’t mind it though. In a way he saw it as doing what he could never do for may. Keep her safe. He managed to shake off, pin down a few HYDRA members and shoot a web off towards the drone. Feeling it attach down the web. He gave a small little finger salute to the men before allowing himself to be pulled away by the drone. “This thing can hold some weight..” Peter mumbled. Usually not a good sign. But it was gaining on Sam. And judging by how much it could hold he’d have no chance pulling it down. Clearly made for them in mind.

And that was Peters mistake. Arrogance. It was made with the Avengers in mind. That included spiderlings that would be able to climb onto it.

With the battle starting to wind down in the Avengers favour, Peter made his way up to the drone. Holding onto it while he searched for a panel to snip some wires and bring it down. With no obvious propellers, it made Peter wonder how this thing could even fly. “Clearly HYDRA made some upgrades.” Peter spoke.

”F.R.I.D.A.Y get me a scan on that thing.” Tony spoke to his suit AI the moment he heard the remark through coms

”Yes boss.”

Just as Peter began to pry off the hatch, he’d grown a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had to stop this thing. Now. Spider senses going haywire, picking up a new electric signal. “Sam get away from this thing now!” He called. He’d have a better chance grabbing ahold of something. The webs would snap. He couldn’t pull it down. But he could have a chance at holding it still.

Peter wrapped one arm around the drone. His body hanging from the side. “Sam! Lead it to that lamppost!” Peter shouted. Bracing as Sam done just that. He reached out his other arm almost like a hook. “God this is going to hurt..” he muttered just before his arm wrapped around the pole. The impact causing the bones in his upper arm to shatter and his shoulder to dislocate. But he still held on. “Sam go now!” He ordered through gritted teeth. Clearly in pain but nothing that his enhanced healing couldn’t fix.

”Sir, the device has a bomb implanted into it.” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke up to Tony.

”Peter get out of there now-“ before Tony could finish, the explosion went off. Peters line instantly cutting. Tony couldn’t see much. Other then the faint shape of a body falling in the smoke.

He didn’t hesitate, rushing forward to the boy he begged to not be dead. And strangely, was relieved to hear the agonising screams from the body as he moved closer. Although the sight? Not so much.

Peter hadn’t noticed yet. But his arm had been blown clean off at the shoulder. His hair burnt off on just over half his head. Burns covering exposed skin that explosion had caused from destroying the suit. All Peter knew was that he couldn’t see out of one eye. And he could barely hear.

Peter was held down by Clint in an attempt to keep him still. Which caused him to panic. Until he saw Tony. “Tony- Tony what-“ he turned to look at his body. Breathing pausing for a moment. Heart beating out of his chest twice his normal rate when he saw his missing arm. And then chunks of it discarded further away. His body willed for him to scream. But nothing would come other than small whimpers and the sound of his breathing becoming more and more laboured.

Eventually, before he could process what hat happened, a small sob escaped. Tony turning his head gently away from the lack of limb and back towards the mentor while Bruce applied pressure to the wound. He couldn’t apply a tourniquet. There was nothing there for it to be applied to. A small cry left Peter as Bruce was forced to apply more pressure. Tony shushing him gently. “Shh.. shh you’re going to be okay.. gonna be just fine..” Tony spoke, his voice cracking giving away the tightening of his throat. Holding the hand of peters broke arm close to his chest. He couldn’t feel that either.

”Can’t see properly.. dark..” Peter rasped out. “Dots..” he clarified without needing to be asked. Clearly he’d been injured too many time to count on two hands.

The downside to being Spider-Man? He didn’t really have any defence other than the suit. But that didn’t stop everything.

Tony turned to Bruce. He was, by no means an expert. But he knew that wasn’t a good sign. “You’re gonna be fine.. he’s gonna be fine right Bruce? He’s gonna be okay.” He searched for reassurance from Bruce. For him or Peter he didn’t know. But his heart sunk when he didn’t get a response. And the ever-growing pool of blood wasn’t doing him any favours either.

Tony watched helplessly as Peter began to grow more distant. He could see it in the way his eyes lost that worry. The way they unfocused. And no matter how much coaching, begging and coaxing he done he couldn’t bring Peter back to the present day. He watched as Peter continued to slip. Until Peters vision grew black entirely. His eyes still open.

Occasionally Peter would drift in and out of consciousness. Once on the quinjet, twice on the way to med bay, and three times when there. Each time he’d get a glance of a distraught Tony. He swear he saw a few stray tears once or twice. He’d try to move his left hand. The hand that was missing. He could feel it. He could move it. But it wasn’t there. And he’d forgotten that.

Eventually, after three agonising days for Tony, Peter began to show signs of waking up. It took a further three hours for that to happen. The boy looking around the room. He could hear better at least. But he still couldn’t see out of his left eye. “Tony..” he called. The other rushing to the side of the bed that Peters head was facing. The spider smiling softly to him. “Can I sit up..” he asked. “My hip hurts..”

Tony nodded slowly. Moving the bed so it was angled up slightly. It did bring some visible relief. “So.. what’s the damage this time..” the teenager chuckled forgetting the severity of his injuries. Half blind and half deaf wasn’t exactly hard to miss though. Ordinarily Tony would shoot an unamused glance Peters way, but this time he couldn’t exactly blame him.

Tony grabbed Peters file, moving to sit down beside the bed. Peter knew this was going to be a long list. “Two broken ribs, six fractured, shattered left knee and right shoulder, bruce says you’ll need an operation for those. Shattered left femur and right humerus- again more operations. Second degree burns on 27 percent of your body, you’re lucky it was only second degree. Half blind you won’t get that back, perforated left eardrum although that hearing loss is only temporary and clearly you haven’t lost it all, broken pelvis on your left side, there was quite a bit of shrapnel and uhm..” he trailed off. “Your left arm got blown off at the shoulder..”

Peter didn’t respond for a minute. Just looking down at his body. “I really fucked up this time huh..” he whispered. “Will I.. be able to go back to being Spider-Man?” He asked, looking up to Tony. Anxiety etched onto his face. He was terrified to say the least. His amputation was covered, not wanting it to overwhelm Peter. He was grateful for that.

”Right now I think hero business should be the least of you worries, Pete..” Tony spoke softly. Running his hand through what was left of Peters hair. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your spine..” he muttered. He watched as Peter only nodded, remaining silent now. Tony didn’t push for the boy to talk. It was a lot to take in for a seventeen year old. He was going to be in pain for the rest of his life. At least from the amputation.. although it was strange to not hear the kids constant ramble.

Three weeks later and Peter was cleared to leave med bay. He was to be on majority bedrest although lying on the sofa was also fine, when he was up and about he was wheelchair bound, and he was only allowed to sit for an hour at a time. The surgeries were successful and now it was just a waiting game for him to heal.

His healing was slower than usual, Bruce suspecting because of the amount of injuries. His amputation had healed, which Peter was still struggling to come to terms with it. Often times he’d try to grab things with it such as cups, which would lead to an awkward interaction and leaving him in a sad state.

He was basically dependant on other people but mostly Tony. Unable to eat or drink on his own, needing to be fed, needing a hand being bathed, dressings changed, getting dressed, going to the bathroom. Every single aspect of his life. They tried to keep it as modest as possible. But Tony had saw a lot more than Peter would ever want him to see. He saw him at his worst. At his lowest point. He was seventeen with a carer. No biological family. Orphaned. His freedom had been stripped from him. And they didn’t know if it would be permanent.

During the time he’d also grown closer to Bucky. He knew what it was like. Struggling to adjust to a huge change such as an amputation. Even now. Bucky struggled with the phantom pain daily. And was always there for Peter to help him through it when it was particularly bad. At this point F.R.I.D.A.Y had him on speed dial. And when Bucky took his arm off, he’d still act like he had it on. It was like a punch to the gut each time so of course he’d help Peter out with it.

Clint also helped out with Peters hearing loss. It hadn’t shown any signs of improvement, but Bruce was adamant that it would given time. His body was just healing other things. He’d write down for Peter what was being said when he couldn’t hear properly. Peter knew they didn’t mean to, but people would forget. Used to Clint’s lip reading and hearing aids. And plus, this was a good opportunity to learn sign language. Kept him busy at least.

Steve would do the heavy lifting, carrying from the wheelchair to the sofa, or to his bed. And days where the chair was too uncomfortable Steve would carry him around the compound. Carefully, of course.

Nat and Pepper would help to dry Peters hair after his baths, help Bruce with changing dressings, would pick out his outfits because god Tony has no sense of style when it came to anything other then suits.

Bruce would do all the medical stuff. Check ups, warn Peter to take breaks, give him his medication to take.

Everyone helped out in some way. He was immensely grateful for them. They’d made it clear that he wasn’t a burden. But still.. he couldn’t shake the feeling. They all understood though. At some point they’d all been injured or just couldn’t deal with a day and they’d need support from others. They’d do it again for Peter in a heartbeat.

Peter was currently sat in the wheelchair next to the sofa, watching the tv with subtitles on. He wanted to curl up in a ball. He wanted to be in his room locked away. But Tony wasn’t having that. He didn’t want Peter left alone in this state. Mentally and physically. A few days earlier Peter had accidentally let slip during a breakdown that he’d wished the explosion had killed him. Or that he could overdose on tablets. He wished he was dead. The kid had it in his head that he’d never get better. He’d never be the same as before. And that was a very real possibility. Tony couldn’t blame him for the suicidal thoughts. But he also wasn’t about to let underoos die. So of course, he wasn’t letting Peter out of his sight.

Tony had been sleeping in Peters room. Not by Peters own choice. He needed someone there during the night incase he needed anything. The roll would be shared between Tony, Clint, Banner and Bucky. Originally Peter was meant to call F.R.I.D.A.Y to get someone. But he didn’t unless he needed the bathroom. Which often meant he’d be found in agonising pain or fallen out of his bed. So the decision was made.

Tony couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been. A teenagers room was their safe space. Their private domain. And Peter had lost that.

“Hey Pete, you want me to move you to the sofa?” Steve asked the boy, Tony peeking up when he heard the man speak. Watching as Peter only nodded. He’d been under the weather today. More than usual. They were getting into the early hours of the evening and he hadn’t heard the kid speak once.

Tony stood, making his way over and gently fixing peters hair before grabbing wires, IV tubes and the back of the wheelchair. When Steve lifted Peter out, Tony moved the chair back and brought the pole that held the IV and monitors closer to the sofa. Sitting down beside the boy when Cap put him down.

Peter immediately moved to Tony’s side. Hiding there. “I’m not going to get better.. am I..” he whispered. “This is my life forever..”

Peter felt Tony shake his head. The boy not looking up though. He could hear a muffled “We don’t know that.. think positive..” which caused him to chuckle. Not a happy one. It was hollow. Depressed.

”Easy for you to say..” he whispered. “I wonder how Sam is holding up..”

Damn kid thinking about others.. it was no secret that Sam was struggling. Blaming himself. Struggling to come to terms with what had happened to Peter in the sense that it should have been him. Of course, Peter denied that. That it wasn’t Sams fault. Insisting that he was fine when it was clear as day that he wasn’t.

Every day, multiple times a day, Sam would apologise. To which Peter shut down insisting he didn’t have to. But that never seemed to satisfy sam. Understandably so. Peter knew that if the rolls were reversed he too would be crushed with guilt.

”It’s easy, yes.. but do you remember when I was kidnapped? I thought I was going to die back there. Still.. I pressed on. Things got better.. I married my wife, I made new friends.. found you.” He spoke softly. “Even if this is the new norm.. it won’t be the end of everything for you. And I’ll make it as smooth as can be..” Tony gently ran his hand through the teens hair.

” But that’s the point..” peter muttered. “I don’t want it to be smooth.. I want it rocky and bumpy and scary and how it used to be..” Peter mumbled. “My life isn’t worth living if I can’t live it..” Peter looked up to Tony. Tears welling up. Throat clenching.

Tony gently wiped away a few tears from the kids cheeks. “What do you mean, roo? You have a life.. you’re living it now.”

Peter shook his head. “No. I’m not. I’m living it through you. Through all of you.” He stressed. “I want to live my life. I want to be responsible for myself. Tony I can’t even wipe my fucking ass!” He shouted. “I can’t put on a shirt! I can’t hold a pen! I can’t write!” He let his tears fall full force. “I can’t walk Tony!”

Tony let out a soft sigh. Now he got it.. “Pete that doesn’t mean you won’t have a good quality of life.. you can still see things. Still live it. Make memories, see wonders..” he used a tissue this time to wipe away the tears. “Sure it’ll could be different. A little, a lot, you could have a small limp and live with phantom pain, or you could live like this..” he spoke gently. Trying to chose his words carefully. “But it’s still your life.. you can still live it..”

Peter listened but didn’t say much. He didn’t like relying on others and Tony knew that, fully understanding why. He didn’t know a single person who did. It would be a huge adjustment if that were to be the case..

Tony frowned and moved to lie down, arranging Peter so he was joining Tony. Peter hid in his chest, left hand reaching to grab the shirt but, oh yeah, it wasn’t there. Instead he just moved and buried further into the crook of his neck. Platonic cuddles.. how did Tony always seem to know when he needed them. From something as big as this, to something tiny and minuscule compared to it. Tony always knew when he needed a hug.

TBC

Chapter Text

Peter fell asleep in Tony’s hold after an hour or two. And when woke a few hours later, he found himself back in his bed. Now who moved him.. he was fine where he was. The boy sighed, looking over to the time, still the early hours. 3:28am to be exact.

Peter winced when he felt pain shoot down the arm that wasn’t there. He could feel the sharp pain that he’d experienced before the explosion blew it off. But it wasn’t short, it was constant. Worsening in waves. Trying to keep quiet but unsuccessful.

Turns out the person camping out on his floor was Bucky. Well, that worked out. He stood quickly, stopping Peter from accidentally rolling off the bed. Carefully sitting him up and setting the teen on his lap. “Hey.. hey shh you’re okay.. you’re okay it’ll pass..”

He found with helping Peter, telling him the arm wasn’t there didn’t help, telling him he’d lost it ages ago didn't help, telling him that the pain wasn’t real didn’t help. Maybe for some, but not Peter.

The constant reminder that he was missing an arm would only make him worse in states like this. Panic attacks and meltdowns. Almost like he’d forgotten and each time someone would tell him he didn’t have an arm, especially when he didn’t have an arm so the pain couldn’t be there, his system would reboot, memories of the explosion unleashed, and all he knows is what he sees. Trapped in a wheelchair for God knows how long, with no arm.

Besides. He’d never tell Peter his pain wasn’t real mentally or physically. Peter felt it. Peter knew it was there. It was real to Peter, so it was real to Bucky.

Bucky lent further down towards peters ear so he could hear better. “You’re okay.. deep breaths.” Bucky spoke softly. “Come on now.. in..” Bucky breathed in until his lungs were full. His hand on rising on Peters back suggesting he was trying to do the same. “That’s it.. and out..” he then let all that built up air out over the course of a few seconds. Repeating that a few times before Peter began to seem more in the present day.

“Back with me?” Bucky spoke softly, feeling the teenager nod shakily against the soldiers chest. “You want to describe it?” Bucky asked feeling like was was walking on egg shells. Not Peter’s fault of course, he’s just never asked that before.

Peter paused for a moment. “It’s.. weird..” he whispered. “When it happens I can’t tell if I’m crying because of the pain. Or because my brain convinces me I’m going to die.” He whispered. “When I feel it as bad as it gets, it’s like my brain dumps me back there.. and yeah, I’m experiencing a shit tonne of pain. But I’m also just a kid holding a bomb. That then goes off.. and I don’t know if I’m sobbing because of the pain. Or if it’s because I now know what it is and I’m terrified..”

Bucky listened the entire time, not interrupting once. Holding the kid closer the more he explained while also being wary of his injuries. Bucky thought for a moment before speaking up. “Tony wanted to be the one to ask you this.. but.. I feel like you need your options opened now..” he spoke softly. He noticed the teen look up at him from the shine the moon gave the tear streaks. Bucky carefully wiping them away.

“Now keep in mind this is only what I’ve been told.. but when Tony got rescued from being kidnapped, he thought he could handle it on his own. And he was doing great all things considered. But when New York happened.. when he carried that nuke through the wormhole.. when he thought he was going to die so many times that night. It all got a bit too much.” Bucky spoke.

“Yeah, yeah he already told me all this..” Peter mumbled. “He thought he could handle it, turns out he couldn’t, got therapy and can cope better.” Petter mumbled.

“Yes well.. would you consider it? Therapy? It doesn’t have to be the same therapist if you don’t want it to. It might not help straight away. It might take a while to find a one that suits you.. but it is an option that’s out there.” Bucky spoke. He knew that was a heavy question. Especially when Peter was already relying on so many people, he was sure that Peter would feel bad if he relied on one more.

“Can I.. can I sit on it? Think about it?” Peter asked softly.

“Of course, Pete..” Bucky smiled kindly and ruffled his hair gently. “How about we go watch some movies huh? I’m sure you’re going to be awake the rest of the night?”

“Star Wars.” Peter spoke as a matter of fact, causing the man to chuckle.

“Star Wars sounds great.”

Star Wars was great. He laughed harder than he had in the past three weeks. And that was an amazing sound for Tony to wake up to. “How’s Roo feeling today?” He asked Peter. Fixing up a coffee. “What you feeling for breakfast?”

“M’ good. Think Buckys a bit tired of the Starwars.” He didn’t catch the last bit since the man was on the other side of the room. Turning to Bucky with a puzzled look.

“What do you want for breakfast” the man repeated, Peter’s mouth making an “o” in understanding.

“Uhm.. I don’t mind.” Peter spoke. “Anything, I’m not picky.” He watched as Tony nodded a small snicker escaping his lips. Peter was probably the most picky kid he’d ever met. The man worked to cook up some scrambled eggs on toast. Making the eggs in the microwave for Peter, just how he liked them. Peter didn’t like how slimy they got on the pan.

Eventually the rest of the group began to filter in, Peter looking up to them and smiling each time. Clint plonking down on the other side of Peter, fully knowing he’d have to move when Tony came over. Signing a ‘How are you doing today?’ To the teen.

It took him a few minutes to grasp it. Unable to sign back with one arm out of commission and the other just.. vanished, he spoke back with “I’m good! Bucky n’ I watched Star Wars.” He smiled softly. He thought for a moment. Ned. Oh my god he hadn’t even told Ned or MJ. He’d been ghosting them for weeks.

“Uhm.. Tony? Is it okay if Ned and MJ come over today?” He asked. “I kinda still need to.. tell them.” Peter looked down to his lap sheepishly.

He didn’t catch the reply. So turned to Clint. “Jesus Christ Stark speak up!” Clint told the man. He didn’t mind signing for Pete. But they also had to learn to speak louder for him. ‘He says it’s fine.’ He signed to him.

“My phone, can you just like, send them a photo then tell them I’m fine or some shit? Ask if they want to come over today? I don’t know man I’m not good at this.” Peter muttered. Looking down at the floor.

Clint chuckled softly. “Pin?” He asked Peter. Grabbing the kids phone. “050564” he told the archer. Mays birthday. The man taking a photo of Peter, the kid pulling some wacky face he couldn’t describe. And Clint sent it off.

“Barton here, he’s fine, kinda. He’s alive by some miracle at least. Broken bones, missing arm. That’s why he’s been MIA.” He sent that off before starting another message. “He’s wondering if you want to swing by today.” He sent. Earning an instant “Jesus Christ what the fuck did he do?” and a “yes” from both of them.

“Happy will swing buy to pick you up after school. It’ll all be explained later.” Barton sent. Before slipping the phone back in Peters pocket and smiled softly. “It’ll be fine.” He reassured without Peter even asking to be. He could see it clear as day.

Then started the morning routine. Being fed, bathed dressed, he even managed to get a nap in before being woken up by Pepper. “Ned and MJ are here sweetie.. do you want some more sleep? I’m sure they won’t mind?” She asked.

Peter shook his head. “No.. no it’s fine..” his voice raspy and sore. “Oh for fucks sake who’s gotten me sick now..” he whispered.

Pepper frowned. She didn’t like that one bit. Could it slow down his healing more? “Come on.. let’s get that hair fixed..” Steve moved Peter to the chair, before Pepper fixed his hair. “Steve go tell Bruce Pete’s sick. But please, tell him to wait until Ned and MJ leave.”

Steve nodded and left, leaving the two of them alone. “M’ nervous..” Peter whispered. “What if they don’t want to be friends with me anymore.. m’ broken..”

“No.” The woman quickly shut down. Her tone very motherly. “You are many things Peter Parker. But you are not and never will be broken.” She took his hand gently. “If they don’t want you then that’s their mistake. But I doubt that will happen. They’re your best friends.” She smiled softly. “Come on.. you can’t delay this..”

Peter nodded slowly. Letting his hand slip from her hold and be wheeled out. Instantly bombarded by the two of them. Relentless questions of “what happened?” “are you okay?” “you lost a fucking arm?” “Peter you could have died!” He was grateful to Tony for shutting it down.

“Alright give spider a break.” He spoke softly. “Can I?” He asked once he turned to Peter. The kid nodding.

“Would be easier. I don’t remember half of it.”

“You what?!” Ned shouted.

“Ned.” Tony warned. “Sit down.” He ordered the two teens. Pepper slipping Peter along side Tony while she went to fetch drinks for everyone.

Tony sighed softly and handed the paper out of his ever growing file that had the injury list on. The room so tense Peter could cut into it like a slice of cake.

“We were out on a mission. It was supposed to be quick and easy. And it was. Up until Sam got a drone on his ass. Peter couldn’t pull it down. The webs would snap if he even tried. And he had nothing to hold onto so climbed up onto it and tried to cut some wires to bring it down. Before he could even attempt that, he figured out something wasn’t right with it.” Tony spoke. “I’m not entirely sure what happened next?” Tony turned to Peter.

Sam hesitantly walked in, standing next to Peter. He didn’t realise until the man spoke up but the moment he did he practically lent all his weight on his stomach. Sam wrapping his arms around him. “Hey kid..” he mumbled. Hand running through his hair.

“He told me to head to the lamppost. I didn’t know why.. but I was out of options. He hooked one arm around the lamppost, dislocating and shattering his shoulder on impact, and shattering his humerus. The other arm was wrapped around the drone.” He mumbled. Retelling the story. Turning back to Tony for him to finish it.

“By the time F.R.I.D.A.Y completed the scans, it was too late. I didn’t have time to tell him it was a bomb before it went off.” Tony whispered. Looking to Peter and Sam. Guilt written all over Sams face and Peter trying to help him the best he could without speaking. Peter didn’t want to speak.

His two friends sat there. Well. He assumed so. He wasn’t even looking at them. Eyes fixated down on the floor to his right.

“Will he be able to.. be Spider-Man again?” Ned asked.

Tony looked in Peter’s direction before responding. Silently shaking his head ‘no’ as he typed out a ‘we haven’t told him yet’. He showed it to the two of them while saying “only time will tell.” Time had told them. He wasn’t getting any better. If it did, he’d be able to what? Maybe feed himself? Maybe walk with braces? But this was as good as it got for now. Peter could never go back to being Spider-Man. Would never go back to how he used to be. Would never go back to being a normal teen.

And no-one knew how to tell him

Chapter Text

The truth hurts. And no one knows that better than Peter Parker.

“Hey, roo?” Tony called, leaning against the doorframe. “Can we talk?” His voice didn’t hold the same tone. It was dull and shaky. Packed with anxiety. No matter how Tony tried to hide it. But it was clear as day. Even with Peter half deaf.

“Yeah.. everything okay?” Peter asked. He was sat up in bed, looking to Clint. Was everything okay? This didn’t seem like it..

Tony didn’t give a response. Sitting down on the edge of Peter’s bed and took his hand. Taking in a shaky breath. “Clint could you just.. give us a minute?” Tony asked. Watching as Clint silently stood, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s not getting any better.” Tony spoke softly. “Your bodys finished with its healing.. Bruce doesn’t think physio will help a whole lot.. you’ll never get your full vision back.. or your hearing.” Tony’s eyes didn’t leave Peters face. “Hearing aids could help, but there’s no guarantee your hearing will be perfect.”

Peter didn’t show any expression. In a way he was expecting this.. it had been a week since he’d told Ned and MJ. And there was no obvious improvement that he’d noticed. “Can we do anything? Like.. braces? Like what Rhodey has?” The boy questioned

“We can certainly try. I can definitely make you a new arm. Whatever you need..” Tony mumbled.

Peter nodded slowly “So this is it then.. bye bye Spider-Man..”

“Oh Pete..”

As Tony promised, he made the arm and the braces. The hearing aids were a bit more tricky. Still being fine tuned to match his heightened hearing on his right ear. Still, Peter had been desperate to walk. He knew he’d be making it harder for himself, walking half deaf to then walking with okay hearing. He knew it would throw off his balance. But he was tired of being carried or wheeled around. He needed to be able to walk. Maybe if he walked.. he’d have hope of being Spider-Man again.

Peter was sat on one side of the room. Tony watching on the other. Steve and Bruce helping him to stand. Supporting him while he found his balance. “Okay..” Peter whispered. Slowly beginning to take steps forward. Leaving the two of them behind.

His legs were shaky. Weak. Resembling a new born deer almost. He figured that’s what happens when you don’t use them for a month. They have next to no strength behind them. He managed to get half way across the room when his right foot hooked behind his left heel, tripping him up.

Tony rushed forward. Managing to catch him and stop him from landing face first. He didn’t think he could move that fast anymore. “You alright kid?” He asked softly, helping Peter to sit down.

Peter didn’t reply. It had been two days. And he was stuck at this mark here. “Again..” he whispered. Looking to Tony. Determined to walk. He needed to walk. He had to..

Peter tried again, this time his legs giving out. Tony catching him once more. “Again.”

This time he tripped. “Again.”

This time his knee buckled. “Again.”

It was his- he’d lost count how many attempts he’d done. They must have been in that room for an hour.

Peter braced as he was helped up. It was easier to balance himself now. Easier to stand unaided. The first ten or so steps were a breeze. It was after that was the trouble now.

He’d worked it out from Tony’s strides. The room was about 10 strides long. Peter’s we’re about half of Tony’s right now. So 20 for him. Just ten more steps and he’d be home free.

Peter counted internally with each step. He wobbled a bit on the fifteenth. Ankle rolling. But was able to somehow catch himself. “Didn’t break it did I?” Peter’s legs were shaking Tony better check it quick.

Tony quickly crouched down. Checking the mechanics over before shaking his head. “No you’re good. Keep going.”

It took longer to complete the next steps. About twice as long as any other. At this point his legs were screaming. He could feel the knee replacement literally creaking and groaning. He could feel every single muscle in his legs cramp. But eventually he got there. Allowing Tony to grab him and his body to just completely sink onto the man.

“You done it..” Tony whispered. Hand combing peters hair back. “You did it.. well done..” Tony could feel a small smile tug at Peter’s lips. “So proud..” he whispered.

Peter was still mostly wheelchair bound. But life was getting a little easier. He could feed himself somewhat, providing it wasn’t soup or something liquidy. He could do his business on his own, he could move from his wheelchair to the sofa or his bed on his own. He still did need a hand. But it was easier for him.

He’d been learning sign language properly now too. It was helping a great deal with getting motion back in his right arm and fingers. As well as getting better at controlling his prosthetic arm.

Nothing was perfect or how he wanted it. But it was helping. A lot.

The truth hurts. And no one knows that better than Peter Parker. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t at least try.

TBC

Chapter Text

Keep trying.

Keep trying.

Keep trying.

That was what Peter had been telling himself. Just keep trying.

Until one day, something just clicked. It was another session, this time learning to walk with his hearing somewhat back to normal. It wasn’t perfect. But he’d take it. He looked to Tony, grinning from ear to ear. Able to walk laps around the room. Keep trying.

Tony wheeled Peter into the main room of the compound. Peter putting on the act of feeling sorry for himself.

“Hey kid.” Clint smiled softly to him. “You want a drink?” He asked, glancing to Tony. The other just shaking his head. Acting like today was not a good day.

Peter didn’t reply for a moment. Letting the sadness fester for a minute. Before speaking up. “No thanks..” he trailed off before standing. “Think I’ll get it myself.” He smirked. Walking over to the fridge like it was nothing, picking out an energy drink, tossing one to Tony and then reaching into grab another. Although he did have to use his teeth to crack it open. He didn’t have that finger strength yet on his right hand.

No one said anything. Stunned. They’d seen Peter stand. But it had always seemed like a struggle. They’d seen him hobble the small distance from the wheelchair to the sofa. But never the entrance of the main room, all the way to the back and pull the fridge door open.

Peter didn’t say anything to them. Turning to Tony who was grinning from ear to ear like a proud dad. “Lab?” He asked.

Tony nodded. Replying with “lab”.

Peter managed to get half way there before needing a hand from Tony. Sighing in relief when he was finally sat down at the desk. “I was thinking..” Peter spoke up to the man.

“Oh here we go..” he teased. Sitting down opposite him at his own chair. Cracking open his can.

“What if.. what if we made the mechanics in the braces stronger..” he whispered. “And then maybe I can go back to being Spider-Man?”

“No.” Tony spoke. “Absolutely no way in hell. Peter you almost died.” Tony pointed out like the kid didn’t know. “It’s my responsibility to keep you safe. And in the nicest way possible, you won’t last a day out there..”

“But Rhodey has braces too! He’s fine!”

“Yes and Rhodey is protected by a giant, weaponised, mechanical suit built to withstand pretty much anything thrown at battle.” Tony pointed out.

“Well Bucky! He can fight and he’s missing an arm!”

“And Buckys remaining limbs work perfectly fine.” Tony spoke as he tinkered with another prototype for Peters arm.

“Clint! He’s deaf an-“

“Peter no!” Tony spoke firmly this time. “You will die. That is it. End of. I let you out there to be Spider-Man again, you will be dead within the hour.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Look.. I get it. You love being him. You are him. But I have a responsibility to keep you safe. It’s too dangerous.. I’m sorry..”

Truth hurts. Peter Parker knows that better than anyone. But it doesn’t mean that he couldn’t try.

Peter was standing on the top of the old Avengers tower. He’d lied. Said that he was going out with Ned. Packed his old suit and headed to the tower. It was a pain in the arse to get there. Took him five hours. But he was here. At the top.

Peter was sure he was trespassing. He couldn’t remember if Tony still owned the tower. But the outcome of that wouldn’t change his mind. He slipped on the suit. Forming to his body perfectly. Seemingly hiding the braces which he was surprised about. “Hey Karen. It’s been a while.” Peter pointed out with a smile.

“Peter. You shouldn’t be wearing this suit. Should I contact Mr. Stark?” She asked.

“No- absolutely not. That is one hundred percent off the cards.” He mumbled. Walking to the edge of the building.

Truth hurts. Peter Parker knows that better than anyone. But it doesn’t mean that he couldn’t try.

Peter bent down. Placing his metal hand down, fingers spread out. He jumped up with his feet. Balancing solely on one hand. He’d almost fallen backwards off the edge. But was able to correct himself just in time.

A small laugh escaped Peter.

Tony was working on Peters new arm. Glancing up at the completer before back down. Wait a minute- he had to do a quick double take. Shoving the toast into his mouth as he clicked on the notification. “That fucking- F.R.I.D.A.Y tell Rodger’s he’s in charge until I get back!” He shouted. Suit materialising around him as he stood up from the chair. A small red blinking dot placed at the top of Avengers Tower.

Parker was laughing hysterically now. Adrenaline rushing through him. Okay maybe he was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. He missed this.

He switched from the palm of the metal hand, to the fingers, then four, then three, then two and then one. Grinning wider now. Before allowing the wind to blow him off the edge of the tower.

Tony’s heart sunk when he saw the dot move on the screen inside his suit. He was still five minutes out. What if something happened while he was this far out. He’d never get there in time-

Peter shot off one web, grabbing ahold of it when it attached. Then another. Swinging through New York. He hadn’t stopped laughing. The smile was causing his face to hurt. Flips and tricks. Hell he even managed to stop a kid from running into the road.

As he’d pass low on busy streets, he’d see bystanders stare in awe. Hear as they announced he was back. Oh yeah that was right. He was back in business.

He’d have no idea how he’d tell Tony though.

He looped back deciding to head back to the tower. But just as he was about to shoot his last web, the metal wiring that helped to control his arm snapped. His metal one stiff due to the cold at this altitude. “Oh shit-“ he remarked. Falling.

“Fuck-! Karen! Parachute!”

“The parachute on this suit is yet to be replaced-“

“Oh isn’t that just wonderful-!” He groaned as he was grabbed midair. Looking to who had caught him. “Tony! Old pal!” Peter tried to sweeten him up.

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Tony shouted. Looking to the teen who was at on the sofa.

“Hey! If the wire hadn’t have snapped I’d have been fine! I told you we should have just strengthened the mechanics!” Peter pointed out.

”Oh so somehow this is my fault? Peter I gave you direct orders! I told you no!” Tony argued.

“Why can’t I?! You walked around with shrapnel inches from your heart for years! Steve was a toothpick but was insistent on joining the army! Wanda couldn’t control her powers! You’ve got a god that spikes lightning if he gets too angry! You’ve got a man with braces! A man with no arm! A deaf archer! A man who couldn’t control a dangerous radioactive monster! Why can’t I?!”

“Because you’re seventeen! Because for the love of god you can’t die before me!” Tony shouted. “Because I care for you! So much that it nearly fucking killed me! Because you have people here that would die for you in a heartbeat! I’m not letting you throw your life around playing superhero Russian roulette!”

Peter shook his head. “You had no problems with it before..” he mumbled. Standing and heading to his room. Door slamming and locking it.

“Tony maybe you were too hard on him..” Steve mumbled.

Chapter Text

Tony rubbed his eyes as he wheeled away from the table in his chair. Looking to the new and improved braces and arm for Peter. Before glancing at the time. Steve and Tony had a long and lengthy chat the day prior about Peters future. Tony was still unsure about it. But he couldn’t exactly stop him. He’d realised that. Hell, it was literally in Peters blood.

Tony walked over to Peters room. Braces and arm in his arms and a suit to work with them in his pocket. He let himself in and sighed. He knew they weren’t on the best of terms. He didn’t want to tell Peter until the tech was tested and working. Didn’t want to give his hopes up.

Peter didn’t look up from his desk. Tony having to set the stuff down on-top of his work. Fishing out the suit from his pocket and holding it in front of him. Peter looking up at the man confused.

“You start with supervised patrols only.” Tony spoke. “No crazy missions. Someone will be with you constantly when you’re out on patrols.” He smiled softly. “And please don’t get yourself kille- umph!” Tony looked down to the boy who was hugging him tightly. Chuckling softly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Peter chanted in between laugher. Before quickly going back to inspect his new gear like a kid on Christmas.

Tony ruffled his hair. Walking out of the room to let the kid fiddle with it in peace. He swore when he walked past his room half an hour later he could hear a “he’s the best dad ever!” Coming from Peter, presumably on a phone call with Ned.

Tony’s heart was full.

Patrols were going great. There wasn’t a lot of crime now that Peter was back. So he spent most of his time mucking about. Much to the dismay of his babysitters and heightened Tony’s blood pressure tenfold.

“Pete come on be careful!” Tony called after him. Trying to keep up without causing alarm to citizens below. Although the laughter coming through the coms softened his heart to mush. He was glad to see Peter so happy again.

“Tony we need to roll out.” He heard through the coms. Rodgers. “Attack in upper New York.”

Tony and Peter stopped on-top of a building complex. “I trust that you will get home safe?” Tony asked Peter. Who nodded quickly. He wasn’t about to break this promise so easily.

“Cross my heart.” Peter spoke, making an “X” above where he thought his heart was.

“Wrong side.” Tony mumbled before leaving to where the battle was taking place. As promised, Peter headed back to the complex.

Peter watched the battle on the news as it was broadcasted. It was larger than the Avengers suspected. He’d been listening to it through the coms. They knew, of course they did. But none of them didn’t seem to mind as long as Peter stayed put. Which he did. Until it went south.

Tony was lying on the floor. Trying to hold back a punch from this- he didn’t even know what it was. But he was struggling that was for sure. He paused when the band moved back. Gearing up for another punch. Oh shit he wasn’t going to be able to block this. He tried to scramble away in a panic but couldn’t find his footing. Closing his eyes and bracing for an impact that never came.

Peter had swung down. Catching the attack with his bionic hand. “Tony get the fuck up!” Peter shouted. It sounded strained. This thing had some strength behind it.

There was a chorus of “Peter?!” Coming from every single Avenger. Followed by a muddied shouting of what he assumed was variants of “you were supposed to stay at the compound”

“Shut the fuck up none of you even noticed the fact Tony was about to be pummelled-“ he webbed a punch aiming for the back of Clint’s head. Pulling at the web to cause the thing to spin out of control and webbed it down. All while still holding onto this things fist. “Tony get up now-!”

Peter was picked up in an attempt to be flung off. But he ended up just sticking to the being and climbed down to its back. “This is like New York all over again..” he mumbled as he began to web up, what he assumed, was an alien.

“How do you know what New York was like? You would have been like six.” Tony spoke. Helping Peter bring this thing down.

“I’m the kid that was wearing the Iron-Man mask.” Peter chuckled. Glancing to Tony. When the beast was webbed up and secured, Peter jumped to the floor a small chuckle leaving him. Oh this was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Tony saw the determination in the way Peter held himself. A fire relit inside the boy, stronger than ever. “No! Absolutely not. Back to the compound now!”

“Oh come on Tony you need me!” Peter replied. Dodging an attack, laughter leaving him.

“Is it just me or is Spider enjoying this a bit too much-“ Clint spoke down the Coms

“You’re not the one that’s been cooped up inside for a month!” Peter called.

“Peter we had a deal!” Tony shouted as he fought off another attacker.

“Yeah and if I stuck by that deal you’d be dead and Clint would probably be too!” Peter pointed out. “Face it, you need me!”

“Tony! He’s here now we could use an extra pair of hands!” Steve remarked. Peter smirking. Swinging off to Steve.

“Just don’t throw another heavy thing at me, Cap.” Peter giggled as he joined in the fray. Climbing up walls, webbing people down. He’d even found he was better at hand to hand combat with this new hand. “So- fucking hell will you just take a time out!” He webbed the being to the wall, moving closer to take a look. “These are people..” Peter mumbled.

“Kid do you even hear yourself talking right now! Ain’t no way these are people.” Nat remarked.

“No! No they are!” Peter saw the fear. He knew that all too well. The look of absolute terror. Not knowing what was happening to them. It was like staring into a mirror. Bruce would see it too if he was looking.. “Genetically modified and forced to fight against their will.. puppets tied to a string.” He looked around. “So where’s the puppet master..” he muttered. Other avengers not being to hear the last part over the fighting.

Peter climbed the building the person was tied to, looking around the city from the top. Where.. where.. where- “There!” Peter shouted before taking off.

“Where’s he going?!” Tony shouted. Unable to get away from the monsters he was fighting. “Anyone got tabs on him?!”

“We’re all a bit preoccupied Stark!”

Peter crashed into the building through the window. Sliding into the beam to stop himself. “I hope you’re liking the show.” The man spoke. Turning to face Peter. “Hmm. So you’re back? Perfect. Just who I needed.”

How the fuck did Peter fall for this trap. It was so obvious. This man had been able to genetically modify these people successfully. Imagine what he could do with his blood. Oh shit.. imagine what he could do with Bruce’s..

“Tony. Listen. Don’t come for me until I say. And for the love of God keep Bruce away.” He spoke, voice shaking.

“Smart kid.” The man commented before starting the fight. Peter fighting with him while Tony demanded to know what was going on.

Half way through the fight Peter heard something snap. And his right leg give way. “Oh shit-“ he mumbled.

“Peter I’m on my way just hold on!” Tony shouted. Finally managing to break free of his own fight. Although his suit was severely damaged. Fifteen minutes and he’d be there.

“Karen give me an ETA on Tony.” Peter mumbled. Standing on one leg now.

“Fifteen minutes, Peter. Your injured. You should fall back.” She commented.

“No can do. Activate instant kill.” He ordered. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes he had to finish this and preferably not die. He was okay if he drove himself into the ground. If he could never be Spider-Man again. He’d made peace with that the moment the fight picked up its intensity. He’d be keeping his family safe. He’d be keeping his dad safe.

How could he tell Tony that. How could he tell someone he loved them. How could he tell Tony he saw him as his dad. That he saw himself as his kid. He didn’t know. But he’d hope he’d get the chance. He didn’t want to do it on a battlefield.

Peter fought. And fought. He kept fighting. He had to. He had to keep them safe. This could be world ending. He had to keep them safe- “Oh shit..” Peter mumbled. Looking down to the knife in his stomach. Clearly it was laced with something..

“Peter! Kid what’s happened!” Tony shouted. His voice sounded desperate.

“I’ve gotten all I’ve needed from you.” The man smiled before heading to the door.

“Rhodey. Do me a favour. Send six missiles to the old abandoned complex my the pier.” Peter spoke. Hiding the pain in his voice. “You know the one.”

“No! Rhodey don’t! Peter’s in there!” Tony shouted. “Kid what the fuck are you doing!”

Peter knew it was hopeless trying to reason. Pulling out his phone. Beginning to hack into Rhodeys suit using it. Turns out his hacking was actually for a good reason now.

“Stark! He’s overridden my suit!” Rhodey shouted down the coms.

There were demands coming down to Peters end as he releases the missiles. He couldn’t move from the building. He was too dizzy and weak.

“Listen to me. He has my blood. Imagine what that can do to this world. The damage it could cause. What if he gets Bruce’s? The world would tear itself apart for a drop of our blood..” Peter closed his eyes.

“Pete- we’ll find him! Just call off the missiles!” Tony begged his son.

“No can do.” He whispered. Looking out the window to see Tony. Missiles flying past him. He tried to shoot them down, but failed. “I love you dad..” he choked out around blood that was starting to come from his mouth. But he was smiling. He was okay with this. He was content.

He was keeping them safe.

He knew how to tell Tony he loved him. That he thought of him as a dad. It wasn’t how he wanted to, but it would have to do.

“Love you..” he whispered. Closing his eyes as the missiles hit. He heard the body of the man being crushed a few flights below. Before the floor he was sitting on caved in. And then the ceiling fell on top.

Tony desperately searched for Peter. Until the metal gloves broke off and his hands were gushing blood. He had to find him. He had to tell him. His son had to be okay.

“Tony!” He heard someone shout. He was too panicked to identify who. Just following the sound until he saw a red suit poke through the rubble. Quickly, and with the help of the other Avengers, Peter’s body was uncovered. And a sob was pulled from Tony’s throat. Immediately leaving his suit and rushing down to him.

He brushed some of the dirt from peters face. Crying uncontrollably at this point. “Bruce!” He shouted to the man who was checking for breathing. Desperate at this point. “Pulse but it’s weak.” He mumbled. Immediately beginning rescue breaths while they waited for medics to arrive.

Tony cradled Peters head in his lap. His tears mixing with the dirt on the child’s face. Kissing his forehead gently as he begged to whoever would listen to keep Peter alive. He wasn’t religious. But he had to keep his kid alive. And he couldn’t think of any other way.

Tony couldn’t get the way Peter looked at him out of his head. He was so peaceful. So at ease. So accepting of death. It haunted Tony more than his half dead body. He hadn’t left Peters side since he was allowed to see him in med bay. Holding the kids hand close to his chest and kissing his knuckles every minute or so. Bruce said he was stable. It was just a waiting game for him waking up. But Tony didn’t want to bet on that. Not with this kids track record.

He was there for a week. Until one Thursday afternoon, Peter woke up. He’d been taken off the ventilator a few days prior. Able to breathe on his own.

Peter saw a blurry, who he assumed, Tony. His sight still adjusting to the harsh lighting. “Da..” he rasped out. Tony immediately shooting up from his chair and gently squeezing his hand.

“I’m here.. I’m here..” Tony spoke as gentle as possible. “I’m here..”

“D’ I do it?” Peter asked.

The other nodded quickly. Cupping Peters cheek gently. “You done it, kiddo.” He smiled softly. “You done it, Roo..”

Peter smiled softly and lent into the touch. Tony’s hand had lost some of its callus. It was softer. But most importantly, it was warm. “Love you da..” Peter whispered. Closing his eyes. Not loosing consciousness. Just soaking in the warmth. His body was so cold..

“I love you too kid.. so much..” Tony whispered. Kissing the boys head gently.

TBC

Chapter Text

It took Peter a few days to notice his tremor that ran down his right arm. He’d been too out of it, too exhausted. Sleeping mostly. He’d also hadn’t eaten in days. But the tremor was what worried Peter the most. That and his legs. He couldn’t feel his legs or even move them.

Peters whole body moved as a result of the tremor. Looking to Tony as he walked in. “What’s wrong with me..” he whispered. “Am I dying? What’s wrong?” Peter questioned this time with more desperation.

Tony rushed over, shaking his head. “No Pete- you’re not dying.. it’s- you know it’s probably best if we get Bruce to explain.. F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Tony called for the AI.

“On it boss.” She spoke.

A few minutes later and Bruce walked in, hanging his white coat up by the door. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Could you just explain to Peter the tremor?” Tony asked, pulling up the hologram of Peters brain. A red dot in the middle of it.

Bruce nodded softly. “You sustained a rather traumatic brain injury due to the building collapsing.” Bruce started off with. “The frontal lobe here..” he gestured to where it resided. “And then your nuclei..” he moved the hologram around and zoomed in to the middle of Peters brain.

“We were able to stop the bleed in your frontal lobe before any lasting effects took place.” He spoke softly. “As for the nuclei.. not so much.” He spoke. “We did get the bleeding under control. However as a result, you now have what we call a Holme’s tremor. Otherwise known as a rubral tremor. Holme’s tremors can be seen in Parkinsons disease for example. But in very rare cases, it can be caused by traumatic brain injuries, such as a bleed. And rarer still it can be reversed. But I doubt that will be the case for you.”

Peter felt tony squeeze his hand. Nodding slowly. Although it looked more like a head shake, the tremor up his arm causing his whole body to move along with it. “And I’m assuming it’s constant..” he whispered.

“Yes.. it will happen both in a resting state, and when you move your arm.”

“How rare is it..”

“It was estimated in 2016 that 155 patients had a rubral tremor caused my trauma.” Bruce spoke softly. Watching again as Peter nodded.

“I can’t feel my legs.. I’m assuming paralysis?” He asked this time. “Can’t move them either.

“Yes. Time will tell if you regain function. Your spinal cord isn’t completely broken, so there is the chance. But I doubt you will ever walk again. Even with braces.” He frowned. “I’m sorry Peter.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Why are you apologising. I done this to myself..” he whispered. Closing his eyes. To keep them safe. He’d done this to keep his family safe.

Bruce didn’t respond to that. Instead changing the subject. “I’ll go get you some food.”

Peter looked to the food on the table with disgust. He was starving. He’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight whilst in med bay. But the idea of eating just.. didn’t sit right with him. Maybe it was because he’d only just gotten that function back. Able to eat on his own. And he’d lost it again within a week. Talk about whiplash.

“Come on Pete.. you need to eat something.” Tony spoke gently. Stabbing the fork into some of the pasta and holding it up to Peter for him to take from the utensil.

“I done it to keep you safe..” Peter whispered. “To keep you safe.. my family.. Ned and MJ, the world.. and now I’m burdening you again with this shit.” He whispered. His hand wobbled up to the fork and hit it away. “Just put me down like a fucking dog already.”

That made Tony pause. Shaking his head a moment later and taking Peters hand. “You’re not a dog. You’re my kid. You’re not a burden. You’re my kid. You’re important.” He spoke softly. “Look at me..” he watched as Peter shook his head. “Kid please..” he pressed two fingers to peters chin, turning his face to look to the older man. “You’re no burden. You kept us safe. A seventeen year old kid taking care of us.. a group of grown ass adults. You haven’t been taken care of a day in your life.” Well.. other then the last accident.

He was right about that.. he’d hadn’t. His dad was much like Howard. Always working. His mom had tried to be there for him, but she’d been battling with mental health long before he came along. When he was taken to Mays, they were already struggling for money. Throw in a child and the monthly expenses doubled. And so did Bens and Mays workload. He’d finish school, be babysat, see May and Ben all of five seconds and it would be bedtime.

“Let us take care of you kid..” Tony spoke softly. “You’ve worked your ass off for years. Missed out on a childhood that you can never get back. But don’t act all tough now, you know you can’t do this on your own.”

The truth hurt. Peter Parker understood that better than anyone. And this time he was too tired to try.

Chapter Text

Peter sighed as he was sat at the dining table, trying to eat some fries but with no hope. He threw the fork to the floor and pushed the plate away, a hand grabbing it at the end of the table to stop it from smashing, and surprisingly stopping any food from falling from the plate.

Pete looked up when he saw the man in front of him. “King T’Challa..” he spoke. He internally grimaced at how hollow it sounded. “To what do I owe the pleasure..”

“Well, I came for some diplomatic reasons. A little bird also told me about you recent.. endeavours.” He moved over to the kitchen, grabbing another fork and walked back over to the teen. Taking a seat next to him and stabbing a fry with the utensil. “I also hear that.. along with your struggles, your hearing has worsened again?”

Pete nodded, looking to the plate of food. Then following the man’s hand up. Noticing how T’Challa was wanting to help him eat. “It’s.. fine. Really. I’m not hungry was just.. seeing if I could.”

“Child, no one makes a whole plate of food to see if they can ‘try’ to eat it.” He spoke softly. “In fact I doubt you even made it.”

Peter looked down at the table briefly. “Tony did..” he noted how angry the other became. Noticing how it sounded. Tony leaving him alone to try to eat when he couldn’t. “Nono- it’s not.” He sighed softly. “They got caught up in a mission after he made it. He said he’d remake it for me when they got back. I just.. wanted to see..” he noticed how the king relaxed somewhat after a quick glance back up.

“I see.. well, come on. I’ll help you out.” He gestured to the fry again. Peter, seeing no point in arguing just opened his mouth. The other cupping his free hand under the others chin to catch any falling ketchup. “So why only fries?” He asked as he stabbed another one. Letting the boy swallow the food before answering.

“I just didn’t want anything else.. that and they’re probably the easiest to eat. Don’t cause a huge mess and all..” He paused briefly. “If you don’t fling them across the room that is- hey shouldn’t you be out fighting with the team?”

“I wanted to but..” he leaned forward, whispering into the teens ear. “You see that scary looking lady behind me?” He waited for the boy to indicate he saw Okoye. “She’d have my head if I left. King of Wakanda and all that.” He chuckled. Noting Peters smile before continuing to help feed him.

“Could.. you help? You guys have advanced medical technology right? Couldn’t you?” Peter watched as the man shook his head.

“Already checked kid.. Tony asked the moment they knew what was up. He sent the medical records over I checked with every single medic we had but..” he sighed softly. “Essentially it would be putting you through a world of pain for next to no benefit. You could wiggle your toes.. or maybe be able to get your tremor the tiniest bit better but, not enough to warrant invasive and life threatening operations.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Forget I asked..”

“T’Challa!” Tony greeted with a smile as he stepped from his suit. “Glad to see you! I see you finally met Peter properly?” He spoke, kissing the kids head. “I’ll remake that food alright?”

“No need. He helped me out.” Pete spoke, Tony glancing to the panther and then back down to the child. “Alright.. anything else you need?”

“A hug..” he whispered. Tony nodding and instantly picking the kid up, walking to the sofa and holding him close. “How was the mission?” Pete asked, looking to the tv, then to Clint. “What is this?”

“Dune. We want to go see the second one in the cinema but we discovered that Bruce hasn’t even watched the first.”

“Dune.. that’s the really old movie from like.. 1984 right?” He asked. “Is this the remake or something?”

“Really old?!” Tony practically squawked. “It was only..” he trailed off. “Fourty.. years- Jesus Christ I’m getting old..” he muttered. He decided to change the subject by answering Peters question. “Yeah it was alright. Just some scientists thinking they can take over the world bulls bullshit.”

“It’s not the same people as before right? There was only one guy in that building. They didn’t get my blood did they?” Peter asked frantically. He done this to keep his family safe. If he had gotten in this state for nothing he.. he began to panic before he could even realise to stop it. Tony taken aback and frozen.

Clint jumped forward, crouching down in front of Peter and taking his hand. “Hey.. hey listen.” He spoke softly. “They are the same guys as before. They don’t have your blood. They’re weaker than before okay? You set them back quite a bit.” He squeezed Peters hand. “Okay? You kept us safe..”

When Tony realised he too began to help. “Come on kid breathe for me..” he mumbled. “You’re alright.. everyone’s okay.. we’re okay.” He set the kid back on his lap, rubbing his back while Clint fixed his hair. The rest of the room filtering out to give the three some privacy. “Shh.. shh..”

Soon enough, Peter’s raspy gasps for air were replaced with sobs. Sobs that sounded like he was in agony. Well.. they figured he was. They were sure it was hurting his throat, and hurting his broken ribs, as well as his spine. The two of them coaching the child through the tears. After a while he began to calm, Clint continuing to comfort him while Tony checked for any damage. Whatever that knife was laced with, it had been slowing down Pete’s healing.

“Okay.. I can’t feel anything different but I’d like Bruce to check you over- okay.. okay I’m here..” he mumbled when Peter clung to him, wrapping his arms around the boy and rubbing his back. Clint looking to him with a frown. Pete didn’t deserve this at all..

Chapter Text

Peter was sat watching the news. News about him. More specifically, news about Spider-Man. News about his disappearance, news about how he’d let New York down. News about how hated he was. He knew he wasn’t in the good books with some people.. before he became an avenger he was called a vigilante, a trouble maker, nuisance, law breaker. And while yes, at the time it was true, it was excused by the deeds he done. The people he helped. Now even they were against him.

He watched the glowing screen with a blank expression. People on the streets being interviewed occasionally cutting to photos of Spider-Man Peter himself had took to get money to survive. After Mays death, he had struggled for money and hadn’t wanted to rely on Tony. Fat load of rubbish that plan turned out to be. Sat in the Avengers living room, in a wheelchair Tony made. Alive with Tony’s intervention. Leaning on Tony and the Avengers for every little thing. He’d told himself he’d be okay like this if it meant he could keep them safe. He was beginning to realise he’d lied to himself about that.

He paused when it cut to a photo from one of his high school photos. Of course.. his identity was known. It wasn’t just Spider-Man’s name being drug through the mud. It was also famous Peter Parker. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass reflection from the unit the TV was sat on. Turning to stare at it then comparing himself to the photo on screen.

He used to be a capable boy.. confident around the right people, a small but close group of friends, the smile wide and proud. A pristine face with a glow in his skin and life behind his eyes. Able to walk, and swing, protect others. Sure, he made stupid mistakes. He was a teenager. But that was just it.. he was a teenager. Before his identity leaked he could be a normal teenager.

He then looked to his reflection and the difference would be enough to shatter even the most toughest of hearts. Thin and frail looking. Pale skin. Scars on his face. Eyes hollow. He wasn’t sporting a smile unlike his onscreen counterpart. Instead his face was emotionless, lips chapped. He wasn’t capable. He wasn’t your average teenager. He was completely dependable on others. That close but small group of friends was no more, the trio not spoken in weeks. The visit to the tower was the last they’d spoke. They hadn’t reached out and Peter didn’t have the energy. The light from the TV enhanced every imperfection about him. He hated it all.

He jumped when the TV was turned off. Glancing to the right and seeing Tony’s hand caked in grease holding the remote pointed to the screen. “You know watching that does you no good..” Tony spoke before heading to the kitchen to wash his hands.

“They’re right though.. I’ve let them down.” He heard from the boy.

Tony was beginning to worry now. Peter had turned down any food for the past few days. And his high metabolism was beginning to show it. Despite the fact he was sitting or lying down the entire day, his body was dropping the weight like a brand new revolutionary diet pill had hit the market. He was sure the teenager was starving so why wasn’t he eating?

Peter was also stuck in a cycle of sleeping each day away or not sleeping for days. The kid would have panic attacks over the seemingly smallest things such as something falling in the kitchen or a bang from Tony’s workshop.

The workshop.. that was another thing. Peter used to jump at the chance of going down there to help Tony out. Now, he’d turn it down with single word answers.

He hardly spoke too. When he did it would be mumbled, or just a few words at a time. His voice was dull and raspy from the lack of use. He’d only communicate with Clint through shaky one hand sign language but even that was few and far between. Tony was stressed now..

Peter had stopped talking all together at this point. He’d even stopped communicating with Clint. He was silent. Just.. there. Like he was some newly installed room decor. Making himself as small as possible to get people to ignore him. To forget he existed.

Clint had walked down to the lab to check in on what little hearing he had left with Bruce. Of course the man was always late but regardless, he liked to be on time. And boy was he glad he was this time.

He wasn’t paying attention when he first walked in, scrolling through his phone calling for Banners name. When he got no response he sighed, pocketing the phone and looked up. The moment he saw Peter he darted over.

How the kid got down to the lab was a mystery in enough itself. But that could wait. He took in the scene to begin with. Peter convulsing. Foaming at the mouth. He’d fallen from his chair and was crumpled on the floor. Luckily on his side so he hadn’t choked on his tongue, foam, or.. was that sick? He quickly grabbed a pillow from the bed beside them, setting it under the kids head so he wouldn’t bash it on the tiles anymore then he’d already had.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y! Call for Tony and Bruce!” Clint called. When he got no response he tried again. “F.R.I.D.A.Y! Now!” Again.. nothing from the AI. Had Peter hacked into it? It would explain why no one had been notified. He groaned and rang Tony on his phone. Setting it on the bed with the speaker on. Clint taking in the rest of the situation while it rung.

There was a needle stuck in his arm, with two more on the floor empty. He didn’t know what the hell was in it but he hunched his bets it wasn’t good for Peter. Especially at the amount he’d took. Blood squirting from his arm. He figured Peter’s tremor had caused him to hit a major vessel. And with the amount of blood on the walls and pooling around them he’d lost quite a bit.

The moment he heard the ringing stop and Tony answer, Clint spoke. “Get Banner and get to the lab. Peter’s overdosed- there’s so much blood.” He tried to sound as calm as possible. But he figured it didn’t come across that way.

He heard the call end somewhere in the back of his mind, standing and rushing to grab gauze. He then slid back to Peter on his knees. Carefully taking the needle in his arm out, grabbing the other two and setting them on the bed behind him. Just incase Peter had another convulsion and knocked them off the bed. Applying pressure to Peter’s arm while he checked for a pulse and if he was breathing. The pulse was weak but there. The breathing however, he wished he could say the same.

He pulled Peter away from the bed after kicking the wheelchair away. He made sure all the foam and sick was out of his mouth before turning him on his back. Again, making sure airways were clear before preforming rescue breaths on the boy. It felt like hours before Tony and Bruce burst in. Avengers close behind alerted to what was going on through the other twos behaviour. Clint stood, Tony taking over for him. Handing the empty needles to Bruce carefully so the man knew what it was he took and ushered the rest of the avengers out. His pants up to his knees were covered in blood. Peter’s blood. He then shut the door.

“He was convulsing. Uhm.. fuck..” Clint rubbed his face. Trying to remember how long for to tell Banner. “Three minutes.. but he was doing it before I came down.” He told the doctor. The other nodding.

“Tony we need to intubate.” Bruce told the man. Watching as Tony’s world shattered again with every passing minute. He could have sworn he heard a “just save him..” as he picked the worryingly light teen up. He knew what Tony meant. Save Peter from everything. From the way he felt, from his body, from.. from this.

Chapter Text

The past few days had been a whirlwind for Tony. Peter’s attempt, missions with the team. And then Pepper sitting him down saying she was pregnant? That came straight out of left field. The two weren’t trying for a baby, both using protection. Both silently deciding to get Peter sorted first before they even thought about adding another addition to the family. Pepper hadn’t wanted to tell him. Not like this. Not while Peter was in medbay fighting for his life. But her family had a history of complicated pregnancy’s. She didn’t want anything to happen to her or the baby and make Tony’s mental state crack further.

The talk of an abortion had came up. But Tony was adamant Pepper make that decision. Whatever it was he’d support her. Was he ready for a newborn? Probably not. Was Pepper? He didn’t know. But Pepper had decided against the abortion, so they had just under nine months to get prepared. He just didn’t know how he’d be able to juggle Peter and a newborn at the same time.

Tony was sat in his lab tinkering away. He typically was now, just wasting the time away waiting for any sign of Pete waking up. He’d have to tell him about Pepper at some point, Pete was part of their family too. He just didn’t know how. Or more importantly, when.

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Banner has informed me that Peter has woken up.” The mystical AI spoke. And, at a speed that could rival Rogers, he was out of the chair and by Peters bedside.

“Hey kiddo..” he spoke gently. Not wanting to scare the boy. He wasn’t sure what state the kid was in. Confused probably if he had to take a guess.

Peter turned his head to the direction of the sound. He saw Tony, eyes gentle and kind but also filled with worry and anxieties. He noticed a few scrapes on his face had he been picking at it? When Tony rubbed said face he noticed how short Tony had chewed his nails down, the wisps of skin peeled back from his around his nails too. His hands seemed dry. His skin seemed dry. Cracked, peeling lips. Hair that stuck up in every which way. Bags under his eyes that could rival Peters. Had Peter caused this?

“Kid? Hey.. you with us?” Tony spoke, carefully picking up Peters hand and holding it in his own. Glancing to Bruce.

Peter’s body felt heavy. His brain felt fuzzy. He felt something on his face he could just about recognise as an oxygen mask. His throat hurt, his tongue too. Had he bitten it? Why did his throat hurt? It felt like it had been burnt. He felt a tingling sensation running down his arm ending at the tips of his fingers, and his body rocking from said arms tremor.

“Kid? Hey come on Pete..” Tony coached again, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle on the top of Peter’s hand. Tony’s hands felt rough. As usual.

“Da?” Pete whispered, life slowly leaking into his eyes now, or maybe that was tears. He didn’t know. All he knew was that his vision was blurry and that something warm was running down his cheek. He was crying. But he didn’t know why.

Tony shushed him gently. Trying to stop the tears from the teen and carefully pulling him close. Holding the child’s head to his chest and rocking him gently. “You’re alright.. you’re okay. Dads here..” he whispered. Placing gentle kisses to the top of his kids head while smoothing down the unruly hair. “Dads here..” he heard a muffled “I don’t know why I’m crying” to which Tony replied with a mantra of more shushing. They could talk about that in a minute. He just needed to comfort his son first.

Peter just about managed to move his now free hand to cling to Tony’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping Peter alive. His body’s shaking intensified when the sobs came. Pulling Peter from the back seat and back to present day. Ah.. that’s why he was crying. That’s why he was here. It didn’t help to slow his crying down, in fact only served to make it worse. The more sobs that came, the more his throat hurt. The irritation that had been caused from the vomit now inflamed again and with each sob splattered small amounts of blood into Tony’s one of many mechanic shirts

The garbled “I’m sorry”s were enough to alert to Tony that something was wrong. Other than peters poor mental state and his overdose. Sitting the kid up he wiped the blood from his face. “Hey- hey you need to calm down kid before you choke, come on now..” he let Peter fall back to his chest. The teen hiding in Tony’s shirt. Tony talking deep breaths to try and encourage Peters body to do the same. “Come on kiddo.. I’m right here. Dads here you just need to breathe with me.. come on..”

Peter wished he’d choke on the blood. He really did. But his subconscious was following Tony’s orders. His body taking control and slowly worked on matching his breathing to Tony’s. Meanwhile Peter just clung helplessly to the other. It took a further half an hour for Peter to calm down again, but he still hadn’t let go of Tony.

Tony decided, to save his back, to pick Peter up, sitting down on the bed where the child was and holding him close. Peter felt so frail. Handling him with such care like his son could shatter at any moment. Tony didn’t want to risk that possibility. Gently rocking Peter back to sleep with a quiet hum.

When Peter woke up next, he was alone. Staring blankly at the ceiling debating his next move. Does he stay put? Or does he look for a way out. Of med bay or his life he didn’t know yet. He looked to the door when he heard it open, spotting a Bucky Barnes and just looked back up at the ceiling. Guessing Bucky had been appointed guard duty. Well.. there went any plans of escape.

The two sat in comfortable silence for what must have been an hour before Peter spoke up. “I want to try it..” he mumbled.

“What? Try what?” Bucky asked, now immediately sat up. His full attention on Peter. Well.. it always had been. But this time he was showing it. Did he mean attempt again?

“That night-“ he swallowed thickly “when you were on watch in my room and that phantom pain it.. you mentioned therapy.” Peter whispered, before turning to Bucky. “I can’t do it no more Buck.. I need help.” Peter sounded desperate. A plea. A cry.

Bucky immediately moved the chair closer, fixing the boys hair. “Okay.. okay just breathe.. we can get you that help.” Bucky spoke softly. “It’s hard to confess you need help and I’m so proud that you have..” he moved again to lie Peter back down gently, tucking him in. “We’re going to get you the help you need kid..”

Three weeks later, Peter had been discharged from medbay and had seen three therapists. He hated each one. It felt like he was being talked down to. Or like he was being babied. He felt like it was condescending. “How did it go?” Tony asked as Peter was wheeled into the living room by Pepper.

“Same as every other time. It’s like I’m dumb or like I’m lesser than them. Some of them give off this vibe that they don’t even want to be here.. this one just straight up told me I’m fine.” Peter mumbled. “Said I didn’t need to see him.”

Tony sighed softly. This kid was far from fine.. Tony moved him to the sofa and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry kid.. why don’t we try my therapist?” Tony suggested.

Peter shrugged slightly. “Can’t hurt.” he mumbled, cuddling into his dads side. “Peppers not been feeling too good. She tries to hide it but she’s not very good at it.” Peter told Tony.

He noticed the man glance to his wife. Tony figured they couldn’t hide it any longer, a thought that seemed to be conveyed telepathically to Pepper who nodded to Tony to tell him. “Peter, Peppers pregnant.”

“Yeah very funny.” Peter chuckled. Glancing to Tony, then to Pepper. “It’s not a joke is it?” Peter said. Watching Pepper shake her head. Peter couldn’t help but smile softly. “How long?”

“Found out three weeks ago. We’re trying to keep it from the press for as long as possible.” Pepper spoke as she walked over, sitting down beside Peter. She jumped when the boy hugged her. Had he ever hugged her before? Regardless, she gently wrapped her arms around the teen, smiling softly. Maybe this would be alright?